Who needs a Second Life?
Go to a gig, attend lectures, have sex… Jenny O’Mahony explores a new virtual world.
Computer games and I have always had a complicated relationship. My torrid pre-pubescent affair with Crash Bandicoot gave way to a more steady coupling with The Sims, but now we see each other rarely, reduced to snatching quick moments together on wet afternoons. We are separated partly by fate, and partly by my acquisition of a life. Because of this compulsive-addictive tendency, it was with some trepidation that I entered the virtual world du jour, Second Life.
Second Life has existed since 2003, when the sinister sounding company Linden Lab decided that office workers and students were probably not wasting enough time, and decided to allow them to live, communicate, own property and have sex within a Web 2.0 platform - all while creating new outfits for themselves.
What is interesting about this unashamedly geeky premise is its mainstream success: there are close to 1 million members, and one woman, Anshe Chung, has netted more than $1 million from her entirely imaginary property empire using the program. Although Second Lifers use Linden Dollars, these can be exchanged for proper money. Brands as diverse as Adidas, Trinity College Dublin and the nation of Switzerland have all cashed in, with the Swiss Embassy just one of many diplomatic outposts your avatar can visit.
The experience of Second Life is very much based around how you would like to be seen and interpreted. One of the very first decisions you make is your appearance, and the sheer number of combinations, from body fur to the alignment of your chin can all be dabbled with. This being the internet, the emphasis on appearance has much to do with the cybersex that the American teenagers, who make up, one imagines, a fair amount of the membership, hope to engage in. The combination of capitalism and sexual frustration which has long characterised the USA is epitomised here by the fact that genitals will cost you extra in this game.
After selecting my first name as Edina, after Jennifer Saunders’s paean to the superficial in Ab Fab, I scroll through the bizarre list of surnames, and opt for Ibanez, ending up resembling some sort of Egyptian Secret Agent. I then proceed to explore. It was at that point that I realised perhaps it was not all about sex and money. Virtual universities offer virtual online courses. Virtual gigs showcase unsigned bands. Second Life suffers from terrorist attacks and isn’t even safe from the 2008 US Presidential election, as candidates hold rallies after teleporting in from another world. In many ways Second Life could be seen as extending the kind of grassroots culture the internet has resurrected on behalf of amateur musicians, writers and the like.
I came for the amazing technology, but I’ve stayed for the cool people
However, I found the game difficult to take seriously. The temptation was either to flirt outrageously with the first person you came across, just to see if they would karate chop or wink at you. The tiresome fanatics, who wander around the fields of Second Life dressed like members of the Medieval Re-enactment Society exist in large numbers. The men who would find it funny to run around naked in real life seem to find it just as hilarious when they can replace their paunches with washboard stomachs and their own genitalia with, well, bought genitalia. In other words, the irritants of daily life simply transfer their presence into your virtual existence, leaving you wondering what happened to utopia.
Luckily for Linden Lab, people with more patience than myself find Second Life a great comfort. Insecurities about bodies, academic grades, accent, class and specialist sexual preference (that again) melt away. You can live out any fantasy you like, and no one will be any the wiser. Vito Desoto, who built his own gay hangout, named Fire Island, indicates some of the positive aspects of being a Second Lifer: “Originally, I came for the amazing technology, but I’ve stayed for the cool people. I created Fire Island as a non-commercial place where I would not get hit on or harassed.”
Creative entrepeneurs like Desoto are highly respected in Second Life, and its creators have began to turn a profit. The man behind the idea, Philip Rosedale, thinks that virtual worlds are fundamentally changing the way humans interact, and he sees this as just the beginning: “What was once a novel concept is now ubiquitous not only for companies, but for individuals, as well.”
Second Life works because people are prepared to spend large amounts of time and, crucially, money on the network. It has the combination of being user-friendly and just a bit addictive, a combination which has made millions for internet wonderkids like Facebook’s 23 year old creator, Mark Zuckerberg. Even if the premise seems like a complete waste of time, the truth is that people will always love pointless distraction, and, for most, Second Life provides light relief in the guise of being something more serious. If the interest of the public and capabilities of Second Life continue to expand, so will the artful procrastination of the majority of its users. The future for Second Life looks decidedly rosy.
