chaff.aeaeae.net

Ni has been around 8.5 years. That’s eight-and-a-half years I personally am damn proud of. When Zathros, Ni, and myself said “hey it would be really fun to role-play a little Monty Python” all those years ago in Asheron’s call, we never would have dreamed that our numbers would boom to nearly 3500 avatars, becoming one of the largest guilds on the server. We had no idea we would successfully transition to other games, doing equally as well. And, we certainly had no idea that we’d still be going strong all these years later.

Over that time period, we’ve accumulated a lot information on what makes online communities tick, and what makes them perhaps different from those we participate in in “real life” face-to-face settings. I’ve always thought of Ni as a big, crazy family. We may not all get along, but we still help each other bury the bodies and work the rest out later. When you join, you will always be a part of the family- as long as you do not forsake us in any horribly inappropriate, disrespectful manner. If you ask me about our members, I can tell you how most of them came to be with us, and even little details about their lives. (She dances; he is a computer programmer; she’s really into hiking; he really loves cats; They have 3 kids…) I’ve always sort of marveled at my ability to retain that sort of information about people, but I do, and I’ve always taken a genuine interest in our members.

However, lately I am feeling a real ennui that saddens me deeply. I’ll get to the specifics in time, but suffice to say while this ennui is a result of people’s actions, those actions are merely a symptom, not the true cause of the issue that makes me sad. What’s really at the heart of things, driving and encouraging this behavior, is a paradigm created as a result of our current game’s design… and it’s not something I can see waging a successful battle against. It has embroiled us in a constant struggle against what I see as some of the worst elements of human nature, and is of catastrophic import for online gaming communities like our own.

People need a sense of belonging. Like WoW, the other games we were so successful in, Asheron’s Call and Star Wars Galaxies, were cooperative in nature. But, unlike WoW, every player in the guild could participate and feel they had an important role in the community. In Asheron’s call, they could help maintain our mansion, and the content was friendly enough that we could support a less-skilled “weaker” player and enable them to see content they would not without community support. There were ins-and-outs to the tiered monarchy system, but it provided every member a direct mentor in the guild. Star Wars Galaxies was wonderful because not only did it have arguably the best crafting system of any recent MMO, every member could build a home in our city. Thus, not only were our goals as a guild to obtain things like one of the first metropolises and starports on our server forwarded, but also a tremendous sense of community pride was fostered for each participating member. And, there was another element that fueled these online communities- both games either very intentionally or not, encouraged a little role-play, and did not necessarily focus players on having the best stuff (although certainly that remains a goal in any game of this nature) but also encouraged them to have other goals, like cool furnishings for their home or a crafted ride they could call their own.

WoW is designed around a different paradigm, which I believe is not conducive to building sound, stable online communities, and sadly tends to leave a lot of players behind. There are still reasons to belong to a guild in WoW, but the nature of the reasons for it differ, and the tools the game provides to encourage a sense of community are next to none. With a rapid leveling model, a focus on end-game raid content, and better gear being the only real means of progression for a player character, people become far more focused on “what a guild can do for them” than “what they can do for a guild”. Traditionally, we as a community have tried to avoid players with this mentality, but in this environment, the reality is that a significant proportion of the population has come to treat guilds like professional sports teams, trading from one to another with little loyalty. They join them as a means to an end, for progression rather than to be part of a meaningful, lasting community.

In our time, we’ve periodically seen splinter groups split off. There’s always an excuse, but usually it is motivated by ambition. In WoW, the splits have consisted largely of cherry-picking the players they felt were “the best” to further their raiding goals. It’s a great deal for them- they get a ready made guild (and, believe me, building a successful one from the ground up is a hell of a lot more difficult) and in every case, they have taken with them a significant subset of our philosophy and utilized resources developed by our members. (Such as the Ni Karma system.) Of the three that have broken off over the years, two have left relatively peacefully save for a few members who can only find justification in their actions by seeing Ni and I as the devil incarnate. One was a complete debacle.

I admit to not being as sympathetic as Ysharros is towards these sorts of splits. And yes, I am sure I take things far too personally, but as I said I think of my guild as my online family, and I really take an interest in people. Loyalty and reciprocity mean a great deal to me, and I get angry. I see splits like these as a betrayal and a personal failure, and I am a bit of a mother hen. My offense is not just for myself but for every remaining member in our guild. When I see a group of people I have spent the better part of my evenings for months with, and thought were my “friends” essentially tell the rest of us we’re not good enough for them, I feel used. Ni is not a sports team. Ni is not here just so you can get your ph4t l3WtZ. Ni is my extended, online family. I know you have 3 cats. I know what kind of beer you drink. I know you don’t like so-and-so, but is that any excuse to dis the rest of us really? And, you can’t even make time when you gquit to say “hey, thanks for everything.” I used to say I didn’t play games to make friends, but the truth is, it’s the people that have kept me playing… and they well may turn out to be reason I quit, too.

This experience is not one isolated to our guild (again, see Ysharros’ post), and consider the sheer number of fly-by-night guilds in games like this. Nor is this phenomenon restricted to World of Warcraft, but it is, I believe, largely seen more in games embracing this sort of paradigm. And, I believe with a focus on end-game content and loot rather than community, it will continue. Given no in-game means of instilling a sense of belonging and encouraging loyalty to the community and functioning within a game design model that in every way encourages cliquishness and elitism, a revolving door philosophy will continue to be prevalent in the minds of the majority of players. WoW’s switch from the 40 man to 10 and 25 man raid model, while good in allowing more players to see end-game content, fragmented large guilds which had been encouraged to build large raid forces and brought to light a pretty ugly aspect of human nature… a sort of cancerous within-guild xenophobia that develops when we are forced into smaller and smaller groups within the larger unit. Left in a vacuum with no other real sense of belonging to the larger group, these cliques begin to see themselves as separate entities and with each new expansion the potential to renew the cycle begins.

This is the source of my sadness, and I feel helpless within the game design to fight it. Don’t get me wrong. We have a great group of folks and I thoroughly enjoy playing with them. However, I hear disenfranchisement even in the most mature players (heck through all of this, WoW has created a sense of it in me, too) and I want desperately to counter that. But, there is little interest in silly events aimed at just hanging out in a game where the focus is the end-game and no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot hold everyone’s hand. It’s exhausting. In WoW, we have no common goals past beating the next big boss, which only includes a small subset of the greater unit. I can’t beg players to stay, and my interest in them can’t counter ambition. I wish every day for a game that will provide me with the tools again to restore my “family” to what it once was.

When I watched the inauguaration yesterday, the thought came to mind to alter the title of this post to “like country, like guild”. Ni is, at its very best, a conglomeration of all walks of life. We keep politics out of things and we play alongside folks we’d never have met or associated with in real life, and find we enjoy their company. We have forged real life friendships over this common interest and taken trips in real life together. Inclusiveness, tolerance, open-mindedness, fairness, and integrity are at the very foundation of our philosophy. But, in a world full of American independence and capitalistic influence which is far more “me”-centric playing a game that provides no support for the greater community, that model falters, even for the best of people. I really hope that despite how wildly popular WoW is, future game designers will recognize the importance of providing support for online communities in the form of content guild leaders can use to foster that ever-critical sense of belonging and community on a larger scale. I remember when people were genuinely proud to wear our guild tag and I live for the day I feel the larger group has the kind of pride in who they are as it once did.