Living a Second Life - Virtual online worlds 10-10-06 Category: Online Communities, Internet Culture Key Points: As of late September, there were 747,263 residents of Second Life - and the number is growing by about 20% every month. The social applications of Second Life are extremely diverse: A potential presidential candidate held an interview in the virtual world, while a University of California professor used it to teach others about schizophrenia. In some ways, the current evolution of MMORPGs mirrors the development of MUDs in the 80s. What started out as an action-oriented text-based role-playing game eventually took on a variety of forms including Tiny-MUD, developed by Jim Aspnes at Carnegie Mellon University, which provided users with the ability to code and create new objects and landscapes. One of the fundamental differentiators of MMORPGs like Second Life is the integration of offline commerce into the system.  Allegedly, Second Life already has about 7,000 profitable "businesses." *** Excerpt - for full article, please visit The Economist   PETER YELLOWLEES, a professor of psychiatry at the University of California, Davis, has been teaching about schizophrenia for 20 years, but says that he was never really able to explain to his students just how their patients suffer. So he went online, downloaded some free software and entered Second Life. This is a "metaverse" (ie, metaphysical universe), a three-dimensional world whose users, or "residents", can create and be anything they want. Mr Yellowlees created hallucinations. A resident might walk through a virtual hospital ward, and a picture on the wall would suddenly flash the word "shitface". The floor might fall away, leaving the person to walk on stepping stones above the clouds. An in-world television set would change from showing an actual speech by Bob Hawke, Australia's former prime minister, into Mr Hawke shouting, "Go and kill yourself, you wretch!" A reflection in a mirror might have bleeding eyes and die. When Mr Yellowlees invited, as part of a trial, Second Life's public into the ward, 73% of the visitors said afterwards that it "improved [their] understanding of schizophrenia." Mr Yellowlees then went further. For about $300 a month, he leases an island in Second Life, where he has built a clinic that looks exactly like the real one in Sacramento where many of his students practice. He gives his students "avatars", or online personas, so they can attend his lectures inside Second Life and then experience hallucinations. "It's so powerful that some get quite upset," says Mr Yellowlees. Second Life, as Mr Yellowlees illustrates, is not a game. Admittedly, some residents—there were 747,263 as of late September, and the number is growing by about 20% every month—are there just for fun. They fly over islands, meander through castles and gawk at dragons. But increasing numbers use Second Life for things that are quite serious. They form support groups for cancer survivors. They rehearse responses to earthquakes and terrorist attacks. They build Buddhist retreats and meditate. Many use it as an enhanced communications medium. Mark Warner, a former governor of Virginia who is considered a possible Democratic candidate for president in 2008, recently became the first politician to give an interview in Second Life. His avatar (also named Mark Warner) flew into a virtual town hall and sat down with Hamlet Au, a full-time reporter in Second Life. "This is my first virtual appearance," Mr Warner joked, "I'm feeling a little disembodied." They then proceeded to discuss Iraq and other issues as they would in real life, with 62 other avatars attending (some of them levitating), until Mr Warner disappeared in a cloud of pixels. By emphasising creativity and communication, Second Life is different from other synthetic online worlds. Most "massively multi-player online role-playing games", or MMORPGs (pronounced "morpegs"), offer players pre-fabricated or themed fantasy worlds. The biggest by far is "World of Warcraft", by Blizzard Entertainment, a firm in California, which has more than 7m subscribers. These worlds are the modern, interactive, equivalents of Nordic myths and Tolkien fantasies, says Edward Castronova, a professor at Indiana University and the author of "Synthetic Worlds: The Business and Culture of Online Games". They allow players to escape into their imaginations, and to take part by, say, joining with others to slay a monster. Second Life, by contrast, was designed from inception for a much deeper level of participation. "Since I was a kid, I was into using computers to simulate reality," says Philip Rosedale, the founder of Linden Lab, the San Francisco firm that launched Second Life commercially three years ago. So he set out to construct something that would allow people to "extend reality" by building a virtual version of it, a "second life" not unlike that envisioned by Neal Stephenson in "Snow Crash", a science-fiction novel published in 1992. Unlike other virtual worlds, which may allow players to combine artefacts found within them, Second Life provides its residents with the equivalent of atoms—small elements of virtual matter called "primitives"—so that they can build things from scratch. Cory Ondrejka, Linden Lab's product-development boss, gives the example of a piano. Using atomistic construction, a resident of Second Life might build one out of primitives, with all the colours and textures that he would like. He might add sound to the primitives representing the keys, so the piano could actually be played in Second Life. "Of course, since these are primitives, the piano could also fly or follow the resident around like a pet," says Mr Ondrejka. Because everything about Second Life is intended to make it an engine of creativity, Linden Lab early on decided that residents should own the intellectual property inherent in their creations. Second Life now allows creators to determine whether the stuff they conceive may be copied, modified or transferred. Thanks to these property rights, residents actively trade their creations. Of about 10m objects created, about 230,000 are bought and sold every month in the in-world currency, Linden dollars, which is exchangeable for hard currency. Linden Lab estimates that the total value (in "real" dollars) this year will be about $60m. Second Life already has about 7,000 profitable "businesses", where avatars supplement or make their living from their in-world creativity. The top ten in-world entrepreneurs are making average profits of just over $200,000 a year. Second Life's total devotion to what is fashionably called "user-generated content" now places it, unlike other MMORPGs, at the centre of a trend called Web 2.0. This term usually refers to free online services delivered through a web browser—for example, social networks in which users blog and share photos. Second Life is not delivered through a web browser but through its own software, which users need to install on their computers. In other respects, however, it is now often held up as the best example of Web 2.0. "It celebrates individuality," says Jaron Lanier, who pioneered the concept of "virtual reality" in the 1980s and is now "science adviser" at Linden Lab. And it connects people, he says, because "the act of creation is the act of being social." The Web 2.0 crowd also extols Second Life for its highly original business model. Most Web 2.0 firms try to build audiences around user-generated content in order to sell advertising to them. This assumes the availability of unlimited advertising dollars, a notion that is increasingly ridiculed. Linden Lab does not sell advertising; instead it is a virtual property company. It makes money when residents lease property—an island, say—by charging an average of $20 per virtual "acre" per month. Only about 25,000 residents, or about 3% or the population, lease property, but that already amounts to 53,800 acres, which, in real life, would be bigger than Boston. This works out to monthly revenues of $1m, not counting the commissions that it takes on currency exchanges between Linden dollars and hard cash. As a private company, Linden Lab does not disclose its exact revenues, although Mr Rosedale says the firm is "close to profitability". A common reaction to such numbers is astonishment that anybody should pay anything at all for something that exists only in a metaphysical sense. But "there's actually no economic puzzle in this; all kinds of things derive their economic value only from the realm of the virtual," says Indiana University's Mr Castronova. The American dollar, for instance, is virtual (aside from the value of the paper used for the bills) in that it requires consumers to have faith in its worth. In the context of online games, virtual economies much bigger than Second Life's have existed for years. Many people in poor countries, called "gold farmers", play games such as "World of Warcraft" professionally to score weapons, points or lives to sell to lazier players in rich countries. But Second Life is unique in that residents conceive what they sell. As such, says Mr Lanier, it is "probably the only example of a self-sustained economy" on the internet. For all these reasons—its ability to change the real lives of its residents, its innovations in technology and in its business model—Second Life has become a darling of Silicon Valley. It promises to be "disruptive", says Mitch Kapor, the inventor of the Lotus spreadsheet that played a big role in the personal-computer revolution of the 1980s and 1990s. He is now chairman of Linden Lab. To him, Second Life is comparable to both the PC and the internet itself, which started as something "quirky" for geeks, and then entered and transformed mainstream society. "Spending part of your day in a virtual world will become commonplace" and "profoundly normal," says Mr Kapor. Ultimately, he thinks, Second Life will "displace both desktop computing" and other two-dimensional "user interfaces". As "a hothouse of innovation and experiment," he says, Second Life may even "accelerate the social evolution of humanity." Full Article <- Back to: Single View