Thursday, November 30, 2023

About Those Monopoly Ads...

 

A somewhat off-topic comment on a post on Ethics Alarms got me thinking about Monopoly, and indeed about the two recent commercials I’ve seen for the board game. 

It’s now well-established that the game was actually invented by a leftist stenographer named Elizabeth “Lizzie” Magie.  Her idea, for a game called the Landlord’s Game, was originally intended to have two sets of rules: one in which everyone was rewarded if wealth was created, and a monopolistic version, in which players seek to accumulate all the wealth by crushing all the opponents.

Were Curmie of a cynical disposition (perish the thought!), he might suggest that the former represents the “rising tide lifts all boats” rhetoric of the predatory capitalists at the top of the economic food chain, and the latter represents their actual practice.  Magie wrote that the game “might well have been called the ‘Game of Life,’ as it contains all the elements of success and failure in the real world, and the object is the same as the human race in general seem to have, i.e., the accumulation of wealth.” 

The latter version of the game, the one we now recognize as Monopoly, although patented, was essentially stolen by a scoundrel named Charles Darrow, who made minor changes and sold the idea to Parker Brothers, making millions.  In turn, they simultaneously pretended that the game was Darrow’s invention and also bought the rights to Magie’s game for an absurdly low price.

In other words, the history of the game mirrors the game itself: it is a story of greed, shrewdness, and opportunism supplanting ethical behavior as a guiding principle.  Oh, and don’t forget luck.  It’s better to be lucky than good… in Monopoly and in life.  There are advantages to having a skillset in both, but it sure is easier IRL to have Daddy give you a few million dollars to start your business or in Monopoly to land on Boardwalk when it’s for sale rather than when someone else has a hotel there.

Interestingly, the reverse of this latter phenomenon happens if you go to jail.  It’s a disadvantage early because you can’t buy anything, but late in the game staying in jail means you’re not landing on someone else’s hotel-bearing property.  (One is tempted to note that a certain IRL late-in-the-game real estate mogul currently facing the possibility of jail time might actually benefit politically from incarceration by claiming to have been unjustly tried and convicted.)

It strikes me that, contrary to the arguments made by others on that Ethics Alarms thread, Monopoly stands alone (or at least virtually so—Curmie doesn’t claim to know all the other possibilities) as a game.  It is, in some ways, not about winning, but about your opponents losing.  It’s certainly not about the mutual benefit of all the competitors, as the other set of Lizzie Magie’s rules would have it. 

Even Life, the other board game from Curmie’s youth to involve “money” rather than points, usually ends with winners who have more money than their opponents, not all the money.  Yes, there’s a chance of winning at the end by literally going for broke (and heading to the poorhouse 90% of the time), but that just adds a little late-game interest to a game that is almost exclusively decided by luck.  No one suggests that the winner employed any particular skill, as there’s only one choice: go to college or don’t.

Let Curmie respond to comments by EA readers: Baseball games involve only two teams at a time, and despite the occasional shutout generally end with scores of 3-1 or 7-2 or whatever: not all the runs on one side.  And whereas there is an element of luck—the line drive right at the 2nd baseman, the bloop double, the blast that fades foul or stays fair by inches, and so on—the ratio of skill to luck is significantly higher there than in Monopoly.  Poker lasts as long as it lasts, except in high-stakes tournaments.  There’s not a sense of an unfinished competition if the game ends at midnight or after 20 hands or whatever.  It doesn’t require all the chips to be in a single player’s possession to call it a night.  Sure, games like Risk involve the annihilation of the opposition (and strategy often involving deceit), but they’re not being marketed to primary school kids. 

For all its heritage as a critique of the landlord class, Monopoly has come to be regarded as a paean to capitalism, just as Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” has somehow been transformed in the public imagination to a patriotic anthem to be blared over the speakers to the accompaniment of 4th of July fireworks.  It’s pretty clear that Lizzie Magie knew that kind of transformation might happen: a society smitten with financial wealth will envy the “haves,” and will jump at the chance to live that life even if only in a fictive world.

So… about those ads…  Curmie has seen two of them for the standard game (there are far too many variations on the theme than Curmie wants to contemplate).  The first, known as “8-Year Old Landlord,” shows, as the title suggests, a little girl in Leona Helmsley drag.  She’s owner of Park Place Apartments; we see her firing the janitor (her father), raising rents on her brother and the family dog, and issuing her pregnant mom a final notice before eviction.  The tag is “It’s all in the name of the game.  All is fair in Monopoly.”  Curmie supposes the ad is cute in a creepy sort of way, but it certainly condones if not encourages behavior we’d find objectionable in real life: the sort of legal but acquisitive and narcissistic impulses many renters see in their landlords.  Still, that focused amorality is a strategy for winning at Monopoly.  Can’t complain too much.

The other commercial, however, is far more problematic.  The title character and narrator of “Grand Theft Nai Nai” (“nai nai” is Chinese for “grandmother”) tells us that being 75 has its perks, notably that “People just trust you.  Blindly.”  In her capacity as a bank teller she steals a huge amount of money from customers and/or the bank itself, stuffing wads of bills into her clothing, even into her shoes.  We then cut to a shot of her doing the same thing with Monopoly money as she gloats about her wealth.  It may be that it’s her own money she’s stuffing up her sleeve in the image above, but then the parallelism is fractured.  The context certainly suggests that she’s taking money from the game’s bank, just as she did from the real-life bank for which she works.  Again, the tag is “All is fair in Monopoly.”

Except that it isn’t.  The young landlady of Park Place Apartments may be unfeeling and rapacious, but what she does is legal (well, the rationale for raising the brother’s rent may not be, but it goes by so fast that virtually no one will notice).  The old lady in the other ad is engaged in actual theft.  That’s against the rules in real life, and guess what, Gentle Reader?  It’s against the rules in Monopoly, too!  All is not fair in Monopoly; this isn’t Calvinball, where the rules are made up as the game progresses. 

Does this ad really encourage cheating?  Well, actually, yes.  The other commercial may demonstrate how to win at Monopoly; this one shows how to get arrested in real life, or at least how to deserve to be.  That’s not a good look, even for a game that has for years de facto conflated success and wealth.  Metaphoric, legal, stealing—tax breaks on yachts and private jets, huge “loans” that miraculously don’t need to be repaid, that sort of thing—is one thing.  Literal theft is another.  Hasbro (which acquired Parker Brothers and therefore Monopoly in 1991) needs to ditch the ad, no matter how cute they think it is.

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