Spoiler Alert: It’s complicated, and the clickbait title is meant to be hypocritical irony. You’re welcome.
Before I dig deeper into the meat and potatoes of my ramblings, please understand, this isn’t an accusation. I’m not here to throw stones (unless I’m in the Gulag) from my glass house built on thousands of never touched games, countless unopened humble bundles, and too many sleepless nights spent watching YouTube videos of someone else playing games they were paid to say nice things about.
How did we get here? How did one of the most passionate, vocal, and loyal communities not only allow but encourage the end of mainstream game journalism?
Instant Gratification: Gimme dat dopamine!
Widespread accessibility of platforms like YouTube, Twitch, and Bluesky (X be damned) has given every gamer with an internet connection a voice. That’s a good thing…mostly. Gone are the days when we have to find a game journalist aligned with our own personal tastes, hope they are selected by an editor to play the game we are interested in, and then wait for that professional to craft a thorough review. Instead, we get opinions offered up by influencers who are paid by a game’s publisher and told what their hot takes should be.
Why demand thoughtful critique when anyone with access to a “GO LIVE” button can give you exactly what you want to hear in an easily digestible short? And to be frank, most of us would rather watch our favorite creator make amusing faces and crack jokes into a mic about a new game instead of reading a 2,000+ word breakdown on its design, story, art, bugs, and more.
Scruples? Sources? Meh, let’s choose vibes over veracity. I promise my snark isn’t meant to be overly judgemental of Influencers or their fans. In fact, to a degree, I respect the hustle. We are all just trying to make some sort of living in this ever-confounding world that loves to crush dreams and originality. If you get the opportunity to make your life a little bit more comfortable without harming others then I say take your shot. But don’t get it twisted, the new wave of content we’ve seen envelope the gaming space over the last decade isn’t bound by the same journalistic integrity as the old guard. Research? Fact-checking? Sources? Those things take time. And in a world where a mixture of audience size and being first is often more important than ethics, we’ve all accepted speed and entertainment over thoughtful criticism.
We’re all “guilty” (as I see it), and I for one am not preaching for the disappearance of influencers. Remember, my primary job is that of a Community Manager, and as one I’ll earnestly defend the importance of content creators. Games thrive with fandom and community, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with players choosing to make content for a game they enjoy.
End result? We’re living it. Conflicts of interest everywhere. Influencers are often paid to promote a product, whether that’s through sponsored streams, videos, or early access. Since creators rely on maintaining positive relationships with publishers, their content is often (understandably) beholden to the studios and publishers writing their checks. It’s a far cry from the critical distance we should demand from game journalism!
Okay Mr. Indignant, what do you propose?
Besides shouting at clouds, I don’t have a great answer. Greed and laziness aren’t leaving humanity anytime soon, and I’m under no illusions that gamers as a whole will suddenly decide to start giving a damn about journalistic integrity tomorrow.
With no actual data to back me up I do have one thought — and hear me out here — let’s make AAA games hurt our wallets again. Yeah, I said it (please don’t grab your pitchforks yet). What if the biggest AAA games every year began charging over a hundred dollars? If AAA titles became a luxury purchase, it may naturally limit how many of those types of games most individuals could buy each year. Instead of grabbing every blockbuster upon its release, more players would have to choose one or two titles they’re willing to invest in a year. This might force publishers to fight for our trust again. Before dropping, say $120, an average player might once again see the need for unbiased voices in games media. Suddenly, real reviews and critical journalism might matter again.
Does my proposed solution have any guarantees for success or that it would be a popular one? Absolutely not! It’s speculative, imperfect, and borderline silly. But silly times call for silly ideas, and our current system (in my opinion) isn’t working.
Bottom line? The “death of mainstream game journalism” isn’t the fault of any singular influencer, publisher, or even corporation. It’s our fault, too. We rewarded speed over substance. We turned our backs on journalism because it wasn’t the echo chamber we often seek or maybe it just wasn’t entertaining enough. And we chose to ignore the very blatant conflicts of interest because, well, it was easier that way.
But here’s the thing, we might still be able to turn this ship around. Support the journos and creators who are fighting the good fight. Do some legwork to find and share thoughtful reviews. Demand better coverage. And above all, start giving a damn about the media we consume.
The old system wasn’t perfect, but we sure could learn some lessons and apply them to what we have now. Or maybe I’m just an old man droning on about the good ole days by candlelight when there’s a perfectly good light switch just over yonder…