I know this probably won’t be a popular opinion, but I have come to realize that the ability to drop money for others is one of the most heinous abilities available to online modders. Allow me to explain.
(Warning: long post. Inb4 “nice blog”.)
For a long time, the act of dropping money for others had felt, for lack of a better word, icky to me. I felt really guilty for feeling that way. Was it the product of jealousy? I myself never went out of my way to collect hackerbux, so perhaps I just wanted to feel superior? After all, the act seemed to be fundamentally generous, born of nothing but good intentions.
Recently, however, an incident occurred that helped me better articulate my feelings of disgust.
One night, I logged into a particular lobby. As with 99% of lobbies these days, there was a modder present. I caught the tail end of a conversation in which the modder proclaimed to be one of the good ones, that he had no intention to hurt anyone, and that he was glad no one had kicked him since he was “just here to have fun”. Somewhat reassured by that, I decided to stay and go about my business, being careful to avoid the modder’s flying white circle.
Beggar1234: Hey, can I have some money?
Soon after, some random had caught wind of the modder and started begging for money. The modder obliged, arranging for them to meet one another for a joyride. Again, this was not an unusual occurrence, so I tried my best to avoid the white circle, freshly adorned with a “2”, as it flew across the map.
Beggar1234: I hate to be that guy
Beggar1234: but can I have some more money?
You kind of are being that guy, I thought to myself. The beggar seemed otherwise level-headed, judging from his very deliberate use of grammar. Probably not a bad person, as he seemed to keep the modder in check. I felt the old familiar icky feeling welling up again, but I stifled it back down. Just a bit too much brown-nosing for a bit of change, I supposed.
With about 7k to my name, I felt I was running a bit low on pocket money myself, so I decided to hunt for a modded Sentinel XS. For those not in the know, they spawn in the neighborhood around Tinsel Towers between 22:00 and 4:00 and sell for 15k or 17k, depending on the color.
How fortuitous, I thought as I checked the time. 2:00, just on the tail end of the spawning window. After an unusually long time spent searching, I had finally found the 15k variant. I meticulously made my way towards Burton’s LS Customs, taking care not to incur any damages on the vehicle.
However, no more than 100 meters from LSC, I was to be interrupted by the sudden appearance of the white (2). I teleported out of the car, wincing as it careened towards the brick wall. Immediately, I turned on passive mode. As a sign of good will and in hopes it was all a misunderstanding, I made no aggressive gesture towards the modder and the beggar, simply choosing to return to my damaged vehicle.
Wrong move. I was almost immediately teleported from my vehicle again as I gunned it for the LSC door. A fire lit beneath my feet, nullifying the protective properties of passive mode. Being unexperienced with this and naively believing that somehow getting in a car would extinguish the flames, I made a mad dash to the Sentinel, now 5 meters away from LSC. I died before I could even finish closing the door. From where I respawned, a dull boom echoed in the distance. I pulled up my phone to check the time. It was 3:52.
Beggar1234: that was brutal
Beggar1234: but I can respect that
You can respect that? Were you so eager to fellate the modder for money that you lost your dignity, your compassion? You just witnessed your modder buddy brutalize an innocent just trying to get by on her own diligence. How can you call yourself a man if you “respect that”?
Before I said anything to the effect, I decided to just log off for the day. The modder would probably have taken away my ammo and considered it justice. Or given me money and considered it justice. Either outcome I wanted to avoid.
I realized then that my feelings of disgust were not for the act itself, but for the effect it has on the people receiving the money. Many times, I had caught myself feeling sorry for the players running around picking up trails of money bags. It was as if they were puppets made to dance on the modder’s strings. I chastised myself then, that they were innocently accepting gifts, and that I was just looking for an excuse to feel superior. But as it turns out, it’s not too far from the actual truth.
To wit, spawning money is an exploitative power that causes otherwise good people to grovel and justify harmful behavior. Modders are trading the risk of a ban for power over their peers, like a tyrant purchasing votes. They have free reign over the lobby, so long as an army of money-hungry yes-men are there to support them. It is not a selfless gift at all, far from it.
This was made none more clear to me than in a lobby I joined a few days later. There were two “good” modders, both innocently wanting to make fun for the lobby. One had spawned a flying bus and wanted to gather participants for an adventure. Half the fun of GTA Online is getting into unusual situations and this modder seemed to be a trustworthy fellow, so I had no reservations on joining the party bus. However, we could never gather enough passengers to take off because the second modder kept spawning money, causing the passengers to constantly bail in order to collect it. The second modder was blissfully unaware that he was causing harm, and any attempts to curb his money spawning were met with resistance from the crowd of randoms.
TLDR: Spawning money manipulates others into justifying a modder’s behavior, no matter how harmful it may be, and whether or not the modder is conscious of it.