Microtransactions… They are everywhere. They and everything that is connected with them, all these premium subscriptions, super-premium-mega-max subscriptions, loot boxes, gachas, battle passes. Most often, the attitude towards them varies from "necessary evil" to "just evil", if you ask the players about it. Yes, it is so, but according to the Newzoo report, 58% of the money that players spent on games last year was on microtransactions, and this, for a moment, is as much as $24.4 billion and this is more than it was before. In short, there are many dissatisfied people, but gamers' wallets are still becoming lighter thanks to additional in-game purchases.
And if you think about what consequences tolerating such schemes can lead to (watch the first episode of the seventh season of Black Mirror), it becomes completely sad. However, are microtransactions an absolute evil? Let's figure it out. And at the same time, let's remember where they came from in the first place.
Types of digital temptations
It's hard to believe, but there are lucky people who live with microtransactions in parallel realities. For example, people who play mostly indie games. But in any case, it's better to define what we mean by microtransactions or, in other words, micropayments. This is the name of the model of distributing media content or access to certain services for small prices, often not exceeding $10–15. This content is usually not required to complete the main game, but either makes it more beautiful (cosmetic items), or strengthens the player (experience loot, powerful ammunition or a high-ranking fighter). Or it allows you to go on a new adventure (story DLC can also be included here).
The relatively low price seems to lower the psychological barrier for a potential buyer. Marketers at game studios have borrowed the experience of colleagues from other fields and found that most people simply will not buy additional content that costs more than the price of the game itself. The average user will not spend thousands of dollars on expensive skins in Counter-Strike, but a couple of open boxes with a surprise will not hit the wallet so hard, and the chance to get an expensive weapon is still attractive.
Such purchases are called impulsive: "came, saw, bought." They are accompanied by a moment of emotional uplift and a desire for instant gratification - without thinking about whether it was really necessary.
Just as there are different game genres, there are different types of microtransactions. And, as with any classification, there are heroes and anti-heroes.
Let's start with cosmetic items, the most innocent type. "It's just a hat for your character!" - the developers reassure us. And we believe, opening our wallets for another skin worth a good lunch. In Counter-Strike with its skin market you can pay hundreds of dollars for a virtual knife that does not give any gaming advantage. But how it shines!
Then there are Pay-to-Win mechanics, where the game turns from "who is the best player" to "who has the fattest wallet." In such systems, a credit card is often more important than skills. FIFA fans know what we're talking about: without investing tens or hundreds of dollars in Ultimate Team mode, you can't even dream of real online competition.
Loot boxes are another popular temptation. The same one where there's a box with a surprise. With real money you buy a chance to get something valuable. Or not. Mostly not. But the excitement whispers: "One more time, and it's definitely going to fall out!" That's why Belgium and the Netherlands equated some video games with gambling and banned them on their territory.
Next up is gacha. This is a particularly popular model in mobile games, originally from Japan, that simulates slot machines with random prizes. Like the ones in the video.
You spend in-game or real-world currency to "drop" a rare weapon, character, or other useful item. The system works like a collectible lottery - the more you roll, the higher your chances of collecting a full set. But it's the element of randomness that keeps players coming back again and again. Gacha is about both the emotional thrill and the desire to "collect them all," even if it means breaking the piggy bank. The special thing is that you know the list of what you can drop, and sometimes even the chance of dropping items of a particular level.
Let's not forget about season passes - "a subscription to a second job in your favorite game", as gamers ironically call them. Pay now, grind later to get what you've already paid for. Fortnite has elevated this model to the level of art - every few months millions of players buy a new Battle Pass and conscientiously "work" to unlock all its levels. Well, for the Brawl Pass in Brawl Stars, kids are ready to make their parents' wallets lighter about once a month.
Microtransactions from slot machines to MMOs
If you look really deep, even the good old arcade machines of the 1970s and 1980s had some of this model. Lose? Flip another coin and try again. Or a machine with toys that you have to catch on a hook - that's actually pure "gacha". This was an early form of "pay to play more". But the real birth of the modern microtransaction model began a little later.
The late 1990s and early 2000s. While gamers with powerful PCs were enjoying Quake 3 and Half-Life, simple but addictive browser games were gradually appearing on the Internet. One early example was the social game Habbo Hotel (2000), where users bought interior items for their virtual rooms with real money. It wasn't quite a donat in the modern sense, but it was close.
The real first wave of monetization came with the massive boom of MMORPGs in the early 2000s: Lineage II, EVE Online, World of Warcraft, Ragnarok Online, Perfect World. Most of these games used a subscription model – pay monthly and play. But towards the end of the decade, a new trend emerged: the games themselves could be free to play, but have in-game stores.
Players greeted the innovation with caution. In EVE Online, developers introduced the Aurum currency, which sold cosmetic items for avatars. Players were surprised: why pay real money for things that do not affect the gameplay - or even cost more than something in real life? But if you spend months of your life in the game, sometimes you want to adjust the picture a little...
Blizzard with World of Warcraft (2004) was not left out either. At first, it was just a $10 subscription, which made WoW the most successful MMO of the decade. But already in 2009, the company cautiously introduced the first microtransactions. The first paid items were the Pandaren pet and the miniature Kel'Thuzad - exclusive, cute and unavailable in the game without real money. The community's reaction? Of course, outrage. To reduce the damage, Blizzard announced that part of the profit would go to charity. But even then, the price of the pet was equal to the cost of a monthly subscription. Symbolically.
And then, as if at the gates of Troy, the "horse that changed everything" appeared. In April 2010, Blizzard introduced the Celestial Steed - the first mount that could be obtained for only $25. The community was seething, but Blizzard silently counted the profits. And was shocked: in just the first 2 hours of sales, the "celestial steed" brought in over $2 million. One mount - more money than the entire StarCraft II, which was developed for 7 years.
This success completely changed the approach to monetization: now even large and respected studios have understood that you can sell "cool stuff" in the game and earn millions. And players, although outraged, buy it anyway. On the same wave, the donation continued its existence in all sorts of browser games like Happy Farm and the like.
The mobile boom and a new level of microtransactions
The 2010s were the birth of mobile gaming. With the release of the fourth and later generations of the iPhone, the advent of the iPad, and the development of Android, mobile devices became powerful enough to run full-fledged games. Old games that once required powerful PCs or consoles began to be ported to phones. But we are not talking about them, but about various mobile timekillers and simplified games of old genres.
For example, Clash of Clans. In 2012, it was released by the then unknown small Finnish studio Supercell. Although it is a strategy, it is very simple and addictive, so it became a hit. The donation system is built into the game very cleverly. Players could play for free, but impatient ones paid to speed up construction or level up their troops.
Supercell showed the world that microtransactions, when implemented correctly, not only don't scare players away, but can also generate billions. The success of Clash of Clans spawned a wave of clones, but few studios have been able to achieve similar results.
Supercell itself spawned another hit – the horror of modern parents – Brawl Stars (2018). This is a dynamic mobile MOBA with an emphasis on collecting characters and cosmetics. Although the game actively promotes purchases, the balance allows it to remain competitive even without donations, which commands respect among players.
But tell your child about this, and you might hear about "an exclusive skin, it's absolutely necessary, because it has such cool animation, and you can only buy it now, later it won't be available at all."
Gacha, loot boxes and the Genshin Impact phenomenon
Gacha games have a special place in history. As we've already said, they're based on the idea of a "random reward from a list" - something like the capsule vending machines that are very popular in Japan. The player spends resources, real or in-game, to get a random character or item. The mechanics are exciting, as there's always a chance (albeit a slim one) of getting something rare.
The flagship of this genre was the game Genshin Impact (2020) from the Chinese studio miHoYo. The game combined a large open world, a deep combat system and a gacha mechanic for unlocking characters. In its first year, it brought in over $3 billion, all thanks to a "free" game with deeply integrated microtransactions.
Well, loot boxes – those virtual surprise boxes – have firmly settled in Western online games. From Overwatch to FIFA, from Call of Duty to Apex Legends – players are tempted by the lights, animations and sounds of opening, which have already become an element of pleasure in themselves. And although many developers are now replacing loot boxes with Battle passes or direct purchases, the principle itself – selling a chance – has not disappeared.
AAA projects and the invasion of microtransactions into big games
Microtransactions aren't just for MMOs and mobile gaming ("unfortunately," some readers will say). In 2006, they officially invaded major Western games. And the first swallow was armor... for a horse. Bethesda released additional content for the classic The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion - cosmetic "horse armor" for $2.50.
Players were shocked: how is it to pay for something that does not give any bonuses? Despite the wave of criticism, it was this unfortunate armor that laid the foundation for the trend of selling purely cosmetic items in big games. Big studios realized that this was a Trojan horse, and microtransactions were a gold mine.
Electronic Arts was one of the pioneers – and anti-heroes – of the AAA donation era. The most high-profile scandal was caused by Star Wars Battlefront II (2017). The $60 game also required... either $2,100 or 4,528 hours of play to unlock all the content. An EA representative tried to explain on Reddit that this was normal, and here's how he did it, translated into Ukrainian:
We wanted to give players a sense of pride and achievement for unlocking different heroes. As for the cost, we chose the initial values based on data from the open beta and other adjustments to the reward system before launch. In particular, we analyze the average number of credits that players earn per day and will continuously make adjustments to make it interesting, rewarding, and of course realistic for players to achieve goals through gameplay.
The phrase about "a sense of pride and achievement" sparked outrage from the community. People saw it as a cynical attempt to justify the game's exploitative monetization - and it became a meme that haunts EA to this day. The comment became the most disliked in the platform's history - with over 667,000 dislikes.
Ubisoft also contributed to the "first create the problem - then sell the solution" formula. In Assassin's Creed Odyssey and Valhalla, they added experience boosters that allowed you to complete the game faster. Without them, the game felt deliberately drawn out at some point. As players said: "They made the game boring so you could pay to make it interesting again."
Against this dark wave, Valve with Dota 2 looked like an angel in armor with the Battle Pass. In the game, all microtransactions are cosmetic only. There is no "pay-to-win", only "pay and look cool".
But even here, microtransactions bring huge profits: the annual tournament The International in 2021 had a prize pool of over $40 million. And all this thanks to battle passes purchased by ordinary players.
Digital identity: what are we paying for virtually?
When we pay for something we can't hold, wear, or eat, what are we buying? These aren't just digital items—we're paying for emotions, status, and, in turn, the ability to say, "I'm with them." When your character in Valorant shows up on the map with an animated weapon that costs as much as a new washing machine, it's not just a game. It's a way to express yourself. It's like a virtual dress code, only without the real world, and very often the player, especially the young one, feels cooler than those who run around with the default character look.
There was a time when in World of Warcraft, driving a rare mount to the "rink" was like driving a Ferrari through Ternopil. And although this mount remained only within the game, the feeling of having a special status did not go away even after leaving the game. It's all about creating an identity through pixels. Our society is modeled in such a way that people often buy an expensive iPhone Pro Max not because they need a cool camera or a powerful processor, but simply because it is a status.
So the same logic works in games, but in virtual worlds capitalism does not stop, it has no limits. In Diablo Immortal, players realized that without donations it is practically impossible to achieve high results. One fan calculated that without microtransactions it would take… 10 years to level up a character. But why wait when you can become a virtual god for a few dollars? This is a classic example of crystal-clear capitalism, where you pay and get the opportunity to own something special. Or you don’t pay and suffer because progress is slowed down.
Microtransactions have become part of the marketing art, where every purchase is not just an act of consumption, but even a certain performance, a demonstration of your digital identity. And although it looks like a distortion of reality, we still do it with the desire: "I want to be better, even if it's only in the game."
And here, among these technologies, the question arises as to how developers explain such financial mechanisms. They always find excellent reasons for implementing microtransactions: “This will help support the servers!”, “This is new content for everyone!”, “Without this, the game could not exist!”. And even if this is partially true, the question arises: why should these few donors be able to destroy everyone else who just wants to spend time in the game without additional costs? Sometimes they introduce separation – a place for everyone and a separate one for donors. It smells a bit like segregation, doesn’t it?
But, on the other hand, if a game offers a quick fix where you can either spend months building your village in Clash of Clans, or just spend a few dollars and become the ruler of the world, it's not about strategy anymore. It's about the ability to buy yourself a victory without thinking about the moral consequences.
When asking yourself questions about morality and ethics, it's hard not to notice the fine line between normal monetization practices and blatant manipulation of players. When a game's progress is deliberately slowed down and then a "quick fix" for a few dollars appears, it already resembles blackmail more than a healthy business model.
This is especially noticeable when it comes to children. In Brawl Stars, for example, bright mega boxes that look like lottery winnings captivate children, but in the end, parents receive bills for several dozen euros. These are no longer just games, but in a sense a dopamine needle.
Gambling?
When loot boxes first appeared, they looked like a new form of digital gift to yourself - a kind of Kinder Surprise. True, without chocolate, but with a chance of either a legendary weapon or a purple pony costume. But somewhere between the tenth purchase and the fifth time, when the same useless item fell out, players suddenly realized: this is no longer just a game. This is roulette. And this roulette takes money from the card. Doesn't all this remind you of gambling? And how it reminds you!
Lawyers thought so too, and at some point, attempts began in many countries to ban loot boxes. In the US, for example, Senator Josh Hawley didn't like the fact that kids were spending a lot of money on Fortnite, so in 2019 he proposed banning microtransactions in games for minors. The law, of course, didn't pass, but after that, American games got stylish "Loot boxes here" stickers as a warning about nicotine.
In the UK, in 2020, the National Health Service (NHS) publicly expressed concern that loot boxes in games were forming gambling-like habits in children. The "pay-try-get-a-random-prize" structure looks like legal roulette for schoolchildren. No law has yet been passed, but there have been serious calls for regulation and even ideas to equate loot boxes with gambling.
Australia is no exception: regulators there have said that if it looks like gambling, is played like gambling, and financially drains the player like gambling, then it is. Video games have fallen under the local Interactive Gambling Act. So developers have to be careful: anything that even slightly resembles slot machines could get an 18+ rating or even be taken off the market.
Japan is a true pioneer in the fight against excessive monetization. Back in 2012, the country drew attention to a dangerous mechanic that became known as "full gacha" or compu gacha (コンプガチャ). Its essence is simple but insidious: the player was offered to collect random items from the gacha, but the main prize, for example, a rare character or a powerful artifact, was awarded only after the player had collected a complete collection of these random items. The costs, accordingly, could be bottomless.
The Japanese Consumer Affairs Agency (CAA) was not left out: in May 2012, they issued an official clarification that such mechanics may violate existing laws - in particular, the Act against Unjustified Premiums and Misleading Claims. They equated computer gacha with already banned schemes such as "card collecting".
As a result, without the adoption of a separate law, but under serious pressure, Japan's largest gaming companies, such as GREE and DeNA, voluntarily and very quickly removed computer gacha from their games.
However, the issue of loot boxes has not remained only at the level of state initiatives. Legal discussions have also affected the companies themselves. For example, Electronic Arts has repeatedly found itself in the spotlight because of its games, where random sets of items (especially in sports simulators like FIFA) have raised questions about the similarity of the mechanics to gambling. In some cases, EA has even been accused of organizing illegal gambling. Similar criticism has been leveled at Apple - the company has been accused of allowing the sale of random items in applications that are accessible even to children.
Meanwhile, the CS:GO Lotto scandal that occurred on Valve's Steam platform has further fueled these discussions. The platform allows games to reward players with digital items (skins) that can then be sold on Steam for real money. Rare items in CS:GO can be worth a lot of money (thousands of dollars).
In 2015, two influencers, Trevor Martin and Thomas Cassell, registered a business and website called CS:GO Lotto, where CS:GO skins could be wagered in casino-style games. As the owners of the site, they made videos exaggerating the odds of winning and concealed the fact that they owned CS:GO Lotto. In 2017, the FTC (Federal Trade Commission) formally charged them and ordered them to publicly disclose their involvement in all subsequent transactions. They escaped further prosecution because they did not formally buy or sell skins directly, and the skins could be obtained for free by playing CS:GO.
Initially, Valve was also sued, but a direct link between Valve and sites like CS:GO Lotto could not be established, and the case was closed. In addition, funds on Steam are stored in a digital wallet from which they cannot be transferred to a bank, which makes it difficult to classify as gambling. Officially, Valve claims that gambling sites that use the Steam API violate its terms of use, and they regularly send cease and desist letters. However, the presence of gambling sites with CS:GO skins demonstrates the company's inability to enforce these terms.
Microtransactions: the black mirror of society
Developers often justify microtransactions by the need to maintain servers and add new content. Of course, these arguments have a basis: after all, Free-to-Play games live only thanks to those who pay. The question that arises is different: why should these "ten donors" have the advantage and the opportunity to destroy other players who just want to relax after a hard day? Microtransactions are like legalized cheats. They banned doping in sports competitions after all... And also - do you think, if it weren't for microtransactions in GTA Online, how many years ago would we have had GTA VI?
So the question is: are we ready to see this practice become the norm? And are we ready to accept that microtransactions will become not just a way of financing, but also the main driving force of the gaming industry?
Moreover, microtransactions are not just about games. They are a mirror into which the modern digital economy looks. "Pay to avoid inconvenience", "random chance at something good", "spend more to be on par" - these principles are increasingly being extended beyond gameplay.
Look at other industries: streaming services sell not content, but the absence of advertising; social networks - priority in the feed or a blue check mark, and even dating apps - the ability to see who liked you. This is almost a full-fledged RPG, only with a wallet upgrade.
So the disturbing question arises: if we agree to such schemes in games, where is the limit? What if this logic completely migrates to education, healthcare, public services? In some countries, this is already happening. Imagine having to "pay" so that a doctor can see your case faster, or so that your child has access to a more effective curriculum. Perhaps you have already watched the first episode of the seventh season of Black Mirror, when you have to buy more and more expensive subscriptions in order for a loved one to survive...
From this perspective, microtransactions no longer seem like an innocent flirtation with the wallets of those with a little extra cash. In a sense, it’s a moral test: will we allow commerce to quietly crowd out honest interaction, fair competition, and basic human dignity? The gaming industry has become the first battleground. But if we don’t set boundaries here, the next one could be far more dangerous.