Editor's note: Suriel writes that special editions are your fault, Mr. Game Consumer. Hey, don't blame me! I stay away from special editions. And after reading this, maybe you will, too. -Jason

I still want to buy it, but if I go ahead and plop down the $250 for it, then I'll just affirm the theory that fans always pay extra for products that could sell for less.

The fault, however, doesn't necessarily lie with Sony (although they're not exactly the hero); Sony's only charging extra for it because they know they can get away with it. People are going to buy it. So why is it that fans are willing (and somehow able) to spend so much on things that they know are superfluous.

The biggest offender of this in the game industry is the special edition. Affix whatever "limited" or "collector" tag you like; it's hard to argue that special editions are anything more than a marketing ploy. Companies ask focus groups about what sorts of swag they'd be willing to pay for in addition to the game, figure out how to mass produce those things, and then charge as much money as you're willing to pay for it.

It stinks of exploitation, sure, but as mentioned before, consumers are at fault because we've let the market come to this. It's important to note the trends behind not-so-savvy buyers being the biggest contributors so that there's no question of what it is I'm trying to fix.

Brand attachment: This is probably the reason special editions exist. Companies (and fans) usually don't sink so much money into something that doesn't deserve it. The most ridiculous and shameful extras usually come from the biggest and most well-known franchises, because they're obviously the games that are going to sell.

Special editions also show us how companies promote new franchises. EA pushed Mirror's Edge and Dead Space with outlandish versions of those games. They had huge faith in those games, and the results, while not disappointing, were a little under EA's expectations.

The kicker is that the special editions don't even have to be any good. The most expensive and ridiculous things don't even have to be mass-produced—they just have to exist. This is because when they're announced, they tend to pop up on all of the various gaming news sites. People write about whether or not they're going to get it, doing exactly what the publisher wants them to do: promote the game for what is basically free.

Even if it's for the wrong reasons, this gets word out about the game and gets fans excited (if for only the extras), which leads to my second point.

Hardcore fans: No less important than the pimping brands are the fans who eat these things up. Gamers have shown that they are very capable of spending their money on the things that companies happily provide. There hardly ever seems to be a price cap. People complain about the excessive price of a collectible, sure, but rarely does that affect its sales. If you're not going to buy it, someone else undoubtedly will.

And when you look at it that way, it's a pretty lopsided seller's market. Collectibles usually run in low quantities because the manufacturer doesn't really want extras or lose money. So they tout the product as scarce, which inevitably drives people to buy it so that they won't miss out.

We've seen times when the production lines far outweigh demand (i.e., the Halo 3 Legendary Edition), but for the most part, demand outweighs supply. And of course, if a company sells their entire inventory, that's a big percentage gain for them.

So when this happens all the time, it infuses a "get it now before it's gone!" mentality in any fan of a franchise. Even when there is plenty of a product to go around, buyers often feel that if they don't act quickly, something important may be lost forever. This is what incurs the buying frenzy on all things collectible, be it videogames or something else.

The triple take: This one is pretty simple. When you buy a game at full retail price, the retailer gets a cut, the console manufacturer gets a cut, and the people who brought you the game get a cut. And out of that cut, the publisher and developer each get a cut. This is a pretty segmented deal, and the best way for all sides to make money is to charge more for the product.

But they can't just increase the price, because that would lead to consumer outrage. So by adding some extra trinkets to sweeten the deal, manufacturers, developers, and retailers can justifiably charge more for a game. And since these companies control the extras, they can come up with many ways to get more money from your investment. It's a shady practice, indeed, but from a business standpoint, one can certainly see a why somewhere.

We can see the infrastructure of exploitation here, but if you know anything about business at all, none of this is new to you. So what's the problem? Several points are in favor of this practice, in fact. There's nothing wrong with promoting a brand, especially a new one; these enhanced offerings can put new IPs in the same breath as established franchises and can feed the existing frenzy of "triple-A" titles.

Not all companies use collectibles to abuse a big name. Japanese developer Atlus is famous for providing free stuff with their games, which are included in the game's initial release. This is good promotion of a game. If you're a sucker for soundtracks and plush toys, you might be tempted to buy a game that you otherwise wouldn't be interested in.

Besides, the people buying these sorts of things don't seem to be bothered at all by this business practice. When looking at these products in sheer numbers, getting something extra with a game doesn't happen as often as you might think.

Fans want as many of these "freebies" as possible. They want something to strengthen their bond to the product, to assure themselves of their fandom, and something that lets them say "I am better than the average fan." I don't write that with a negative connotation; the impact that the average game makes today is so brief (how many people will be talking about Call of Juarez: Bound in Blood or BlazBlue a year or two from now?) that it's understandable that fans want a sense of attachment to their favorite titles.

No amount of longing for some sort of "ownership" of our favorite games can account for credulity, however. We should be cautious toward these sorts of things because it leaves a bad impression. For most of the people who do buy these things, that's fine, because to them, this sort of loyalty is what separates the "hardcore"* from the "casual"* crowds, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

But from the perspective of the those who campaign for videogames as something more than a collector's hobby, the fact that fans so blindly get behind these sorts of things makes it seem like "gamers"* are a group ripe for exploitation by collector's editions and swag again and again. It's like they honestly don't know better.

And sure, other industries do this (like movies and music), but they're not trying to prove themselves. People already know that those things are important to our culture. Most people don't take games as seriously, so we have to show them that not only are the games we covet as important as any album or movie but that their fans aren't to be taken lightly, either.

I don't mean to be cruel or cynical toward special editions. I'm asking that when you see an amped-up version of a game that you're already buying or an inflatable whatever, please be more careful with your dollar instead of yelling "DO WANT"* and recklessly spending your money. Whether you care about it or not, you're both voting and expressing how you want people to see you every time you spend that dollar. So use it wisely.

*Quotes denote annoying term.