Video games used to be a bit of a niche—a large and popular niche, but a niche nonetheless. Sure, our mom loved playing Dr. Mario on our old Nintendo, but that was about the extent of it. Video games were largely for boys, who grew up into men. Those men rebought the classics when they became available digitally, and continued to fuel the development of new games with their hard-earned dollars.
Of course, video game companies sensibly sought to expand their market share. They developed more casual games to attract older gamers and more women. The Nintendo Wii marked a major shift, as the kinetic style of the console made it popular among many demographics, most notably the elderly. Nary a retirement home or assisted living facility lacked a Wii, with which geriatrics could play virtual tennis and bowling.
All of that is wonderful. More gamers means more games, and it means broader acceptance of video games as a fun, harmless pastime (in spite of the ludicrous stories that insist on linking video games to violence—malarkey!).
Lately, however, video game developers have followed in the footsteps of film and television, making a mad push towards increasing “representation” in games. This development is premised upon a number of false premises, such as “women are objectified damsels-in-distress in games,” which ignores Princess Peach, Princess Zelda/Sheikh, Lara Croft, and many other “strong female” protagonists or supporting characters in game.
That obsession is linked to another false premise: that in order to enjoy a video game (or movie, or book, or other work), we must see carbon-copies of ourselves in them. According to this reasoning, a black kid can’t enjoy a Mario game because Mario is an Italian-American plumber, not an African-American one.
As Ponty so eloquently points out, video games are frequently a form of escapism. We don’t want to be ourselves; we want to be a burly barbarian, or a sneaky thief. When I play roleplaying games, I don’t play a six-foot-one, two-hundred-fifty-plus pound nerd with bad eyesight; I typically play a short rogue or bard character, pilfering loot from NPCs’ homes. I’d never burgle a home in real life, and the game doesn’t make me want to do so; rather, it gives the thrill of being a second-story man without any of the terrible consequences for either myself or the victim.
Regardless, gaming, too, has been a major front in the Culture Wars, going back to Gamergate in 2014. Nearly ten years on, we’re still fighting similar battles.
With that, here is Ponty’s essay “The BBC’s Newfound Interest in the Gaming Industry”:
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