When I was elected as the MP for South Norfolk, I did not expect to be discussing Super Mario World Kaizo, the Oddworld series and the “Grand Poo World Trilogy” in Parliament. However, when – as a member of the Petitions Committee – I got the opportunity to lead a debate on video games, I couldn’t believe my luck.
Having read those words, you will be completely unsurprised to learn that, not only am I a gamer, I am a complete video-games-nerd. Video games were a foundational part of my childhood. For me – and for millions of people around the world – video games gave me whole new worlds to explore, a challenge of my skill and a community of like-minded people. As I told MPs last week, gaming is personal: Gamers invest far more than money. They invest time, effort, imagination and friendship.
Despite the self-evident enjoyment I took from mentioning some of my favourite games in Parliament, there is a serious issue underpinning the debate – one that perhaps has not received as much attention as it really should.
The world of gaming is changing drastically. Modern games are live services. They are server-dependent, updated constantly and subject to operational costs to remain live. The result is the changing meaning of “owning” a video game. Gamers feel just as connected to Pacific Drive as I did to Donkey Kong World. They invest the same time, effort and imagination. But the game itself is less tangible and when games are taken offline, gamers’ investment is lost.
Slowly but steadily, games are disappearing. With them goes source code, soundtracks, scripts and beloved designs and graphics. So too, gamers’ time, creativity and shared moments disappear for good.
The Video Game History Foundation estimates that some 87% of games released before 2010 are “critically endangered”. Imagine if this were true of any other media. Imagine, for example, if 87% of our musical heritage faced being lost forever. How much of our culture could have been lost? The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Queen; imagine 87% of their discography disappearing. It’s unthinkable.
“Before 2010” is not so long ago. Sticking with the music analogy; One Direction formed in 2010, Arctic Monkeys released their first album in 2006, Amy Winehouse covered Valerie the same year, Oasis released Lyla in 2005, Coldplay’s The Scientist came out in 2002. None of it is any the worse for being a couple of decades old. Each of these artists and tracks shape our popular culture to this day, British culture would be blander, greyer, duller without them and – I repeat – we would not countenance such a cultural haemorrhage. Video games play the same crucial role in our heritage, and they deserve to be protected.
In acting to protect our video game heritage, we must tread carefully. Requiring developers to define end-of-life strategies up-front could stifle innovation and create barriers to development. But we cannot ignore the fact that gamers deserve clarity: where possible, offline games should be provided; gamers should be forewarned of games going offline, with clear notice periods; and where no other recourse exists, gamers should be offered refunds.
Some companies and organisations are already providing solutions. When The Crew was shut down Ubisoft offered refunds. Valve released the source code for Team Fortress 2 to ensure preservation. In Sheffield, the National Videogame Museum is already doing outstanding and exciting work, documenting, curating and celebrating our gaming heritage.
We need a collaborative code of practice, developed alongside industry, consumers, preservation experts and government. Clear expectations need to be set of developers. Alongside this we need to be supporting those working to preserve our gaming heritage. We need to explore funding, partnerships and sectoral support to ensure the maintenance of game assets, scripts, soundtracks and designs.
All this is possible, it will be a challenge, but it is possible. And I for one feel very strongly that it is entirely worthwhile. For the gamers who lose treasured memories, for the developers who pour their heart and soul into their games and for the preservation of our heritage, without which all our lives would be so much less interesting and exciting.
Video games play the same crucial role in our heritage as other forms of media and art – they deserve to be protected
