So Now Demos Are Bad for the Industry

It looks like Jesse Schell's keynote speech at the D.I.C.E. Summit is causing some minor controversy.

You can watch the whole thing (which runs just over 22 minutes) right here, and I recommend doing so, since the speech is pretty entertaining and informative overall. Schell makes some jokes, discusses the psychology of getting customers to spend money, talks about why Facebook games and microtransactions are terrible, and makes some less-than-optimistic predictions about the future of 3D games and augmented reality.

But most of that is being ignored because of something that occurred about half-way through the speech. In the context of discussing how "plans" affect consumer behavior, Schell presented a graph with data from EEDAR showing that games with a demo (and no trailer) sell better in the first six months than games with neither a demo nor a trailer... and that games with both a demo and a trailer sell even better... and that games with a trailer and no demo sell even better. In fact, among games with a trailer, those without a demo appear to be selling twice as well. Schell comments:

"Wait, you mean we spent all this money making a demo, and getting it out there, and it cut our sales in half?" Yes, that's exactly what happened to you. Because when you put the demo out — people had seen the trailer and they're like, "that's cool," and they made a plan: "I gotta try that game!" And then when they played the demo: "all right, I've tried that game. That was okay. All right, I'm done." But the things with no demo — you've got to buy it if you want to try it.

This all starts at about 10:24 in the video below.

This minute-long part of the speech, far more than any other, is being picked out for commentary by video game news sites (see articles here and here and here and here and here). While it's regrettable that most of the speech is being overlooked, it should be no surprise that this particular section is a point of controversy. Schell is basically implying that sales can be increased by not releasing a demo, since a player might not want to buy the game anymore after he or she tries it.

A lot of us, understandably, are upset about the idea of game developers forgoing the playable demo for the express purpose of keeping customers uninformed. Such business practices are generally regarded as evil (and I've said as much before when discussing pre-order bonuses and other incentives to invest in games without even knowing how good they are). The reasoning is that players should be allowed to know what they're paying for, and this often means a bit of hands-on experience with the game, especially when a teaser trailer is insufficient. Trailers work for the film industry, but the most important aspect of a typical video game is — not surprisingly — the gameplay, and a trailer tells you little or nothing of that.

We care about how the game is played, how well the difficulty is balanced, and how the controls feel; unfortunately, you can't sample any of those things by watching a pre-rendered plot-focused movie-style preview. (This argument for the necessity of the playable demo isn't quite as strong in the case of a sequel, for which the continuation of a storyline is the major selling point, and in which gameplay might be expected to remain largely the same as in the previous release. However, even die-hard fans of a series will want to verify that the gameplay in the upcoming installment is up to par with that of its predecessors. And if it's not, this happens.) By failing to release a demo, a developer denies its customers the chance to gauge accurately the quality of the product first-hand, leaving them to rely on the opinions of professional reviewers and "gaming journalists" whose integrity is questionable to say the least.

If a developer refuses to release a demo, shouldn't that lack of transparency be troubling? Furthermore, if a developer actually fears that releasing a demo will result in a significant loss of sales, what does that say about their confidence in their own product? Finally, if the release of a demo does in fact lead to fewer sales, doesn't that mean the game wasn't very good? Maybe, just maybe, the release of a demo hurts sales on average because the average game just isn't very good. I'd like to think a fantastic game would only benefit from the release of a demo because people would see how great it is.

Schell, however, thinks it's less about the quality of the game, and more about the player's curiosity being satisfied — that once the player tries the game, even in the form of a demo, he or she will no longer need to buy it. To me, this is pretty unbelievable. When I download a demo, it's because I need to see the gameplay in order to decide whether to buy the game. The demo will make or break that purchase based on the apparent quality of the game alone. If I decide against the purchase, there's no "lost sale" as a result of the demo because, in the absence of a demo, I would never have bought the game at full price just to "try" it. But maybe most consumers just aren't as cautious as I am, and maybe Schell is right that a huge portion of sales are due to nothing but blind impulse.

The numbers, after all, seem to suggest as much. Still, it is exceedingly important, as always, to note that correlation does not necessarily imply causation. Moreover, with nothing to analyze but the data itself, we can't really say which way any existing causation goes. Maybe some developers didn't bother to release demos because they knew their games — perhaps sequels riding on reputation alone — were going to sell regardless. Maybe some other developers released demos to generate interest because they knew their games weren't going to sell as well as those blockbuster sequels. Or maybe that's a stretch.

In any case, while I think it's plainly obvious that Schell is at least partially right, he's being rather dramatic ignoring a lot of possible contributing factors. To say that the release of a demo is solely responsible for a 50% reduction in sales is clearly an exaggeration. Furthermore, if Schell's statement is to be taken as advice for game developers, it's pretty horrid advice. If a developer does manage to increase the sales of a certain game by failing to release an hour-long playable demo, the only sales gained will be from players who get tired of playing the game after an hour. An increase in sales will mean an equal increase in disappointed customers. But the developer doesn't care, right? Hey, kid, no refunds.

So what should we take from all this? Dubious advice and questionable arguments aside, one fact still remains: If a developer releases a trailer and no demo, their game can still sell. We know this not because of the statistics Schell cited, but because we see it happening every day. Regardless of whether the release of a demo can hurt a game's sales, we're certainly not teaching the industry that the release of a demo is a prerequisite for record-breaking pre-orders. Too many of us are buying games without knowing what they're like, and eating up whatever the industry throws at us, probably because some of us don't know any better.

Worse yet, if Schell is right about how much the release of a demo can negatively affect sales — or, more accurately, how the absence of a demo can positively affect sales — it would mean that even "smart" consumers can be pretty dumb. It would mean that even those of us who like to make informed decisions, and try games before we buy them, will buy on impulse when such informed decisions are not possible. I don't doubt that some consumers do this on occasion, but could it really be happening to such an extent that the overall affect of not releasing a demo — of keeping us ignorant — is more profit for the publishers?

I'd like to think not, but if it's true, we only have ourselves to blame.

Stop Pre-Ordering Games

I've mentioned before, in passing, my deep loathing — shared by many — for day-one DLC and pre-order bonuses.

I'm not going to pretend that the downloadable content of today is fundamentally different from the expansion packs of old; in theory, they're very similar. Expansion packs would either add content to an existing game, or act as a continuation of the game in the form of additional levels, but they were typically not as "big" (or as expensive) as the game itself. DLC almost always follows this example, albeit with a different delivery method and, thus, fewer constraints. With no discs and no shipping, selling everything in smaller pieces is no inconvenience to the publisher, which is why we're seeing ever smaller DLC "expansions" with (ideally) smaller prices than those of traditional expansion packs.

But there's another difference. While the traditional expansion pack was typically released some time after the base game, DLC is often available immediately. No doubt the industry believes this is a great thing, but not everyone agrees.

When DLC is released concurrently with the base game, people inevitably jump to the conclusion that this "extra" content belongs in the game itself, but that it was removed, and sold separately, for the sake of squeezing more money out of customers... like a car salesman selling you everything but the steering wheel and then demanding extra cash for the "extra" part. Of course, "day-one DLC" doesn't really mean that the publisher took a finished game from the developer and broke it up to be sold in pieces. It's likely that most games with DLC additions were meant to be sold this way from the very beginning, and were developed with this in mind. However, developing a game with DLC in mind still means to many that the base game will be inherently incomplete. I think we can all admit that this isn't necessarily true — a lot of these games still feel "complete" even without all the (mostly useless) add-ons — but appearances and first impressions, whether or not they're accurate, are pretty important.

Personally, I don't mind if a developer or publisher wants to sell a game in pieces. I usually ignore DLC unless I'm absolutely in love with a game and feel a compulsive need to experience every bit of it. Furthermore, most DLC consists of strictly non-essential content. Sometimes, this means purely cosmetic changes to a game, such as the character packs in Killing Floor, and I think this is a pretty harmless way for the developer to earn a few extra bucks from anyone actually willing to throw away their money for such a frivolous thing. I certainly don't feel compelled to buy this stuff, so I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

However, the same can't be said of DLC that would, for example, add extra weapons to a first-person shooter, or extra levels to the campaign mode of a story-driven game. I suspect a lot of players — completionists especially — feel that, when they buy a game, they need to own the whole game, and this drives them to pay for half a dozen little expansions that can add up to a lot of cash.

Ultimately, each of us is responsible for how we spend our own money; nobody is shoving extra content down our throats and forcing us to buy it. But when this so-called "DLC" is available on release day — and sometimes even included on the game disc, just awaiting authorization — it's typically seen as a part of the game for which we thought we already paid, not as an optional expansion to it, and uninformed customers tend to get pretty upset when they find out. While this is the source of a lot of controversy, I think it's also exactly what the publishers want. The idea that an integral part of the original game has been taken away to be sold separately is what makes us hate day-one DLC... but it's also what makes us buy it. It's a shame that the average consumer doesn't have the willpower to boycott a product.

While it wouldn't be completely crazy for me to say that DLC itself is downright evil, I don't think that's a very constructive thing to do. First of all, DLC itself isn't the problem. We're the problem. If the game industry is doing something wrong, it's partly because we reinforced that behavior with our purchases. Second of all, it's not DLC that we should hate, but rather the host of generally evil business practices that come along with it. For example, so-called day-one DLC is often used as an incentive for pre-ordering a game, or even for pre-ordering the game from a specific retail outlet. And instead of buying a game, and then buying an expansion if we really liked the game, we're encouraged to buy a game and all of its additional content at once — before the game is even released.

Welcome to the wonderful world of pre-orders and pre-order bonuses. No, don't think, just hand over your wallets.

Some DLC was just announced for Assassin's Creed III — a game which, by the way, hasn't yet been released — and all five of the upcoming DLC packs can be purchased with a $30 season pass. Add that to the usual price tag of $60 for the base game, and you've got quite a large purchase. Yes, the Gold Edition of the game (which includes this season pass) is a whopping $90. Of course, there's a benefit to buying this season pass; it's significantly cheaper than buying each DLC pack separately, for a total of $40. But I'd much rather wait until a year after release — when the game and its DLC are cheaper, and when I know whether the game is worth playing — before I spend any money.

You've probably guessed that I think pre-ordering is a horrible idea and that anyone who pre-orders anything is a mindless sheep. You guessed right. Naturally, the whole concept of a "season pass" for DLC is, to me, a bit absurd. It's essentially a pre-order for DLC which, like the game itself, might not even be good. The fact that the game is a sequel makes it all slightly less crazy — fans of the series have a pretty good idea of what the game will be like — but it doesn't seem like a great investment either way. When you pre-order not only a $60 game but also $30 worth of DLC on top of it, you're betting a whole lot of money that the game won't suck. Why not wait until after it's released so you can read some reviews and get maybe a better price? What's the benefit of pre-ordering?

In the old days, the only reason for pre-ordering was to reserve a copy of a highly anticipated game for which supply was expected to fall short of demand. It guaranteed that you'd get your game on release day instead of waiting for the next shipment while all your friends played the game without you. But the industry likes pre-ordering for another reason. It makes their sales figures look better. They get to say they sold a hundred thousand copies of their game on the first day. They get to say their game went gold before it was even released.

In the context of modern PC gaming, the word "supply" is meaningless. Just about every PC game can be downloaded; there are no shipments, and copies of a game are unlimited. So why should anyone pre-order a downloadable game? I think the industry asked itself this question and came up with an answer: pre-order bonuses. Not only do they make the absurdity of pre-purchasing a downloadable game seem a bit less absurd; they also make the foolish act of pre-ordering physical copies even more tempting.

The fact that developers would spend their time making DLC exclusively for those who pre-purchase the game — content which the rest of their fans may or may not be able to access at a later date — says a lot about the industry, namely how much value they place in those pre-orders. Could it really be all about inflating those first-day sales figures? Or could it be that they desperately want us to buy their games before anyone gets to find out if those games are worth playing? Why anyone would pay $60 for a game that hasn't even been reviewed yet is beyond me, but the industry has put a lot of effort into convincing people to do it.

Meanwhile, very few demos are being released these days, and I can't help but wonder if this is because developers are afraid that fewer people will spend money if they see what their games are like first-hand. Clearly, at the very least, they don't believe that releasing a demo has any benefit anymore, since they've already figured out how to convince millions of consumers to buy their product without even waiting for the critics to have their say.

What I'm really getting at, here, is that people who pre-purchase games are irresponsible and reckless. They're also harming the industry, and the industry is helping them do it. As consumers, we communicate with developers and publishers primarily through our purchases. No doubt the people who make video games occasionally hear our opinions, if we're loud enough, but what they really care about is where our money goes. If you hate a game after you buy it, they still have your money, and your opinion isn't going to hurt them unless you convince others not to buy the game.

So stop pre-ordering games you've never played. Stop telling developers "yes, this game is great" before you know it to be true.

I'd like to tell you all to stop buying new games entirely, since paying $60 for a new game is just a waste of money if it's going to be 75% off on Steam or Amazon less than a year after its release. Of course, there's always the argument that multiplayer games are most fun during the height of their popularity (i.e., before the community moves on to better things) and that waiting too long to play them means missing out on the fun. But if an online community dies so fast that you need to buy the game on day one to get in on the action, the game is probably terrible anyway.

Maybe if we all think a little more carefully about our purchases, developers will focus more on making games enjoyable and worthwhile, instead of coming up with a thousand other ways to get our money more quickly and more often.