The Stack

I keep thinking “Tonight, I’m going to pay minimal attention to Factory Idle and resume playing Munch’s Oddysee“, and I keep spending all my gaming time on Factory Idle anyway. It’s just a more interesting game! This is largely because Munch’s Oddysee wears every aspect of its gameplay on its sleeve, while in Factory Idle, I keep discovering non-obvious twists.

The latest revelation came in with bullet makers. These are devices that, in their default state, periodically use 3 steel and 2 explosives to produce 2 bullets. The novel thing about them is that they’re exactly 1 tile in size. Most things are 2×2 or larger, except buyers, which tend to be skinny — 2×1 for a coal buyer, 1×3 for oil. My first thought about the smaller size was that it would be a tremendous convenience, because most of my struggles with the factory layout were about fitting things into small spaces. But a 1×1 building has only four units of edge, which greatly constrains the placement of conveyor belts. In particular, I try to keep my inputs separated, because mixing multiple items on a single belt tends to create clogs whenever production isn’t perfectly balanced. Well, if the steel and the explosives are on different feeds, the inputs and output from a bullet maker use up all but one side. This makes it no less tricky to place than a larger item.

In fact, as I upgrade production, I’m starting to have input/output problems all around. Each belt can only convey one item per tick, so if a building produces items faster than that, it needs multiple output belts to carry it all. This eats into the space you want to use for buildings. One thing I’ve been doing to mitigate this: where possible, criss-cross the belts. Belts can meet at right angles without affecting each other. I had avoided doing this at first, because the result was ugly, and made the flow of items less comprehensible. But now, I see it as a way of getting two beltsworth of conveyance out of a single tile.

The first thing your factories produce in Factory Idle is iron. An iron factory is the simplest sort possible, having only three components: one to buy ore, one to process it into iron, and one to sell it. After sufficient research, you get access to steel, which has two ingredients, which have to be kept in the right ratio for optimal production. The next step in complexity is plastics, followed by electronics. That’s as far as I’ve gotten, but I can already see the next stage in the research menu. It’s called “gun parts”.

I assume that the gun parts can eventually be assembled into guns. Apparently there are rockets and tanks to come later. This is a sudden change in the character of what was previously a game about peaceful industry. Or is it? Possibly this is the point of the whole thing, that this is where industry inevitably leads: to the military-industrial complex. If so, this game is a cousin of Brenda Romero’s Train, aiming to shock the player with the realization of what you’ve been doing all along, and asking if you want to keep on doing it, if your desire to see numbers increase, together with the sunk cost of the time you’ve already spent playing, is strong enough to make you rationalize the fiction.

Alternately, maybe it’s just a matter of the developer thinking “Guns are cool” and not anticipating any negative reactions. And in fact there’s good reason to believe that: the cost of the areas I haven’t opened up yet indicate that there’s a lot of game left after this point, which I wouldn’t expect if I had already seen the whole point of the thing. Games in general are full of guns, after all, so why wouldn’t I expect them here? All I can say to that is that somehow we have this cultural idea that arms manufacturers are more suspect than soldiers, despite being parts of the same system.

Anyway, I really don’t know enough about the developer to interpret intention here. But I will note that Reactor Idle has something of a similar trajectory, starting with nice clean wind turbines and working its way up to thermonuclear reactors. That much is sort of given away by the title, though.

Reading some discussion of Factory Idle online led me to Reactor Idle, an earlier work by the same artist, themed around building power plants. Reactor Idle doesn’t have conveyor belts — its simulation is more about heat transfer and making sure your buildings don’t catch fire. But other than that, the games are strikingly similar in a lot of ways, starting with the look and feel of the UI.

Both games are based around a system of two goal resources, money and research. Money buys buildings and globally upgrades them, while research unlocks new kinds of buildings and upgrades. You need them both, because research gets you to the next tier of money-making and money gets you the buildings that do the research, but there’s no obvious answer to the question of how much you should be spending on upgrading each. Also, both games have a thing going on where very large quantities of money will buy access to new areas, called “plants” in Reactor Idle and “factories” in Factory Idle. It seems at first like these areas might be levels, different disjoint spaces that you complete by getting enough money and proceeding to the next, but it’s more interesting than that. Your money and research pools are independent of which area you’re in, and all areas keep on producing money and research when you leave them. So it’s more like these areas are all just further expansions of a single industrial empire, except for one unexpected twist: Although your research carries over to all areas, your upgrades do not. Each area must be upgraded independently. This is enough of an oddity that I’d suspect a connection between two games that did it even if the connection weren’t already so obvious.

This special rule suggests that different areas can be upgraded differently to pursue different specializations. And indeed, I’ve pursued that quite extensively in Reactor Idle, where I’ve given over the initial island entirely to research, filling every buildable tile with research buildings and upgrading nothing else there. This is a viable approach in that game because research buildings consume nothing but the land they sit on. Factory Idle makes things more complicated. Research buildings there require money to run, and conveyor-belt feeds of factory-produced items to run optimally. Thus, a certain amount of factory production upgrading seems wise even in a research colony. But I’m still doing specialization on other channels: I didn’t bother upgrading steel production at all in my second factory, having already researched the much more lucrative plastics.

Discovering two games of this sort in a short period of time has had one strange effect. As I’ve noted, idling games are best played in the background, as something you can check on periodically while doing something else. And while these two games have a greater than usual amount of non-idling time, they do eventually develop stretches where you’re just waiting for your money or research to reach some threshold. But by playing both of them simultaneously, I can be actively playing one game while waiting on the other. In effect, it eliminates downtime by having multiple channels for action, even though there’s downtime on each of them. It strikes me that this is something that could be exploited even within a single game.

It’s one of those times again when all other gameplay is preempted by something new on the Internet. Factory Idle is an automated factory simulator along the lines of Infinifactory, but it’s presented as an idling game. A closely related genre to clickers, idlers are games where resources automatically increase over time, and the player spends them on upgrades to make them increase faster. Usually they’re very abstract: you click a hyperlink to buy a factory, say, and the number by the word “factories” increases by one, as does the rate at which you produce whatever the product of the factories is. Factory Idle adds a layer of physical constraint between the raw numbers and their effects. You have to place the variously-sized components of your factories onto a grid, with conveyor belts connecting them.

Optimizing the use of rooms with different dimensions is an enjoyable challenge, and one that has to be redone frequently, as upgrades change the optimal proportion of components. For example, when I first built a plastic maker, I had to give it the full output from two oil buyers, two gas buyers, and two coal buyers to get the most use out of it — which you definitely want to do, because the plastic maker costs the same amount of money to run whether it’s producing optimally or not. Then I upgraded the plastic makers so that they were twice as productive, and thus needed twice the number of inputs hooked up to them. So I wiped all my rooms one by one to lay them out differently.

You can spend a lot of time fiddling with your layouts in this game, tweaking them to get just a little more free space that you can jam another component into. And for that reason, I’ve seen the game praised by people who don’t normally like idlers. You don’t have to wait for it! There’s always something to do! (Until there isn’t.) But the same words mean that it kind of fails as an idler. I’ve played other idling games before, and let me tell you, you don’t play them the same way you play other games. Idlers exist to be played while you’re doing something else. You’re at work, or your’e writing a blog post, or something of the sort that requires attention and keeps you sitting in front of a computer, but the mind requires occasional distraction. So you have something you can check on every so often. You can use Twitter or Facebook for this purpose, or you can use a game. And when you’ve checked on your idler, and seen that you can finally afford that one upgrade you’ve been waiting on, and clicked to buy it, you can go back to what you were doing before. Factory Idle is frequently too involved for that. It seems to be slowing down as things get more advanced, as idlers and clickers often do. The moments when I redesign everything aren’t as frequent as they were at the beginning. But at the same time, my factory is a lot larger than it was back then, so each major redesign takes more time and attention, more suited to lunch breaks than microbreaks.