Everyone is obsessed over something these days. The evidence is everywhere. Go online, and you’ll find the cultural conversation at a fever pitch on the major subjects: politics, celebrity, education, sports. Food, our daily bread, is an obsessive topic. “Is eating too much really a bad thing?” Disagreements don’t lead to a calm, rational uncovering of the truth. It’s cultural warfare. People are canceling each other left and right.
At the heart of the online brawl over our obsessions is a sinking feeling. No one believes our addictions can be fixed. The authoritative textbook of psychiatric illnesses, the DSM, has also been canceled. Everything is a personal choice. No one is crazy. Or, everyone is, so what can be done?
It’s a question left for another day. In the meantime, people search for healthier addictions, a way to reduce the damage caused by overdoing it. People hear, “If you get a smartwatch, you won’t need to check your phone every five minutes.” They hear, “Vaping is safer than smoking.” No one expects to hear they’ll beat their obsessive routine. It’s about managing it.
Why is an obsession almost as natural as breathing today? Has technology made it easier to indulge? Does it fill a void? The bigger question may be discovering a sense of purpose, of knowing how to use one’s personal time. “When all the chores are done, the kids are fed, and my time is my own, what do I do?” There’s always TV, working out, scrolling social media, and meeting up with friends. What if you want to feel that your recreation is going somewhere? That you’re not just spinning your wheels, but your time is building up to something that you can look back on?
Online gaming clans believe they’ve found an answer. Everyone knows video games are an outlet for addictive behavior. The world’s most popular game, Candy Crush, has been compared to a drug addiction. Online gaming clans are different. They turn a time-wasting habit into a legitimate hobby. Clans are formed around MMO games that do more than mindlessly match shapes. An MMO video game inspires a player to think and strategize like an old-school logic puzzle while simultaneously blowing away space aliens. A genre with elements of strategy, cinematic storytelling, and fast-paced action, a Massively Multiplayer Online game (MMO) may be the pinnacle of gaming. It’s an addictive, community-driven experience you can’t find elsewhere.
Gaming clans remain under the radar. After all, you can play many challenging video games by yourself. The Dark Souls series has broken the spirit of many players. And yet, regular video games have an ending. The level ends, then the mission, then the game. Communities built around these games come and go. It’s a one-off adventure. A sense of accomplishment is fleeting.
An MMO game is perpetually ongoing. Problem solved. A player can make a home in World of Warcraft or Destiny 2 and never have to leave. The gameplay becomes familiar, ingrained, and second nature. A player’s progression is tracked forever, reinforcing a sense of accomplishment. An MMO is built for group activities, adding spontaneity to the same old routines. Hundreds of thousands of players enlarge the scope. The community transforms into a makeshift family with a shared language.
There are stories of spouses meeting in MMO communities. Through a daily play schedule, players become better friends with other players they’ve never met than with people they see every day. Sometimes, clan mates will meet in person after years online, like old-school pen pals. An MMO can turn a clinical multiplayer session into a bygone long-distance phone call. You chat while you play, blending strategizing and small talk.
A Call of Duty match might last ten minutes. An MMO raid can stretch to hours, keeping players on the comms. One is a subway ride, and the other is an international flight. Bonds are formed.
Not that making friends is the main purpose of playing an MMO. Players attracted to the genre are ambitious mercenaries in search of loot, the in-game rewards that define success. Loot forms the basis of power and ability. It buffs a player’s character, making play easier. The sight of loot is like a poker chip to a gambler. You snap it up. An accumulation of treasure shows a player’s dedication, upping one’s bragging rights.
Envy is an unofficial currency in MMO playing. When one player finds a weapon with a five percent drop rate, everyone else is impressed. They redouble their efforts to get that weapon to drop for them. A random number generator (RNG) determines one’s fortune. Luck is the great equalizer. For as much skill as players have in an MMO, they can’t always obtain a coveted weapon through skill. They have to play the game and get lucky.
What sounds like a perverse waste of time, pinning one’s hopes on randomness, players view as an essential feature. They’re drawn to the luck aspect and log in precisely for the game to surprise them. Many say that gambling time for rewards is the definition of an MMO. Chance and disappointment are parts of the grind.
The writer EB White once said, “No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.” The same could be said for starting an MMO. You need to embrace the idea you can’t make your fortune, not entirely. MMO players are willing to devote valuable personal time, the rare hours they have to themselves, into the chase for something unknown. Putting real time into an MMO is to have “skin in the game.” Like a Candy Crush player who lines up a long chain of shapes, the MMO player strives to unlock rare items that will unleash a dopamine hit. Except, in an MMO, that item is a powerful asset going forward. You keep it in your inventory and own it, virtually, forever.
It’s common for a video game item to take on emotional importance for players. Accomplishments often come after many hours of completing strenuous activities. An MMO game becomes one’s haven from life’s complexities. And yet, the game lacks the childish aspects of regular video games that can be set on the easiest difficulty. In a way, the MMO mirrors the world’s unpredictable nature by dropping rewards via RNG. The player doesn’t feel it’s a kid’s game but a mature hobby that takes patience, skill, and strategy to play at the highest level.
These qualities attract players of all ages and backgrounds. Students, retirees, craftspeople, and professionals make up a number of gaming clan members. The stereotype of zoned-out gamers, overstimulated and unemployed, huddled in their mothers’ basements isn’t accurate. MMO players can be highly motivated people who seek to conquer an endless game filled with currency systems, damage variables, build symmetries, and shifting metas. The player base skews toward granular thinkers with analytical skills. You’re likely to find an auto mechanic and a professor battling together and using a similar diagnostic methodology.
MMO players can also be self-aware of their obsessive hobby. Many own up to the serious time they spend in a digital world. If one suggested they were addicted to the game, some players would not disagree. “Addicted? Maybe.” Players wouldn’t be too concerned because this kind of addiction is not serious in their minds. Gaming for three or more hours per night may be excessive to many, but it is not a health risk. Those who game are safe at home instead of bar hopping after work and driving home. Many MMO gamers are also fastidiously frugal. They loathe to spend money on their game if they don’t have to. A grind for loot is relatively harmless, they reason, in the grand scheme of things. Spouses and family members would likely agree that having the gamer at home instead of out and about is preferable.
A relative happiness among MMO players is enough to redefine the definition of obsession. Players can be hard workers, good spouses, and attentive parents while occupying themselves with a harmless, stimulating game. An MMO player might say, “I could just as easily binge-stream shows. My game is more interesting and more social.” The assumption that video games are always an addictive trap is questioned. Could knowledgeable adults be an exception? Is there any downside to a heavy gaming habit?
If not a downside, there is a catch to playing an MMO. Players leave every day over it: the “happiness bubble” they seek relies on extreme repetition. A big secret of an MMO is the gameplay is not as dynamic as in regular video games. A single-player game is crafted to unfold like a Hollywood movie. In contrast, an MMO featuring dozens of players is a stage for large-scale battles. Loot drops are the goal. The amount of game needed to keep thousands of players chasing loot is much larger than a standard game. These demands are taxing on an MMO developer, and, as a result, gameplay in an MMO is somewhat generic. A hamster never runs out of wheel, but an MMO player often feels the game’s originality has run out. It’s fun the first few dozen times, but the decision to grind soon sets in.
The question naturally comes, “Should I quit?” Players can choose to play the game on autopilot to receive rewards worth the boredom of chasing them, or they can walk away and lose everything they earned. It’s a stark choice. Many stay for a magical feeling of advancement they can’t find elsewhere.
That magical feeling of fun takes a lot of work. An MMO player will chase the rarest loot for months or years. A player may run an activity upwards of a hundred times in pursuit of a “god” roll—-the best stats available. A single activity could take anywhere between twenty minutes to several hours.
Loot is the obvious lure of an MMO, and yet, it’s merely the symbol of a player’s goal. Game developers understand players want their time to add up to something epic. Like an explorer of old, players want to discover the item no one else can find. Players want to display their acumen to a community that won’t disappear. This sense of progression is deeply psychological. It can make a form of entertainment a significant part of someone’s life.
A player will praise an MMO as “being there” during long stretches of one’s life. Players couldn’t imagine being without it. This level of engagement is unique to an MMO. It’s a symbiotic relationship that is more emotional than rational.
It adds up to a game that is more of a way of life for players. In a way, video game makers have created the perfect activity. Their players grind for lucky items, looking for excitement in a challenge with small odds, gambling their free time, which they feel isn’t better spent elsewhere. In Greek mythology, Sisyphus was cursed to roll a boulder up a hill, only to see it fall again. Would MMO players see the curse as a tragedy, or say, “NGL. That looks kinda fun.”
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