Liberty Minecraft occupied a deliberately finite world -- a 7,000 by 7,000 block area roughly the size of Manhattan Island, New York. This was not a technical limitation but a philosophical choice. By constraining the map to approximately 19 square miles, server operator NullCase forced players to confront the same fundamental problem that shapes real-world economics: scarcity.

A Finite World by Design

Most Minecraft servers either reset their worlds periodically or allow players to explore outward into a procedurally generated landscape six times the size of Earth. Liberty Minecraft rejected both approaches. Instead, it offered a third option: a world with hard boundaries where every block of dirt, every vein of diamond ore, and every tree existed in a knowable, limited quantity.

Liberty Minecraft's players may have to solve difficult problems: can people have abundance and wealth in a world of finite resources without resorting to violence or threats of violence? I believe there's no other way, but I test my ideas.

The world was surrounded by a shimmering barrier -- a world border -- that stopped players from advancing beyond its edges. You could see the terrain stretching beyond the border, but you could never reach it. A secondary backup border existed beyond the first, pushing players back two blocks if they somehow breached the primary wall. If this pushback would strand a player over the void, they were instead teleported to a safe spawn point.

The 7,000 by 7,000 block size was used in both the Old World (December 2015 through early 2019) and the New World (launched August 31, 2018). However, the two worlds used different terrain seeds, meaning the geography, resource distribution, and landscape features were entirely different. The New World was a fresh start -- same boundaries, new terrain.

The Three Dimensions

The server's three dimensions each had their own boundaries. The Overworld -- where most activity took place -- was the standard 7,000 by 7,000 blocks. The Nether, Minecraft's hellish underground dimension used primarily for fast travel, matched the Overworld in size. The End, a dark outer dimension, was considerably larger at 11,000 by 11,000 blocks, giving players more room to explore its alien landscape.

The Nether was particularly important to Liberty's geography. Because each block traveled in the Nether corresponds to eight blocks in the Overworld, it served as the backbone of the server's transit infrastructure. In the Old World, the Nether supplemented CreativeGates portals, which provided instant player-built teleportation. In the New World, where all teleportation was deliberately removed, the Nether became essential -- it was the fastest way to cross the map, and the Netherway rail system built by Haksndot became the server's primary transit network.

Build Limits and Vertical Scarcity

Scarcity in Liberty extended vertically as well as horizontally. A build limit determined how high players could place blocks, and this limit was tied to a player's Path -- essentially their tier of server participation.

The default User Path allowed building up to 96 meters above the void. This was enough for standard construction but excluded the tallest mountain peaks and most dramatic terrain features. Players who supported the server through donations unlocked higher Donor Path levels, each granting access to greater vertical range. At the highest levels, donors could build on rare mountaintop locations that were both coveted and exclusive.

This created an interesting secondary economy around altitude. Donors who built in high places could create hidden rooms, exclusive storage, or shortcuts that only other high-level donors could access. The value of a Donor Level was therefore not fixed -- it appreciated as the community grew and more content was created in those upper reaches.

Land as Scarce Resource

Land itself was among Liberty's most precious commodities. With only 49 million square blocks of surface area in the Overworld, every claim reduced the pool of available territory. The land claims system required players to convert diamonds into cash at the Diamond Exchange, then purchase claim blocks. The economics of this changed between eras:

In the Old World, one diamond yielded $1,000, and claim blocks cost $20 each -- meaning one diamond purchased 50 claim blocks. A player could make claims permanent by investing at least $1,000,000 in claim blocks (equivalent to 1,000 diamonds), after which those claims would never expire regardless of inactivity. Temporary claims expired after 28 or 60 days depending on the owner's playtime-based rank.

In the New World, one diamond yielded $10,000, and claim blocks cost $100 each -- still 50 claim blocks per diamond, preserving the same real cost. But permanent claims were abolished entirely. All claims expired after 60 days of inactivity, regardless of investment. Subscribers ($5 per month) had their expiration timer paused, but no one could buy permanence. The rank system was also removed.

Abandoned claims in the New World were auctioned off through the GPAuctions plugin, with proceeds deposited in the original owner's balance. This mechanic prevented permanent land hoarding while respecting property rights, a market-based solution to the classic problem of absentee ownership.

Over time, towns emerged as players clustered their claims, built infrastructure, and created marketplaces. In the Old World, The Bazaar and Landing Market in The End, Alien's Landing, and Costa Vista were prominent settlements. In the New World, Scar City (Spawntown), New Stockholm, Oak Hills, and Valmur became the major centers. The finite world meant these settlements could not simply spread indefinitely; they had to develop vertically, trade for resources they lacked locally, and compete for the attention of new residents.

Experiments in Extreme Scarcity

NullCase occasionally pushed the scarcity concept to its logical extreme. In August 2018, he launched a temporary test world that was 99% smaller than the main server -- just 256 cubic meters, roughly the size of Boeing's Everett Factory. The terrain was amplified so mountains soared past 200 meters, leaving more than 80% of the surface as ocean. Access to the Nether was blocked entirely, meaning players could not craft Ender Chests and had no truly safe storage for their belongings.

Our test world is being replaced by one that's 99% smaller. At 256 meters cubed our players are boxed in.

These experiments served as stress tests for the server's core thesis. Even under extreme constraints, players organized, built shelter, farmed food, and traded goods. Within three weeks of one such test, players had created over 200 shops and completed more than 1,500 transactions, all without central planning or administrative intervention.

Private Property as Foundation

The world's design was inseparable from its property system. Five types of private property were recognized: inventory (items held on a character or in protected storage), cash balances, claim blocks, pets, and land claims. Each type had distinct rules governing ownership, transfer, and abandonment.

In Liberty Minecraft, private property is defined by computer code. As defined, you have the exclusive right to decide how your property is used. No one can use your property unless you first permit it -- by intention or dereliction.

Property rights were enforced computationally rather than socially. No player could damage another's claimed land or access their protected containers. In three years of operation, there were no recorded instances of property destruction. This was not because players were universally cooperative -- it was because the code made theft and vandalism mechanically impossible within claimed areas.

The Manhattan Experiment

The comparison to Manhattan was more than casual. Like the real island, Liberty's world was surrounded by impassable boundaries, densely settled near its center, and subject to intense competition for prime locations. The server's interactive world map -- a Google Maps-style tool showing claimed land across all three dimensions -- made the parallels visually striking. Players could zoom in on neighborhoods, identify unclaimed parcels, and watch the map fill up over months and years as the finite world was gradually spoken for.

The result was a remarkably self-organizing system. Without zoning laws, building codes, or urban planning, players created towns with commercial districts, residential neighborhoods, public infrastructure, and transit networks. The finite world did not produce chaos -- it produced something that looked, from a distance, very much like civilization.