Rediscovering My Passion for Minecraft After a Decade Away

When I first dove into Minecraft back in 2010, I was instantly hooked. In its early days, it felt like a digital Lego set, but with the added thrill of monsters lurking in the dark. The blend of creative freedom and the need to find a safe haven at night was utterly captivating, and for a while, it was all I wanted to play. Eventually, I drifted away, and it seemed like the game had transformed into something that belonged to everyone else. Even as my son cycled through various gaming phases, I didn’t feel the urge to reconnect—until this winter holiday when he insisted I join him on the Donut SMP. That experience reignited my original passion for the game.

At some point, Minecraft shifted for me from simply mining for ores and building cozy homes. In those early days (the official release came in November 2011), the gameplay was straightforward. The possibilities were endless, but the mechanics were simple—think Lego again. I spent countless hours immersed in it, so much so that when I started dating my now-wife, she quickly learned about my gaming obsession, often finding me up until the early hours, hunting for diamonds and trying to escape from spider-infested caves. Eventually, burnout and the game’s entanglement in various controversies led me to move on.

Before that, I had the chance to meet its creator, Markus “Notch” Persson. I first interviewed him in November 2010, when Minecraft was gaining traction through word-of-mouth and downloads. In March 2011, I invited myself to visit Mojang, the small studio he founded to continue developing the game. At that time, he was a humble guy who had just moved his operations out of his mom’s basement and had made his first $10 million. The team was literally moving into their first office, marked only by a makeshift sign taped to the door. I was shown around by business developer Daniel Kaplan, who pointed out the “conference room,” which was just an empty space with an upturned cardboard box in one corner.

During my visit, I interviewed Persson again, and he was still the modest, bemused individual who believed the game had already sold more copies than it would after its official launch (it had sold about a million copies then, and now it’s over 350 million). We hit it off, and it was a great time. However, I later became one of the targets of online harassment when things took a turn for the worse.

Things began to sour not long after. It’s easy to trace this back to Microsoft’s acquisition of Minecraft for a staggering $2.5 billion in 2014, with at least $2 billion going directly to Persson. But he had already faced significant personal challenges since late 2011, and his online behavior had begun to change. By 2014, GamerGate had emerged, and while Persson initially spoke out against it, that stance didn’t last. I felt the shift personally, as I was often targeted by his over one million Twitter followers. Minecraft started to carry the weight of his troubling comments on feminism and LGBTQ rights, culminating in his descent into conspiracy theories. By 2019, my feelings toward the game had soured.

I have a strange artifact in my home: a cardboard Steve head signed by Persson in early 2011. Its value is uncertain—it predates any official Mojang merchandise and was made by a local Swedish company he commissioned. It now sits in a cupboard, gathering dust, a peculiar reminder of a time filled with optimism for indie gaming.

Donut SMP is one of the most popular public Survival Multiplayer servers for Minecraft, peaking at nearly 46,000 players in the last 24 hours. Anyone can log in for free and explore its vast world. Created by a well-known Minecraft YouTuber, it offers players a space to build, craft, raid, and, most importantly, earn in-game currency. The intricate market allows players to buy and sell resources and crafted items for free, encouraging newcomers to make money by selling basic materials to wealthy players who don’t want to mine themselves. Enterprising kids can quickly start raking in cash, enabling them to purchase powerful tools to craft impressive bases or run their own farms for even more profit.

Before the holiday break, my 11-year-old son expressed interest in getting a Minecraft Realm, which are rented spaces on a server that allow up to 10 players to share the same world. It’s quite affordable, so I agreed, and he began inviting his classmates. For about three weeks, it was fantastic! Watching the kids come together to build amazing bases, design XP farms, and embark on cooperative adventures was incredible. But soon, factions formed, alliances were broken, and betrayal led to sabotage. One child even started killing others and stealing their prized items. In-game conflicts spilled over into real life, causing friendships to fray at school, and eventually, my son didn’t want to return. It had become too sad. Instead, he asked if he could join the server he had spent countless hours watching on YouTube.

Joining servers on a Nintendo Switch is no simple task. It requires editing DNS settings and spoofing server access to allow the console version of the game to connect to server addresses, which can lead to crashes and errors. But once he figured it out, he jumped in and immediately took charge. With the holidays giving me some free time, he asked if I would join him.

I was hesitant because my relationship with Minecraft had become complicated. I had played local multiplayer with him over the years, but it never quite clicked; I was always focused on mining for diamonds while he wanted to engage in more complex activities like farming skeletons or exploring mysteries. However, in Donut SMP, our goals aligned perfectly! To get started, we needed to make money, which required someone to mine resources and someone to craft them into valuable items. Together, we made the perfect team!

Now, we have an incredible secret base where my son has figured out how to use redstone to create contraptions that automatically harvest sugarcane and cacti, channeling them into water streams that sort them into chests. He truly figured it out on his own—rather than following a guide or copying a YouTuber, he intuitively understood how to use observers and pistons for automation. While I randomly teleport to gather materials, he skillfully battles mobs that spawn above us and designs increasingly clever machines. Then it’s his turn to explore far-off areas, where he often discovers amazing things like ancient underground cities or the remnants of another player’s base.

But there’s always a lurking threat. Donut SMP is ultimately a hostile environment. In many ways, it resembles a PvE world with the constant risk of unexpected PvP. With 40,000 players spread across a vast landscape, it’s unlikely to encounter others directly—I never have—but signs of their presence are everywhere. The ground bears the marks of battles, and strange towers of blocks reach into the sky, creating an atmosphere of an abandoned world where survival is a struggle, yet the market thrives as players eagerly buy stacks of iron bars or enchanted shears. (Seriously, don’t copy me, but I’ve made a fortune selling Unbreaking III shears at outrageous prices!) All the while, we’re haunted by the fear that another player might stumble upon our underground hideout, likely when we’re offline, and take everything we’ve worked for or vandalize our creations. (That’s why our location is blurred out in all the screenshots!)

The market has also provided my son with a crash course in the harsh realities of capitalism. It’s a perfect way to illustrate supply and demand. We were selling crafted rails for $50,000 a stack when someone undercut us to $15,000. What should we do? Lower our prices to compete? Wait for the market to stabilize? Or, as I can’t resist, buy everything the competitor is selling and relist it at a fair price. The speed at which it mimics (and even satirizes) the stock market is both amusing and a bit unsettling.

Through all of this, I’ve rediscovered that initial love for the game. Now, there’s a purpose behind my diamond mining, especially since we can craft enchanted pickaxes to sell for $150,000 to players who don’t want to make them themselves. Together, my son and I have made millions, but more importantly, we’ve shared an amazing experience in this equalizing environment during those chilly winter mornings.

Everything I loved about Minecraft is alive again, with infinite possibilities taking on deeper meaning through our shared adventures. I can set aside the darker memories of the mid-2010s and return to this wonderful game in a way that feels meaningful and, more importantly, incredibly fun. That odd Steve head may sit forgotten in the cupboard, a relic of a bygone era, but I have enchanting to do!