avid goes on to explain how his sentence was the maximum he could’ve received, due to his previous convictions. I ask David why I, as a player of games, might find stealing enjoyable if the act takes place in virtual reality, even though I have no desire, consciously at least, to steal in the real world.
“Well I know next to nothing about computer games,” he admits. “But my grandson is mad for that one that looks like it’s from the 80s. Minecraft, is it? Let me put it this way—you said before that you’d never stolen before, but you said there just now about games that allow you to steal?”
I nod.
“So you have stolen—at least in these games. Let me ask you then, why did you do it in one of your games? Because the game asked you to? Because it felt good? It’s the same thing, as far as I’m concerned. The only difference is the real police have more concern catching up with people like me [laughs].”
“What I’m trying to say is that everyone would steal if they thought they could get away with it—just look at the rich and famous [people] who blag things. They’ve got enough money to buy things twice. As I say, I don’t really get computers, my phone is hard enough to work, but I suppose I could see how you could enjoy acting out crimes knowing there’s no real police to face up to.”
When I consider the amount of things I’ve swiped in digital spaces, I wonder if there’s any truth in what David suggests. Again, consciously, I have no desire to steal anything in the real world, but is that to do with social convention and rules and empathy? If I thought there were no repercussions, would I snatch a shovel from my local store? Am I a digital kleptomaniac?
David rightly points out that there are no real police officers chasing us down in our virtual playgrounds—but there are definitely angry shopkeepers. Lots and lots of angry shopkeepers.