Capitalism, Fun, and Games
OR Why It Works Best In-Game for the Same Reasons I Hate It In-Reality
Conflict is an inherent element of most games, from the most brutal shooter games to the most mundane walking simulator. Be it protagonist against an opposing (but still human) force, against nature itself, against society, or against the protagonist themselves, conflict drives players from the start towards the end. Conflict is fundamentally the desire to win against an opponent, whatever form that opponent takes: the Locust horde, the mystery of your missing sister, or competing capitalists in the same region.
Capitalism is, by design, an ideal way to play and approach finances in games, and games in general. Capitalism calls for domination, for victory. It has the high points of investment and chance, of starting with nothing and ending with everything. It provides something to strive for, to save for. It is, itself, a game filled with innumerable moving parts that players can manipulate for their benefit and their opponents’ downfalls. Victory is never so sweet as when it’s on the failed husks of your financial foes. Right?
Go Directly to Jail, you filthy capitalist
The old standby, Monopoly, is the best and worst of capitalism in-game, smashed into one slow-burning slog-fest that may end friendships (or has ended friendships…my condolences).
All players start with, in a sense, nothing, save for a “small loan” of 1500 Monopoly Dollars (Monollars?). The first few runs around the board are, in my experience, thrilling: acquiring different properties across the board, trying to stake your claim, praying to chance and dice that you roll what you need to buy what you want. Going to Jail is a punishment, lower rents are manageable to pay for, and everyone has a great time. Then, the game hits a point where it becomes…painful.
Trades begin happening. Monopolies start to be acquired. Houses and hotels are bought, then mortgaged again. Properties are mortgaged. The board becomes a minefield of barren and abandoned properties, explosive rent traps that cost hundreds of Monollars to land on littering the one-way road. Sitting and wasting in jail becomes a blessing. It’s competitive, but from a certain perspective, becomes painfully dull after this painful point. Only one player can win, and it’s only by draining the others of everything they have.
What’s worse, when players declare bankruptcy, there’s nothing more for them to do. They can either sit and watch the slow-burn of eventual (hopeful) endgame, or they can leave. The few times I’ve played a traditional game of Monopoly with people in recent years, those who declared bankruptcy just packed up and left. There’s nothing for them, no state of play that keeps them in the game. The only time Monopoly is entertaining for everyone after this point of pain is when the Game Grumps are having comical breakdowns about the superiority of computer players and the impending crush of bankruptcy.
Other player vs. player games, like Settlers of Catan or Machi Koro, only end when someone has achieved a win-state, not when all other players have been eliminated from play. Everyone stays in the game until the end. Monopoly, like capitalism, is not considerate of others’ wants or needs, only of those who have the most.
This is all not even mentioning that Monopoly’s main mechanic, charging ever-increasing amounts of money for housing, is the route to victory. Landlords thrive off of this passive income, siphoning from what little people already have for a basic human necessity. While players never see or experience these tenants in-game, it lays the foundation for profit over people in players.
But wait, this is all about how Capitalism + Game = Good! Even though Monopoly itself was effectively stolen from its original creator, its original concept (the ills of capitalism in rent, and how it is inherently designed to enrich the more powerful property owners by impoverishing tenants) cast aside in favor of market domination and decimation of opponents. Oops.
Save Humanity. Turn a Profit. But Only One Dictates Win-State
What scares me the most about interplanetary travel and existence is how easy it would be (or presently is) for capitalism to absolutely take a dump on it. Offworld Trading Company (Mohawk Games) is an unsettling realization of that concern, but unlike a round of Monopoly, is engaging enough as a game to keep the likes of me coming back. It leans so wonderfully into the tenants of capitalism as gameplay, without the slog that is necessitated by late-stage Monopoly. You’ve heard about Ludonarrative Dissonance, now experience Ludoeconomical Dissonance!
Players, after completing the informative (and simultaneously tongue-in-cheek) tutorial will be equipped to start playing. Multiple corporations surround a Martian settlement and must mine, forge, and harness energy and resources from the planetscape. By doing so, they stand to profit from the needs of the settlement and, in time, absorb their competition as subsidiaries. The tenant of domination is on full-display, and unlike Monopoly, will not make you watch to the end of the game; when you’re out, you’re out, so just try again! Even a failed capitalist has the resources to give it another swing!
Fluctuating stock and market prices rise and fall based on the goings-on and the resources in-play, and there is nothing stopping a player from flooding the market with a surplus of resource to tank that economy…or just hacking the market to create an artificial surplus or deficit. Anything to get ahead in this brave new capitalist hellscape!
Additionally, through more illicit sources, corporations can target their opponents workers and structures by inciting strikes, siccing pirates on transport ships, blasting buildings with EMPs or triggering subterranean nuclear warheads to diminish resource availability! All to get ahead! Besides, you never have to worry about attending the funerals of the workers that were in the structure you effectively bombed. Capitalism!
Where it further diverges from the likes of Monopoly, OTC relies less on chance and dice rolls and more on planning and strategy. Different corporations operate differently by way of their primary resource consumption, how they most effectively build new structures, and general perks (easier access to the black market, additional land claims, etc.), so players have to adjust their playstyle depending on what approach their corporation necessitates.
But the endgame is the same: buying out your competition and absorbing their corporation into your own, until only one corporation is left ruling and profiting on the needs of the settlement. Food, water, oxygen, everything to survive can be (and is) sold to the settlement throughout the game. Even in the throes of cosmic expansion and human survival, capitalism will continue to priorities profits over, not just people, but the long-term wellbeing of humanity. But hey, little fireworks go off if you’re the last corp standing. We like fireworks.
A Quick, Fantastic Aside
I grew up playing the Final Fantasy rereleases on the Game Boy Advance. Timeless though they are for their plots and casts of characters, I remember it wasn’t just my character level that would dictate my ability to progress in the story: it was my gear, too. Weapons, armor, items, all invaluable in my various dungeoning, all cost money. To get the gear, I had to get the money. To get the money, I’d have to either sell items that I might need later, or go kill a bunch of monsters and come back with their blood money. But just like the characters’ levels, the threshold for gear served as a pacing mechanic: like the game telling me, “you might want this before you venture to the next spot.” You can see it in Pokémon and the Chrono series, among other RPG (role-playing game) titles. It’s a fascinating little element of capitalism and the feudal market not being a complete dumpster fire in-practice.
Roll 3d20 for how ingrained capitalism is in-world
So, board games have the potential for capitalist emulation, video games are more actively realizing the potential, but maybe you prefer to be with your character sheets and dice and NOPE capitalism is in your TTRPGs, too! In a sense, that dynamic can all be based on the old adage from my English classes: “write what you know.” Many people in positions to create TTRPG (tabletop role-playing game) systems have only known capitalism in their lives, ergo, capitalism in the system.
How those resources are tracked varies from system to system. Dungeons & Dragons (5th Edition), for example, has designated spaces for characters to specifically track the five types of currency found in most settings. Call of Cthulhu (7th Edition), on the other hand, doesn’t track finances explicitly, opting to hold resources behind a Credit Rating, dictating how easily a character can acquire such items or services. No matter how finances and wealth are presented mechanically, the acquisition, use, and exchange of those finances are still central to a great many tabletop adventure.
Narratively, characters’ relationships with money in a generally-capitalist society can serve to highlight differences in the party’s characters, their upbringings, and the resources available to them. In a campaign I’m playing in right now, my generally destitute wizard is constantly giving our “family-got-money” paladin flak for not being able to do things when he never learned how to do them (due to privilege and resources), and he subsequently berates my wizard for hoarding resources and not taking advantage of opportunities when they present themselves.
Similarly to their use in video game RPGs, some items can be out of players’ reaches in terms of cost, and can result in a quest to acquire the funds to get their precious, continuing the cyclical and conflict-based dynamic of capitalism-as-conflict. However, most TTRPG players jump right past the capitalist fundamentals and into threats of arson (or just arson), finances be damned. That just leads into a new kind of conflict! One with fire and threats of physical violence and probably being barred from town.
Why It Works
In each of these varied examples, capitalism works (despite my own laments) because it is all self-contained. The capitalist systems are specific to Monopoly, or Offworld Trading Company, or your games of Dungeons & Dragons, and hold sway, influence, and power in that world, over your characters and games. Conflict is what drives us through a story, and all its smaller beats, from beginning to end, and capitalism can be a driving or contributing force to those conflicts, just based on how it works in-practice.
Capitalist in the Game, Socialist in the Not-Game
Now, due to my own experiences, upbringing, and resources, I’ve unabashedly been a fan of socialism for quite some time. The thought working together as a collective for the betterment of the collective, while not having to concern ourselves with the financial elements of our survival (housing chief among them), is super appealing to me. But it doesn’t work as well in-game, due to socialism’s removal of capitalism’s inherent conflict.
One would be hard-pressed to create a game like Offworld Trading Company that lacked the same financial stakes as capitalism provides. Monopoly would be absolutely gutted without the need to charge other players for rent or other basic needs. Even in TTRPG-lands, I haven’t discovered (although I’m sure plenty exist) a system that tosses aside money in a full sense, but I’m excited for explorers in my own campaign-world to stumble upon the region operating on favor economies. The faces when they realize their gold is worthless will be priceless.
Arguably, a number of MMORPGs operate on that kind of barter economy, especially with side quests. Someone will send you out to do some mundane task (collect mushrooms, deliver letters, kill God), and then reward you with an item or service you need or want.
But socialism’s lack, or at least diminishment, of conflict is why I prefer that to capitalism’s “I’ll use your skull as a step on the way to the top” mentality. I don’t want to worry about the things I need to survive in the real world, nor would it negatively effect my ability or desire to contribute to the collective. But in game-world, in pretend-land? Hell yeah, hit me up with that sweet, sweet finance-based conflict.
Think about money and how it’s presented the next time you’re exploring a gameworld, no matter what medium you’re playing on. Think about how much it impacts how you play, how you approach problems due to it (or with it), how it factors into winning. Fascinating stuff. Terrifying stuff when you apply it to reality, but that’s a revolution for another day.
