We’re gonna flock onto the Empire Avenue

I’ve spent the past two weeks taking part in the beta version of Empire Avenue: a new social-media based game that lets people and businesses “trade” each other like stocks.  The twist in this game is that your share value — your value — increases and decreases according to your influence.

Empire Avenue features a rich and addictive web site, where you can find and connect with other people and businesses by buying, selling, and trading shares in them.  In-game currency is awarded by winning achievements, by getting others to buy shares in you, by participating in social media networks, and by earning dividends from the shares you own in others.

The currency is fake, but it is driven by influence.  If you tweet like a mad person, or blog like a mad person, or update your Facebook status like a mad person, your share price inches up over the course of a day.  Overnight, after the market “closes”, your share prices is adjusted further based on your daily activity.  The formula that the game uses to calculate price increases and decreases is secret, but we are led to believe that it has something to do with a rolling average of activity (meaning bursts of activity over your “normal” level help your share price go up, and vice versa).  Increased output is encouraged to help your stock price go up, but if you try to “game” the system by creating more content, you’d better be able to keep your output level up, or your stock price will eventually plummet.  Speculation abounds as to what other factors might affect your share price: your activity on the game site, your number of Twitter followers, the number of blogs you have and your output on them, the number and quality of RSS feeds hooked up to your account, the number of people who comment on your Facebook status, etc.

I am fascinated by this game because it ties success to “real world” activity — inasmuch as the “Internet” approximates the “real world”, I suppose.  And like all incentive-based activity-and-location-aware games that tie our everyday lives to “achievement” (Foursquare, I’m looking at you), many players are caught between being rewarded for the lives they live, and living for the rewards they can get.  I’ve been caught, on Empire Avenue and elsewhere: when Foursquare first came to town, I used it obsessively and rapidly discovered that outscoring my friends each week either meant bending the rules, or finding excuses to visit businesses I wouldn’t otherwise visit, just to spend money I wouldn’t otherwise spend.  I recognized the same impulse with Empire Avenue, but followed it anyway, because I’m human: I tweeted more than usual; blogged more than usual.  Output increased; quality decreased.  And I started to feel dirty.

The good news about these incentive-based games is that the sharp, adrenal thrill of the incentive wears off.  I’m at that point with Foursquare (though it has taken me a while to get there) but since Empire Avenue has an even more direct and long-term impact on my “public speaking” output and my online persona, I think the shine is rubbing off even more quickly.  I’m happy to stay “on the Avenue” (for now, at least) because people’s behaviour really does fascinate me, but I simply will not allow the game to dictate how I should grow my influence.  I prefer to let that grow or shrink on its own merit, thank you.

The team behind Empire Avenue is really on to something, and while they’re not quiet about their motives, I think many players may be unaware.  Here’s the deal: under the umbrella of an addictive game that measures the influence of a person or business, they are actually developing a system that can help businesses figure out where to spend their advertising dollars.  As an example: let’s say I am a person whose content is seen by many people, is shared by many people, and is trusted by many people.  This means my share price is high; I am valuable because of my influence.  Now let’s say that I have told the Empire that I’m a huge fan of a company called WidgetCo (How? Well, as an Empire Avenue player, I am rewarded for listing my interests and my favorite brands on my profile.  In fact, I can earn achievements for adding as many of these as I can think of).  When the marketing department for WidgetCo is looking for places to invest their advertising dollar, they will see that I have influence and am already a fan of WidgetCo.  WidgetCo pays to advertise with me; I will likely pay Empire a cut for helping to connect us; and WidgetCo is assured that my interests and influence will make their advertising investment valuable.  Ingenious: just like with Facebook, I am the product… not the customer.

CBC’s Spark did a very timely interview with Jesse Schell on this topic a couple of months ago, and it may have subconsciously fed my impulse to write this post.  The whole thing is well worth a listen, but for the bit that is relevant to this blog post, listen from the 8-minute mark through to about the 19-minute mark, and the 26-minute mark through the 30-minute mark.

I can’t help but wonder: since games feature so prominently in our lives, and since we seem to crave turning almost anything into a game in order to motivate behaviour, how much of the high-stakes, life-and-death activity in our society is actually driven by peoples’ compulsion to “win” at playing the system?  The adage goes that it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye: what are the implications when the stock market, the health care system, and the electoral system become more like games and less like systems with real-world implications?

Deep.

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