It Costs How Much?! — A Rumination On the Economics of Collectible Games

October 22nd, 2009 by Ed Grabianowski
Give me a Shelby Cobra. Now that's a mythic rare.

Give me a Shelby Cobra. Now that's a mythic rare.

It’s a phrase heard at game and card shops around the world, typically when someone with deeper pockets buys some ridiculously overpriced card or miniature: “It’s just paper and ink. There’s no way I’d pay that much!” That may be true, but somebody would. Here’s an essay on why the things we love cost as much as they do. You were hoping for something about dragons or zombies or something, I know. Next week, Vikings. Next week.

I particularly love the, “It’s just paper and ink” argument. I always ask the person who said it if they’ll give me a $20 bill. When they act incredulous, I say, “What, it’s just paper and ink.” Here’s the truth about value — all value is an illusion. Things hold their value because we all buy into the illusion. If people stop believing something has value, it loses that value. Here’s a link to an article on Currency I wrote for HowStuffWorks.com a few years ago that goes into this sort of thing in greater detail.

So why is our friend the Lotus Cobra, for example, worth more than a Felidar Sovereign? Or why are Moxes worth so freaking much? Some of the answer is simple. A lot of it is more complex than you think.

The simple part is basic supply and demand. Increased supply drives down prices. Increased demand drives them up. For an in-print game (I’ll use Magic: the Gathering for all the examples since most gamers are at least aware of how it works), supply is pretty static. You get a certain number of cards per pack; a certain number of them are common, uncommon, rare and mythic rare. The supply is even self-correcting for increases in demand — as more people become interested in the game, demand increases, but so does the number of people opening packs, so supply goes up as well.

The supply of certain types of cards is intrinsically limited by the design of the game. Rares are rarer than uncommons. Reduced supply means those cards will naturally tend to cost more. Obvious enough. When you introduce demand, however, things get interesting. For one thing, there can be virtually no demand for a crappy rare. It might sell for under a dollar. There might be a common that pretty much everyone wants four or more of, so even though you could open a few packs and almost guarantee getting one, a single common might sell for $3 (like Lightning Bolt). Demand can shift rapidly, too. That crappy rare? Well, suddenly some guy in Lansing, Michigan wins a PTQ with his Donate/Illusions of Grandeur deck, and the price of Donate goes up 1,000 percent because everyone else wants to build one, too.

You may think of yourself as a rational person, an individual unswayed by groupthink and resistant to conformity. The truth is, all humans are prone to herd mentality. It’s some kind of evolutionary advantage when you’re hunting and gathering, no doubt, but it sucks when you’re making economic decisions. Let’s say you’ve been playing a red and green aggro deck at local Magic tournaments. It does well consistently, but there’s a big regional tournament coming up, so you look online for a few tips to tweak it and gain a slight edge. You see that everyone is using four Lotus Cobras. You’ve been running a common in that slot for months, and it works. You know it works. You’ve tested and proved that it works. You have raw empirical data that shows you should not be using the Lotus Cobra in your deck. But even the most independent thinkers among us will be severely tempted to go out and buy a playset of Lotus Cobras before the big tourney. So, often demand can be driven up not by the actual quality of a card or its utility in a given situation, but by a simple desire to follow the crowd.

Perceived desirability has a strange effect as well. You can notice this most readily with foil cards. Functionally, foil cards offer no advantage over non-foil versions. Their rarity makes the supply of foil cards smaller than non-foils, so they have correspondingly higher prices. However, this wouldn’t be true in the absence of demand. If we all made perfectly rational decisions when we purchased things, no one would ever buy foils until their price reached the same level as the non-foils. But people buy them.

This is even more exaggerated when you look at the Power 9, those classic overpowered Magic cards from the first set. Their prices today are astronomically high. This can’t be explained by simple supply and demand. The supply is relatively low because they are out of print, but very few gamers are looking to buy them. There’s virtually no use for them (vintage tournaments being few and far between), and they’re restricted to one per deck, so no one needs to buy four of them. They’re not even that inherently powerful; contrary to popular belief, the card text on Black Lotus does not read: “You win.” I suspect that they are being perceived as extremely valuable cards, regardless of their specific utility. They are considered the ultimate Magic cards to own, and often serve as status symbols, much like an expensive diamond ring. This perception of value is like a positive feedback loop: “They’re so expensive, they must be awesome. If they’re awesome, they must be worth a lot of money!”

The final factor I’ll mention is another aspect of human nature that researchers have confirmed many times — we all think we’re better at stuff than we actually are. I’m not as funny, smart or skilled at driving as I think I am, and neither are you. How does this drive up collectible game prices? When you play and lose, you will tend to think that you suffered from some disadvantage at the outset. You didn’t have the right cards. If you did, clearly your superior skill would have won you the game. Which are the right cards? The really expensive ones your opponent had, most likely (remember that herd mentality thing). At some point in their playing “career,” every collectible gamer says or thinks the following phrase: “I could do so much better if only I had…” You may, and you may not, but you almost always think you will.

Ok, class dismissed.

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7 Responses to “It Costs How Much?! — A Rumination On the Economics of Collectible Games”

  1. Comment by mordicai

    Slightly askew of this: I really tout RPG books as well, well worth their 30+ pricetags. Seriously, I go back to certain pages in rule books over & over again. Count the pages, divide by the price, & think how often you use each page– then compare it to a novel. Gaming books even do well on re-reads; how often have you grabbed one off the shelf to kill five minutes & found something you missed the ten previous times you looked at it?

  2. Comment by Ed Grabianowski

    Very true on all points, Mordicai. Even old editions or books from games we don’t play any more have useful or at least interesting things in them.

  3. Comment by The BullLifter

    Heh. I was always willing to pay more for a card that had nice artwork, increasing my desirability for it. Newer/older version price would change in my head depending on if artwork changed for better or worse. Damn I’m shallow.

    Even askew to Mordicai’s point: Whenever I was asked why I can spend upwards of $60 on a video game, and not be willing to pay $12.50 for a freaking movie, I always responded the same way. I play the hell out my games. It usually ends up being less than $1 per hour for a video game, whereas, I am lucky to get $4 an hour for a decent movie.

    More on point to Mordicai’s point: I have read my old Battletech sourcebooks for hours upon hours upon hours beyond any novel. RPG books are great.

  4. Comment by mordicai

    I was just going through the Tome of Magic from ADnD 2e with a gamer new to 4e & she was cracking up at the Wild Magic tables…

  5. Comment by ggodo

    This is why I rarely buy singles, and until they stopped selling them, almost exclusively bought tournament packs and precon decks. To me, the casual player who buys cards more for variety than power, these were the best way to get cards that I would be able to use. Buy a precon, bam, instant deck. Buy a tournament pack, buncha cars, and enough land you could begin making a a nonprecon based deck. Plus they were a better deal. $10-$12 for the equivalent of 3 boosters + land was more justifiable to me than $4 for stuff I probably won’t find a use for without a deck from the set. these new intro packs are crap, they cost the same as three packs, give you less than three packs worth of cards and don’t give you enough cards to actually play the game even if the booster pack contains all on color cards. Heck, the only thing I feel even vaguely justified buying is the fat packs, and after doing the math, those are a rip off too. Grrrrrrrrr. . . . I want tournament packs and real precon decks back.

  6. Comment by Ed Grabianowski

    I don’t like the new decks either – the 40 card thing bugs me, because they don’t match up against all the other precons I’ve collected over the years. But the worst part to me is that they don’t come with boxes!

  7. Comment by ggodo

    I’m just really annnoyed that my friends want to buy a deck and play. not buy a deck, open a pack, get cards that don’t help them, then rely on donations from people who have been playing longer, then play. Yea, and what the heck is up with the no boxes thing? That doesn’t even make any sense. I’m not going to buy one of their uber plastic ones for the price of another deck, and most folks aren’t going to make their own from card board and duct tape like I do when I run out of boxes.