Let me clarify something before I start. I am not fresh out of an Intro to Mass Media class and filled with outdated ideas on the various ways technology has created worldwide disconnect. I am not naive enough to disregard the endless social connections that would not be available without technology. Being able to play “Grand Theft Auto” with my brother when we are miles apart and it has been weeks since we have seen each other in person–being able to do that is a gift. Video games, like all other forms of media, have the ability to bring people closer together. Unfortunately, the reality is that video games serve as a backdrop for a culture that is non-inclusive, isolated and destructive.
If you did not follow the #gamergate controversy, I can hardly blame you. For many, the world of the gaming community is out of sight and thus out of mind. Getting to know the story behind ‘gamergate’ is nearly impossible if you are not well-versed in video games. Basically, if you did not happen to be part of the normative gaming club, you are likely not privy to such information. As it happens, this mindset also applies to gaming as a whole.
The gaming population, as with any other society, comes with a flawed and confusing class system. As made evident during the gamergate snafu (a description of which would take far more space than is allotted for this article). Women are widely unwelcome in the gaming world. In fact, in my personal experience being anything other than a straight white male is enough to shift the nomenclature between players into that of a homophobic, transphobic, sexist and/or overly violent nature.
The irony here is that even by creating this dichotomy of ‘us’ and ‘them,’ gamers become no less isolated. I cannot think of a better example of isolation than two of my current roommates, both of whom are avid gamers. As I write these words, what I see is the type of image typically reserved for overblown warning ads directed toward weak-minded parents. What I see is two single adult men yelling profanities at each other from separate rooms. Some might interpret this image as two adults working together towards a common goal. In some instances, this would indeed be the case. However, when neither of these men have anything in common outside of the fact that they both play video games, a different picture starts to develop.
One of these men lives off a diet of squeezable applesauce packets and Dora the Explorer fruit snacks. The other has lost any drive to pursue hobbies outside of gaming. Both rely on video games as their only topic of conversation. Neither is able to sustain a conversation with me unless it pertains to the rent. Even when they play together, it is in the form of a falsified friendliness. They, like many others before them, have let video games overtake their lives.
Unlike those who rant on the evils of video games, I do not see a problem in the games themselves. Instead, the issue stems from the consumers. The people that play video games are not part of a community. Rather, they are fragmented into pompous sects that stand for nothing but the individual. By-and-large, gamers are rude and destructive, taking up imbecilic hobbies like ‘swatting’ (calling in false tips to the police so that people in the middle of a live-stream are raided by a swat team) for no clear reason except to feel superior. While it is true that a group should not be judged solely on its bad seeds, evidence for the existence of ‘good’ gamers is consistently drowned out by the torrent of the bad ones. There are pros and cons in every assembly like this, but with gamers, the ratio often seems a bit more skewed.
