Gamers have to “feel comfortable” with the concept of not owning their games. Not my words, but the words of Ubisoft’s director of subscriptions, Philippe Tremblay, who caused a stir this week by saying the quiet bit out loud.
Only in gaming can you take an almost entirely digital product, put it on consoles that can remove access in a heartbeat or in a PC program that can do the same, and then get red in the faced over the concept of ownership. That ship has long sailed. And while the concept of ownership is steadily being tested in other areas – pour one out for anybody that bought an NFT – it is a losing battle.
Sure, we’ve had the comfort of illusion when it’s come to choice. I could walk into one of the increasingly shrinking number of brick and mortar game stores, buy a plastic case and come out with the feeling that the thing in my hand is mine. And it’s true, it is. Even if I lose access to the information on the disc, or if it’s incomplete and requires a patch to get working, I own that disc.
But the game? No.
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The argument could go either way, and I’m not going to push too hard on it. It doesn’t really matter in the cold light of day. So long as I can play the title I want to play, when I want to play it, the little flag in my brain that says “ownership” is an irrelevance. That is the trick. It always has been. And the trick is only becoming less obvious, not more.
Honestly, the last few weeks have just proven Phillipe’s case.
What We Own
So a couple of things have happened in the last few weeks that have brought this point home. The first is a personal one, while the others are bigger.
I bought my wife the DLC for Disney Dreamlight Valley. I wanted to use some credit on my account, but something made me look up whether you could share the content across everybody on the console. You can’t. The DLC is linked to a single account, as though it is Fortnite currency.
Sony and Microsoft are aware of this, and let it happen anyway. On Nintendo consoles it is shared across multiple accounts.
By any definition, that is a rental. It can be removed, it can only be used by one person. It makes no sense, except as a device to make more money.
I mention it here as much for that small scale change in the way ownership is viewed on console in this case as I do for how annoying it was. And I’m not the only one annoyed.
At the same time, Walmart have started removing physical Xbox games from their shelves, starting with Starfield. Hellblade 2, conspicuously, won’t have a physical release. Game, here in the UK, announced it would no longer be buying used games, and that when they’re gone they’re gone. Since this announcement, I wondered in to check on some prices and Hogwarts Legacy was nearly £40 – double what it’s been available for on PC digitally. Hell, it’s double what it’s been frequently available for on apps like Vinted and Facebook Marketplace.
The Switch to Digital
These are not unrelated. The age of physical ownership of games is rapidly disappearing. The value of running a secondhand service or even putting out a run of discs for a relatively important game like Hellblade 2 just wasn’t what it was a few years ago.
Is it sad? Yes. But like so much about modern life, it’ll be convenience that kills the tears. I can play any of hundreds of games across my devices at the push of a button. I can see everything I own in a list, rather than a cupboard. I know Google tracks me when I’m using their Maps app too, but it gets me where I’m going and it’s effectively free.
As someone with a sizable collection of films, I’ll never be happy to see physical go entirely (and thankfully Limited Run and, inevitably, other boutique labels will continue this work). But while a 4K disc is everything you need to watch a film, a game disc is increasingly just an inconvenient barrier to your adventure. It has been a long shift to get to this point, but we’re here. And that’s why Phillipe’s comments hurt so many people – we know he’s right.
