PixlBit

If you asked a 10-year-old version of myself “Would you like to play a totally re-imagined A Link To The Past?”, I probably would have shat myself with excitement on the spot. Of course, you would also get the same exact response from the 28-year-old sitting here writing this blog. This kind of enthusiasm to re-experience a favorite game in a new light transcends nostalgia; as an intriguing mix of a classic title with new sprites, overworlds, and story elements, mods allow you to re-discover and discover at the same time. It’s an exciting notion not only for gamers, but also for the owners of the original Intellectual Property itself; in an industry obsessed with the tech of tomorrow, the fact that a game can be decades old, yet still so lauded, loved, and relevant that a new generation of programmers and artists create their own take on it is inspirational indeed. The question is: who the hell would be crazy (and stupid) enough to try to astrocize and dismantle this growing and thriving culture of the gaming community? The answer is, sadly, the very people who should be embracing and nurturing them.

 Some of you may have heard of something called "The Middle Earth Roleplaying Project" or MERP for short. This incredibly ambitious venture was set to be a complete overhaul of The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion (before evolving its engine to remain current with Skyrim) into a behemoth full of quests, locations, and characters straight from the tomes of Tolkien. The Mod had quite a buzz about it online, until its creators were issued a Cease and Desist from Warner Bros. The creators even tried working with WB, offering rounds of revisions to remove such key elements as "The Ringbearer" questline, but the intellectual giants (mark my sarcasm) at Warner Bros still had them stop all progress on the Mod. Maybe WB was jealous that none of their licensed LOTR gaming ventures could have hoped to ever be as good as MERP? You decide.

 
       Oh What could have been....

The fact that an impassioned and dedicated team (or person) could spend YEARS lovingly crafting a mod, from creating character models (or sprites) and worlds to explore, to overall testing and debugging, could be swiftly silenced with a Cease and Desist is disheartening to say the very least. When considering the fact that NONE of these artists and programmers pretend to pass off the IP as their own (by their very nature mods are a celebration of the original work) and that they receive no actual financial reimbursement for the eventual release of the mod (if it makes it to that point), it seems absurd that any corporate entity would feel threatened enough to issue a Cease and Desist order. Sadly however, it happens, and it happens often. It begs the question: couldn’t there be a better way going forward that would be beneficial for everyone involved?

Bethesda Game Studios has shown what can happen when you embrace a passionate, creative, and dedicated modding community. By releasing The Creation Kit and utlitizing the Steam Workshop, Bethesda placed the creative reigns in the hands of the people who steadfastly (and financially) support The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. This creates a situation that is not only beneficial to the fans by giving them more value with a possibly infinite amount of new content for their investment, it also greatly benefits Bethesa. New ideas for patches and DLC come pouring in from Skyrim devotees, giving the game studio invaluable insight into what their fans want out of the game going forward; not only that, but they show Bethesda how it can work within the confines of a mathmateical structure that Bethesda built. The minds behind Skyrim and Fallout 3 certainly aren't stupid, and they see the immense benefits of embracing the modding community and culture. Who else could prosper from embracing a similar mindset? Well, I’m glad you asked!

       

Nintendo could potentially have the most to benefit from by embracing the game-modding community. A simple Google search will show you that the internet is brimming with mods of Super Mario World, The Legend of Zelda: A Link To The Past, Super Metroid, Castlevania, etc. The Wii U is still in its infancy, and the new console gives Nintendo a bevy of opportunities to introduce new ideas and philosophies going forward; what if Nintendo gave modders a voice on the revamped Virtual Console, making it not only a place to purchase classic titles but also a venue to unveil fresh takes on them? Nintendo could scout out the best mods, approach the people who created them, and give them the opportunity to see some financial compensation for their hard work. If Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island costs $8 on V.C., Nintendo could charge that for a Yoshi's Island mod with a patched rom, and kick half the profits back to the creators and Nintendo can pocket the rest. Not only is Nintendo making a fiscal profit, they are creating an ever-expanding online community of tech-savvy fans. In today’s ever-evolving, retro-Renaissance gaming environment, an investment like that is priceless.

Corporate entities need to learn how to wade the grey waters of discerning what is a potentially harmful infringement of their intellectual property from what could potentially be a lucrative creative endeavor. Attacking individuals for their creative homages with corporate-shark lawyers not only hurts your relationship with fans (and to borrow a line from The Social Network, “makes you look like you’re chasing the Karate Kid through the high school gym”) it prevents you from seeing beyond the horizon to an ever-brighter future. Mods aren’t going away, and under no circumstances should they. They embody a shining example of creative collaboration; a “family patch-work quilt” if you will, with generations of fans adding new ideas to established legacies. When a corporate boot comes along and stomps on a mod, it’s not only the mod’s creators that should be lamenting, but everyone who cherishes video games as a medium.