Many online games have taken to launching holiday events as a way to draw players to a certain area, participate in temporary content, and provide more track for the almighty achievement treadmill (all glory to the treadmill). These seasonal activities are a novel way of encouraging increased in-game traffic by integrating the real world into the game world, especially considering those games in which more exposure means increased revenue through microtransactions. Exposure + gift giving holidays = $$$. The idea of adding more content for players to consume is always at the front of a MMO designer’s mind, and the idea of adding more profitable knick-knacks and time sinks is always at the front of the businessman’s. So, holidays are something of a convergence point for those behind the scenes.
From where I stand—that is, as an admitted idealist nutjob—most holiday events we see right now fail to drive games towards what should be one of their core goals: immersion. The seasonal/holiday event concept has earned its place both through force of habit as well as demonstrating legitimate value, that much I will agree. Making sure that players spend their time off work or school playing your game during real world holidays is smart business. The main issue I have is that this concept often pushes the fourth wall or breaks it entirely. Sometimes you’ll encounter something actually called a Christmas event, while other games might present something like Winter Veil or Frostfell (hint: they’re Christmas with candy cane swords). It can be a real bummer when you play in a sci-fi world and see a starport blanketed in tacky Griswold-esque lights, an epic fantasy world with cupid goblins flying around, or a steampunk world with clockwork turkeys clucking up your day. You’ve spent a significant amount of time in-game learning about unique cultures and traversing alien landscapes, only to see your own stubborn world invading your second life. Not ideal.
An argument some maintain in favor of real world or derivative holiday events is that they are very likely to engage players on the couple days they may have free from their normal obligations, meaning high exposure and engagement. But think about how long most of these events are kept on servers; we’re talking one to two weeks on average. A design team doesn’t create a cluster of content to exist for a single day, and for good reason. If a team is going to dedicate time to making content, they’re going to make sure that as many eyes as possible will see it. In many cases, traces of the event are found just about everywhere. If this isn’t the case, then designers will employ methods to pull the players to the event. No matter what the location, though, the constant is that the event isn’t going to be around for a day and then be retired for a year. It’s of little consequence when the event takes place if lasts long enough for people to see it and they know where they can experience it. The “seasonal events must fall on real world holidays” mindset should be tossed and designers should feel empowered to be more flexible with this type of content.
BioWare took a hard stance against real world holidays (and even pop culture) invading Star Wars: The Old Republic. To their credit, they are working with a setting rich in its own history and it would be jarring to see a jolly ol’ hutt passing out shiny, new carbine rifles to the good little cartel boys and girls. Excluding real world holidays is the right decision, to me, but there is value in producing original seasonal events, which TOR seems to be mostly ignoring thus far. By considering what types of holidays the cultures of your game world celebrate and then including your players in the festivities, you create a unique opportunity to immerse them further in the setting’s narrative. The key is in making the event fun, rewarding, and memorable. Offer unique items, create annual quest-lines, and highlight the layers of your worldbuilding. Don’t throw away the opportunity of creating recurring content by violating the theme and lore of your world. If executed well, players would know when to expect the events each year and traditions would form around the cycle. Rather than the real world seeping into the game world, one might see that process in reverse. In this context, success is defined by players feeling like natives rather than visitors.