Mediaculture: Reflections on the effect of media and culture on our faith
Consumerism has yet another face. Now you not only can buy yourself a new sweater online, you can buy one for your avatar (and I’m not referring to James Cameron’s film).
Sales of virtual goods are booming, writes Jayne O’Donnell at usatoday.com. “Even though many virtual goods cost less than $1, these micropurchases add up,” she writes. “The market will reach about $1 billion this year and could grow to $1.6 billion next year, according to a report by market researcher Inside Network.”
According to O’Donnell, virtual buying works like this: “You typically use a credit card or alternative payment method such as PayPal to buy credits or a special currency if the game or world has one. Then you use those credits, or ‘Linden dollars’ if you’re shopping in the Second Life virtual world, to make purchases.”
Other sites, such as Cellufun or Facebook, have their own currency or ways of making purchases or earning credits.
This growth industry is driven by the popularity of social gaming, according to Inside Network founder Justin Smith. Apparently this can be done over the lunch hour and on mobile devices.
While this is a big business and getting bigger, it was new to me when I heard about it at a coffee break at work. (Yes, we actually talk to one another occasionally, in the flesh.)
I’m borrowing from O’Donnell to describe this because I haven’t participated in such social gaming. But it’s worth paying attention to this phenomena because it’s one more way our mediaculture is affecting us and the people around us.
I’m tempted to belittle this as adults playing with dolls (avatars), but many would judge some of my habits silly or of no good use, I imagine, so I’ll forgo that criticism.
Instead it raises questions we should perhaps be discussing. For example, what moves people to do this? Not just buying clothes or jewelry for one’s avatar but social gaming.
That’s easy. We’re all drawn to games or play, even the most workaholic among us. This is just a different venue from the dining room table or the basketball court or wherever you play your games.
And the social part makes sense. We are social creatures and need company, even the most introverted among us.
But virtual socializing? Is that because the flesh-and-blood kind is not available or as safe? Or is it just the millieu that many (mostly younger) people are familiar with?
Is this one more indictment of the church’s failure to reach out to people who are lonely?
Maybe. But I suspect that many of those taking part in social gaming are also in our churches.
What about the “new face of consumerism,” as I labeled it? I’m hesitant to criticize this without criticizing other consumerism. In fact, this may be preferred, from a strictly utilitarian point of view. After all, spending $10 for an outfit for your avatar may be better than spending $200 for an outfit for yourself.
But is it better than buying a gift for your friend or spouse? After all, can an avatar love you back?
O’Donnell mentions a woman who got hooked on Cellufun two years ago when she was bored. We’re called to feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Are we called to minister to the bored? Maybe so. At least, perhaps, we should try to understand them.
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