Polarizing opinions for hits

I used the be a huge fan of Gamespot, and in particular Greg Kasavin.

That was a website that gave it to you straight, back in the day. If Kasavin said a game was good, it was generally really, really good. I especially admired him because he wasn't jumping ship on the Gamecube when so many other people were – he could see quality when quality was present, no matter what console it came from.

In the time since fellow editor Jeff Gerstmann's firing from Gamespot, which happened awhile after Kasavin left Gamespot to become a gaming developer (allegedly for giving a negative review to the game Kane and Lynch, despite the developers of that game taking out massive ads on Gamespot's page), it seems like the gaming journalism world has changed, and not for the better in my opinion. After the end of Gamespot's credibility (and the fact that they seemingly decided to ignore the fact that Wii games do, in fact, come out), I temporarily jumped ship to IGN. In hindsight, a bad move – they're part of the massive News Corp. media conglomerate, and are probably even more in the pockets of advertisers than Gamespot ever was. Still, it was somewhat invigorating to see a website that had so much content, even if that content was almost never of more than passable quality.

I have a big problem with IGN, and they're the inspiration for the title of this post. You see, they've started employing a tactic that I feel has become far too commonplace in internet gaming journalism – basically, saying things that are inflammatory or just plain false for the sake of drumming up page hits (and thus, more advertising dollars). I'll refer you to a passage from a recent article about the unveiling of the Nintendo 3DS by Colin Moriarity:

So of course I'm going to want a new DS. Who wouldn't? Unfortunately, although we know very little about the 3DS right now, I already have a massive problem with it. Consumers are now getting 3D shoved down their throats, even though no one really asked for it. Nintendo was guilty of something similar with the Wii's waggle – although novel when the console was announced and subsequently released, few people actually wanted motion controls. No one asked for them. And frankly, no one wants motion controls still, which is why there are games on the Wii that avoid using them meaningfully, including some of Nintendo's own, super-popular first party offerings, like Super Mario Galaxy. And gamers who play the HD consoles attempt to avoid the use of, say, SixAxis, as much as they can (there are games that even let you shut off that functionality completely). A vast majority of gamers would simply prefer to hold a normal controller and press buttons.

Using terms like "shoved down their throats" and a "vast majority" almost ensures that Moriarity's argument is going to find someone who takes offense to what he says. That's what universalists do (see? I just did it there, too). When someone makes as broad of a statement as "hardcore players don't like motion control," it both makes assumptions as to what a "hardcore" player is and what their interests and likes are. As the purveyor of a gaming website myself, I suppose I would fit into IGN's definition of a hardcore player. Sort of. I mean, I enjoy "casual" games too, and I'm hardly beholden to their traditional values when it comes to gaming. But I enjoy motion controls. I enjoy that tactile sensation. I don't think they "make" a game, but I don't think traditional controls do either – in fact, in only a few cases, do I think that control makes a game at all.

I wouldn't have a problem with such bold (if inaccurate and misleading) claims if IGN was kind of like our site, in that we don't make a cent off of advertising revenue. The fact that they've become a gigantic conglomerate on the internet with dozens, if not hundreds of staff members, and that their primary source of income is advertising, makes such articles increasingly transparent. Directing them towards Nintendo readers is all part of their plan, too, as self-professed "hardcore" players read these articles to comment and disparage their Imagine Babiez-playing counterparts, while stalwart Nintendophiles have to take up the mantle of defending their console of choice. All of this results in more page views and more ad dollars.

This obviously isn't a problem that's secluded to just gaming journalism – it's endemic in North American culture today. How else can you explain the popularity of Glenn Beck? It's clear-cut emotional manipulation. It ignores rational thinking and pushes all debates to a binary either/or scenario. Ideologies that take a less-easily defined road don't make for enough sensationalism, and are casually ignored.

This problem becomes magnified tenfold in gaming journalism, though, because people who are passionate about videogames and who are especially passionate about videogame websites make their allegiances to their console of choice an emotional investment. That could be a combination of factors, but I think that it perhaps relates back to the sheer cost of videogame machines. You have an emotional investment because you have probably spent upwards of $500 to $1000 on your console of choice.

And perhaps, too, it relates back to the console makers themselves. From the SNES/Sega Genesis generation onwards, the lines have been drawn in the sand. The marketers of each console have made it clear that their console is for a specific type of person. Never mind that that's almost never the case – hell, I played the Call of Duty game on my Wii, and I've played Viva Pinata on the 360 – but perhaps people internalize those advertising mantras. Who knows?

In any case, it's certainly a slippery slope when it comes to advertising and editorial content. Perhaps that's why I hold Roger Ebert in such high regard; he should be the paragon of reviewers for any medium. His writing style is fluid and concise and he's not afraid to allow his biases to show through, as trying to claim an unbiased attitude is specious at best. Most of all, he doesn't let anyone push him around. He's going to believe what he's going to believe. That's something that I think Kasavin was close to achieving with his reviews, but now, I don't know where the videogame review community stands. Giant Bomb's articles seem to be pretty negative a lot of the time just for the sake of appearing "edgy." Destructoid is still pretty good, but they often fall into that hardcore/casual nonsense and still apply arbitrary rankings to their reviews (Ebert has arbitrary ratings, but at least he acknowledges that). Gaming journalism needs a clear voice to rise to the top and be the Ebert of gaming, and hopefully that someone comes along soon.

(Note: I think I need to make a clear distinction between gaming reviews and gaming criticism, as reviews imply some sort of recommendation whereas criticism is more about pulling the medium apart for meaning. There are obviously a great deal of terrific video game critics, such as Ian Bogost).