Lowest Common Denominator

19 Nov 2009 at 00:00:00 by Andy Alderson

God bless the internet. Not only has it revolutionised the way we communicate and share information, the internet also serves as the ultimate egalitarian tool, providing a mouthpiece for all. Even those who really shouldn’t have one. It is essentially a shit amplifier, magnifying idiocy to such staggering proportions that, in the world of video games, the lunatics really have taken over the asylum.

As if you hadn’t guessed already, this week we’re talking about the frankly mystifying concept of fanboyism. You see, in technical terms, fanboyism is a deeply disturbing phenomenon, exposing the dark side of capitalism. OK, another dark side of capitalism. Fanboyism goes beyond simple brand loyalty into the shady world of submission and unquestioning adoration, hinting at a mental relationship between consumer and product that verges on the obsessional. Fanboys are delusional, they are unwaveringly loyal and scarily quick to resort to abuse in order to defend their beloved console. Fanboys are Whitney Houston at the height of her crack phase. 

Now, fanboyism is hardly new. Platform loyalty has existed almost since the beginning of gaming, going back beyond SNES v Mega Drive, Amiga v Atari, Speccy v C64. Only then, mercifully, we didn’t have to read about it every day. Fanboy outbursts were largely confined to the letters sections of the multiformat mags and, in theory, only rants which satisfied the most basic requirements of logical thought would be printed. It’s not that idiocy didn’t exist back then, it was just more articulate and, thankfully, easier to avoid. In the words of Bob Dylan “nnnnneeeeeeeeaaaaaaaayyyyyyy (something mumbled).” Translation: “the times they are a changin’”

See, these days the fanboy enjoys a greater role in the games industry, and is beginning to define the agenda. The internet has enfranchised the fanboy; it facilitates stupidity like a teacher who gives a megaphone to the kid who routinely shouts “pissflaps” at the back of the class. Just as the internet has changed the way we read about games, it has also opened the door to a room filled entirely with shit.

Choose your favourite online gaming publication/retailer/blog. Don’t worry, I don’t mind if it’s not IncGamers. Now take a moment and peruse the comments section of that review/game page/blog post. See that? That, my friend, is what the gaming world has become. That festival of dickery dancing away before your very eyes is gaining momentum. For every considered, intelligent opinion there are ten “FagBox 360s”, and another ten “MongStation 3s.”

Now, I won’t pretend to understand it. I was a gamer long before I was a journalist and yet I never felt any kind of affinity to computer/console hardware. I felt no need to berate my friends for owning a SNES while I had a Megadrive. If anything I felt envious that I didn’t have both, but that envy never manifested itself in the form of passive-aggressive, badly written abuse for my peers.

So, we’ve established that fanboyism is ridiculous, but there is, in fact, one thing worse than the fanboy. And that is the hopelessly contentious article designed to ensnare the fanboys and increase traffic. We’ve all seen them: screenshot comparisons, why x is a dying console, company y has no respect for its customers. Go to any syndication site like N4G or Gamekicker and look for the most popular articles. By way of example, at the time of writing, one of the most popular stories on N4G is titled ‘PS3 vs Xbox 360: Is NPD misleading the industry with inaccurate sales data?’

Sounds like a great story doesn’t it?  One steeped in intrigue and conspiracy. Only, it isn’t and when you actually read the article, which is a fairly prosaic interview with a dude from NPD about DLC and MMO sales figures, you discover that it has very little, if anything, to do with ‘PS3 vs Xbox 360.’ A more cynical man than myself might suggest that the prefix was probably added to create a bit of fanboy interest in what is essentially a dull, news-lite article. And given its rating on N4G, it seems to have worked. It’s the gaming equivalent of a Princess Diana story in the Express or an “immigrants join forces with Russell Brand to rape England” front page in the Mail.

And this is the unfortunate by-product of the way gaming journalism has changed by moving online. By catering to the fanboys we are not, as some would no doubt claim, encouraging debate. What we’re doing is encouraging the same debate, the same interminably tedious debate that we read on a daily basis. By doing this we’re wasting the advantage that the internet has given gamers and focusing less on the thing that matters: the games.

Let it go.

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