Panic’s 2019 announcement of the Playdate sparked intriguing rumours at the time. How could we obtain this odd new device, and what was it?
Initial impressions showed a peculiar new toy with equally peculiar retro-themed games made for its D-pad controls and distinguishing feature, a foldable hand crank. The Playdate felt like a no-brainer purchase for so many reasons: novelty, nostalgia, creative experimentation, and a return to intimate explorations of fun and the kind of general goofballery that you just don’t get on major consoles. Its tiny black-and-white screen and “seasonal” games from indie stars like Keita Takahashi (working with Ryan Mohler under the name “uvula”), Bennett Foddy, Dave Hoffman, and Serenity Forge were In order for developers to create games using the Playdate authoring tool, Pulp, and sell them on itch.io, the Playdate also permits sideloaded games.
Leeying Foo was thrilled to learn that the Playdate was being produced in her nation. Award-winning UX/UI designer Foo from Kuala Lumpur exclaimed, “I was quite thrilled and honestly very proud!” But it soon became clear that the console would only be available to a small number of people, making it a very specialised console that few would be able to obtain. A sharply worded news article with the headline “Playdate gaming console: Made in Malaysia, but not available in Malaysia” was published in The Star, a significant English-language newspaper in the nation.
Playdate posted a mention regarding its availability in Malaysia on their shipping page shortly after the launch announcement. It begins, “This is, unfortunately, the most convoluted shipping scenario of all,” and goes on to explain that due to tax regulations, Panic is unable to ship or sell Playdates directly to customers in Malaysia. Shipping Playdates from Malaysia to California, where Panic’s fulfilment centre is situated, and then back to Malaysia again would not make much sense.
In an email, Panic co-founder Cabel Sasser stated that the company also publishes and sells Mac software. “We develop a possible tax relationship with any jurisdiction the moment we start directly sending actual items there.” Panic’s shipping priorities included determining the Playdate DDP (“delivered duties paid”), which essentially refers to taxes and customs fees that are calculated in advance so that there are no hidden surprises for the customer, say, if the Playdate is taken hostage at customs. This research required extensive time on tax laws and bureaucratic procedures.
Based on a good suggestion from their manufacturing consultant, Panic chose a Malaysian factory in Kedah, which is home to the nation’s first high-tech industrial park. They learned about the sale limits later in the process. Sasser emphasised the difficulties of producing a previously inconceivable piece of independent hardware, saying, “Shipping and logistics work arrived extremely late in the project’s existence since we were so focused on learning how to create hardware for so long. We had always anticipated that since our production was in Malaysia, they could simply send Playdate units to people locally or in quantity to gaming stores in the area, but we were told right away that, in fact, that’s not possible. We were very disappointed by that. It makes sense because Sony has a much larger footprint in Southeast Asia than Panic, which has only recently arrived.
Most people are unaware of [the Playdate’s] existence, but some of us have been monitoring their effort for a while, according to former game developer I-Van Yee, who now works for the Malaysian Digital Economy Corporation, a government organisation that regulates the creation of digital material. Because of the device’s gimmicky character and unproven market, it is generally true that most developers won’t rush to it right away, but I personally think we would see some intriguing developments if academics or high-school-level kids got their hands on it. Yee, a former lecturer, believes that the Playdate is a promising creative tool that can be used by both teachers and students. He stated that academics should experiment with new platforms and may take some risks.
The question of Playdate in Malaysia, however, revisits crucial issues that define modern manufacturing and logistics, where the nebulous “global south” is a far-off place used for cheap labour, which in turn feeds into the growing body of critical work on the politics and power of logistics. This is because the games industry is slowly moving towards a broader, more global understanding of how its own products are made and by whom. Today, shipping is more than just transferring something from one place to another; it’s a procedure that’s a part of a complicated, faulty system that exacerbates cultural and economic injustices in all forms of global manufacturing, not just games.
Foo, a UX designer, is also cautious. According to her, “I personally believe it requires both parties to make it happen; Panic’s conscious intention to distribute here and enthusiasm from local developers to build for the console itself.” “This might be the technological advantage the Malaysian industry has, and since it’s being produced here, it could go hand in hand with providing our industry a voice… At the end of the day, Panic is a company, and the absence of Playdate at this location is an indication of a wider systemic issue with capitalism.
