Video Game Business Models

I see an opportunity, particularly for indie game developers, in developing new business models for sellings games. There are currently three predominant business models in the gaming industry:

1. The major retail model: release a game for $60 in major retail outlets, with a huge marketing push, looking for a big launch week payout. Steadily lower the retail price by $5 or $10 a couple of times a year as it ages, until it eventually ends up in the $10 bargain bin. In the meantime, release DLC or expansions to try to get more money out of existing players, and raise the total cost for those buying the game late for $20 at retail up to or above the original $60 price tag.
2. The subscription model: the game itself is cheap or free, but players must pay a monthly fee (usually around $15) to play the game. This is most common in the MMO genre, but can be seen elsewhere as well.
3. The "freemium" model: the game itself is free, but players pay for in-game items, bonuses, avatars, skins, or other unlockable content, on a per-item basis. This is most commonly done with a points system, where players buy points with cash, and then spend the points on in-game items. This is particularly popular with mobile games, but is fairly widespread in general.

All three have found great success with the big game publishing houses, and the last one has found a good deal of success for indie game developers. But that last option doesn't work with all game types, and has two possible outcomes: either all the purchasable content is purely aesthetic, and doesn't seem worth paying for, or it offers real in-game advantages, and gives players the option to "pay to win", leaving those who can't or don't pay feeling unfairly handicapped.

I think there's another option waiting in the wings, however; I call it the value model, for lack of a better term, and it works something like this: release a game at a very low price point, and do the exact opposite of the major retail model. Players can purchase the game at any time and gain access to all content, past, present, and future. As content is added through updates and expansions, the price goes up accordingly with value. This has several effects on the sales dynamic:

• For indie developers, releasing at an initial low price point can help to boost sales when a large marketing budget is unavailable, and help to fund further development. It's also easier to sell a game at a lower price point before it gets popular, and easier to set a higher price point as popularity increases.
• For players, it helps to avoid feeling like they're being swindled, or continuously squeezed for more money; they know up front what they're paying, they know what they're getting right away, and if it's worth it, then whatever content (which is free for them) is a welcome bonus.
• From a marketing perspective, it gives the opportunity for a reverse discount: if you announce ahead of time that new content will be released (and therefor the price will be going up), it can push people to make the purchase (to lock in the lower price while guaranteeing the upcoming content) the same way a true discount would, without actually having to lower the price. The price is effectively reduced because prospective buyers are aware that the price is about to increase.

Does anyone know of any examples of such a model being used for games? I've seen it occasionally in game content (e.g. Unity assets and the like), but I don't think I've seen it for a public game release. I'd be happy to hear thoughts on the subject in the comments!

Convenience Languages

I've come to see the uncertainty of untyped and interpreted languages as something of a curse. In a strongly typed, compiled language, you know ahead of time that the code is at least trying to do what you want it to; you know you didn't typo any variable, function, method, or class names. You know you didn't misuse or misunderstand a function, passing one type when another is required. Sanitizing inputs and returns is a matter of checking bounds, not types. Type-safe comparison is a non-issue.

After working with PHP and JavaScript extensively, as well as dabbling in Perl, Python, and Ruby, I miss the basic assurance you get from a language like C/C++, C#, or Java that if it compiles, nothing is completely wrong. Even in HTML, you can validate the markup. But in PHP or JavaScript, you probably don't know about even a major, simple error until run-time testing (unit or functional).

To me, that's a nightmare. I miss knowing. I miss that little bit of certainty and stability. With an untyped interpreted language, you may never be 100% certain that you've not made a silly but fatal mistake somewhere that your tests just didn't happen to catch.

These are languages of convenience: easy to learn, quick to implement small tasks, ubiquitous. But they just aren't professional-grade equipment.

Developing software is both an art and a science. I make an effort every day not to just be a coder, but to be a code poet. That's hard to do on the unsure footing of a dynamic language. I won't argue that these languages let you do some neat tricks; on the other hand, I also won't discuss the performance issues. My concern is purely quality.

Is it possible to write quality code in a dynamic language? Absolutely. Unfortunately, it's harder, and far more rare - not just because it's challenging. It's mainly temptation. Why would the language offer global variables if you weren't supposed to use them? Why have dynamic typing at all if you aren't going to have variables and function return values that could have various types depending on the context? Even with the best intentions, you can commit these Crimea against code accidentally, without even knowing it until you finally track down that pesky bug 6 months down the road.

Using (and abusing) these sorts of language features makes for messy, sloppy, confusing, unreadable code that can be an extraordinary challenge to debug. Add to that the fact IDEs are severely handicapped with these languages, unable to offer much - if any - information on variables and functions, and unable to detect even the simplest of errors. That's because variable types and associated errors only exist at runtime; and while an IDE can rapidly attempt to compile a source file and use that to detect errors, it can't possibly execute every possible code path in order to determine what type(s) a variable might contain, or function might return.

I know most of this has been said before, and every new language will inspire a new holy war. I'm writing this more because all of the above leads me to wonder about the growing popularity of dynamic languages like Python, Ruby and JavaScript, and the continued popularity of PHP. Anyone care to shed some light on the subject in the comments?

Simplicity, Flexibility, and Agility

Agile programming is supposed to be about flexibility in the face of changing requirements. It's supposed to be about rapid development and iteration. But all too often it ends up being like classical methodologies in many ways. Many agile methodologies drown developers in process, taking time away from development. Test-driven development is a brilliant concept, but it puts more time between planning and iteration, making it more difficult to deal with changing requirements, not easier, and increasing the burden of change and the cost of refactoring.

Every developer wants carefully, precisely defined requirements. Developers often try to handle changing requirements by developing for flexibility, but flexibility often comes at the cost of added complexity. Trying to write-in endless flexibility to allow for changing requirements is very much akin to premature optimization. You end up doing a whole lot of work to make some code "better" - more flexible in this case, versus more performant in the case of optimization - when you don't yet know which code really needs it and which code doesn't.

"There are two ways of constructing a software design: One way is to make it so simple that there are obviously no deficiencies, and the other way is to make it so complicated that there are no obvious deficiencies." --C. A. R. Hoare 

Often the best way to maintain flexibility is through simplicity. A program that meets its requirements with the simplest possible implementation is one that will be naturally flexible, maintainable, stable, and manageable.Of course, intelligent development plays a major role; making appropriate use of design patterns can do a lot to improve both flexibility and simplicity. Key design tenets like DRY, YAGNI, separation of concerns, and avoiding premature optimization (including overarchitecting for flexibility) help keep complexity down and productivity up.

What if requirements change? What if the simplest possible solutions isn't as extensible? Good news: having invested in the simplest possible solution, you've lost little in development. You haven't built anything that wasn't strictly necessary. The new solution will still aim for simplicity, still reap the same rewards. By keeping things simple, you've kept down the cost of change.

Software development is a learning process by nature; you're building something that's never been done before, or at least building something in a way that's never been done before. Innovation is at its heart, and learning is the personal experience of innovation. That being the case, every iteration has value in what's learned, even if the code is later removed or replaced. The experience of writing it adds value to the team, and the team defines the value of the end product.

Many readers may think of targeting simplicity as a given, but it truly isn't; while simplicity is often a goal, all too frequently it takes a back seat to other concerns, or is abandoned altogether because simplicity becomes far more difficult to achieve with many of the popular frameworks and libraries available today. Frameworks have to aim for maximum flexibility in order to be successful; in order to be general-purpose, they can't make many assumptions, and they have to account for a whole host of different usage scenarios and edge cases. This increases the complexity of the framework, and accordingly, the complexity of any implementation using the framework. The fewer assumptions the framework can make, the more effort a developer has to put in just telling the framework what she's trying to accomplish.

I can't count how many implementations I've seen that are drastically more complex than necessary, simply because they have been forced to apply the conventions required by their chosen framework; and even following those conventions, they're still left managing arcane configuration files, and tracking down bugs becomes an epic undertaking requiring delving deep into the inner workings of the framework and libraries. All too often, the quick-start "hello world" app is far more complex with a framework than without it, and adding functionality only makes the situation more bleak.

So, what does all this add up to? Here's the bullet-point version:

• If you're aiming for agility - the ability to adapt quickly to changing requirements - don't invest too much time on nailing down requirements. Get as much detail as you can, and start iterating. If you're planning for requirements to change, go all the way - assume that your initial requirements are wrong, and think of each iteration as an opportunity to refine the requirements. All code is wrong until proven right by user acceptance.
• Use interface mockups (for software with a UI) or API documentation (for libraries and services) as a tool to give stakeholders a chance to revise requirements while looking at a proposed solution and thinking about using it in real-world scenarios.
• Don't choose flexibility or modularity over simplicity. Choose a framework that won't get in your way; if there isn't one, then don't use a framework at all. Don't write what you don't need. Don't turn a piece of code into a general-purpose API just because you might need to use it again. If you need it in multiple places now, separate it out; otherwise, you can refactor it when it's appropriate.
• Think about separation of concerns early in the game, but don't sacrifice simplicity for the sake of compartmentalization. Simple code is easier to refactor later if refactoring turns out to be necessary. Overarchitecting is the same sin as premature optimization, it's just wearing a nicer suit.
• The simplest solution isn't always the easiest. The simplest solution often requires a lot of thought and little code. Don't be a code mason, laying layer after layer of brick after brick; be a code poet, making every line count. If a change could be implemented by increasing the complexity of existing code, or by refactoring the existing code to maintain simplicity, always take the latter route; you'll end up spending the same amount of time either way, but will reap far more benefits by maintaining simplicity as a priority.
• Simplicity carries a great many implicit benefits. Simpler code is very often faster (and easier to optimize), more stable (and easier to debug), cleaner (and easier to refactor), and clearer to read and comprehend. This reduces development, operational, and support costs across the board.
• Simplicity doesn't just mean "less code", it means better code. SLOC counts don't correlate directly to complexity.
• Don't reinvent the wheel - unless you need to. All wheels aren't created equal; there's a reason cars don't use the same wheels as bicycles.

What are your experiences? What ways have you found to keep hold of simplicity in the face of other pressures? Feedback is welcome in the comments!

Dynamic Playlists

There is a feature I miss from Audion, which they removed before they retired the app entirely, that I have yet to see recreated in any other music player. It was simple. It was brilliant. I want it back.

Basically, Audion used to allow you to group tracks in your playlists into folders, and - this is the important part - check or uncheck folders to include or exclude them from the playlist, temporarily.

Big deal, right? iTunes lets you check or uncheck songs, and you can multi-select and do a bunch at once. Except that it unchecks them everywhere, not just in that playlist, and you still have to do your multi-select by hand every time.

The beauty of this was it gave playlists a sort of dynamic quality: I could have a playlist with folders for happy tracks, funny tracks, angry tracks, sad tracks, tracks with a good beat, tracks with a fast beat, etc. and so on. Then, depending on my mood, I could check, say, happy songs and songs with a good beat, when I'm in a good mood. Or angry songs and songs with a fast beat, when I'm looking to play some first-person shooters. And if my mood changes an hour later, I can uncheck parts and check other parts and it will just keep shuffling through whatever is active when it comes time to pick the next track. It was brilliant.

And I miss it, and I want it back. iTunes doesn't do it, WinAmp doesn't do it, Songbird doesn't do it, VLC doesn't do it... nobody does. And it doesn't seem like it should be necessary to write an entire music player just to get this one feature; maybe one day I'll get up the nerve to modify Songbird or VLC to do it. Or maybe, sometime between now and then, some kind-hearted developer will hear my pleas and implement it in their player. Who knows.

If anybody out there knows of a player that does have this functionality, please, let me know in the comments... I'd be forever grateful!

On New Tricks, Old Hacks, and Web Browsers

I must say, I'm a little curious why I haven't seen mention of this before; a quick Google search didn't turn anything up either. For the last, oh, ten years or so, web designers have been wrestling with all the different browsers, and different versions of each browser, to get their web pages to behave the same - or at the very least, behave relatively well - on all the browsers their users are likely to employ.

The whole time, the W3C has been releasing new standards and new versions of old standards to give web designers new tricks... and every time, the browsers all catch up to the new standards at different speeds, and implement different parts of the standards, or implement them slightly differently.

My question, then, is this: why is there no W3C specification for browser detection? Why can't I use CSS selectors to target certain styles at certain browsers, without resorting to lousy hacks? Even CSS3's new media queries allow me to check the screen size before applying styles, but not whether or not the browser supports, say, CSS3 Of course, it'll take forever for designers to be able to count on all the browsers supporting a new feature like that, but I haven't even seen a proposal.

Today, putting together a design involves pulling up your design in all the browsers, figuring out what works and what doesn't, and then applying hacks specific to each browser. Life would be so much easier in the web design world if instead you could say something like, "if the browser doesn't support CSS3 background properties, apply this style instead."

Suddenly, I don't need to use the hack that hides CSS from IE, and the other hack that hides CSS from everything but IE, and test it, and then find another set of hacks for the Android browser, and another for FireFox, and so on. I can apply styles logically by selecting for specific features, rather than selecting for specific browsers, then having to keep up with the features of each browser - because the features are all I really care about as a designer.

I would much rather "hack" for specific features than specific browsers because it's more intuitive, and it's less work to support multiple browsers and different versions of each browser. The browser makers know what features they support. If I can select for the features I want to use, I don't have to worry about keeping up-to-date with what features are supported by what versions of what browsers.

I'm bringing it up on the W3C mailing list, but I thought I would bring it up here... I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!