I’ll try to distill this as concisely as possible. (The full analysis is ripe for a full-on novel, or at the least a doctoral dissertation.)

“Go strap yourself in, I’m going to make the jump to light speed.”

TLDR;

Battlefront II is not the problem. The myopic focus here is fine for effecting tangible change on a small level (let’s rebalance Battlefront II’s progression to focus on fun; remove loot crates; eliminate Pay-to-win mechanics).

Without a bigger fix, we will continue trading one problem for another because a root problem remains: capitalism pervades and supersedes all other factors.

Profit-motive is currently out of balance with consumer (i.e. gamer) wants. Unfortunately, difficult-to-quantify “wants” face an uphill battle against money and human psychology.

EA is not the problem. EA perpetuates the problem to its benefit.

If we, as a society, don’t want to continue wasting time on the same small problems (which bleed into a much-greater existential malaise), BIG changes have to be outlined and detailed, communicated throughout our social structures, and acted upon.

None of this is easy, and the odds are long, based on the direction we’re moving, globally, as humans. Inertia, entropy, and apathy are powerful roadblocks. Can we do better; and does this moment matter? (Spoiler Alert: I think so)

But I clearly like staring at my belly button and analyzing and dreaming about “what-if’s” so here goes… (may the Force be with us all):

The original trilogy

The problem with Battlefront II and its predatory Pay-to-Win (P2W) structure mixed with gambling elements is a symptom and reflection of the confluence of three foundational aspects of our modern human existence:

Economics

Sociology

Psychology

Fixing the problems in Battlefront II is little more than putting a band-aid on a single rebel’s wound, as the Death Star looms above… fully operational.

Economics, the Empire, and You

At the heart of what apparently bothers most gamers in the case of Battlefront II is the very essence of Capitalism.

To gloss over years of social and economic structure, most of the living population of this earth were born into a society where Capitalism is winning out over Communism, Socialism, or any other competing paradigm of economic (and through the relationships it dictates, I’d argue social) organization.

Within that framework, humans spend a significant portion of our productive time “at work” in service of businesses, whose primary (bottom-line) goal is to make money. In return, we get varying portions of the profits that the businesses that employ us (or that we own) make.

This brief overview is not meant to be pedantic or patronizing. It is simply to establish the factual reality that we live in a society where a meaningful portion of our social and individual identity (whether we like it or not) is centered around earning a living, by default making “work” and “business” primarily relevant, consequently giving primacy to the importance and influence of the capitalist system. (As a self-aware note, I understand the tone here can come off as either conspiratorial or sanctimonious – I am simply attempting to lay out the facts without resorting to histrionics).

In short: money talks. Nothing new here.

“Look, I ain’t in this for your revolution, and I’m not in it for you, princess. I expect to be well paid. I’m in it for the money.”

EA is a publicly traded company (though being privately owned would little change the fundamentals here). While publishing games is the nature of their business, earning money for shareholders is their measure for success. Making gamers happy is a means towards an end: selling more copies of video games. But it’s not the ultimate end. Selling copies of video games is a means towards their ultimate end: making money. Microtransactions fit neatly in between those two ends, allowing them another source of revenue. So selling video games is not the end goal of EA; pushing microtransactions is not the goal; making gamers happy is not the goal. They are all pieces of a complex puzzle, where the big picture is very simple: make money.

To act like a single one of these variables drives EA’s decision making to the exclusion of others ignores the intricate interplay between all of them. Which, importantly, EA has studied, continues to study, and pays good money to smart people to tell them exactly how to maximize that final result they’re looking for: Power! Unlimited Power!

I said I’d avoid histrionics, not pandering. But here is the power of EA and their approach to marrying the video game industry to making money:

EA 5 Year Stock (Share) Performance

This is not an arbitrary time period crafted to fit a narrative; play around with the interactive charts here. If there was any doubt, the market has spoken about EA’s success. It is a profitable company, to the tune of over $4 billion per year. This isn’t some monolithic, soulless entity that operates via emotionless computers (much as it’s personified) – it’s a collection of over 8,000 employees who work together, using their time, intelligence, and combined effort to make games that make money.

“You were supposed to bring balance to the Force, not destroy it!”

EA’s success has made it a harbinger of the video game business as a whole. Which is precisely what rankles many about the issues plaguing Battlefront II. If EA pushes P2W, microtransactions (MTX), loot boxes, Skinner boxes, and “games as a service” where long-tail revenue streams take precedence over gameplay issues, the gaming industry as a whole will surely take notice and follow EA’s lead.

Money talks.

And that’s not good for those of us who just want to have fun. I’ve read pleas from those who turn to video games to escape the doldrums of daily working life. They don’t want to feel squeezed financially when they’re trying to enjoy themselves. It’s a real bummer to find your hobby only reiterating the same bullshit that is frustrating in “real” life:

Those with more money have an advantage.

You’re only valuable in as much as you can make somebody else money.

You’re a cog in a much larger wheel, and your impact is minimal.

The ignorance of the masses will limit your choices.

Any one of these realizations will take you right out of that fantasy world – yes, even Star Wars – that video games have the potential to envelope you in. So much for entertainment. Reality rears its ugly head, leaving you staring into the pit of the Sarlacc instead of carving up stormtroopers.

So if this is so obviously not in a gamer’s best interest, how is this so blatantly happening?

“I’m a Toydarian. Mind tricks don’t work on me. Only money.”

Human psychology is a funny thing.

A lot of the conversation about Battlefront II makes some assumptions. For example, that as a full-priced, AAA game with an MSRP of $60-$80USD, microtransactions should either apply to cosmetic items only or be removed entirely. The justification often stated is that MTX should be left to Free-to-Play games; the entry price of $60 should not come with extra strings attached. It is implied, if not outright stated, that MTX in Free-to-Play games are acceptable (premised on the idea that it is the base cost of the game – free vs $60 – that determines whether or not MTX are okay).

Whether or not you personally agree with this premise is immaterial. Video game companies, and especially EA, have volumes of data to back up these presumptions. The reason we are seeing MTX in Battlefront II is because gamers’ actions have spoken louder than their protests. MTX are okay. They are okay, because consumers have indicated they’re okay. (See the $1.6 billion that EA alone made last year on recurrent consumer spending – aka MTX). The cost of the base game is not the determining factor. Consumers may SAY it is, but the line of acceptability is moving, and EA will push that line in service of making money, and consumers will psychologically fall prey to a combination of two psychological factors that, even if we’re aware of them, are hard-coded into our brains.

“In time, the suffering of your people will persuade you to see our point of view.”

You know them in action, if not by name:

– The foot-in-the-door (FITD) and door-in-the-face (DITF) technique.

The foot-in-the-door technique is a concept from social psychology in which a person agrees to a small request followed by increasingly larger ones, creating a social contract of agreement, leading to acceptance of a final (larger) request. FITD is a way to create compliance. (Recommended side reading on the psychology of FITD & DITF – the experiments are interesting and should feel very familiar to many of us).

MTX are a veritable case-study of textbook FITD at work. They were tested out heavily in mobile games (successfully), making their way from free-to-play, to 99¢ games (Angry Birds and Plants vs Zombies changed their models), to subscription games, to larger console versions, to cosmetics in AAA games, and are now making the jump to prominence in headliner AAA games. Hello Battlefront II. Thanks for laying the groundwork Call of Duty, FIFA, Madden, GTA V, etc. The canary in the coal mine came back reviled, but unscathed. Bearing billions of dollars.

Don’t like Battlefront II’s progression system, which seems tailor-made to elicit enough frustration to turn to MTX in an attempt to level up faster? Candy Crush and Clash of Clans have proven that model works wonders. Not for a gamer’s pleasure or sanity, mind you. For squeezing dollar bills out of hog-tied, impatient gamers who just want to get on with it already.

Incensed at the inclusion of gambling elements in Battlefront II? They’ve been working their way up the ladder of games for the last decade. Starting small, masquerading as a novel new, “side” element: that tantalizing dance with uncertainty offering the thrill of prizes. If you’re tempted to say, “Well Overwatch does it right,” or, “I’m happy to support it in Rocket League, it’s only cosmetic” then you’re seeing the slippery slope of FITD taking hold. Small, agreeable requests… leading up to a large request.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

The bad news? Battlefront II is not the final request in this march towards progressively intrusive compliance. We’re psychologically in the middle of the cycle here. Without major changes – passing laws; regulatory interference; mass, sustained shifts in consumer spending behavior – as long as the dollars keep coming in, the elements of gaming replicating what is known as a “Skinner box” will continue to tap our wallets.

Pray that Skinner’s lesson in operant conditioning doesn’t dovetail with Seligman’s work in learned helplessness (in which repeated pain leads to apathy and acceptance). There’s a video-game plot here, with gamers trapped in an endless cycle of seeking pleasure and accepting pain, all to the benefit of a shrewd corporate machine that has engineered our collective demise in pursuit of ever-growing profits. Dystopian futures aside, there are biological factors at play here – our brains are wired, and serotonin and dopamine will continue to operate no matter how well-informed we are individually or as a group. We are slaves, in essence, to our own bodies and brains. Our biochemistry betrays us.

Which brings us back to the second “door” metaphor, and where we stand mid-cycle in EA’s manipulation of consumers.

“You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!”

Remember when EA set the price to unlock Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader at 60,000 credits, and it was estimated it could take up to 40 hours of in-game time to achieve that? Then on the eve of release, EA swooped in and slashed the cost 75% to 15,000 credits? Classic door-in-the-face technique.

While the timing may not have been ideal, and while there may not be concrete evidence that this was a well-planned execution of the aforementioned compliance method, the result is the same. The consumer was presented with an onerous situation (and it’s important that the situation be “real” and not simply alluded to – a condition met when EA sold the Elite Trooper Deluxe edition offering 3-day early access, in which the 60,000 credit price was active and very real), then offered a much more palatable alternative. Not only does the second price seem much more reasonable given the anchoring effect of the original 60,000 credit price reference point, but the focus has now shifted to what price is acceptable, instead of whether any price is acceptable at all.

There are at least three psychological effects achieved in one seemingly generous concession by the benevolent publishers/makers of the game we eager consumers so yearn to love. This vignette is symptomatic of the considerable number of intertwined psychological phenomena and theories that EA is poised to leverage over consumers who frankly have better things to be concerned about or guarding themselves against. The fact that there was backlash at all is a propitious sign that warrants pouncing on, so consumers can seize hold of the reigns and begin to turn the tide in lieu of continuing down what will be a very dark path. But it will not be easy.

Remember, there’s a larger issue rotting at the core, and it’s the way Capitalism has rewarded immoral behavior and broken the societal bond of trust between humans, in the name of “gaining a competitive advantage” in a greedy pursuit of attaining the highest profit… at what seems like a significant cost. Do the ends justify the means? We should question very deeply whether this is acceptable.

I will save the discussion of sustainability and mental health for another day, as I fear straying too far and having the central message lost. I’ve already ventured far too close to the edge of what a person can reasonably be expected to read online. But there are important related, resulting consequences here, whose significance demands mentioning, if not exploring further in the future.

Be careful what you wish for

“I am altering the deal; pray I don’t alter it any further.”

The current situation of loot crates and a gimped progression system came about to fill the vacuum of revenue created in getting rid of another “problem” (from consumers’ perspective) with the most recent Battlefront (2015). That problem was splitting the user base with Season’s Pass content, which came in the form of maps (and to a lesser extent, characters, weapons, and game modes).

Developers have to be given incentive to continue working on a game after it has been released. “Love for their game” is not enough; incentive is understood to be financial. With the advent of constant internet-connected gaming devices, this is a reality consumers have to accept. Given the multiplayer aspect of games, connecting with a community within a game creates a longitudinal lifespan that benefits gamers (who presumably want to continue playing their favorite games). In other words, games can extend their lifespan by both allowing continued, widespread community interaction and involvement, and also providing new content to keep the game “fresh” for dedicated players and renewing interest among lapsed players. Much of this is obvious, given the standard operating procedure of game development and post-release support that we take for granted these days. But this was not always the case. The days of Super Mario Brothers, Pac-Man, and a game being final once the master has gone gold is long gone.

This has potential for being mutually beneficial for gamers and game developers/publishers alike. The interests here are aligned, instead of being diametrically opposed. Rather than a popular game like World of Warcraft, League of Legends, CSGO, or Battlefield (name-your-favorite) subsisting for years based solely upon popularity among gamers, with no involvement (and thus no additional profit) from studios, ubiquitous internet connections give game makers the ability to stay engaged with and support their games post-release, building upon successes and keeping players interested beyond the fun that the “original” content provided.

Look no further than the original Battlefront II from 2005 for a varied case study touching on how developers and gamers evolved during the life-cycle of a game. Across several platforms, servers stayed online long past the game’s release (and long since LucasArts sold 3,500,000+ copies, representing the near totality of their income from the game). On Xbox, players were able to play online until 2010 (backwards compatibility was added to the 360 to allow continued play). GameSpy servers stayed online until 2014 – and online play was even revived on PC via Steam & GOG in 2017 – for continuous play by consumers who had made a one-time purchase of the game.

The Playstation 2 version remained unchanged from its disc-release version. On the other hand, the Xbox version received updates via Xbox Live (their online system), including a paid DLC pack for $5. LucasArts released mod tools for the PC which (via dedicated and passionate users making changes and tinkering) kept the Battlefront II community active long past its release date.

Contrast this with the situation in which studios artificially push out yearly updates in an attempt to re-capitalize on popular IP’s with large online populations (see Madden, FIFA, and to a lesser extent shooters like Call of Duty as oft-criticized titles with “unneeded iterations” abusing a redundant, yet expected, yearly development and release cycle).

We cannot ignore the profit motive at the center of all this. It is wrapped up in the PR speak of delivering experiences that gamers want, but that is corporate speak intended to soften the direct blow of “we want your money.”

So when gamers complained about the Battlefront (2015) player base being split (via the $50 Season Pass) as a potential reason for holding back the game’s potential, EA seized the opportunity. They could answer gamers’ criticisms, earning goodwill towards the next game, providing a selling point for something that was inevitable anyway (development of a sequel), all the while shifting the earning potential from the Season’s Pass model over to the much more profitable MTX model. All in the guise of giving gamers what they were asking for: look, you can all play together, no split player base!

EA has dangerously appropriated Disney’s IP in its embodiment of Darth Vader, leaving the collective Lando of the gaming community uttering those immortal words.

“Never tell me the odds”

Despite the odds being stacked against them, there was a large enough groundswell of online pushback among passionate gamers to elicit some influential press, thus placing a temporary spotlight on the matters at hand. Was it enough to create a break in the system as a whole? Not yet, no. Too many things conspire against any lasting change here. Economics, Sociology, and Psychology are all powerfully in play here, and they don’t favor the consumer.

But the number of downvotes on a single post may tell a tale here (pray we don’t find a bot swarm responsible). There’s a seething disaffection, and in multiple spheres, we’re seeing it bubble to the surface. Like the naif and optimistic Luke, it seems there’s a collective desire for something better out of this life. Battlefront II has provided an ephemeral metaphor that brings focus to what I feel are important underlying issues about humanity that we cannot afford to ignore should we wish to progress as a society and as our best versions of ourselves as individuals. But that’s a lot to digest, considering all we’re talking about is getting a fair opportunity to kick back and geek out while flying around as Boba Fett or piloting an AT-AT.

So what are we left to do as citizens of this earth, workers of the world, and consumers of products? Acknowledge the frailty of our biology, our inevitable susceptibility to pleasure and pain? Capitulate to the practical effectiveness of capitalism in governing our otherwise chaotic and orderless existence? Should we save the effort and give in to the status quo? Is there a bigger fight to save our energy for? I just came here to play video games, dammit!

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

This is not a hill most of us are willing to die on. EA will make the minimum number of changes that a well-crafted matrix on a spreadsheet will determine results in the least financial loss. Once the tide turns, incrementally they will continue to tune the game (including MTX, P2W elements, and loot boxes) until profit is maximized. This will surprise no one.

EA is not in the business of making gamers happy, or doing what is morally right. As a society, we don’t demand that. EA is tasked with making money, and that is what they will pursue, for better or worse.

But like many of you reading this, I’ve drawn a line in the sand. I know it’s only symbolic. And I’m okay with that.

I did not buy Battlefront II. I will not be buying Battlefront II, and it pains me to even type these words out. I am a Star Wars fan. I’ve just written a 3,000 word essay that no one may ever read. But morally, on principle, I cannot hypocritically support something, knowing the full context of what that entails for my, and my fellow gamers’, future. I look ten years down the road, and I want to be able to say I at least strived, in action and words, to better my lot, even if only in a symbolic, Pyrrhic victory.

I want to ignore the meta implications, and just dive in and get some superficial enjoyment from a game that would certainly provide some amount of fun worth my money. But I don’t like how EA, aping the Emperor in all his haughty certainty, sits back after devising his evil manipulations and waits for me to embrace the Dark Side like it’s my destiny. Instead, I look to the horizon, and envisioning the fall of the Empire in the orange glow of two setting suns, my heart holds optimism for A New Hope.