From Concord to Chaos: Why Gaming's Golden Days Are Behind Us
A Sony executive announced this week that they are closing down one of their studios who just launched their first title at the end of August 2024 and subsequently removed from stores and refunded customers after TWO WEEKS.
A game that 8 took years of development and over $200 million dollars invested (some estimates say $400m) for 25,000 copies sold. On Steam, it almost never had more than 1,000 players concurrently playing. Compared to Apex Legends, which according to steamcharts.com currently has >100,000 people playing right now and over >40m active players in the last 30 days.
What went wrong?
“We will take the lessons learned from Concord and continue to advance our live service capabilities to deliver future growth in this area.”
What were the lessons learned here? I really hope they follow through and help the team involved find new placement. Aspiring to be a video game developer was what led me to college, and although my path didn’t lead to a game studio or the next indie hit, I found my place in technology, working alongside incredible development teams. My heart genuinely goes out to everyone who poured their effort into Concord.
Video Games Industry and Movie Industry
There was an interview with Matt Damon on Hot Ones where he said something that really stuck with me and helps me make sense of the disconnect I have with movies now and then (Around the 14:00 minute mark).
Matt Damon was asked his thoughts about those who might be feeling like they just don’t make movies for me anymore. His response is something along the lines that the industries revenue streams have shifted from the physical media sales over long periods of time, to maximizing the profit from the box office. Making big studios way more risk adverse and would much rather bet on a fan favorite or a wide audience appealing story. So with that in mind, think about what you might see on the marquee today: a never ending supply of comic book hero movies, remakes, and unnecessary sequels.
None offer anything new or take any risks.
Now, back to video games - what have we seen in the last decade from a macro-economic viewpoint? The rise of Gaming as a Service (GaaS). With the wild popularity of games like Fortnite, Roblox, and Overwatch, the video game industry has undergone a shift that is almost a mirror image of the movie industry.
Where the movie business has increasingly prioritized box office revenue over long-term physical media sales, the gaming world has moved towards a model focused on downloadable content (DLC), microtransactions, and live service experiences. The goal is to create a constant recurring revenue stream, rather than relying on sales of a finished product.
The effect has been a diminished incentive for studios to deliver polished, fully-realized games at launch. The mentality has shifted towards iterating and updating over time, with the initial release serving as more of a underbaked foundation.
Bringing this back to Concord, I don’t believe its downfall was due to performance issues; there simply weren’t enough players to encounter game-breaking bugs or mechanics. On a high level, I believe the two biggest reasons for its failure were:
A $40 price tag for a live-service game competing in an oversaturated free-to-play (F2P) market offering similar “hero-shooter” gameplay.
Characters and story elements that seemed derivative, as if ripped straight from Guardians of the Galaxy, stuffed with every big-budget comic book trope, almost as if AI-generated.
Nearly every major studio has tried to break into this GaaS model with their own high-budget, "low-risk" ventures, with mixed results:
Anthem (2019) from BioWare
Hyperscape (2020) from Ubisoft
Crucible (2020) from Amazon
Marvel’s Avengers (2020) from Square Enix
Even Star Wars: Hunters, a game built around a beloved franchise, has struggled to differentiate itself in the crowded live service landscape. None of these offerings have managed to capture players' sustained interest or demonstrate meaningful innovation.
None offer anything new or take any risks.
There is one notable exception - No Man's Sky. They promised something new and interesting, an infinite procedurally generated universe. While it faced significant backlash at launch for not delivering on its promises, the developers refused to give up. They continued updating and improving the game based on player feedback, ultimately transforming it into a much more engaging and polished experience. This dedication to listening to the community and iterating over time is a rare bright spot in an industry increasingly focused on short-term profits over long-term creative vision.
The Glory Days
At the risk of sounding cliché and like a grumpy old man, back in my day, games were genuinely fun! I believe there was a golden era when video game technology, creative innovation, and a dedicated player base converged perfectly. A video from the infamous YouTube creator Crowbcat chronicles this period from 2006-2011, focusing specifically on the Xbox 360 library.
Side Note: I call him "infamous" because he's renowned for creating "anti-hype" videos over the past decade. These wordless compilations juxtapose pre-launch media hype with actual gameplay and player responses. His video about Cyberpunk 2077's release encapsulates the sentiments of this entire post - without uttering a single word.
When I reminisce about those golden times, I think about midnight game releases and the magical shared experience of exploring new worlds with friends. Our only limitation was painfully slow DSL internet connections. I acknowledge my nostalgia might be colored by having fewer responsibilities and more disposable income back then. Yet, something fundamental has changed in the gaming experience.
Today's youth are robbed of genuine gaming joy, despite having the most sophisticated technology at their fingertips. It's like some twisted version of the Twilight Zone: incredibly capable consoles and flashy TVs paired with games that are rushed, unfinished, and loaded with microtransactions. These uninspired products are quickly abandoned, with developers immediately pivoted to the next potentially monetizable project.
The modern gaming launch is a total nightmare. Launch day now means:
Downloading a massive update after installation
Creating publisher accounts
Agreeing to endless terms of service and privacy policies
Dealing with crashes and performance issues
Basically becoming an unpaid bug tester
As YouTuber videogamedunkey showed in his recent Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 review, players are now forced into tech support when all they wanted was to have fun. The whole thing is just ridiculous.
Out of Touch Executives
“A possible reason for Concord’s abrupt disappearance was the culture surrounding it. According to the source, toxic positivity plagued the development, not allowing anyone to change or improve what was there.”
The pervasive culture of toxic positivity isn't just confined to tech startups and disruptive industries; it has found its way into game development. This mindset prioritizes unwavering optimism, even at the cost of silencing dissent and critical feedback from those on the ground. In this environment, growth and hype are often seen as the ultimate markers of success, overshadowing the importance of the product itself. It’s a culture where maintaining the illusion of progress becomes more important than addressing flaws or recalibrating expectations.
The disastrous tale of Fyre Fest is the perfect analogy for this dynamic. The festival was sold as an exclusive, luxurious experience that would set a new benchmark for music events. But behind the glossy marketing campaigns and influencer endorsements, there was no real plan in place to deliver on those promises. The event’s spectacular failure highlighted the inevitable collapse that occurs when ambition and image take precedence over execution. When your product is an experience, the facade shatters quickly under the weight of unmet expectations.
This approach might fly in the early days of tech where a platform or app can patch its way to stability, but in game development, where players seek immersive and polished experiences, the cracks show quickly, and vocally.
The "fake it till you make it" culture leans heavily on selling dreams. But when the dream is the product, and that product fails to deliver the experience it sold, the damage goes beyond financial. It impacts credibility, morale, and the trust of both consumers and employees. This is where platforms like Steam Early Access offer a glimmer of hope, providing a model for transparency that some studios are starting to adopt. However, even this can fall victim to the same pitfalls if executives remain disconnected from the realities of development and more invested in positive spin than tangible progress.
A Way Forward
My way forward right now is… going backwards! There are so many games out there that I still haven’t played, brimming with the heart and soul of developers who aimed to create an unforgettable experience. I don’t need a PS5 Pro, an Xbox Series X, or the latest RTX video card for my PC. What I need is a Gamecube, a PlayStation 2, and a Steam Deck.
Steam Early Access, as I mentioned before, offers a promising way for developers to build iteratively and, when done right, fosters an incredible sense of community. But when I think of a true success story, one game stands out: Stardew Valley by ConcernedApe. It’s the complete antithesis of big-budget, soulless cash grabs.
ConcernedApe, a one-person developer, poured everything into this game. Launched in 2016, Stardew Valley continues to receive major updates—version 1.6 was released as recently as March of this year. This isn’t just a 2D pixel-art farming simulator; it’s a labor of love that combines coding prowess with an artistic touch and a deep appreciation for retro games. And it shows. With over 35 million copies sold, this humble game has defied expectations at every turn.
Not only has Stardew Valley made its mark on all major platforms, but it’s also expanded into a board game and inspired live orchestral performances of its music. The community surrounding it has grown organically, fueled by the passion baked into every aspect of the game. You can feel it in the intricate mechanics and the sheer depth of gameplay—an experience born from genuine dedication.
Conclusion (TL;DR)
Concord’s rapid failure should come as no surprise to anyone paying attention to the current state of the video game industry. The shift towards profit-driven models has stifled creativity and left players disillusioned with unfinished, uninspired releases. While major studios chase monetization, the essence of gaming as an art form suffers.
But here’s the good news: we already have an abundance of great games. Retro gaming is thriving, and the indie scene never left—it continues to prove that genuine passion and innovation can still create memorable, heartfelt experiences. The path forward isn’t in chasing the next big budget project; it’s in valuing the games that are built with care and playing those that remind us why we love gaming in the first place.
Here is where I would say, “Now get off my lawn,” but I won’t because I’m not a homeowner, it’s not my lawn. 🙃