The Creeping Threat
Of all of the game types that I have played, none provides an experience that changes as much over time as a collectible card game. Some video games and even a few board games undergo expansions and updates, but in general a single purchase allows one to experience all or most of the content of the game. A collectible card game, on the other hand, has an ever-changing game experience, with a constantly growing collection granting players the ability to build better and more interesting decks.
Unfortunately, they don't always work that way.
In an effort to sell new sets of cards, companies that manufacture collectible card games will sometimes intentionally place more powerful cards in newer sets than existed in previous ones. In the short term, this makes good business sense; it forces players to buy the latest packs to get cards good enough to beat their friends or win tournaments. Unfortunately, as we shall soon see, it can be massively detrimental to profits and player enjoyment in the long term (of course, as the Lorax tells us, it is rare for companies to care about the long term).
The worst offender (that I am aware of, at least) of power creep in the world of collectible card games is Yu-Gi-Oh. This is a game that many of you may remember from your childhoods, and one which I played avidly until around 3 or 4 years ago. It also has examples of power creep that date back to the earliest days of the game. Take, for example, the very early card Emperor of the Land and Sea, first printed in 1998.
For those of you not familiar with Yu-Gi-Oh's mechanics, the number of stars at the top represent (in layman's terms) how costly the card is to play, while the top number represents the attack power and the bottom number the defense power of the card. As well, note that it has no special abilities; it is just a monster with 1800 attack power and 1500 defense power. A card of this power for this cost would not have been uncommon in the early days of Yu-Gi-Oh.
Let us contrast it with a card released some years later in 2004, Dark Blade.
Note that its attack power (labeled here by ATK) and defense power (labeled here by DEF) are exactly the same as the previous card. Note, as well, how there is no effect printed on the card. However, notice how there is one important difference between this card and the previous: it has one fewer star. This difference is critical in Yu-Gi-Oh; a card with 5 stars requires a monster to be sacrificed to play it, while one with 4 stars can be played for free. This means that Dark Blade is objectively better than Emperor of the Land and Sea. A player can get the same benefit for a lesser cost. This means that, once Dark Blade was released, every single Emperor of the Land and Sea became worthless, except for set completionists.
This process was repeated, card by card, for almost every card that has ever been released, except for the most recent few sets. Name an old card, and it's easy to find a newer card that is objectively superior. Even for those cards where no such example exists, the introduction of new, incredibly powerful mechanics has made them useless. These two effects combined mean that old cards are never relevant. The collections of the collectible card game were rendered worthless with each new set. This meant that the game was no longer fair or fun for returning old players, driving veterans out of the game.
I mentioned earlier in this post that you may remember Yu-Gi-Oh from your childhood. The reason why you only remember it from years past, and that there is no older community of players, is not solely because of mechanics but rather because of the poor, short-sighted decisions that lead to power creep. These unfortunate design choices lead to the effective death of a game that could have been great.
Unfortunately, they don't always work that way.
In an effort to sell new sets of cards, companies that manufacture collectible card games will sometimes intentionally place more powerful cards in newer sets than existed in previous ones. In the short term, this makes good business sense; it forces players to buy the latest packs to get cards good enough to beat their friends or win tournaments. Unfortunately, as we shall soon see, it can be massively detrimental to profits and player enjoyment in the long term (of course, as the Lorax tells us, it is rare for companies to care about the long term).
The worst offender (that I am aware of, at least) of power creep in the world of collectible card games is Yu-Gi-Oh. This is a game that many of you may remember from your childhoods, and one which I played avidly until around 3 or 4 years ago. It also has examples of power creep that date back to the earliest days of the game. Take, for example, the very early card Emperor of the Land and Sea, first printed in 1998.
For those of you not familiar with Yu-Gi-Oh's mechanics, the number of stars at the top represent (in layman's terms) how costly the card is to play, while the top number represents the attack power and the bottom number the defense power of the card. As well, note that it has no special abilities; it is just a monster with 1800 attack power and 1500 defense power. A card of this power for this cost would not have been uncommon in the early days of Yu-Gi-Oh.
Let us contrast it with a card released some years later in 2004, Dark Blade.
Note that its attack power (labeled here by ATK) and defense power (labeled here by DEF) are exactly the same as the previous card. Note, as well, how there is no effect printed on the card. However, notice how there is one important difference between this card and the previous: it has one fewer star. This difference is critical in Yu-Gi-Oh; a card with 5 stars requires a monster to be sacrificed to play it, while one with 4 stars can be played for free. This means that Dark Blade is objectively better than Emperor of the Land and Sea. A player can get the same benefit for a lesser cost. This means that, once Dark Blade was released, every single Emperor of the Land and Sea became worthless, except for set completionists.
This process was repeated, card by card, for almost every card that has ever been released, except for the most recent few sets. Name an old card, and it's easy to find a newer card that is objectively superior. Even for those cards where no such example exists, the introduction of new, incredibly powerful mechanics has made them useless. These two effects combined mean that old cards are never relevant. The collections of the collectible card game were rendered worthless with each new set. This meant that the game was no longer fair or fun for returning old players, driving veterans out of the game.
I mentioned earlier in this post that you may remember Yu-Gi-Oh from your childhood. The reason why you only remember it from years past, and that there is no older community of players, is not solely because of mechanics but rather because of the poor, short-sighted decisions that lead to power creep. These unfortunate design choices lead to the effective death of a game that could have been great.


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