The Harsh Reality Of Digital Game Ownership Is Finally Here

If I had to guess, I would say the majority of players buy their video games digitally now. Prices have reached a point where they are more or less equal to physical media, and there is a level of convenience to downloading a game directly to your console instead of messing with discs or having to source a copy that might be out of stock everywhere you look. Not to mention that a lot of experiences require extensive updates anyway, making the disc version a hollow shell of the game you ultimately want to play.

Compared to where the medium was even a decade ago, digital video game ownership has come leaps and bounds. Nowadays, I only tend to purchase physical versions of games that mean something personal to me or belong to a certain series, filling holes in a vast collection even if they are destined to remain in shrink-wrap forever.

Despite the massive convenience of digital downloads, however, we can’t ignore how it’s being abused by corporations to make sure that we never truly own anything anymore, and what we do can be taken away as we’re powerless to stop it. That’s the future we are living in right now.

The pre-owned market has also suffered, and has had to raise prices or lower trade in offers, making it less viable, meaning more people go digital, meaning it has to raise… it’s a vicious cycle.

You Don’t Own Digital Games, Digital Games Own You

Earlier this month saw PlayStation update the DRM policies associated with its consoles and digital software, with players now required to perform an online check-in of sorts every 30 days in order to prove they own all the games installed on their consoles or that are found in their libraries. If you aren’t connected to the internet and can’t verify these licenses, games will simply refuse to launch until you have. It’s similar to trying to launch a physical version of a game on your console without a disc inserted — it simply will refuse to do so because there’s no obvious ‘sign’ of ownership.

People initially thought this was simply a bug and not a shift in overall policy, but players who have since spoken with PlayStation Support have verified the opposite, with the bot opting to describe it as a “technical feature” of the platform. On the surface, this isn’t that far removed from having to verify your digital licenses upon logging into a new console or setting a brand-new machine as your primary option, but this check-in system will seemingly apply no matter what console you happen to be playing on.

It’s gross, and there is nothing we can do about it except vote with our wallets, with hundreds of users on social media already claiming they’re done purchasing digital games on PlayStation as a consequence. Sadly, it’s not that simple.

There’s a number of mixed responses doing the rounds online right now, with a lot of users justifiably worried about this new policy and the impact it will have on their collections.

You might also think that having to go online once a month to prove to Sony that you own all the games you play isn’t a big deal when you’re connected to the internet all the time, as it is. But what about players who don’t have access to the internet, or what happens when the time comes for Sony to stop supporting the platform and all the games that call it home?

If the servers cease to operate, then you will never be able to play these titles ever again. It is a profound issue of preservation that was always going to come up when digital ownership became the most common form of consuming video games. We aren’t actually purchasing games, but rather a license to access them that can be revoked whenever PlayStation sees fit. You can back things onto a hard drive, but if the license has expired it won’t matter.

Video Game Preservation Is Harder Than Ever Thanks To Digital Ownership

This entire situation is another nail in the coffin of PlayStation considering where it currently stands in the gamer zeitgeist. A number of failed live services, excessive price hikes, and a surprising lack of worthwhile exclusives has seen the platform holder lose lots of goodwill in recent months, and I doubt this digital ownership fiasco is helping.

Ironically, it reminds me of when Microsoft came under huge fire for alleged DRM policies prior to the Xbox One launch that would have prevented players from playing used physical games on their console as similar online check-in procedures were implemented to the one discussed here. PlayStation used this backlash as a masterful marketing tactic at E3 2013, with executives Jim Ryan and Adam Boyes handing a physical version of a game between each other to showcase how used games could be played on PS4 in a now infamous clip.

Not only was it marketing genius, but a promise to consumers that PlayStation wasn’t going to succumb to toxic digital practices that were pervading its competitors. But it turns out that Sony was simply delaying the inevitable and acknowledging that — unlike Microsoft — it knew the world wasn’t ready for an always-online video game platform where everything you do is determined by having an internet connection.

Fast-forward 13 years and things have evolved in ways that are now impossible to avoid. Live services are everywhere, triple-A blockbusters are few and far between, and the majority of games we play are available digitally. Several of the biggest indie darlings are only digital to save costs.

The physical market has become increasingly niche and the territory of enthusiast collectors rather than the primary means by which we consume video games, meaning PlayStation, Xbox, and even Nintendo have fewer reasons to care about its prevalence. If greater profits mean having to enforce increasingly anti-consumer DRM practices onto the masses, then so be it.

I’m positive that physical versions of the games we love aren’t going anywhere, but as they fade from the mainstream, we are going to end up relying upon digital games alongside the online infrastructures in which they are made available more and more. What scares me is that I view the medium as an artform first and foremost, but have no choice but to engage with anti-creative practices in order to experience that medium at its most effective.

PlayStation’s new DRM policy sucks, but I fear we have no choice but to play ball with it or stop playing video games altogether. My advice: keep being loud, vote with your wallets, or try to find alternate ways to support games you truly love.