Always use protection. Whether you're making a PC game or the monster with two backs, it's a wise creed. For gamers, however, 'protection' presents images of convoluted codes, online subscriptions and idiotic orders to restart your PC before the game can begin. At worse, protection is a short cut to digital STDs: malware, spyware, and more blue-screening than an XXX shop in Soho.
Is copy protection in PC games for the greater good of mankind, or is it akin to carrying a TV aerial around a park during a thunderstorm? Game creators are clear where they stand.
"I've always liked the idea of creative, nasty, deliberately destructive copy protection," smirks Jon Hare, designer behind the fabled Sensible Soccer franchise. "For example, injecting disabling viruses into pirate's machines, slow degradation of pirated games so they're unplayable after some time, or disabling the ability to save progress in the game if the copy is pirated."
These days, the games industry is all a fluster about digital thievery. Understandably so. Where once pirates stole from kings, they're now more likely to announce: "Arrrr, I just plundered 20 copies of Miss Congeniality 2." Hardly the toughest kids on the block, then, and when their antics start to effect our own enjoyment of games, it's probably time to start making them walk the plank. But what happens when copy protection starts causing problems for legit gamers?
MONKEY DO
There was a time when life was far more simple, says Ron Gilbert, creator of LucasArts classics like The Secret Of Monkey Island. "Back in the olden days, we didn't have high-tech copy protection solutions, so we had to resort to low-tech ideas.
Because the copy protection wasn't hidden - as it is today - it gave us the chance to be a little creative." Creative and fun. Ye olde PC games politely asked you to refer to the manual in order to prove your credentials. In Frontier: Elite II, sci-fi cops asked the player to: "Please enter the first letter of word X, row Y on page Z." An incorrect entry booted the player out, but at least it played an integral part of the game.
Manuals were like Bibles in those days. King's Quest III demanded spell recipes, Conquests Of Camelot looked for answers to riddles, while Leisure Suit Larry asked you to seek out ladies' numbers.
Gilbert continues: "In Maniac Mansion, there's a security door that leads to the second floor of the mansion and it requires a code. The player looked up the code in a small book that accompanied the game. The book was themed like a real security codebook. If you got the code wrong, it triggered an alarm and the nuclear reactor started to melt down. If you didn't get it right after a few minutes, the mansion would blow up and the game would be over."
Gilbert's invention worked a treat - even if you didn't have the codebook, you could still play a quarter of the game, so it functioned perfectly as a demo. The Secret Of Monkey Island sold with a cardboard rotating pirate wheel that revealed numbers when spun, which in turn validated the player. "It's hard to imagine these systems working today. If you created Monkey Island's code wheel, someone would build a Flash version and put it online within ten minutes of the game's release," says Gilbert.
LOCK DOWN?
Not all early copy protection was so lovable. Copy protection mechanism Lenslok was meant to reveal codes displayed on the monitor, but on some screens this fancy piece of plastic just revealed an abstract mush. Regardless, peripheral protection didn't last long - a few years later, PC games began demanding registration keys. "I guess copy protection was so abused in the past that a lot of the big-hitting companies decided to toughen up and others followed suit," says Jon Hare. "I'm sure EA wouldn't be as casual about a 90% piracy rate as we used to be. And who can blame them?"
Games now employ Fort Knox-levels of security. SafeDisc, which provides basic copy protection for games like Battlefield 2, now features an advanced software development kit. Dan Gamble, SafeDisc PR, explains: "The game code becomes aware of a copy and changes its behaviour. Imagine a copied game that allows you to get to level three, but then removes the exit door to level four. Or a copied game that decides that you can never replenish your character's energy - or one that would remove all the best weapons from use..."
Bloody annoying, but a wet raspberry in the face of pirates who thought they'd got away with it. However, other modern forms of copy protection are massive bones of contention. Take StarForce, security software behind games like LMA Manager 2007. StarForce drivers have been accused of causing system instability, computer crashes and probably the war in Iraq too. Does StarForce's trail of lawsuit complaints and furious gamers suggest that the Eye of Sauron is on copy protection providers?
FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE
Dmitry Guseff, PR manager in StarForce's Moscow base, argues not. "Lots of programs run on computers (at the same time), and many of them may interact with protection, like optical drive emulators or optical disc burning programs. StarForce achieved Microsoft Certified Partner Level and also became Intel Software Partner. Our products also smoothly passed Windows Vista 32/64-bit compatibility testing programs. Bottom line, we're just like any other well-reputed software protection company and as such consider these allegations false."
In the face of controversy, and in an effort to seek new ways to protect their products, some games publishers are forgoing draconian copy protection in favour of luring legit customers with free updates. Meanwhile, content delivery systems like Steam have been successful in reducing piracy, although they're not without criticism - one dodgy server or a botched code is all it takes to ruin your jollies.
Short of shop owners threatening you with a shotgun at point of purchase, copy protection isn't going away any time soon. These days, it's just another necessary evil, reckons Ron Gilbert.
"My view of copy protection in games (and music and movies) is that it should be there as a subtle reminder that, 'Hey! Don't give this away! Someone worked hard on it and needs to feed their family'. However, it should be breakable so I can use the game/movie/music the way I need to. I see it much like a lock on a front door. It isn't keeping anyone out of the house if they really want to get in, but it's a reminder that if you don't live here, you're not welcome."
Source -
http://www.computerandvideogames.com/article.php?id=170353
Makes quite interesting reading.
