Before enumerating each and every thing that’s wrong with so called video game journalism today I would like to tell you a story. It may or may not have anything to do with video game journalism. The moral of the story is yours to discover.
This story is not about Jeff Gerstmann.
Once upon a time in a land named after a bird so fat that it’s earthbound, there was only one video games magazine, which was named after the company who produced probably the most enduring computer hardware ever. It was published by people who imported said computer into that land. It was serious. Its tones were a mixture of black and white and boring.
Then came a fat guy who was named after a sort of blade and decided to publish another magazine. Now the fat man knew that only kids owned this computer in this land, however popular that computer was. And all kids cared about were games. “So,” he reasoned, “how about making a magazine dedicated entirely to games?”
That was a good idea. That would sell. Yes. Only one problem: How would he find journalists or computer experts who specialize on games? Games, being an activity exclusively designed for children, were naturally played and therefore known by children only. Surely no journalist would spend his time engaged in such a pointless activity.
Therein lay the solution to the problem. Why not hire kids as writers? Surely some of those kids are studying at a university or a high school, institutes which usually make literacy a requirement for their students.
Together with these literate kids and a logo stolen from a famous German magazine, the fat man quickly set up an office and published the magazine. When he did this, many people thought it was a crazy idea. Professionals thought it was a joke and their opposition didn’t even take notice of the magazine. It was doomed to fail.
When the sales number started to trickle in, it was quickly understood that the magazine was a smash hit. And soon it turned into a cultural phenomenon. As a magazine written and published by gamers and for gamers, it was infinitely more likable than the official tones of the other magazines. Everyone was happy. The readers felt like they were talking to their friends. The writers were writing about the things they love most. It was a perfect match, the stuff of dreams. The rare mixture of amateur excitement and the innocent aspiration to become proper journalists produced a unique voice that was instantly likable.
In time every single writer developed his own voice. The magazine itself became a symbol of rebellion for all the young people. They weren’t only supporting video games, they were supporting heavy metal, too. At one point they gave out a huge poster of a heavy metal band which was founded by the pissed off former lead guitarist of yet another, slightly more important heavy metal band, the name of which was interestingly stolen from a magazine. Soon fans were gathering to host their own heavy metal/video game events, while other magazines were trying to imitate the success.
An epidemic of similar games magazines started, each with their own interpretation of the rules of journalism. None of their writers were journalists. And soon each of those writers thought they knew best.
Now all these magazines, including our friendly heavy metal one, were using the ever popular percentage system to rate games. Each writer was strict in his own way. But being gamers, each of them had different tastes. After all, there wasn’t a clear cut method to reviewing games. It’s not like this is an exact science. No one graduated from a games school, or come to think of it, a school of journalism. So opinions varied as readers who are now called “fans” rallied behind their favorite writers.
Then something very weird happened. Somebody released a game in that country named after a fat bird. It wasn’t the first game released there, but it was surely the biggest and the most expensive project. This historical strategy game, named after a sort of knife, occupied three times the space of an average game at the time, used a very popular game engine, was designed by a team of visual artists, and for all intents and purposes it was pure, unplayable crap.
This game was reviewed in all the games magazines. Naturally everyone expected a different score from each and every magazine. But the weird thing here was that the game not only received favorable reviews from everyone, but also the exact same score. What did this mean? Did the writers finally come up with a unified theory of game reviewing?
A closer inspection revealed that the texts of each and every review were identical down to the tiniest typo. For a moment, it was eerie and mysterious. But the magazines were content. Their bank accounts and owners just grew fatter.
What followed was even bigger disarray. A game which all the writers in the magazine hated would receive a high score from the reviewer of the same magazine. Writers would either call each other names, or claim illogically that it was all decided in unison. Fans started digging trenches, calling each other and their favorite authors “fanboys” and claiming their magazine was the best.
Still the heavy metal magazine had the most fans in the middle of this game journalism circus. Then they did something unthinkable. They reviewed a new game released by a famous company. And they gave it a perfect score of 100 percent. There was an uproar. Again people pointed fingers, and called each other names. The editor of the magazine, though, was very calm. He said, “Yes, we think this game is perfect. That is why we gave it 100 percent. If we are not going to give that 100 to any game, what’s the point of having the percentage system?” It was a valid question and perhaps an honorable thing to do.
The silly thing happened when the same company released an even better game later. And because that game was clearly better, everyone was confused. What would they do? They thought for a long time. And they came up with a great idea.
The review score of this new game was 101 percent.
The rest was a blur in which other magazines used a variety of systems based on 200 points, 150 points, 10 points, letters of the alphabet, different number of stars, joysticks, LEDs, disks and pumpkins.
Until the whole thing collapsed when everyone lost interest. No one trusted the magazines anymore.
Today the same country has very few game magazines, and everyone says: “Reviews don’t mean anything. Real gamers play the game and decide for themselves.”
I know this doesn’t make any sense. But I hope that the importance of these events will be made clearer during this series of articles.
This story is not made up. It’s all true. Some of these things already happened on a global scale as well.
I am still waiting for the first game to receive 101 percent on site indexed by Metacritic.