5.12.24
Two different people over the
last few days have said something to me like, "Now that you're free and
thinking about what you want to do next, maybe you can work on figuring out how
to fix the games industry."
And aside from being mildly
flattered and simultaneously bemused and horrified at the idea that anyone
could believe I would have (or want!) that level of influence on such
matters... I keep returning to the idea, and it leads me to a question:
What do we believe is wrong
with the digital games industry currently?
The Creators
This weekend there is much social media chatter about a
couple of studios Microsoft acquired at some point and has recently shut down. (I’m
being vague not because I do not know the details, the games, the decision
makers, and people impacted, but because I don’t want to focus on this
particular incident, but on the concept of a broader malaise.) This is an
example of the gloom on the side of the game makers: We’ve had huge numbers of
layoffs in the industry over the last 24 months, many more studios are struggling
and will likely close their doors before this year is over. There’s a strong
culture of fear in many places which makes people afraid to speak up or even
commit to a particular course of action because they are worried about losing
their jobs. “Just survive ‘till ’25” is a phrase I heard repeated so many times
this spring that it was almost a rallying cry for this year’s Game Developer’s
Conference.
So let’s agree that for people working in the games
business, there’s a strong sense of fear and the worry that things have changed
for the worse, and they aren’t sure how to find their footing again.
The Players
And then there are the players.
The current Player v. Industry dust-up involves the players
of a game called Helldivers 2 who love the game but have given the publisher
and the developer nonstop grief over many things, most recently some efforts to
force players to use a Sony account system to log in and play the game.
Perhaps the players have legit beef in this case, perhaps
there were good reasons (there usually are!) for forcing the use of a
particular account or login system.
But again, the specific case here is less interesting than
what I think could broadly be made as a true statement:
There is a deep sense of regular outrage and antipathy
between players and the creators and publishers of the games they play.
The Investors
And then the investors are uncertain, many sitting on the
sidelines. A few experienced VC groups have raised fairly sizeable amounts to restart
investing after 18 months of caution. Investment IS returning to the sector, albeit
slowly.
There are likely three big reasons for this: First, at the
macro level, interest rates remain high. There are other places which are far
lower risk to go get a return that outstrips inflation. Second, the industry is
seen as being in a correction post-pandemic after 2020 highs for almost the entire
sector. Third, at least a bunch of VC took a bath on Web3 gaming investment,
AND are now watching companies they funded for seed rounds struggle to raise
enough to bring whatever games they are working on to market; so many VC firms may
feel burned by investments over the last few years.
Investment into the games industry remains depressed and uneasy.
Some Areas for Further Thought
I’ll take these three categories of malaise as a reasonable answer
to the question, “What do we believe is wrong with the games industry?”
I want to think more about what solutions we can see that
will bring about the kind of change folks want to see. But before wrapping up
for the morning, I need to add two more observations and an exhortation:
First, I cannot help but see a bit of a backlash against the
hugely expensive AAA products that dominate sales charts.
Of the games that are getting the most attention, few are
big AAA $200M blockbusters. Consider this NTY article
from this morning, in which almost every one of the games recommended are
smaller indie projects.
Recently, Baldur’s Gate 3 absolutely swept the industry
awards, for good reason. (Obviously I’m far from impartial to the success of
this project, as I was involved however distantly.) But BG3 clearly delighted
fans and critics the world over, and did very well for its creator, Larian. So
there IS still appetite for giant, expensive games.
But there is also clearly a hunger for gamers (and creators,
and investors) for smaller, lower risk enterprises.
Second, I think there’s value in zooming out from the games
industry as a particular case study, and look at the broader relationship
between consumers, the technology companies that provide them with content, and
the workers who comprise those companies.
Noah Smith writes a provocative
piece on the “death of the internet” in which he argues that people are increasingly
turning away from content sources on the internet because the types of content
there are increasingly low quality as a direct result of the need to drive
profitability. (Cory Doctrow’s “Eshittification” of the net, “Slop” of AI
generated stuff, disingenuous content posted by foreign agitators are the big
three culprits in his mind.)
I’d like to think about all of this a lot more, but I see a
couple of major social forces in play here:
First, employees and consumers alike feel hostile towards
corporations right now. I think of this as an inevitable outcome of late-stage
capitalism, in which the inherent profit motive of corporations is distasteful
to folks who feel left out of the benefits of the system. This has little to do
with gaming in particular, and everything to do with discomfort people who (mostly)
don’t have capital feel towards a system working as designed.
The system isn’t built to make your life better, creators.
The system isn’t built to delight you, consumers. The system is built to
maximize return on invested capital.
Second, I think that in a world where the concept of community
has largely unraveled, and there are few abiding family structures, social
structures, or faith in religion or government to give people a sense of belonging…
In this post-trust environment, many people may be desperate for smaller,
trusted groups to feel a part of. This is a quest for identity at its heart for
many.
People need purpose and a sense of belonging, and when the
larger social super-structures no longer are great at providing this for many, this
seems to force a splintering into niche communities.
In a world where big
structures aren’t working for many people, are they seeking out smaller
communities, more niche experiences as a way of coping?