NFT games aren’t games, they’re crypto casinos
My first console was a Sega Game Gear. It ate AA batteries like kit-kats in exchange for two glorious hours of playing Sonic or NBA Jam. Despite the limitations, I stripped batteries out of wall clocks, tv remotes, and my brothers’ remote-control cars to play these games.
Why? I wasn’t expecting some sort of material reward for curb stomping Dr. Robotnik. I didn’t get paid when I smashed a dunk in with backboard-pulverizing seismic force in NBA Jam. I just enjoyed the games. They were fun, cool stuff happened, and most importantly, I was able to get an experience I couldn’t get anywhere else.
When I first loaded into Axie Infinity, a widely heralded NFT game, I was immeasurably disappointed. The graphics are so rudimentary they’re childish. The Axies are one of the laziest pieces of art I’ve ever seen: globular creatures with a Mr. Potato Head assortment of basic facial features. Compared to games like Genshin Impact, Pokemon, or even the literal Adult Swim joke game Pocket Morties, Axie Infinity has nothing new to offer.
Sadly, it has nothing old to offer either. Features that were commonplace in older Pokemon games, like an open world, boss fights, a storyline, palatable music, or unique characters are entirely missing from the game. The experience is not just one that has been done before, it’s one that has been done before ad nauseum. This isn’t the future of gaming. It’s barely the past. It’s Neopets on Ritalin as imagined by a 47 year old stockbroker and programmed by a sophomore computer science student.
I can feel the seething rage of crypto bros leaking through my screen. “That isn’t why people play crypto games.” You’re right. No one is playing Axie Infinity because it’s a good game. Just like no one is playing Roulette for pleasure, or at home having a peaceful night in with the family over Baccarat and Craps. These games are a means to an end. Get an NFT creature (who cares what it looks like?) or an asset (who cares what it does?) and sell it to make more money. There’s no skill, no inherent draw in playing the game beyond just pulling the lever time and again hoping to pull something rare out of the box.
“The assets have verifiable rarity.” A CS:GO #387 Karambit Case Hardened Blue Gem sells for $600,000 on the secondary market. Why? It’s blindingly rare. If anyone had the incentive to forge this knife skin, it would be the CS:GO market. Would you mind taking a guess as to how many fake 387 Karambit Case Hardened Blue Gems are floating around? Zero. Why? Because Valve is the creator of the game, and such are the only ones who can create this skin. It already has verifiable rarity and non-fungibility because there is only one system that needs to verify it: Valve. There’s no need to use the annual electrical pull of Greenland to verify the skin is authentic. We already know.
It’s time for a shift. NFT games are just a way of legitimizing an existing gray market. It’s unregulated, tax-free gambling. With the pretense of being an actual gaming experience out of the way, it’s far easier to design something that does its job better. NFT gambling is a great way to verify that the casino’s odds aren’t bent, or that payout is guaranteed, or any of a thousand other issues. But NFTs will never and can never replace the triple A game market, or even the F2P game market.
NFT games are being heralded as the future of games, but when you see people saying this, pay attention to who they are. It’s never streamers, video game addicts, or esports pros. NFT games have their place just like every other online casino. But don’t pretend they’re anything more than that.
