You know, I’ve got a buddy who’s been playing WoW since its very first days. He’s at the point where it’s not even about the game anymore; it’s about the community that he’s a part of. He only puts serious playtime in when expansions come out, and otherwise it’s just a social space that occasionally involves doing various bits of end-game content.
Star Citizen’s kickstarter was nine years ago. Whatever else you want to say about the game, that’s more than enough time to build a sense of community. And it does appear that CIG is very, very good at making its backers feel like they’re part of something special.
Feeling special is an important part of this type of confidence scheme. The mark keeps paying not only because of the sunk cost fallacy, but because they don’t want to go back to being normal.
So you’ve got the Spanish Prisoner layer. But the classic Spanish Prisoner is a fictional stranger. This is like one of those schemes where a family member conspires with the kidnappers to split the ransom. “Freeing the prisoner” isn’t just about the payoff - they genuinely want the game to be successful because they genuinely care about both it and its community.
So what are the options for a whale who’s just beginning to see the light?
Option 1) You can just stop buying stuff and remain an active part of the community, but you’ve got to watch your fellow members becoming more and more special as your own fictional ships become one, two, three, four years out of date. You’re falling out of the loop! You are becoming less special each time a new ship or package is released and you don’t buy it.
Option 2) You can stop buying stuff and also withdraw from the community. If the game ever finishes, great! But that’s the sunk-cost sweet spot. You’ve already spent the money, and if you’re not supporting the game in some way (even if just by word of mouth and generating buzz), it might never finish and you lose everything. Further, not only are you cutting off contact with your friends in the SC community, you’re actively betraying them by no longer supporting the Great Work.
Option 3) You can try to get a refund. Depending on where you live, this has varying levels possibility and will almost certainly involve some level of legal action. In the best-case scenario, you get your money back and your account is permanently deactivated. You are a pariah, a traitor, an exile.
All bitter pills to swallow for a whale. A lot easier to say, “well, I’ve been budgeting fifty bucks a month for the last six years. No reason to stop now, and it’s still cheaper than a nice cup of coffee every day.”