Recently a new game journalism scandal has broken out concerning the termination of a prominent online games magazine editor, which has resulting in a number of allegations being levelled at the bias and credibility of a major web magazine. Scandals of this type break out every now and again though they, perhaps by virtue of the generally juvenile and undiscerning readership, have not yet appeared to result any immediately recallable corrective actions. Rather, they tend to instead drop away from their temporal position of absolute criticality and hurtle back down into whatever obscurity they came from, allowing a peaceful return back into the industry's better working of things—better, in this case, being a relative term. Whether or not any of the parties involves acted with impropriety is beyond the scope of this document, it only sets an interesting background onto which to exercise a thumping ranting muscle.
Current scandal aside, this document is not about the behaviour of games magazines—perhaps I wouldn't be alone in regarding the current fuss as no great epiphany; the integrity of the game reviewing press is something I think they've struggled with for quite some time. Maybe the fact that these scandals catch such an enthusiastic reactions hints to a general undercurrent of scepticism among the general readership, also—kindled in, I'd hazard to guess, the gaming public's opinionated and rebelliously youthful fire pits by the occasional lack of correlation between observed and promised impressions. That is, the ease of the readership to accept the possibility of such a high profile magazine being manipulated by economic interests points to a pre-existing scepticism. But the question this document seeks to address is not tied to the going rate on a good review; by biggest issue about our press is not that they can be bought, instead I'm more concerned with something that goes back before publishers were big enough to believe they could, and should, muscle and flatter and manipulate the media. What I want to discuss actually has more to do with audience than it does with integrity.
Audience is a curious concept in the game industry. My observed belief is, even inside the game development community, we still haven't really worked out how to deal with it. Many designers don't understand how to speak to a specific audience, and too many publishers are afraid or unable to segment their customer base. So, it's somewhat ironic that we come back here with respect to the game reviewing community.
The gaming press, I would imagine, attracts a very young audience, quite imaginably significantly younger than the gamer market in total. For the most part, it's easy to believe that they are impressionable, excitable, and tend to be attracted to like pretty, shiny things—that is, “pretty” both in terms of visuals and in terms of concept. Marketing clearly reflects who this audience decides to buy; and that is, so some large extent, based on its “oooh, cool” impact—does the fantasy appeal, is it evocative, is it reminiscent of cool things. The industry has been developing, over some time, the realisation that, as far as sales figures are concerned, the quality of the game is a less significant factor than might be generally hoped. Yet, this is essentially what reviews attempt to zero in on—the simple, objective and measurable quality of the product. Sales analyses have been used to show the somewhat feasible idea that, from the audience's standpoint, some abstract numbers at the bottom of a body of text might be interesting to discuss with friends, but have a reduced impact on purchasing decisions. Instead, fundamentally, it takes an evocative fantasy to trigger the buy impulse. That's why we decide what games we are going to buy before they are released, before they are reviewed. That's why all the best games are just about to be released, why so many are disappointments and why developers believe that only games with a serious advertising budget sell. That's also why a game preview is more important than a game review. If the preview works, the reader will decide to buy there and then.
Recalling that the soul and only purpose of game reviewing is to inform the purchases of readers, and considering that a game preview is really just a regurgitation of carefully limited and massaged information from publishers, then I put to you this: the advertisements in printed and online games media are at least as important as the actually editorial content, in terms of fulfilling the media's purpose. Advertising material here meaning traditional banner ads, as well as publisher-provided screenshots, video, booth footage, etc. After all, the advertisements have infinitely higher production values, are quite often produced by more skilful people and function perfectly well even when they have no integrity. Seen from a slightly more extreme viewpoint, you could say this: the media is largely a means of delivering advertising, some editorialised, some not, to a primitive and undiscerning audience. Fortunately, this is exactly what the reader wants—they want to be inspired by what cool things they'll be playing next summer. The blocks of text and numbers that come along with it are, to an increasing extent, little more than noise hitching a ride.
Seen from that frame of reference, the idea that some of this noise was biased one way or another should hardly been seen at the forefront of concerns about a large and dysfunctional industry. However, it should be noted that the media itself can been seen as largely a victim, rather than a perpetrator of this situation. It might be tempting, then, to replace a finger sternly wiggled at the magazine and the potentially manipulative publisher with a deeply unimpressed sigh. But forgo judgement for now, because it seems that many have already reached a conclusion, albeit probably partly based on completely unrelated events. This is important, because under the propaganda, that large and vocal group of the prematurely decided are expressing one impactful thing: a general and overarching dissatisfaction with the predominant games media, based in part on a basic distrust. And that voice is what this document is about; not so much because of its content, but for the fact that it can be harnessed and transformed, hopefully for the benefit of the industry as a whole--though perhaps not for the ends that might be expected.
Some reviewers nowadays seem to have a very odd way of describing themselves as journalists. It seems strange because journalism is typically associated with news and current events; for example, a film journalist might be expected to cover the latest important events in the industry (the writers strike, the rise of Bollywood, the latest cheap location to outsource to, whatever), rather than the actual product itself. A film reviewer, on the other hand, might only be expected to be interested in the product. There's a third type, also, someone who may seem similar to, but is fundamentally different than a reviewer—a critic.
The difference being, in my mind at least, this: the reviewer fulfils the purpose outlines earlier, to inform the audience's purchases. He speaks only to the product's audience and discusses only those things that will determine their interest in the product and only in terms that make sense to that audience. A review is successful if those who follow his advice enjoy the products they are directed to. A review informs the market's buying decisions, which in turn, through the mysterious forces of capitalism, informs future product development.
A critic, on the other hand, at least in the classic sense, speak not to a product's audience, but to its creators. His interest is not to inform the audience's decisions, but to inform the product's creators, and their peers, about the product itself. He is interested in the specific functioning of the product directly, where it works and where it doesn't work, and to find ways to speak about the nature of the product. He is also an educator, by virtue of the fact that he identifies what is important and can analyse how and why it works. He works in a more analytic mode and is interested in not just the final product, but also the process that produced the product. His ultimate goal isn't a happy audience, but rather a more effective and more rational craft. Rational, in this sense, meaning decisions are made based on direct intentions to meet some goal, rather than the arrival at that goal through the arcane invocation of trial and error powered by the great bootstrapping feedback loop of the market.
More simply, a reviewer speaks to the potential buyer, a critic speaks to the maker.
The idea of criticism has been a theme throughout much of human endeavour; not least of film history in the very recent past. Early criticism led to an understanding of the structure and fundamental of the art, and the development of various “grammars,” critical developments that allowed rational understanding and discussion of the medium. The game industry, however, as testament to its always surprising irrationality and juvenile procrastination, has never developed a functional culture of criticism. There are no game critics; or at the very least, none which are effective enough. And yet, this is where the industry needs to be. It must, finally, develop the skills to understand its own product and to discuss it on a large scale. It must move out of the irrational dark ages and we must do it soon—before the technology runs out and before designers are finally faced with the great challenge of having to support the industry alone, and so have to learn how to reliably produce satisfying crutch-free product. We cannot allow the industry to stumble, because any stumble—even a small one—could result in a tremendous crash.
It's important to note, and fundamental to my key argument here, that effective criticism can also be very interesting to the product's audience, as well, even if its goals are so lofty as those described above. It provides a number of important secondary effects such as education of those wanting to make the jump from audience to creator; encouraging the audience to be more discerning and critical in their own evaluations; and potentially sparking a new interest in a tired old industry where, on the surface, everything just seems like the same old same old. That is, the transition from reading reviews to reading criticism can be a smooth one, assuming criticisms written with this intention in mind--which an author may very well want to do, if only to cement a readership of curious outsiders.
The industry needs to develop some form of functional, viable criticism—not as a replacement of the current form of game reviewing media, but as simply a new element to the mix. Kicking off this type of movement can be difficult, however, even if it need only be a very small and very localised one because, in order for it to be truly successful, it must reach a large number of people. The weakness and self-deception of--and dissatisfaction in--the contemporary reviewing media provides a wind to raise a sail to in the hope of building something new. Something of a parasitic headline, if you will, a sign of weakness to exploit and benefit from. A manipulation upon a manipulation, because integrity is relative and not required if being sufficiently analytical (or, perhaps more accurately, a manipulation upon a misunderstanding of a hidden personal conflict, as I am leaning to believe). And while the contemporary media may never change its spots, at least we might build something useful from these scandals that so reliably happen before so reliably disappearing again, unresolved.
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