When is a $60 Game a $0.99 Game?

There has been a lot of discussion about the erosion of game prices. Most of the blame has been levelled at smartphone marketplaces and free-to-play games, which both offer play experiences at a disruptively low price point.

Unsurprisingly, the most outspoken of all companies has been Nintendo, who've had the hand-held market sewn up for the past 22 years. It seems like every single executive got the memo to go on the defensive about their games' value. There is an element of irony to this, as part of Nintendo's success with its portable consoles has been their cheap and cheerful pricing. It's telling that they had to slash the price of their latest console, the 3DS, when they broke this low-cost model.

However, it's not just those businesses who are directly in the firing line who are worried. Epic Games' president, Mike Capps, publicly registered his concern that this value proposition shock-wave will change the whole industry.

I agree that change is inevitable, but I think lower pricing is only a secondary effect of the true cause of this disruption. Digital distribution is the actual driver of the entropy we're seeing, as it eliminates any type of physical delivery. Without the risk of having to eat the up-front costs of manufacturing and distribution, more developers are able to compete in the marketplace, and this competition is what's driving prices down. These new operations are much leaner than the old-guard, and are doing it cheaper, faster and better. Your ability to write a large cheque doesn't guarantee your place at the table any more; having something valid to say determines whether you can sit and be heard.

This got me thinking about the comparative costs of the content delivery methods used on each of the competing platforms: download for smartphones, and physical media for consoles. Is there that much difference between the 'real', like-for-like price of a game sold using bricks and mortar distribution, and one sold in a digital marketplace? The headline figures are: $60 for a console game, and between $1-$5 for a smartphone game.

From a developer's perspective, delivery cost in a digital marketplace is simple to quantify: 30% of the sale price goes to the vendor. That's it. Done.

The retail shop route is considerably more complex. A contemporary article by Forbes puts the friction costs of manufacturing at 5%, distribution at 1.5%, console owner's fees at 11.5%, and retailer margin at 20%. That totals 38%, which isn't a million miles away from the 30% a digital marketplace rakes (which suggests Apple, Valve and other providers take too much, but that's a discussion for another day).

If the costs of the routes to market are similar, then what other factors are there that can explain how the price of a smartphone game can be a fraction of the price of a retail game (2-10%), and still be sustainable?

Let's consider the population of people who play a retail game: how many of them actually pay the full retail price for it?

It's telling that I had to look up a typical retail price for a game before writing this post; I can't remember the last time I paid full whack for a title. In the US, Brink for the Xbox 360 was priced at $60 for release in May. Using camelcamelcamel.com, I can see that even before the first week of sales, the price had dropped to $45. The price then fell again after 6 weeks to $30, and after 10 weeks, it's now around the $25 range. Of all those who have bought Brink new, how much did they pay for it on average? It's difficult to say without the sales data, but another online charting tool, VGChartz, indicates that 88.3% of lifetime sales were made between weeks 1 to 6, 6.4% between weeks 6 to 10, and 5.3% thereafter. This implies a rough average sale price of $43.

Of course, this is one game among thousands, but it's a fair example of a title with an average critical reception, decent sales, and whose multiplayer population appears to have waned after the first couple of weeks, precluding significant Long Tail sales.

We're still nowhere near our smartphone game price yet, but the average price of a retail game drops dramatically if we consider the population who play the game borrowed, second-hand or rented. This is an inherent factor for games delivered on physical media, and in these cases the developer will see no revenue. There are large numbers thrown around quantifying those that rent games (50%), and those that buy used games over new games (53%). Even discounting players who borrow games from their friends, the impact of rentals and used sales implies that only one quarter of those playing a retail game will have paid the developer. Comparably, everyone who plays a digitally distributed game will have purchased it in the primary market, paying the developer directly. Adjusting for paying player populations, a physically distributed game's like-for-like price now falls 75% to $11.

There is another significant difference between the population of smartphone and console games players: the size. Not including iPad 2 sales, Apple has sold 189 million iOS devices... This is the same number as the Wii (88M), Xbox 360 (55M) and Playstation 3 (50M) combined. Due to hardware differences, it's common for a developer to sell their game on either the Wii, or both the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3. Each approach addresses roughly 50% of the retail console market. If you're only reaching a market 50% the size of a larger market, then your sales potential is only 50% of that larger market's. Let's scale our like-for-like price again, down to $5.50.

Suddenly, a $4.99 price for a smartphone game isn't sounding unreasonable at all.

You may say that you can increase sales of a traditional, $60 game by releasing it on the PC too. However, that would only give you a market population boost of around 30 million. Easily offsetting this, Google's Android devices contribute another 130 million to the smartphone user base. For simplicity's sake, let's assume that we're investigating the feasibility of taking a non-PC retail game, and only releasing it on Apple's iOS devices.

There's another factor that can affect your sales potential: the quality of consumers in each market. How many games does a player purchase a year? Tie ratio research suggest that iOS owners buy a similar number of games as console owners. This isn't surprising given the recent analysis that indicates a typical iOS device owner has downloaded 75 applications. It's highly plausible that a small portion of these are paid games, so assuming parity between the quality of smartphone and console consumers seems a fair.

We've come a long way from the vehemently defended $60 price point. Like-for-like, we're all the way down to $5, but how do we get from there to $0.99? It's simple actually: no-one is spending $10 million to make a smartphone game.

We've got like-for-like prices, but not like-for-like products. A particularly large budget on a smartphone game is tens of thousands of dollars, whereas a $10M budget is considered relatively small for a console game. Being generous, let's assume that a smartphone game costs $100K to make. That's still 100x less money needed to be recouped in sales than an average console game. Perhaps it's a good thing that Apple stipulates a 99c minimum price on the App Store. Accounting for product budgets, our true like-for-like price is a ludicrous 5c!

The fact is, most traditional, heavy-weight game developers aren't making big-budget titles for smartphones, but it's entirely feasible for them to do so. Want to keep you're multi-million dollar budget? Charge $5 for your game; EA is already doing this. Better still, create freemium games whose revenue is driven by in-app purchases; research indicates that you'd be able to triple your budget (IAP total spend per game averages $14).

It's little wonder that these publicly owned companies are coming under fire from their investors for not getting involved. With all the new development talent joining the fray, can they afford to simply cross their arms and pout?

Huscarlas: Old Plurals are not Created Equal

What you see above is the Old English word huscarlas ("hooz-karl-as"), written in Anglo-Saxon Futhorc. This runic alphabet has its origins in the Scandinavian runes, and was used before the the Christianisation of England.

The word's above form embodies the evolution of my own understanding of Anglo-Saxon culture, language, and religion throughout the development of my game, Huscarlas.

I'd formulated the game's core mechanics before deciding to enrich it with Dark Age English themes. My self-imposed brief was to distil the tactical turn-based genre, and wrap it in a lean, modern interface. During this pre-production phase I'd spent time in London's museums and galleries, hunting for a spark to ignite my concept. It came from the British Museum, whose Sutton Hoo collection lit the kindling of my intrigue with my own past.

Surprisingly, despite being raised here, my education in the history of Britain was somewhat patchy. Beyond a primary school project on the 1066 Battle of Hastings, I'd inadvertently dodged a formal introduction to my country's forebears. Luckily, after this brief spell of learning, I retained that Harold's army included his bodyguards, his huscarlas. They were a highly-trained, standing body of household warriors, who were tasked with the protection of the Anglo-Saxon king. A huscarl was a free man who gave his oath to protect his charge, and could own land and chattels, strengthening his position in society.

I knew that these would be the perfect men to walk the stellar planes in my game, wielding their axes in battle. I set about delving deeper into the life and times of this warrior cast.

The term Dark Ages was well chosen for this period of history, as there are few primary sources that have survived to guide us in its study. Written records appear to begin around the Christianisation of England, when the Latin alphabet supplanted Futhorc. As a result, the sources are late, and mainly ecclesiastical. Physical evidence is also scarce, as the post-Roman British used timber and other perishables in their buildings, rather than the Roman's heavy stone. It would take a lucky encounter with a historical novel to really drive my understanding forward.

By chance, I began reading Bernard Cornwell's Saxon Stories on holiday, and, as its main character is fond of saying, Wyrd bi∂ ful aræd (Fate is inexorable). The series dramatises Alfred the Great's attempt to unify England into a single country during the 9th century. The books rely on meticulous research by the author to imbue them with historical authenticity, and they seared the Anglo-Saxon people's identity into my consciousness. Although factual accounts of the age exist, I absorbed Cornwell's story, which is spiced with these truths, far more readily than the original sources.

The most striking realisation I took away from the Saxon Stories was the stark distinction between England's settled Anglo-Saxon population and the Scandinavian interlopers who came during the Viking age. Before, I had a muddy notion of generic tribes moving across Western Europe to displace the native Britons, followed by their subsequent conquest by the Normans. This has been replaced by the understanding that, although early Germanic and Scandinavian religions and alphabets are similar, their societies were very different during Britain's Saxon age.

Knowing this, I revisited what I thought I knew about the people I'd based Huscarlas' characters upon. I looked for specific facts about the Anglo-Saxons, delineating between them and their Scandinavian cousins. I had to make a rare foray beyond the bounds of Wikipedia to mine as deep as needed for this information.

It was a relief to find my conception of early Anglo-Saxon theology was not invalidated; as with the Scandinavians, they worshipped the gods of continental polytheism. Where Odin and Thor governed Valhalla for the Norse, Woden and Thunor did the same for the Saxons. Though, there is an interesting morphing of some mythology dependent on the territory in which it was told. For instance, The Wild Hunt, who trace their mad, ephemeral pursuit across the skies, includes King Arthur in some British accounts. The Germanic Pantheon has thousands of years of story built on its rich foundations, and I'm pleased to be able to plumb its depths for inspiration.

A somewhat more revelatory discovery was that my initial working title, "Huscarls", was spelled incorrectly. Although this is the most commonly used plural of huscarl in Google's search results, it is neither Old English, nor Old Norse. There are five cases within Old English, all of which can change the ending of a noun and its plural. The technicalities of the grammar took some time to research, but the correct pluralisation of huscarl is huscarlas, as with all strong, masculine nouns in the nominative case. I would like to thank Professor Muir and Professor Drout for corroborating this.

So, the title was changed to "Huscarlas".

The final evolutionary step discernible from the Huscarlas title above, is my re-discovery of Futhorc. In all the novels and primary sources that I'd read, the text was written using the Latin alphabet. However, I had a recollection from my childhood studies of writing runes with a feather quill. Following a trail of examples, through a series of research websites, I unearthed the use of runes by the Anglo-Saxons before Christianity took hold. To me, it seemed to be the script of the old gods, and its use fitting if Huscarlas was to play out in their domain.

I've been left with a deeper understanding of my subject, and a closeness to it that I'd been entitled to, but had not possessed before taking the time to understand our ancestors.

Huscarlas will be laced with my discoveries, and I hope that you'll join me amongst these legends of yore.

Spring Cleaning: Lessons Learned in Indie Development

Although I've been keeping everyone up to date, through Twitter and Facebook, as to which iOS games have been eating into my productivity, I haven't blogged for a few months. This was by design, as part of my master plan to duck my head below the parapet, plant my face firmly on the grindstone, and get a significant chunk of Huscarlas coded.

It has been a mixture of successes, intermingled with what I would term as "lessons learned". The most useful revelations to come out of my Winter coding exile have been about two things: project scoping, and time planning. Before your eyes wander away to click on something shiny, and not at all like a wanky management term, let me explain why these epiphanies could be interesting to you.

Before sauntering up to the indie-developer table, and presenting my jib for inspection, I'd spent many years consuming developer-written articles on websites such as Gamasutra, Edge and develop. A good number of these focussed on the very two concepts that I present today: scope and time management. Even those articles ostensibly about something else would somehow manage to slip a paragraph or two in about these subjects, just for good measure. How, then, after so much on these topics having already been written, could I possibly have anything new to say? Surely you can just read the same articles and be done with it?

The point is that I'd read these articles, found them fairly dull, and went away thinking that I'd understood what the authors wanted me to learn. I hadn't, and I don't think you can unless you've walked on your own precipitous path of an unscoped, unplanned project.

In reading them, I'd always thought that the principles discussed were only applicable to game projects with large teams with intimidating weekly overheads. The examples given were almost always framed by such projects, which is unsurprising given the dominance of big-budget studios over the last twenty years. As a one-man micro studio, I found it difficult to bring their lessons to bear on my own day-to-day operations.

Here then, I distil my own practical advice from these well-worn topics, filtered through the unusual perspective of a lone wolf.

Scoping

• Lesson: Do not invest any time into achieving something unless you know exactly what the finish line looks like.
  

  
  Learned: I knew that I needed an artificial intelligence for Huscarlas that could move optimally through procedurally generated levels. After reading some enticing articles that vehemently insisted that "navigation meshes" were the future of space representation, I thought I'd try to implement this type of structure. This technique had no published practical examples, and so I started from just the basic theory, with no notion of what the final logic should be. Inevitably, I wasted a couple of months theorising and working on it, before finding out that the examples the articles had cited were couched with provisos, making the technique impractical for my game.
  
  I will never work from hearsay again. Before diving into implementation of an unfamiliar concept, I now need to have read and understood a source that gives a complete explanation.



• Lesson: If there is an existing, complete solution to what you're trying to achieve, then use it. Don't try and reinvent the wheel, no matter how interesting a diversion it might be.
  

  
  Learned: After the punishing distraction of trying to implement navigation meshes, I realised that plenty of games must have, and must still, use a different approach. Nav meshes are a new concept, so something must have pre-dated them. After a small amount of digging, I found well documented, top-to-bottom solutions for using a regular grid of waypoints over a level. This technique is theoretically not as flexible, nor as efficient as using a nav mesh, but it's tried, tested and completely suited for my purposes. I managed to build a working implementation in a couple of weeks.
  
  As a small operation you've got to pick your battles. If you offered me the time I'd wasted indulging in unnecessary R&D in return for having never heard of a navigation mesh, I'd take your arm off at the elbow.

Time Management

• Lesson: Wake up each day knowing what needs to be done, and precisely where you're going to start.
  

  
  Learned: Procrastination will unnecessarily elongate your project, increasing your costs and eating away at your fragile ego. As both project manager and implementer, you should know exactly what you should be doing at all times though, right? Nice in theory, but I've found that without an up-to-date, relevant, and manageable "TO DO" list, the sheer scope of what I'm trying to achieve can fix me in its headlights.
  
  As well as a whiteboard list of tasks to reference, every morning I conduct a project-wide code search to turn up "TO DO" comments that I've left for myself. This search will always contain a unique line that begins, "TO DO: Start Here...".
  
  If I'm ever in doubt, I just do what the man says.



• Lesson: If you are unmotivated or stuck on a part of your project, understand what can be done in parallel and waste no time in shifting your sights to a more appealing target.
  

  
  Learned: There should be no quiet days at the office when you ARE the office. Inexplicably, sometimes it's impossible to get revved up about parsing XML files, or optimising rendering algorithms. Unfortunately these sorts of mundane tasks will befall anyone attempting to create a game by themselves. Instead of pouting, or trying to wade through your disinterest like treacle, it's best not to take such a bloody-minded approach, and just do something different. I openly prefer design to programming, and when I feel a malaise coming on from the lack of reusable code that's available to me, I've learned to switch tasks.
  
  It's both daunting and empowering to have to perform all the roles required to create a game. On the downside you'll have to do the boring stuff at some point. On the upside, you don't have to do it right now.

Looking over these lessons, I realise they can be applied by anyone who multi-tasks, and I'm sure they've been incubated throughout my career.

I battle daily to take my own advice, but if I've lost momentum, or lack motivation, then these simple rules have proven to rejuvenate me.

Changing of the Seasons

The last couple of months have been stuffed to bursting for me: my parents' ruby anniversary, two stag weekends and two weddings (including one best man's speech), Stargazy Studio's first tax return, the Eurogamer Expo, a couple of #LondonIndies meets, and the organisation of the inaugural BoardGameCamp.

It's a commonly observed phenomenon that tasks tend to take as long as the maximum time allotted to them. Not wishing to actively disprove this, I've allowed any coding time that I may have found in-between my commitments to be consumed by whatever flanked it. Although I've had a jolly nice time over the last nine weeks, Huscarlas is rightfully feeling neglected.

With the coming of the Siberian geese to Britain's shores signalling the onset of Winter, I'm beginning my own social Winter. Whereas I may have felt a little guilty hiding behind thick curtains from a glorious Summer's day, the dank, dreary Winter skies hold no such sway. I'm going to harness my seasonal hermit tendencies and take the opportunity to bury myself in coding Huscarlas.

To those that know me, it's been a pleasure, and I'll see you for the first antihistamine run in the Spring!

I will make one concession during this voluntary exile: the adventurous may enter my cave if they come bearing a copy Power Grid, Dominion or Carcassonne. Playing board games with friends is a perennial cornerstone for me, and the offer of a game is guaranteed to break my isolation. Where Summer dalliances fall to the wayside, I wouldn't give up board game evenings for all the spice on Arrakis.

BoardGameCamp was an unbridled success, and well attended by board gamers old and new. I never doubted it would be a triumph, as I've seen time and again how groups of people can be brought together by a shared play experience. It's always a thrill to introduce a new player to this world of round table gaming, and if you don't have board gaming integrated into your weekly social calendar, now is a great time to start. As the days grow shorter and the evenings stretch on forever, here are some of my favourite games to ward off the Winter months:

• Dominion
  
  Build a deck of cards from a shared pool and beat your opponents by producing the most victory points using the cards you draw into your hand. Each card may be used in conjunction with others in your deck, whose contents is continually changing throughout the game. There are 3,268,760 distinct shared card pools that can be created in the game, meaning it's impossible to play every permutation in a human lifetime. Dominion-night is the new Bridge-night.
  
  In one line: "I'll play a village, a festival, a militia, another village, a woodcutter, and a copper, which gives me... 7 treasure, God damn it!".
  


• Puerto Rico
  
  Plant crops on your land and use your income to expand your city or accrue victory points. Predicting and influencing the communal production line is the key to winning. Production from crop to goods to shipping is rarely unfettered by your opponents.
  
  In one line: "Don't you dare start a shipping phase until I've built a warehouse you git.".
  


• Power Grid
  
  Build a network of cities over a shared map, attempting to maximise your reach whilst blocking your opponents. Each city must be powered on your grid, so you bid in open auctions against other players for power stations. You must take it in turns to source raw fuel from a communal market, changing the price of each type of fuel in the process. Actions taken early on in the game can have a knock-on effect that doesn't become clear until the end of the game.
  
  In one line: "I knew I shouldn't have bought that uranium in turn 2.".
  


• Carcassonne
  
  Players take it in turns to place adjacent square tiles, creating networks of city walls, fields and roads. The exclusive rights to each structure are secured by placing a member of your pool of people on any adjoining tile you lay. Once a structure is completed the owner scores points and their claimant is returned to their pool.
  
  In one line: "And with this tile I condemn thine Meeple to eternal limbo.".
  


• Last Night on Earth
  
  Four heroes must navigate a square-tiled board to fight a zombie hoard. The two teams take it in turns to draw bonus cards, move their pieces and roll dice to determine the outcome of combat. Board randomisation and multiple scenarios lend tactical depth to this battle of the slow versus the few.
  
  In one line: "If I roll a 6 to move Jake to here, give the gasoline to Becky, she runs into the mansion with it, and Billy shoots her with his flare gun, I can win this thing.".
  


• Ticket to Ride
  
  This seemingly thoughtful family game is actually the most effective way to channel the ferocity of a 19th century rail-tycoon. Each player draws a set of random destination nodes that must be linked together on a communal map of interconnecting rail links. The rub is that once a link is claimed, no-one else can cross it. The resulting collision of interests can turn a family Christmas into a knock-down, drag-out brawl.
  
  In one line: "Vegas. You had to take Vegas.".
  

BoardGameCamp Announced!

As part of a group of avid board game fans, I've been involved over the past few months in bringing a new type of event to life under the GameCamp brand. BoardGameCamp is going to be part of the London Games Festival in October 2010, and you're all invited to join the pow-wow.

The concept is to have a large, free form space in which people can play, discuss and build board games. Each attendee is free to decide what they'd like to get involved with, and can switch between activities throughout the day.

Play will be centred around a board game library, stocked by the event stakeholders and topped up by campers who'd like to bring their games to play with others. Modelled on the PAX library, you'll be able to check out games in exchange for a valid form of ID, and there'll be a great mix of table-top classics and exotic games printed in small runs.

Connect describes the unconference style talks that spring up around the camp site. A play session may plant the seed for an idea that you'd like to mull over with friends, or childhood memories may be unlocked when you rediscover a game you haven't seen since you were young. Talk subjects are thrown up onto an open schedule so that the whole camp can attend.

Build is for those who'd like to create an experience for others to enjoy. Using the classic tools of the trade (dice, cards, Post-it notes and poker chips), teams will aim to design, build and playtest a game in one day. Meet other designers in an ideas market in the morning and bring your game to life.

BoardGameCamp is going to take place at Whittaker House, Richmond on Saturday, 9th October 2010. This is eBay, Gumtree and Paypal's main UK campus, so there'll be plenty of room for gaming. The entrance fee of £10 will cover lunch, so no need to pack your own.

We're all very excited about celebrating one of our favourite hobbies with other gamers, new and old. Tickets will be released soon, so keep an eye on the GameCamp website and Twitter feed for details.

Console-shaped Bottles: The difference between Coca-Cola and Nintendo

When we think Coca-Cola, we think about a single pervasive product quaffed all over the world. However, the drink has traditionally been brought to market by two independent businesses: the Coca-Cola syrup maker, and the Coca-Cola bottler. The history and the rationale for this structure is fascinating, and makes for an interesting comparison with the videogames industry.

A mere 3 years after the magic Coca-Cola recipe was invented in 1886, the decision was made to sell the exclusive bottling rights to independent entrepreneurs. This allowed The Coca-Cola Company to concentrate on making their famous brew, and to sell it to their bottling rights-holders for distribution. The margins on the bottling business are considerably lower than those in the syrup business, and operating the factories and distribution networks to get Coca-Cola to retail is a capital intensive pursuit. It made sense for The Coca-Cola Company to put their resources to better use by sticking to their margin-rich business, marketing their product and expanding into new territories.

The model was tested again in 1986 when owners of two of the key Coca-Cola bottling companies in North America made it clear that they were going to sell their operations. The Coca-Cola Company could not risk their route to market falling into hostile hands, and had to raise an enormous amount of money through financing to buy the asset-heavy bottlers. Rather than merging with the low-margin businesses, they stuck to their plan and spun them off with the IPO of the bottling company Coca-Cola Enterprises Inc.

How does Coca-Cola's approach to distribution compare with the approach taken by videogame companies like Nintendo, Sony and Microsoft? We can draw parallels between the products: games consoles being the "bottles" from which the game "mix" is drunk. However, I think there are some fundamental differences that have prevented the decoupling of manufacturing and distribution in the videogame industry.

To drink a Coke you need to simply buy one in a shop and then put it to your lips. However to play a videogame, you must buy two products: the game itself, and a games console on which to play it. This would be analogous to buying the Coke bottle separately from the Cola. It's clear that there are two distinct distribution channels in the games industry: games distribution and console distribution.

The Coca-Cola Company wanted nothing to do with the distribution of either bottles or the liquid inside of them. Videogame platform holders like Nintendo have far more involvement in getting their consoles to retail; the equivalent of the bottle business. Like all major platform holders, Nintendo designs, manufactures, and sells their consoles. Coca-Cola spun off its retail distribution due to the low-margins, and I think this is where the differing approaches can be explained.

Making a bottle is a mature process, with little opportunity to imbue a simple product with added value. Bottles are sold business-to-business, where their perceived value is very efficiently correlated to their raw production value. Games consoles are considerably more complex than bottles, and are sold directly to consumers as a product in their own right. This represents a far better opportunity to yield higher margins than the bottle industry. The average consumer is unable to calculate the production value of a complex combination of electronics, and the manufacturer can reinvent the console each generation as a new product, with its own unique selling points. Nintendo's Wii is a great example of this, its components costing a fraction of its retail price. The innovation of using a motion interface provided a unique experience, which inflated its perceived value on the high street. Nintendo is involved in making consoles because the margins are good.

However, when comparing games to syrup in the Coca-Cola model, we can see that the apporach to distribution is far more similar than with consoles and bottles. Independent agents take games to market themselves, much like the distribution of Coke. Although, there is a difference in the way that we consume Coke and games that subtly changes the business model.

The combination of ingredients in Coke is static. We drink Coke because we like the taste, and we don't want that to change. Conversely, the "syrup" in the videogames industry is dynamic, as people don't want to play the same game over and over again. Each new game must have its own individual recipe, so there's no secret formula for Nintendo to sell to developers to be reconstituted. Instead, they make developers pay to release games for their consoles by ensuring that only licenced code will run on them. The bottle has a lock on it, and you can pay to get the key. This offers the console manufacturer a second revenue stream that is as operationally cheap, even more so than the sale of syrup.

The experience offered by a game is a combination of its software and the hardware on which it's running. Whether you drink Coke out of a can or bottle makes little difference, but the value of a game is inextricably linked with the interface experience provided by a console. The Nintendo Wii has shown that this console generation, people are far more interested in gesticulating than viewing high resolution graphics. Incorporating their interface into your design can move software.

The sales of games and consoles are synergistic, as to play a game you need the platform to run it on. Nintendo makes money when you buy both, so securing a desirable game library for their platform is key. Ensuring the features of a console are suitably unique to drive the creation of exclusive experiences has been the traditional approach. As with all the major manufacturers, Nintendo also have world class in-house game developers to create their consoles' killer apps.

It appears as though Coca-Cola and Nintendo have little in common, and that spinning off the distribution of their hardware is a bad fit for the gaming giants. However, we are entering interesting and disruptive times for the videogames industry, which will complicate things further.

Technology is driving games off of discs and down broadband connections. Games delivered straight to a consumer's home are far more convenient for them, but don't think that this is why the big platform holders are clamoring to get into the digital distribution business. A 15% royalty rate is not uncommon for the disc-based business, but 30% is considered aggressive in the digital realm. Nintendo, Microsoft and Sony's cut just got doubled. There is the consideration of the cost of hosting and transmitting these digital assets, but it still represents a significant bump for platform holders.

The temptation of those margins is bringing other players to the table, armed with innovative new approaches to the hardware aspect of the business. OnLive and Gaikai are proposing to move the computational power running your games from under your television, to remote servers that will simply transmit a video stream to your web-browser or TV. It's yet to to be seen whether the technology has made this a viable, cost-effective model, or whether gamers are willing to forego the focussed design of a company's unique hardware vision. However, it's clear to see that these upstarts are presenting a significant threat to the traditional business model of Nintendo, Microsoft and Sony. We already see developers creating multi-platform releases for the Xbox 360 and Playstation 3, rather than addressing the differences in their features more directly with separate games. OnLive and Gaikai could quickly gain parity if the experience offered is indistinguishable, and if the cost to the consumer is less, then they could become preferred.

If the hardware business is generalised by cloud computing providers, and the experiences available are no longer exclusive to any platform, then where does that leave the big three? Microsoft has the most experience in the cloud services business, but Nintendo and Sony are nowhere. They are not positioned for a disruption of this magnitude. Like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, their walled-gardens may also become mere legends.

Podcasts on the Menu this Week

The volume of high quality, edifying editorial being recorded in podcast form has exploded in the past few years. I listen exclusively to gaming podcasts, and even when restricting myself to one genre the choice can be overwhelming. Thank goodness for the double speed playback: twice the information, half the awkward silences.

I try to concoct a mixture of content each week that covers news, reviews, features, and design focussed discussion. Over time I've established weekly staples that automatically get a listen, supplemented by more sporadically released podcasts that are a nice surprise when they drop.

My Staple Podcasts

Mobcast
Four rotating seats discuss four topics chosen each week, including a Bitmob.com community topic. The intelligent discourse examines videogaming trends that may not be covered by conventional news sources. This podcast takes me to a more contemplative place than my usual news-watching perch, and its variety is always a pleasant surprise. Senior members of the editorial staff from EGM and 1UP founded Bitmob after Ziff-Davis sold those properties to UGO.

Gamers With Jobs - Conference Call
Stalwarts of a community-written blog come together to discuss noteworthy news, what they've been playing, meaty feature topics, and listener emails. I particularly like the diversity of the ever-changing hosts and their insight into niche areas of gaming that larger publications often overlook.

The Joystiq Podcast
Joystiq.com is my favourite fire-hose of information. There are several uber blogs covering videogames in minute detail, but none has a podcast as consistently entertaining as Joystiq. Come for the chemistry between the hosts, stay for the comprehensive news coverage and bulletproof editorial.

Rebel FM
Irreverent. This podcast is stocked with the up-and-coming generation of young videogame journalists that talk about what they like, when they like, and only pay passing care as to whether they've offended their employers enough to lose their jobs by the end of recording. Also formed from ex-1UP journalists, this podcast takes a more organic approach to content than the structured Mobcast. Usual topics include games they've been playing, bombshell news items, and relationship advice for geeks, all delivered in a delightfully abusive tone.

Games, Dammit!
1UP.com still has enough quality broadcasters after the exodus to produce another top-notch podcast to fill the 1UP Yours shaped hole that was left. This is evidence that the blog was harbouring well above its quota of journo talent before their dispersion. The content is similar to the news-driven Joystiq podcast, but is delivered by a very different collection of personalities. These guys present opinions with a been-there, done-that attitude, meaning that iterative, uninspiring games are given short shrift. Quite right too!

Surprising Podcasts

A Life Well Wasted
This is Robert Ashley's vision for the maturation of videogame podcasting. The programme examines the human stories behind games, as Robert travels across the US to interview a wildly eclectic group of people. Every episode has a theme that each interview relates to, and is delivered with the level of production found in NPR's This American Life. It's an absolute treat.

The Brainy Gamer Podcast
Michael Abbott is a smart, prolific writer, who loves games and has an academic approach to his analysis. No wonder he's able to attract an incredible array of industry guests onto the Brainy Gamer podcast. His thoughtfully selected topics enable the show to break away from the usual regurgitation and prodding of the news. Listening to this well-schooled host always delivers a great return on your time.

Another Castle
Podcasts by videogame designers are a relatively new thing. Finding the time to externalise your own thoughts and processes when developing a game is difficult, and you're always conscience that your audience may not want to know how the sausage gets made. Another Castle takes the sausage, dissects it, and bombards it with discourse until its elements are known. Charles J Pratt has been a game designer since he graduated from NYU's famous ITP course. The host calls on luminaries associated with ITP to bring their scholarship to bear on the subject of game design, delivering gonzo one-on-one interviews.

Out of the Game
GFW Radio was the jewel in Ziff-Davis' podcast crown before the UGO acquisition. When GFW shed its staff they scattered like seeds, each sprouting new endeavours. Out of the Game is an audio record of the infrequent meeting of the bros. when they get back together to chew the fat. Tangential and enthralling, it's the closest you'll get to GFW Radio after they broke up the band.

Irrational Behaviour
One of the contributors to Out of the Game is Shawn Elliott. He was most famous on GFW Radio for his ability to tell surprising, and often morbid, stories that highlighted how strange life really can be. The breadth of the subject matter, and depth to which each story had been researched, alluded to Shawn not only being interested in games. When he did talk about games he did so in a similarly intelligent way, which put him in the category of critic rather than reporter. It was not shocking that he would go on to apply his critical ability and broader interests in the industry, at Irrational Games. Shawn now produces the Irrational Behaviour podcast to showcase Irrational's staff, and give an insight into how they make their games. Keep your eyes peeled for Irrational Interviews episodes too: Shawn Elliott and Irrational's main man, Ken Levine, endeavour to broadcast interviews with people in the wider gaming industry.

The RPS Electronic Wireless Show
PC gaming is great. The walled garden of console gaming is fantastic for a no-fuss, high premium experience, but if you're a gamer and you're not getting your hands dirty in the crash-happy world of personal computer gaming, then you're only scratching the surface of the marvels available to you. The audience for computer games is enormous as almost everyone with electricity has a PC; even my parents! Combine this with an open platform without licensing fees, and the PC is fertile ground for the weird and wonderful world of niche gaming. Let Rock Paper Shotgun be your guide. The Illuminati of the British gaming press nail proper journalism and criticism with aplomb, and occasionally connect their minds directly to their mouths and record it.