Some of the execs at Volkswagen must like Gacha games—so much so that, , you now have to “subscribe” to get your car’s full horsepower output with one [[link]] of its new models.
VW’s proposition is this: buy a new ID.3—the brand’s “entry level” (I remember when that used to mean <£20,000, not over £30k) electric hatchback—in some of the mid-level trims, and you get a somewhat piddling 201 horsepower. But if you’re feeling frisky, you can tack on a £16.50/mo subscription, or a one-time £649 fee, to break the paywall and unleash an extra 27hp. Sound familiar? Even to a novice gamer, this [[link]] business model is probably old hat.
BMW gained particular infamy for locking and (seriously, you can’t make this up) behind a paywall. Luckily, consumers reacted so poorly that the company reversed course on both. But as any survival game expert will tell you, the horde of zombies outside your shelter don’t go away just because they failed to break down your door the first time.
I play 98% of my PC games on Steam—including some pretty darn old releases. But recently I’ve been wondering, what happens if/when Valve goes under, or computer hardware advances to a point where my previous purchases are no longer compatible, or my library loses support in some other way? I bought my games on Steam, but do I really own them? When cars debut in early access, with paywall-locked features and live-service models, what happens when your trusty jalopy bricks while driving down the road? Oh wait; .