Thursday, September 13, 2007
IT'S payday for Janine Hawkins. Not in the real world, where she is a student at Nipissing University in Ontario, but in the online world of Second Life, where she is managing editor of the fashion magazine Second Style.
Hawkins, who in Second Life takes on the persona of Iris Ophelia, a beauty with flowing hair and flawless skin, keeps a list of things she wants to buy: the latest outfits from the virtual fashion hub Last Call, a new hairstyle from a Japanese designer, slouchy boots. When she receives her monthly salary in Linden dollars, the currency of Second Life, she spends up to four hours shopping, clicking and buying. After a year and a half, she owns 31,540 items.
Living it up in Second Life is a break from Hawkins's part-time job as a French translator, but she works just as hard in the virtual world.
Last month, she earned 40,000 Linden dollars, the equivalent of US$150 ($228), for interviewing designers, arranging fashion shoots and writing about trends in Second Life, called SL by frequent users. "I usually spend what I earn," Hawkins said. "It's entertaining."
It also says a lot about the real world, especially when it comes to earning and spending money. When people are given the opportunity to create a fantasy world, they can and do defy the laws of gravity (you can fly in Second Life), but not of economics or human nature. Players in this digital, global game don't have to work, but many do. They don't need to change clothes, fix their hair, or buy and furnish a home, but many do.
Second Life residents find ways to make money so they can spend it to do things, look impressive, and get more stuff, even if it's made only of pixels. In a place where people should never have to clean out their closets, some end up devoting hours to organising their things, purging, even holding yard sales. "Why can't we break away from a consumerist, appearance-oriented culture?" said Nick Yee, who has studied the sociology of virtual worlds and recently received a doctorate in communication from Stanford. "What does Second Life say about us, that we trade our consumerist-oriented culture for one that's even worse?"
Second Life, a three-dimensional world built by hundreds of thousands of users over the Internet, is also being used for education, meetings, marketing and more obvious game playing. It's a wide world with a lot going on, in multiple languages, and it can be real-life enhancing for populations who are isolated for physical, mental, or geographic reasons. But as a petri dish for examining what makes many of us tick, Second Life reveals just how deep-seated the drive is to fit in, look good and get ahead in a material world.
Many residents have lived the American dream in Second Life, and built Linden-dollar fortunes through entrepreneurship. In what could have been an ideal world, however, or one where anyone could be a Harry Potter, Second Life has an up-and-down economy, mortgage payments, risky investments, land barons, evictions, designer rip-offs, scams and squatters. Not to mention peer pressure.
"Second Life is about getting the better clothes and the bigger build and the reputation as a better builder," said Julian Dibbell, author of Play Money, which chronicles his year of trying to make a living by trading virtual goods in online games. "The basic activity is still the keeping up with the Joneses, or getting ahead of the Joneses, rat race game."
To have a Second Life, one needs a computer, the Second Life software, and a high-speed Internet connection. You use a credit card to buy Lindens, and Lindens earned during the game can be converted back into dollars via online currency exchanges. Players start by choosing one of the standard characters, called an avatar, and can roam the world by flying or "teleporting" (click and go). Nobody can go hungry, there is no actual need for warmer clothes or shelter, and there is much to do without buying Lindens.
But walking around in a standard avatar, when there are so many ways to buy a better appearance, is like showing up for the first day of school dressed differently than all the other kids. You stick out as different, as an SL "newbie".
"It's hard not to fall into that," Yee said. "There are shops everywhere, so it's easy to say, 'Oh, OK, I guess I'll get a better pair of jeans'."
Second Life was started in 2003 by a Silicon Valley techie inspired by a sci-fi novel, Snow Crash. It is owned by a private company called Linden Lab. The original idea of the game was to unleash creativity. Residents don't have to wear the latest fashions; they don't have to look — or act — human at all. They can take any animal, robotic or inanimate form they want. And while there is a minority population of animal characters, and wearing butterfly wings is currently in vogue for humans, for the most part the population is young women bursting from their blouses and young men bulging with muscle.
But the more mundane items are what really drive the economy: clothes, gadgetry, night life, real estate. "People buy these huge McMansions in Second Life that are just as ugly as any McMansions in real life, because to them that is what's status-y," Wallace said. "It's not as easy as we think to let our imaginations run wild, in Second Life or in real life."
Mitch Ratcliffe, an entrepreneur and blogger, was an early resident of Second Life and built a house with a lake. But he was soon disillusioned with the upkeep involved with owning the property. "I don't see why I would want my second life to be about the same striving and profit that my first is," Ratcliffe wrote in a blog entry about his Second Life adventures. He eventually reincarnated himself as Homeless Hermes.
"People come by, see the user name and tell me how sorry they are that I don't have a home. Why?" he wrote. "It's very middle class, very staid in the way stigma is attached to a failure to get to work."
New York Times
Hawkins, who in Second Life takes on the persona of Iris Ophelia, a beauty with flowing hair and flawless skin, keeps a list of things she wants to buy: the latest outfits from the virtual fashion hub Last Call, a new hairstyle from a Japanese designer, slouchy boots. When she receives her monthly salary in Linden dollars, the currency of Second Life, she spends up to four hours shopping, clicking and buying. After a year and a half, she owns 31,540 items.
Living it up in Second Life is a break from Hawkins's part-time job as a French translator, but she works just as hard in the virtual world.
Last month, she earned 40,000 Linden dollars, the equivalent of US$150 ($228), for interviewing designers, arranging fashion shoots and writing about trends in Second Life, called SL by frequent users. "I usually spend what I earn," Hawkins said. "It's entertaining."
It also says a lot about the real world, especially when it comes to earning and spending money. When people are given the opportunity to create a fantasy world, they can and do defy the laws of gravity (you can fly in Second Life), but not of economics or human nature. Players in this digital, global game don't have to work, but many do. They don't need to change clothes, fix their hair, or buy and furnish a home, but many do.
Second Life residents find ways to make money so they can spend it to do things, look impressive, and get more stuff, even if it's made only of pixels. In a place where people should never have to clean out their closets, some end up devoting hours to organising their things, purging, even holding yard sales. "Why can't we break away from a consumerist, appearance-oriented culture?" said Nick Yee, who has studied the sociology of virtual worlds and recently received a doctorate in communication from Stanford. "What does Second Life say about us, that we trade our consumerist-oriented culture for one that's even worse?"
Second Life, a three-dimensional world built by hundreds of thousands of users over the Internet, is also being used for education, meetings, marketing and more obvious game playing. It's a wide world with a lot going on, in multiple languages, and it can be real-life enhancing for populations who are isolated for physical, mental, or geographic reasons. But as a petri dish for examining what makes many of us tick, Second Life reveals just how deep-seated the drive is to fit in, look good and get ahead in a material world.
Many residents have lived the American dream in Second Life, and built Linden-dollar fortunes through entrepreneurship. In what could have been an ideal world, however, or one where anyone could be a Harry Potter, Second Life has an up-and-down economy, mortgage payments, risky investments, land barons, evictions, designer rip-offs, scams and squatters. Not to mention peer pressure.
"Second Life is about getting the better clothes and the bigger build and the reputation as a better builder," said Julian Dibbell, author of Play Money, which chronicles his year of trying to make a living by trading virtual goods in online games. "The basic activity is still the keeping up with the Joneses, or getting ahead of the Joneses, rat race game."
To have a Second Life, one needs a computer, the Second Life software, and a high-speed Internet connection. You use a credit card to buy Lindens, and Lindens earned during the game can be converted back into dollars via online currency exchanges. Players start by choosing one of the standard characters, called an avatar, and can roam the world by flying or "teleporting" (click and go). Nobody can go hungry, there is no actual need for warmer clothes or shelter, and there is much to do without buying Lindens.
But walking around in a standard avatar, when there are so many ways to buy a better appearance, is like showing up for the first day of school dressed differently than all the other kids. You stick out as different, as an SL "newbie".
"It's hard not to fall into that," Yee said. "There are shops everywhere, so it's easy to say, 'Oh, OK, I guess I'll get a better pair of jeans'."
Second Life was started in 2003 by a Silicon Valley techie inspired by a sci-fi novel, Snow Crash. It is owned by a private company called Linden Lab. The original idea of the game was to unleash creativity. Residents don't have to wear the latest fashions; they don't have to look — or act — human at all. They can take any animal, robotic or inanimate form they want. And while there is a minority population of animal characters, and wearing butterfly wings is currently in vogue for humans, for the most part the population is young women bursting from their blouses and young men bulging with muscle.
But the more mundane items are what really drive the economy: clothes, gadgetry, night life, real estate. "People buy these huge McMansions in Second Life that are just as ugly as any McMansions in real life, because to them that is what's status-y," Wallace said. "It's not as easy as we think to let our imaginations run wild, in Second Life or in real life."
Mitch Ratcliffe, an entrepreneur and blogger, was an early resident of Second Life and built a house with a lake. But he was soon disillusioned with the upkeep involved with owning the property. "I don't see why I would want my second life to be about the same striving and profit that my first is," Ratcliffe wrote in a blog entry about his Second Life adventures. He eventually reincarnated himself as Homeless Hermes.
"People come by, see the user name and tell me how sorry they are that I don't have a home. Why?" he wrote. "It's very middle class, very staid in the way stigma is attached to a failure to get to work."
New York Times