Department of Communication & Journalism, University of New Mexico

Paper presented at the Western Speech Communication Association Conference,
Denver, Colorado, February 1998.

Copyright © 1998 All rights reserved by the Author.

A growing number of individuals inhabiting cyberspace experiment with gender swapping, disinhibition, and role-playing a romanticized version of the self. This qualitative study describes how a computer-generated virtual world such as a multi-user dimension, object-oriented (MOO) encourages participants to explore identity construction through their communication choices. MOOs are text-based virtual realities in which participants may individually explore the MOO universe, build and manipulate objects, or interact socially with other persons. In this study, I argue that while MOOers engage in meaningful relationships in order to build community, many MOOers also attempt to develop their on-screen identities into powerful, and popular entities.

Reagan is my character, or virtual avatar, who resides in an online multi-user dimension I’ll call CampusMOO. She is, in some respects, the alter ego I present in an environment in which I can appear to be anyone I wish. For instance, one of Reagan’s aliases is Rex--for those times when I want to present myself as a male character. Whenever I feel myself stretching the conventional boundaries of my real life (RL) identity, I remind myself that I am not alone on this journey.

Human beings are naturally curious about each other. Who among us wouldn’t like to experience what it means to be male, or female, have complete power over one’s presented identity, or live another life, without actually having to take significant risks with potentially damaging consequences? The notion is provocative, but not unrealistic. For example, individuals who participate in online communities are afforded the rare opportunity to experience these phenomena in a semi-controlled environment. Cyberspace can be a prosocial environment that encourages friendships, intimate relationships, and partnerships as a result of pseudo-anonymous computer mediated communication. In addition, a growing number of individuals who inhabit cyberspace experiment with gender swapping, disinhibition, and role-playing a romanticized version of the self. The present study describes how a computer-generated virtual world such as a multi-user dimension, object-oriented (MOO) allows players to explore identity construction through their communication choices and vie for power to position the self as a contributing member of an online community.

Cushman and Cahn (1985) describe the self-concept as a construct that is negotiated, or co-created in interaction with others. In this sense, self-concepts are not determined by who others think we are, but rather by how the presentation of the self is co-constructed and maintained by both parties in interaction. This notion of self-concept and its relationship to communication is particularly useful in describing online identity. For example, in the absence of physical markers such as biological sex, race, physiological and involuntary nonverbal reactions, and other general state characteristics, the individual has an extraordinary degree of control in presenting any self s/he desires. The possibility of increased locus of control with regard to presenting oneself online creates the need for scholars to revisit the function of communication in cyberspace. For many participants of electronic communities, communicating becomes a heightened, directed, goal oriented activity--instead of a cursory, everyday activity which may involve unconsciously reacting to another’s utterances. Inhabitants of multi-user dimensions use text as the primary vehicle to co-create and negotiate meaning, construct multiple selves through interaction, possess a more centralized locus of control in presenting the self, or vie for power in speech events.

MOOs (multi-user dimensions, object-oriented) are realtime, text-based, virtual worlds in which players manipulate their surroundings and communicate with each other to create a role-playing environment together. Multi-user dimensions usually fall into two categories: (1) combat or adventure-style role-playing games (MUDs), and (2) social role-playing communities (TinyMUDs or MOOs). MUDs and MOOs are UNIX-type, network-accessible, programmable, interactive systems written in the C programming language that are suitable for the construction of text-based games (adventure or social), conferencing systems, and other collaborative software (Blankenship, 1993; Curtis, 1996a). In other words, a MOO is actually a programming language system that is left continuously running on a server. Most MOOs are centralized¾ the database is usually contained in one computer. Participants connect to the MOO server using Telnet or any number of client programs available.

MOO programming code, in particular, mimics the UNIX operating system by using an object-oriented data structure. That is, every person, place, or thing in the MOO is a programmable object, has a corresponding object number, and may be "physically" manipulated. For example, I may be in a room of CampusMOO and want to sit in a chair. By typing the verb "sit" I may generate a subroutine of code which outputs the following message on my screen, "Elaine slips into the sleek, black leather couch and puts her feet up." One of the most distinguishing elements of the MOO is that the coding language is "designed to be written from within the MOO itself. . . users create the objects and write code while inhabiting both; in MOOs users literally build themselves and their surroundings" (Kelley, 1994, p. 3). That is, players contribute to the MOO world by writing subroutines (building rooms, objects, and characters) that create the spatial and social architecture of the MOO.

The first large-scale MOO was developed by Pavel Curtis at Xerox Palo Alto Research Center from a prototype written by Stephen White at the University of Waterloo (Blankenship, 1993). Curtis was intrigued with the MOO programming language, and hacked with it in his spare time while at Xerox PARC. LambdaMOO (named after one of Curtis’ characters, Lambda) is known throughout the MOO community as the "mother of all MOOs" and has been running since 1990 (Curtis, 1992). Today there are hundreds of MOOs, although the LambdaMOO community is by far the largest-- numbering close to 10,000 inhabitants.

The LambdaMOO hierarchy in descending order is: wizard, programmer, builder, character, and guest. Wizards are the most experienced and knowledgeable programmers who keep the MOO running by troubleshooting technical problems that may arise with the server or the MOO code. Wizards are, quite literally, all knowing and all seeing. A Wizard has programming access to the entire MOO, its logs of the interactions, and character passwords. Programmers and builders may create a number of rooms and other objects, while characters are allowed to create only a few objects until they demonstrate their programming prowess. Guests are not granted programming privileges outside of being able to describe their avatar and set its gender. The MOO hierarchy is based on skill level--players who develop skills the MOO community can use, are rewarded with increased power, responsibility, and privilege. Clearly players are not required to develop programming skills, but most do nonetheless. Bruckman, (1992, p. 7) asserts "the drive to become a wizard is part of a desire to achieve mastery. Mastery over the game confers status within the community."

A MOO is an open-ended role-play environment, similar in many ways to real life, in which players construct their own rules and pursue narrative possibilities they create together through communication with each other, and the shared meaning assigned to the programmed and virtual objects in the MOO (Kolko, 1996). In a MOO, "it is literally true that ‘reality’ is created through language, both by the actions of the players and through the code used by the programmers" (Carlstrom, 1992; p. 1). Therefore, a MOO community is organically generated through the creation of textual artifacts, co-construction of narrative play, open-ended communication outcomes, and by transcending the subtle "rules" of play.

A MOO universe is usually constructed around the metaphor of physical space to resemble familiar representations of community such as a city, street, university, ancient civilization, starbase, or dwelling. LambdaMOO, for example, is a mansion with several rooms in which participants interact with each other, manipulate objects, or move through the textual environment. Participants report imagining or actually feeling they are physically present in the rooms of the LambdaMOO mansion as they interact with each other or the environment.

Upon logging on, MOOers are given the option to choose either a quiet or noisy MOO space. A quiet environment limits interaction with other participants so one can explore the MOO, manipulate objects, read news, do the MOO tutorial, or study the help menu without distractions. Noisy environments offer the opportunity to interact with other players, and it is often impossible to do much else. Unlike face-to-face conversations, which often occur in dyads or small groups, MOO conversations may include as many as 10 characters at once. In fact, strict turn-taking does not exist in a MOO (Carlstrom, 1992). Each participant witnesses the conversations of the other players in the room unless participants are using a special command for private conversation.

Participants usually communicate by using the say, emote, page, and whisper commands. For example, to greet another character in the same room I would type ‘say hello.’ The words ‘you say hello’ appear on my screen, while the words ‘Elaine says, "hello"’ appear on everyone else’s screen. The page command allows me to talk to someone who is in a different room, and the whisper command allows me to have a private conversation. The emote command allows me to communicate nonverbally. For example, I type:

and the following appears on everyone’s screen or the screen of the person I am directing the message toward:

The emote command is used to demonstrate actions, or say things without really "saying" them--as in allowing others to read my mind: "emote wonders if she can resist logging on to the MOO for a few more days so she can finish this paper. . ." I often use this mind reading strategy when I wish to be included in a conversation, but do not want to seem aggressive. Cherny (1995) indicated that the emote command functions to provide communicative context, initiate play, establish responsiveness and attentiveness, and describe actions in RL.

Finally, many objects in the MOO are not only fully functional, but also serve to make the MOO world an intriguing environment. There are several layers built into the MOO, that is, objects have properties or verbs that only become apparent when @examined by the player. A MOO is a domain of intrigue and mystery, where things are not what they seem, and where the participant ultimately controls his or her experience in the co-created virtual world.

Why are MUDding and MOOing such attractive activities for thousands of people from all over the world?² The novelty of MOOing may appeal to many persons, especially to those intrigued with the technology of the electronic text medium. As the novelty of the technology wears off, however, the likelihood of encountering mysterious characters, vivid descriptions of new worlds, achieving mastery over a programmable environment, and building community becomes the focus of online play.

The absence of the body, and the potential to present a romanticized self in the MOO pose interesting implications for identity construction. Much of the research on identity formation in a MOO environment reflects the flexible boundaries of online disembodied multiplicity, gender swapping, disinhibition, and role-playing a romanticized version of the self (Schiano, 1997; Woodland, 1996; Sempsey, III, 1995; Turkle, 1995; Reid, 1994, Reid, 1995; Rosenberg, 1992; Bruckman, 1992; Serpentelli, 1992). The perceived anonymity provided in the MOO seems to encourage some players to experiment with their identities in ways they wouldn’t in RL.

Online communication lacks the body, or a physical manifestation of the self. In order for a self to have presence in online communication, the individual must construct his or her identity in terms of the communication events. In other words, presence is achieved through the quality of the communication, its frequency, and whether it is memorable. In a textual environment such as a MOO, the text not only represents one’s verbal communication, but also one’s actions. Online, one’s communication is one’s identity.

The text is the only visual representation of the self in online communication. Therefore, MOOers learn to maximize the creative potential of the electronic text medium. For instance, MOOers may send large pictures generated by patterns of text that fill the entire screen, use articons (for example, @-->-->---- looks like a rose when you look at it sideways), communicate nonverbally through the use of emoticons (for example, ;-) looks like a winking face and smile if you look at it sideways), and add paralinguistic features to their text (for example, eek! becomes EEEEeeeeekkkkk!). The text, which generates the emergent identity, serves as an agent or replacement for the body in online communication.

Turkle (1995) asserted that the internet and other electronic communication media have caused many to redefine their concept of the self in terms of fragmented multiple identities that emerge from online communication. MOOers and other computer users share is the phenomenon of the "disembodied self." The online self is decentralized, more flexible, and transcends conventional boundaries. Consider the example of the ordinary computer user. Most users are quite comfortable with "multi-tasking," or engaging in more than one activity at the same time. For example, it is not uncommon to work on a document in one window, while printing another in the background. In yet another window the user may check his or her email. Similarly, Many MOOers log on to the MOO from work and leave the background window running all day in order to take breaks to meet with friends online.

Turkle (1995) recounted the experiences of one MOOer who was popular and influential in his MOO and consequently had many friends online. He reported engaging in interactions in the MOO in order to boost his confidence before he had to make a proposal to his boss. Another MOOer admitted to having four characters in different MOOs and playing them all at once in different windows, while running a spreadsheet program in the background. According to this MOOer, "RL is just one more window... and it’s not usually my best one" (quoted in Turkle, 1995, p. 13). Clearly, computer users engage in activities everyday that fragment their sense of presence.

Given an individual’s locus of control in presenting the online self, many players choose to present themselves as the opposite sex. Many players tend to gender swap in order to "see how the other half lives" (Curtis, 1992a). For example, many males enjoy presenting themselves as female, since female-presenting characters generally receive more attention in the MOO than male-presenting characters. Many females prefer to present themselves as male in order to call less attention to their character and forego the sexual advances. It is not uncommon for players to enter MOOs primarily to engage in TinySex (virtual sex) with others. Although one may never know if the person "behind the character" is male or female, informants indicate that TinySex can be very intimate, intense, and gratifying.³

Disinhibition and Anonymity

Communication transactions in a MOO often reflect enhanced intensity, and disinhibition. The perceived anonymity causes MOOers to generally communicate more intimately but also more aggressively than one would expect in face-to-face encounters (Raybourn, 1997). According to Ried (1995, p. 167) "MUD environments are extremely culturally rich, and communication between MUD users is often highly emotionally charged." MUDders and MOOers feel safe, and therefore free to express themselves in ways they might not in RL. The safe, relatively anonymous environment provided by the MOO allows some players to access their latent feelings and desires with less concern for the consequences of their actions.

For example, a very famous case of a virtual rape in the LambdaMOO community has been documented (Dibbell, 1993). A character named Mr. Bungle performed violent sexual acts upon another character, Starsinger. The woman behind Starsinger was forced to read the words, "As if against her will, Starsinger jabs a steak knife up her ass, causing immense joy. You hear Mr. Bungle laughing evilly in the distance" (Dibbell, 1993, p. 3). This episode rocked the MOO community. Virtual rapes may have happened before this incident, but no one had come forward. The LambdaMOO community was so distraught that a town hall meeting about the rape was conducted online in which at least fifty MOOers attended. It was decided that the only way punish Mr. Bungle was to destroy him--so his character was deleted, or @toaded, from the MOO by one of the wizards.

Although players enjoy role-playing to a certain degree, cases of elaborate deception or communicating from the point of view of an identity that is completely foreign to oneself are not common. According to Turkle (1995), it takes a great deal of psychic energy to live an elaborate lie. Most players are more likely to present themselves in as an alter-ego, live out a fantasy, or present their character as a romanticized version of the self. "A large proportion of player descriptions contain a degree of wish fulfillment; I cannot count the number of ‘mysterious, but unmistakably powerful’ figures I have seen wandering around in LambdaMOO" (Curtis, 1992a; p.7). Therefore, it may be common for a new player to construct his or her identity from a "highly stylized mask out of the stereotypes of the real world, but over time this mask may develop into a complex alter-ego" (Donath, 1997). While identity exploration is a popular attraction of MOOs, players may feel they are finally rewarded when their characters are popular enough to perceived by other MOOers as influential, upstanding members of the MOO community.

I have argued that a MOO provides players the opportunity to engage in intimate interactions and apply new skills in imaginative environments. This environment not only parallels RL, but also becomes a virtual reality in which players co-create new identities for themselves and others. In effect, players debrief their own life experiences. In a MOO, who you are is literally determined by what you say and what you do with the text. The key question, then, is how do players construct their identities through their online communication? In order to best investigate this, I focused on the following research questions:

1. What themes of identity construction are revealed?
2. How are these themes performed by the players?
3. What do these performances tell us about identity in a MOO environment?

I spent over 50 hours as a complete participant conducting the field research for this study. My participation in this virtual environment consisted of (1) logging on to a MOO as a guest on a number of occasions, (2) becoming a character on two different MOOs and engaging in realtime conversations (both public and private) with various players, (3) learning to program and subsequently build virtual objects in the MOO, (4) exploring spatial layouts of various MOOs, (5) manipulating objects in the environment, (6) studying the help, manners, and programming manuals, and (7) communicating asynchronously via email with MOO researchers from ATT, Interval Research Corporation, Xerox PARC, MIT Media Lab, and the University of Colorado at Boulder. The researchers were helpful informants about the norms and expectations of the virtual community and the various methods used to research identity in MOOs.

Naturalistic data were collected, except for the interview with a LambdaMOO informant. The data were collected by utilizing the "print screen" function when engaging in public conversations with players, recording characters’ descriptions, and analyzing artifacts which represent the material culture of the MOO and its inhabitants. I also kept detailed field notes of my impressions, insights, and experiences in the MOO.

According to Curtis (1992a), a good number of MOO inhabitants appear to be undergraduate males. However, it is difficult to make generalizations about the MOO community. Rosenberg (1992) offers that MOOers may range in age from 16 year-olds to those in their forties. They may log in from all over the world. Additionally, not all MOOers are hackers or from the field of computer science; many report interests such as psychology, music, anthropology, theatre, and law. The education and socio-economic level of most MOOers seems to be slightly above average (Curtis, 1992a). However, the popularity of the internet has made MOOing more accessible to many individuals. Important MOOer characteristics brought out in my qualitative analyses include: 1) MOOers have above average typing skills, 2) enjoy the interactive, electronic text medium, 3) often learn simple object-oriented programming in order to contribute to the architecture of the MOO, 4) participate in a MOO community to feel a sense of belonging, and 5) enjoy the feeling of mastery that comes with experience and familiarity in a MOO.

I began my data analysis by referring to my original question, "How is identity constructed in a MOO? This question allowed particular themes about identity to emerge from my data that I could compare and refine with the literature as I collected the data and grew more familiar with my research site. I analyzed the data, carefully reviewed my record several times and generated themes from Turkle’s (1995) theoretical perspectives on the disembodied self, fragmented identity, and my own assertion that in electronic communication, the text serves as an agent for the performance of identity in a virtual setting. By engaging the data with the following questions, "What themes emerge, and how are these themes performed by the players?" and, "What do these performances tell us about identity in the MOO environment?" I generated three themes which reflect players’ identity construction process:

• The need to develop programming expertise in order to achieve privileges associated with status and being a contributing member of the community,
• The use of more creative communication skills in order to gain popularity, and
• Treating newer players with active engagement, indifference, or abuse in order to show off and present oneself as a powerful entity.

The notion that MOOers ultimately seek privilege and status through developing powerful and popular online identities was not obvious to me at first. The consensus among MOO researchers and members of the MOO community is that MOOs are not goal-oriented, and that there is no notion of winning or success (Curtis, 1992a; Bruckman, 1992; Rosenberg, 1992). In fact, a TinyMUD developer told Bruckman (1992) that he believes the TinyMUD (MOO) community is more egalitarian than the dungeon variety of MUDs because the possibilities are open-ended and there is no scoring system. My analyses, however, reveal that in the absence of an overt scoring system, players seem to have found another way to keep score and exhibit goal-oriented behavior--through their communication with other players.

The review of the literature suggests that MOOers interact online to build community and experience a sense of belonging, affiliation, and support (Donath, 1997; Turkle, 1995; Reid, 1994; Bruckman, 1992). This sense of affiliation and belonging is in part a result of the intimacy that can be achieved in a pseudo-anonymous world where one develops meaningful relationships solely through presenting aspects of the self that are perceived positively, and communicating shared experiences with others. However, I argue that building community and seeking affiliation online is no more egalitarian than in RL. Popular and powerful characters are rewarded by being recognized as the elite of the MOO community, being frequently sought after by other players, and often receiving the privileges that accompany the attainment of prestige and power in any RL community. For example, imagine entering a room full of people and immediately commanding their attention, affection, and respect. This is a very powerful dynamic that has implications for an individual’s RL self-esteem and self-concept.

A face-to-face interview with a LambdaMOO informant validated the construction and analysis of the themes that had emerged from the data. The following briefly describes his experiences with characters who were status seekers in LambdaMOO:

I recall the first time my character, Reagan, met Pantera. I was fascinated with all of the neat things he could do such as delete his character from the MOO log even though he was still logged on, or pose as other characters, even the wizard of the MOO. Pantera took the time to teach me some of the shortcuts he had learned. Now whenever I am on the MOO, I look for him, partly because he is an intriguing fellow, but also because I hope I can drain his brain about programming.

In fact, one way for players to become popular with "newbie" MOOers is to be helpful (Donath, 1997). Some characters have the honor of being designated official MOO helpers and are identified by wearing the "Official Helpful Person Badge." Official helpers usually identity themselves as such in their character descriptions:

Notice that Avery displays his badge ‘proudly.’ He has every right to be proud--Official Helpful Persons are members of the MOO ingroup and widely solicited by others.

The nature of the MOO and structure of its programming code is in part responsible for much of the social hierarchy present in the MOO universe. To fully participate in the quest for popularity and power, a player must learn to use the MOO programming language in order to build objects. My LambdaMOO informant revealed that the most popular characters carry cool objects, or use special verbs so they can perform interesting tasks. Players demonstrate their creativity and programming prowess by building unique objects, whether they are bots (robot), rooms, games, contraptions, etc. Due to the nature of the medium, a popular character, then, not only needs to be able to demonstrate programming expertise by building an exquisite room, but by performing the text as well.

As a newbie, I recall feeling very inadequate about not knowing how to program certain objects, or not being able to type fast enough. In the beginning, I would sit in front of the keyboard and watch the other player’s interactions scroll past me. MOOers quickly learn the unwritten rules of online conversation, and I was no exception. In order to participate in online interactions a player must (1) type fast or know the shortcut commands, (2) type short, concise exchanges, (3) develop a quick wit, and (4) exercise directive communication skills.

The first time a newbie’s creative writing skills are challenged is when s/he writes the character description. The players’ character names and descriptions provide the first impression that can entice others to interact with them or turn them off. Magician’s description below is quite robust in the sense that it offers many point of departure from which one could start a conversation with him:

Notice that Magician is carrying objects that indicate his status in the MOO. A player’s identity construction in the MOO is not limited to the description. In fact, it’s the entire package--the character description, the artifacts it possesses, the room it calls home, and the quality of its communication that shape its identity. In the absence of the physical body, it is the text that represents the character’s physical presence.

Inexperienced MOOers face several communication issues that must be overcome. For example, how can one influence the direction of the conversation in order to increase one’s comfort level or perceived popularity? How can one exhibit assertiveness without being aggressive? How can one demonstrate through text that one is a fun and interesting person? In RL these communication issues may be less straightforward, especially if an individual’s physical body is perceived to be attractive, nonthreatening, fun, etc. However, in the MOO, players cannot rely on the physical self as an aid for perceived communication effectiveness. For example, with more than two people simultaneously taking part in a public conversation, one may elect to vie for power over the communication that ensues.

Players exercise their power of choice either by actively engaging other characters, treating them indifferently, or abusing them. Perhaps one of the most horrible feelings in a MOO is when one’s character is the helpless recipient of another’s cruelty:

As I watched my character Pink_Guest being thrown into the fire and cooked alive, I felt defenseless. It was very disconcerting to watch actions performed on my character as I sat quietly with my hands folded in my lap. The worst part was, I wasn’t the only one who witnessed this embarrassing episode in which I was the object of abuse. On at least seven different computer screens across the United States, players were watching the text scroll and they might have been laughing at my expense. Even though I’d never know who they were, and they would never know me--I still felt embarrassed. In many ways "LambdaMOO is not merely a game to its inhabitants. It is an unreal environment in which real interactions happen" (Carlstrom, 1992, p. 7).

Some players engage in ‘posing’ behaviors, that is, they may log on to the MOO as a guest instead of their regular characters to order to fool their friends or pretend to be a newbie just for fun. I have been online as a guest only to have my identity questioned--a character once thought I was a friend of his posing as a guest. I was frustrated as I tried to convince the character that I was indeed who I claimed to be--a naive newbie who really needed his help. I would speculate the frequency of posing to be quite high in LambdaMOO. Donath (1997, p. 35) indicates that the ‘log on’ category of ‘guest’ is problematic in that guests may be new players or "established players seeking to do something destructive while in a disposable guise. Having no long term commitment to the guest character, their actions are unconstrained by any concern for its reputation." Posing introduces yet another layer of anonymity for many players--they can engage their friends as naive participants with the privilege of knowing their histories, fears, and desires.

The present study extends the current research on identity construction in cyberspace by describing how players’ perform their virtual identities to seek belongingness and become powerful and popular entities. I recall the research question, "What do the player’s performances of identity construction tell us about identity in the MOO environment?" I have argued that community building in a MOO is influenced by one’s individual quest for power and popularity, and the stratification of players based on programming skill level. The MOO environment represents a social hierarchy in which the fittest are rewarded. This is not to say that a player may not participate in a MOO strictly for fun, without getting caught up in the system--certainly one may. However, I do make the claim that this environment is no more egalitarian than RL. It too conceals embedded biases, prejudices, and preferences.

I believe that players participate in MOO communities not only to experience a sense of belongingness and affiliation, but also to gain respect, power, popularity, and privilege. The desire to be popular within a MOO motivates participants to develop well-known and influential characters (Donath, 1997). Participants gain respect and power by having well-liked reputations.

MOOers also participate in online communities to experience a world in which belongingness, privilege and power is a result of the character’s ability to understand the goals of the system, and master them. Ried (1994, p. 37) indicates that "power on MUD systems depends on the individual’s ability to manipulate the components of the system; privileges consist of increased access to such world-manipulating tools." A MOO is a programmable, interactive space, and its goal is to support communication. Communication in itself is not a neutral activity, therefore, a MOO is neither neutral nor without inherent goals, biases, or expectations.

Perhaps one of the most important implications for communication scholars that can be gleaned from this study is the notion that online, one’s communication is one’s identity. Online communication lacks the body, or a physical manifestation of the self. In order for a self to have presence in online communication, the interlocutor must construct his or her identity in terms of a history of communication events and the visible, electronic text.

Of the three themes which emerged from the data analysis discussed above, two overarching conclusions seem to be clear: Many MOOers play in virtual environments to (1) build community and develop rich interpersonal relationships and (2) achieve status, power, or popularity in their community. Additionally, MOOs also aid individuals in developing skills usually associated with reading and writing-- such as imagination, suspension of disbelief, and engaging text as a metaphor for the real world (Moock, 1996). Each of these skills enhances the MOOer’s on-screen identity while having potentially positive implications for one’s self-esteem and self-concept in RL (real life). That is, the longer one plays in the MOO, the more proficient one may become in programming, presenting the self, online communication, and relationship building. Playing in a MOO environment, then, is not much different from playing other games, it is a goal-directed activity, albeit subtle, that provides MOOers the opportunity to role-play a romanticized version of the self and strive to become powerful, popular entities.

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