Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article herein reflect those of the author and do not necessarily match that of PlayStation Universe’s opinion.
Video games, as an industry, is growing up. Weaning itself off its weary soother and taking its first steps into the big, bad world. And with that dewy-eyed maturation comes an enervating transition into the realm of corporations and harsh truths, most of which are an unnerving prospect for the idle gamer. In a borderline infantile trade that’s still fitting itself into these new found corporate shoes, the growing pains associated with that much-maligned position are more accentuated than ever. Every facet of the industry is examined, adjusted, and re-appropriated; the way we consume video games, advertisements, and pretty much everything associated with the platform is more blurred than ever before. One such aspect, an historically docile one at that, is the process of pre-ordering a video game. What was once an unobjectionable pursuit that was reserved for confirmation of a day-one copy of the latest releases and maybe even some nifty stylized postcards has now descended into a multi-million dollar exploit that’s more designed to provide analytical certainty to shareholders than serve the consumer honestly. After all, in an age of digital downloading and huge retailing chains dotted throughout the land the chances of being unable to snag a copy of a new release on its first day are smaller than ever before. So why is it, then, that gamers in their droves still come out to support this now-distorted, albeit integral, practice?
Firstly, the pre-order incentives that seem to be bandied about for these big-budget titles nowadays are, for the most part, entirely inconsequential and rather serve solely to extend the gilded stranglehold that behemoth-like publishers have on their prospective audiences. For the price of something as innocuous as new camouflage for an AK-47, gamers have effectively gifted their hard-earned cash to faceless entities under the intrinsically shaky grounds of promise – a foundation that the likes of Watch_Dogs and Destiny have proven to not be worth the paper they’re written on. It’s not the gamers’ fault, either; millions of dollars is pumped into carefully constructed gameplay snippets and advertising campaigns fundamentally designed to sell to you a product that hasn’t even come to its full fruition. Trailers, sponsored articles, and television spots are all impeccably conceived in order to deliver a shoehorned narrative that’ll get gamers talking and sell the most units. It’s just the way of the world, obviously, but its ever-increasing potency and importance within video games tells of a time where if you give publishers an inch they’ll unflinchingly take a mile. And with development costs poised at an all-time high, it’s understandable that these companies would explore whatever avenue imaginable in order maximize their potential profits, but it’s ultimately – and indeed unfortunately – been gamers’ passivity that has allowed the situation to deteriorate to the depths that it has.
Coercing in this contrived pre-order ploy are, naturally, the retailing outlets. Like a ragged, ravaged lion trying desperately to cling to its power in the face of a potential usurp from an ambitious and ever-growing cub, the retailing giants have wholeheartedly embraced the culture in a concerted effort to reinvigorate the diminishing sales of new copies of the latest games. Nowadays, the latest releases are systematically stripped of some of their parts and divided up amongst the likes of GameStop and Best Buy in an attempt to incentivize and bay potential custom from a suitor. More than that, in a sort of vindictive two-pronged twist, publishers have also created several ‘editions’ – none more underhanded than the ‘Day-one version’ – at oftentimes extortionate prices in another devious attempt to extract even more money from patrons. Horse armour and a new frock for Arno Dorian aside, pre-orders are also a mechanism by which retailers can gauge the interest and potential revenue for titles without the issue of overstocking and losing out on profit. The selling of new releases is on the low end of the scale for retailers, far beneath that of second-hand games and assorted peripherals, so by that reckoning pre-order culture is a method worth pursuing for these corporations – irrespective of the far-reaching consequences that will reverberate throughout the industry.
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For many, 2014 has, above all else, been a real eye opener into that disparate gulf between gamers and the powers that be. From Watch_Dogs and DRIVECLUB to most recently Assassin’s Creed Unity, gamers have bore the weighted brunt of broken promises – and oftentimes broken games – from publishers that talked a big talk but simply couldn’t walk the walk when the time came. Nonetheless, for them, the hard work’s been done months ago in selling the product in the form of pre-ordering. Their shortcomings are masked by the all-consuming bottom dollar, with a lot of it having been paid prematurely. It’s a borderline exploitative practice in misrepresenting a product and/or even backtracking on initial promises that may have been a deciding factor in pre-ordering the game in the first place. What’s more, the fresh debacle over console parity has also highlighted the fact that some developers are deliberately bottlenecking PlayStation 4 versions of multiplatform titles just in the name of appeasing the alternative systems and ”to avoid all the debates and stuff.” In purchasing a particular console, the gamer should, in theory, expect that each high-budget title that appears on it takes full advantage of the available specifications, anything less is not only a betrayal of trust but a sleight on Sony themselves.
Not least, this whole pre-order fiasco has also unwittingly given rise to an interesting paradigm: sky-high development costs and demand considered, developers are under an untold amount of pressure to meet deadlines set forth by the publishers that are also, perhaps uncooperatively, championing a half-finished product to whomever will grant them the oxygen to do so. With the ubiquity of always-on Internet and the day-one patch mentality, games are released practically incomplete and receive entirely inimical coverage, certainly justly, as a result. The rise of pre-order culture most definitely plays an intrinsic part in this contorted symphony as the pressure to stave off talk of – or indeed action in – delaying a title is very real. With so much money already invested into development, and the pressure that pre-ordering generates from the consumer, publishers take the considered decision to run with a half-baked title rather than taking it back a step for some much-needed polishing. And while there’s a justified decry over such a boardroom decision, it’s also borderline counterproductive given that many gamers could very well then choose to wait a couple of months so that the game is fully patched and a little cheaper, with some even then deciding to go down the pre-owned route, much to the revile of the publishers.
Subsequently, these boardroom-level decisions must unquestionably lead to a sort of internal struggle between that of the publishers and developers from both a creative and commercial standpoint. Video game development is more varied and complex than ever before, with scores of people working on any given title, so the pressure to create an engaging, technically accomplished video game is ramped up exponentially even before you factor in external demand and pressure. That’s not to say that the development side of the process is completely absolved of blame for this predicament–for all we know they could very well be wilful players in this debauched matrimony–but most of the telling signs would seemingly point towards a mantra of subservience rather than anything purposely malicious from the teams themselves. Furthermore, factor publisher-driven hogwash like DRM and forcible microtransactions into this warped cacophony and the plight of the full-priced big budget title seems more toxic than initially anticipated. And while the concept of pre-ordering from a consumer perspective seems relatively harmless, the actuality is that its influence and subsequent consequence cannot be overstated – it all feeds into the controversial decisions that publishers and their divisions exact; decisions that will ultimately affect gamers hardest.
Video games, as a collective, are at an awkward juncture; perched precariously over a darkened precipice. As the piercing gaze of the world’s media descends upon this historically humble and introverted pastime, it’s ultimately the gamer that can, in amidst of all the controversy and contentious decision, shape the narrative that gaming will essentially fulfil. You wield the power to dictate what sticks and what falls; what’s remembered and what’s forgotten. No developer, publisher or advertiser is bigger than that of the user base that it is pandering to – and that, above all else, is worth bearing in mind. Stand up for yourself, advocate your position as a gamer; champion the fact that you’re not simply a contrived number, but rather that you stand up for something that you love. Given dedication, positivity and time you’d be surprised what can be achieved.
Where do you stand over pre-order culture? Is its opposition just a load of ruckus or is there something dubious about where the practice is heading? Give us your views in the comments section below.