CCP, Wake Up — You Can’t Sell a Sinking Ship
I’ve been playing EVE Online since 2008. That’s over 17 years of my life poured into this universe—not just grinding missions or building ships, but becoming part of something that felt bigger than a game. I remember when PLEX cost 386 million ISK for a month’s game time. I remember belt ratting in null-sec, warping from belt to belt, popping battleships and leaving the frigates behind. I remember when you could steal from jettisoned cargo without getting suspect flags, back when ninja salvaging was a whole playstyle before CCP overhauled the crime system. I was there when Goons bought up Jita after their leader got banned for out-of-game behavior.
EVE was never just another MMO for me. It was this incredible living organism where player actions actually mattered, where politics and economics felt real, where you could spend months planning something that would reshape entire regions. Watching what CCP is doing now just breaks my heart.
EVE Frontier: Missing the Point Entirely
Look, I tried Frontier. Really tried. Spent about fifteen minutes with it before I realized this wasn’t made for players like me. It’s not the graphics or bugs that bothered me—it’s that the whole thing feels soulless. Like someone took a checklist of trendy gaming mechanics (blockchain! survival! physics!) and mashed them together without understanding what made EVE special in the first place.
The resource grinding feels tedious. The crystal gating is annoying. The whole thing screams “we’re chasing the latest trend” instead of “we’re building on 20 years of player stories.” And they want me to pay $30-40 a month for this? After I’ve already invested nearly two decades in their other game? Back when PLEX was under 400 million, that felt reasonable. Now they want premium pricing for a disconnected experience that ignores everything that made EVE work.
It’s like CCP forgot that their strength was never flashy mechanics—it was creating a space where emergent gameplay could flourish.
Where This Is All Heading
I hate being the doom-and-gloom guy, but I’ve seen this pattern before in other games:
Next year or two, Frontier launches to mixed reviews. The blockchain angle doesn’t catch fire like they hoped. Players try it, get bored, leave. CCP starts frantically patching things that should have been designed properly from the start.
Meanwhile, EVE Online gets less attention. Fewer updates, smaller teams. Those of us who’ve been around forever start getting frustrated. The community that took decades to build starts fragmenting.
Eventually Frontier either becomes this tiny niche thing or just gets quietly shut down. CCP tries to win back the EVE playerbase, but by then trust is shot.
Without some serious soul-searching about what they’re actually good at, CCP becomes another studio that had something amazing and threw it away chasing quick money.
What They’re Missing
Here’s the thing—EVE worked because it respected us. It trusted players to create their own content, their own drama, their own meaning. It gave us tools and got out of the way. The best EVE stories aren’t about game mechanics; they’re about human beings doing incredible, terrible, beautiful things to each other in a virtual universe that felt consequential.
Frontier doesn’t have that. It’s just another survival game with cryptocurrency sprinkled on top.
I’m not even angry at this point. I’m just sad. I know what EVE Online could still become with the right focus and investment. Instead, I’m watching CCP chase trends that’ll be forgotten in two years while the thing that made them special slowly withers.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Frontier will surprise everyone. But right now, it feels like watching someone sell their childhood home to buy lottery tickets.