The million dollar retro game auctions help us remind ourselves of what matters most: the talking point
As you’ve no doubt seen in recent years, there have been some high-profile and dazzling retro game sales that have reached hundreds of thousands of US dollars, and now more than $ 2 million. It has been quite disconcerting for viewers; These are extremely common game copies, after all, and the downside has been that it has also raised prices for dedicated collectors. The headline numbers are wild and independent, but they inflate the “normal” market elsewhere.
It is also increasingly clear that the bubble that has led to microinvestment schemes is becoming even less sustainable. There are now detailed and well-reasoned arguments that this hyperinflation, which defies logic for many who know the history of the game and the collector’s scene in particular, is riddled with foul play, cynicism and greed.
We shared it earlier in the article linked above, but Karl Jobst’s video The full truth about what is suspected to be happening here is worth seeing. As a one-paragraph summary, Jobst describes and connects a small number of people and businesses that have been at the heart of the ‘Mario’s game sells for megabucks’ headlines that have been in every game and in the broader media as of late. The video report presents evidence that it says points to deliberate market manipulation, acquiring and then ‘buying back’ games at heavily inflated prices to create an over-the-top market. With successful price inflation, driven by ‘rating’ systems and high-value auctions, it brings investors to market and continues to grow. You are creating an unrealistic price bubble.
Many of us settle for buying a nice art print while gawking at the auctions for the original paintings, and somehow the same thing happens in games.
It’s a fascinating subject, and in some ways we could consider it an obscene sideshow in games, a demonstration of how the popularity of the mainstream colliding with opportunists leads to these sorts of insane initiatives. It feels like a parallel universe that we gawk at, while unidentified millionaires drop money, or maybe pretend a: trade games that are only worth a fraction of the sale price. Many of us settle for buying a nice art print while staring at auctions for original paintings, and somehow the same thing happens in games. The value attributed to an original, or in the case of the game to be stamped and supposedly qualified games, however, the value we place on our own copies does not necessarily matter. After all, many of us have our own prized boxes and cartridges, because we play them and personally valued them decades ago; our slightly wrinkled copy of Super Mario Bros. is no less “authentic” than the hermetically sealed mint version.
The problem, of course, is that the impact seeps into something more like the real world to collect. You can still find loose cartridges and game copies at affordable prices, but those prices keep rising, in some cases, a little faster than normal inflation. The craze around mint stamped copies also makes those premium collectibles harder to find at “reasonable” prices. Many of us can still collect video game memorabilia; there are millions of copies of Super Mario Bros. and The Legend of Zelda in the wild, but the cost and expected quality of the copies are still inflated and artificially handicapped by obscene prices on the higher end.
What this latest coverage of the artificially inflated market does help, ultimately, is breaking through the attention-grabbing numbers and PR and perhaps contributing to the eventual bursting of the current million-dollar gambling bubble. It’s a welcome progression and a big credit goes to those involved in shedding light on the cynical business behind the million-plus dollar game sales that, on the surface, were viewed by many with surprise and indeed, credulity. It’s fascinating to see games fall victim to the same strange market forces that have developed in other areas of culture, but it’s also nice to see the curtain rise.
As the rest of this bizarre period in high-end gaming compilation unfolds, toward the inevitable collapse, it reminds us of how poorly games protect their history. We touched on this earlier in the year in relation to digital preservation and ROM discussions; What are gaming companies going to do to help protect their own history? How do we ensure that gamers around the world can see and appreciate the history of games, not just the games themselves, but the ephemeral that defines them: the box art we love, the manuals and products that defined generations ?
To slip into a personal point for a brief moment, for two years I studied ‘the history of the book’ at the University of Edinburgh, viewing and accessing extraordinary collections of manuscripts, first-edition novels, and, in some cases, early examples. history ‘books’. produced. The University, the National Library of Scotland, a wealthy benefactor who plans to donate key parts of his collection in the future, all were custodians of this material. None of this was profitable, but it was deemed important: a preservation of history and culture, along with initiatives to share these historical elements with the world.
One problem gambling has had in its relative youth … is that it wasn’t always treated seriously as an art form worth preserving.
One problem gambling has had in its relative youth, which is perhaps changing as it is now as popular and mainstream as the more traditional media, is that it was not always treated seriously as an art form worth preserving. . We’ve talked to owners of fascinating collectibles they got when they worked at game companies and would literally throw them out of the trash. It was simply “stock” now considered valuable, such as a Kirby e-reader card from E3 2002. There are organizations looking to collect and preserve this history, such as the Videogame History Foundation, similar to how academic institutes and libraries have done for centuries of rare books.
Perhaps Nintendo is planning to do its part, too – their plans for a ‘Nintendo Gallery’ focused on showcasing ‘historic Nintendo products’ sound promising. The history of gaming dates back long before Nintendo even thought of entering the market, but there is no doubt that in modern gaming history, the big N is the old stage in the industry, so should lead the way in preservation and share those joys with the public.
What games ultimately need for their long-term historical preservation is for companies like Nintendo, Sony, Microsoft, and major publishers to lead the way, keeping copies of all games and their related media for future generations. We should see more museum displays, events, and exhibits of this story for the public to enjoy, and ideally there will be major digitization efforts. It’s not just about ROMs, but scans of everything else that has been a part of gaming history. In other words, projects like the Video Game History Foundation but on an even larger scale, organized and supported by the huge corporations that ultimately hold the keys to the kingdom of archives.
And hopefully, once this crazy bubble of inflated “sealed copies” prices bursts, we can return to a collector’s economy that is fairer and more accessible. Because an arbitrary ‘rating’ ultimately doesn’t matter, it doesn’t add true value. The value is in the history of video games, their packaging, wear and all. The value of the games should not be related to their investment potential or their pursuit of profit, but rather to what they mean to players of all ages and beliefs, no matter how they choose to collect, display, preserve or, you know , play them.
History, the history of video games, does not belong to a handful of speculative investors, and ultimately never will be.
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