Finger Clicking Good

Employees' covert gaming cuts into companies' bottom lines, but there's very little you can do about it. By Matthew Vice

It's no secret that the Internet has always been a double-edged sword for employers. On one hand, it's a vital business tool in any modern office, but on the other it allows employees access to an infinite world of distractions they never had back when fax machines were our communication networks and rows upon rows of filing cabinets were our servers.

In the early days of the Internet, flash animation and social networking hubs were still a glimmer in a madman's eye. Chat programs like IRC and ICQ were all the rage as they allowed us to converse with people around the world for a mere sliver of the cost of an international phone call.

The problem, however, was that c hatting with friends or even complete strangers proved far more enthralling than actual work. At the time, many employers were less computer literate than their staff, and so these elicit online chats were easy to hide: the programs were small and quick to minimise or stack behind a spreadsheet when the boss walked in.

But combating those threats to productivity is a cakewalk compared to the procrastination devices available today. The Internet is key to the success of any business and most offices worth their salt sport a decent broadband connection, allowing employees to access a wide variety of online tools and, of course, distractions.

With the advent of flash and the evolution various Web coding languages and social networking sites, the Net has become a Disneyland of digital temptations that only the most exemplary employees can claim to have passed up.

Social networking site Facebook is currently one of the primary scapegoats for employees faffing about during work hours, and it's become such an integral part of some people's lives that they claim that banning access to it is a violation of their rights.

The tale gets darker: Flash was initially developed to allow more dynamic, animated and interactive content on the Web. It's no surprise, then, that as Flash evolved, it was eventually used to program computer games. These miniature fun zones, usually referred to as "browser games", are small enough to download in seconds and often allow players to upload their scores online, giving procrastination a competitive edge.

To make matters worse, some of them now offer a multiplayer option where people can play games and chat with other players around the world. For a lifelong hardcore gamer, these aren't particularly tempting as they don't come anywhere close to the level they're used to, but for the average nine-to-five Joe they can prove very addictive.

It doesn't help that many of the social networking sites, including Facebook, allow users to play mini-games against their friends.

Do you remember the early days of Facebook, before the plethora of interactive time-chewing tools that are now availble on the site? Along came the Facebook Rabbit option, which allowed users to create a virtual pet rabbit and take it on adventures in a digital world, battling enemies to become stronger and earn outfits and armour pieces. It sounds silly now, but back then it was hot stuff.

It was simple enough to play and, for the first few weeks, millions of people around the world played it constantly. Even if they managed to hide it from sight, offices buzzed with the rhythmic clicking of the mouse as devious workers spurred their rabbits into battle . They got bored of it after a couple of weeks, but not before causing their managers more than a few grey hairs. It makes you wonder why bosses didn't block Facebook altogether - they were probably training rabbits on the sly themselves.

Nowadays, it's not just Facebook. Plenty of websites offer free games that people can download and play at the click of a mouse: puzzle games, shooting games, tile games, farming simulators, racing games, novelty games that allow you to beat a digital dummy senseless pretending it's your boss. All of these and thousands more can be found at sites like www.instantaction.com, www.chillcade.com, www.flash-game.net and countless others offering more titles than one person could play in a lifetime. These games are generally tiny in size and can be downloaded without any noticeable effect on the network or a conspicuous chunk missing from the company's download cap.

The website www.cantyouseeimbusy.com, in particular, supplies a number of browser games that appear to be office applications or business sites, allowing employees to play the day away without attracting attention. Surprisingly, the same site includes a counter which proudly displays a rough estimate of the money lost playing games alongside the title "damage to the economy".

In reality, blocking access to these products is a simple, heavy-handed order to the relevant IT personnel but, as always, there are other options available to employees who are determined to catch a break from the humdrum of office life.

Both Windows and Mac OS come pre-loaded with a number of miniature games, Solitaire being a firm favourite from the days before the Internet was even a real word. Many IT technicians are often mandated to remove all of these small, pre-installed games, including Freecell, Hearts and Minesweeper, before delivering PCs they've built or configured.

CCTV technicians who visit the security rooms of large corporate clients like banks almost always see the telltale signs of a quickly-minimised Solitaire window disappearing behind the security camera feed matrices the guards were supposed to be watching.

But even getting rid of these provides no guarantee. We live in a country where cellphone access is readily and cheaply available, and as mobile technology develops, so do the applications increase, including the Internet, where a smorgasbord of made-for-mobile games wait to be consumed by jaded workers.

Short of confiscating all employees' phonesduring working hours, controlling procrastination and work avoidance seems impossible. Looks like the price of productivity is eternal vigilance.