The Overpromise and The Underdeliver

As I scavenge my way through This War of Mine for next weeks video game article I wanted to discuss a game I haven't played. Actually this isn't about a specific game, but an opportunity to commiserate with those who suffer and offer a warning of a sort.

Ok, it is sort of about a specific game, No Man's Sky, which released about two weeks ago. There were some problems, backlash, and unintended headaches involved in the initial event which are still sending out shock waves today.

but they'll have heard horror stories from friends, or seen articles about the latest deception. Whether it was Fable, Spore, Watch Dog, Space Base DF-9, or Aliens: Colonial Marines, a whole litany of gaes were overly hyped by their creators.

The issue centers around two components: the overpromise and the preorder.

Ever since mankind came together and foolishly constructed the first city in the Fertile Crescent humanity was doomed to suffer from the overpromise. Some entrepreneurial soul, free from the worry of the hunt and sustained by his slaves, looked out upon his herd of camels, and realized he could sell camel spit for more than the fresh water of his wells, if only he extolled its incredible, but imaginary, health benefits.

The technique has become more refined over time, to the detriment of trust and the fostering of cynicism. Yet there is a near endless supply of naive consumers, still innocently willing to believe the speeches, screenshots, and demos of publishing companies. They are the young!

Companies have realized children have little experience with advertising deception: a person can say there's a bunch of features in a game, and he doesn't care that they were all cut three months ago. Succeeding generations have experienced their own unique catastrophes including Fable, Spore, Watch Dog, Space Base DF-9, Aliens: Colonial Marines, and others depending on one's age and preferred genre.

Most gamers beyond the age of twenty have probably experienced at least once the bitter sadness (or anger depending on personal preference) of a game which failed to deliver core features. Hopefully they learned from their mistake, as this understanding of the overpromise is pretty useful for other spheres as well (cars, foods, houses, and so on).

This article isn't about making fun of anyone for falling for the trick, nor is this author too pretentious to admit their own errors.

My singular heartrending mistake revolved around Bioware and the Mass Effect series. Already some reader is shaking their head in a mix of empathy (because they've suffered) and self-conceit (because, in this case, they knew better). When I first watched a friend playing the original Mass Effect on the Xbox 360, it didn't seem unique or particularly interesting. I couldn't understand how a game which combined an RPG with a third person shooter could function. I played a bit at some point, but didn't purchase it till 2010. After finishing it in a few days, I immediatly played Mass Effect 2 as it had just been released.

In spite of my initial reservations I loved Mass Effect: the high level of customization, the expansive and well designed universe, the engaging characters, and the slightly frustrating but ultimately satisfying combat.

Mass Effect 2 still contained the engaging characters of the original and added its own, but the rest of the game was inferior. Though the combat and rpg elements were obviously reduced in complexity (to entice the first-person shooter mob) the cracks around the story were harder to see, and to many, obvious only in retrospect. Yet my attachment was assured and I waited impatiently for the finale.

I can't remember why I pre-ordered Mass Effect 3. It wasn't for any particular benefit. I didn't purchase some sort of deluxe edition. All I received from the pre-order was a special aesthetic armor bonus I didn't care about, and the ability to pre-install. I could play sooner, by a few hours.

Maybe you've heard the game was a bit of a mess, Earth being swallowed up by the Sun sort of mess (someone on the internet writing a book length criticism and me willing to read it mess), with occasional moments of brilliance. I won't rehash the past, but feel free to know it inflicted upon me a minor devastation. Not the sort that causes one to think their life is over, but the sort that occurs when seventy hours are spent on a ultimately disastrous game, the sort that occurs when a three book series expands to seven and drivels out bit by bit, or the sort when a sci-fi trilogy series expands by three new movies which tarnish the originals forever!

The developers promised more than they could deliver either out of a belief they would provide the product, or they lied so they could sell more games. Maybe a mix of both. No one has any problem with a creator's hopes for a project, all the cool complexities and features it will contain, but those who speak for a game should only describe what the game contains.

The advent of the Steam Greenlight (2014), Steam Early Access (2013), the internet (!), and ability of companies to easily patch, adjust, and modify already released games (?), has only expanded the number of games purchased before the product is complete, and raised the question of: when is a game complete.

As declaimed at the beginning, this article was inspired by the recent kerfuffle over No Man's Sky, a game which promised a unique universe of nearly an infinite number of planets, the main problem being (among many), they're apparently all the same. Not having played the game, because I no longer buy games before or within a month of release, I perused reviewers such as Angry Joe and reviewed comments on Reddit. In short the developer overpromised and failed to deliver the many features they claimed were in the game.

As the player base fell by ninety percent after the first week; Steam, the Playstation Network, and Amazon began to quietly offer refunds no matter the amount of time already invested in the game. Or they didn't because I've heard conflicting rumors.

If the refund story is true, it's incredible considering PSN only allows refunds for games which have not been played, and Steam only allows refunds within two weeks of purchase and a maximum of two hours played. 

To conclude, many fans of the game (which apparently is a much smaller segment than those who purchased it) are lambasting those who returned it after playing more than fifty hours. Look, I'm not sure where the line should be drawn by companies, but it shouldn't be devised by a fan who is all worked up about some stranger not loving the game as much as they do. If a person played a game for one hundred hours because they kept searching for the promised features, they're dissatisfied, and the company is offering a refund, the issue appears to be between the company and them, not you!

Hello Games, the developer of No Man's Sky, may chose to update the game over the next year and add in the features they failed to deliver, but one can't hold out hope, nor offer any justifications on such flimsy offerings.

But really, the lesson which undoubtedly many people have learned by now (and just as many have missed) is don't pay for something until it's been reviewed by a trustworthy source and it's in your hand (unless you don't mind financing someone else's creative project. Then go for it).

But also, try to empathize with those who make mistakes, because someday you will too.