For those who endured the hate movement that was known as “Gamergate” in the video gaming world, the 2016 presidential election is like looking into a mirror.
“Gamergate,” as we recognize it now, officially gained traction in 2014 when a young man named Eron Gjoni was dumped by his girlfriend, video game developer Zoe Quinn. Gjoni then wrote a nearly 10,000-word article in which he painted Quinn as a “slut” and a seductress based on her then relationship with a Kotaku video game writer, Nathan Grayson. Quinn was soon awash in thousands of harassing messages and was forced to leave her home out of concern for her safety.
As the harassment campaign grew in size, with more ambitious and outspoken women added as targets, a justification was needed to distract critics. Gamergaters seized on Gjoni’s insinuations that Quinn had exchanged sex for positive game reviews at Kotaku.
There was no evidence of such a thing, but by raising questions, the bigots had their cover story. This was about journalistic ethics, not misogyny. From game critic Anita Sarkeesian to indie game developer Brianna Wu, their targets appeared to be based strictly on the basis of feminist views, not any evidence of unethical behavior.
Media outlets and other gatekeepers were cowed into trying to treat Gamergaters as people with legitimate concerns about corruption, instead of participants in a misogynist witch hunt. But witch hunts often work, especially when media gatekeepers let it happen.
The same has proven true for president-elect Donald J. Trump. Trump and his cronies rail against other social justice warriors who “dare” to think that white men should share power with women and people of color. Like Gamergate’s hateful flame-baiting, Trump’s campaign redrew the line of what is and isn’t allowed to be said in political discourse.
Gamergaters succeeded for months on end with false allegations that Quinn had bought good game reviews with sex. Similarly, Trump ran his campaign on the insinuation that his opponent, Hillary Clinton was hiding some deep, dark secret, lambasting her health or the supposed blame she holds in her husband’s affair.
The same questions about objectivity and political correctness that governed this year’s presidential debates have characterized video game culture in recent generations, from developer Crystal Dynamics’ allusion to sexual assault in its “Tomb Raider” reboot to the cancelled “Six Days in Fallujah,” a 2008 military shooter that was meant to recreate one of the bloodiest battles of the Iraq War.
With Gamergate, the real story was one about misogyny and harassment, but Gamergaters upheld their cause as legitimate grievances and distracted from the real issues at stake.
Young male video game enthusiasts who railed against the press’s preoccupation with money and inflated hype reinforced the idea that they could harass and intimidate the people who shared their hobby. “Gamergate” was no less than an emotional argument about defending personal identities and the status quo. Art reflects life and gamers, like their peers, became part of a vicious, insular game.
For decades, developers have focused on making games fun. It’s about time we started working toward other kinds of emotional responses than instant gratification. Games like “Gone Home” and “Papers, Please” have spoken up for LGBTQIA+ communities and immigration reform. Games can teach, debate, and argue points rather than just entertain. And that need can directly translate to gamer culture at large.
Video games are at risk of becoming the same echo chamber of other media, instruments for reaffirming party lines than challenging them. Series like “Call of Duty” and “Devil May Cry” inundate us with onscreen text like, “Sick!” and “Wicked!” to empower us through superficial score cards and empty vitriol. Games have the chance to create disarming experiences that disassemble our worlds and tell truths.
Gaming can only evolve if and when it embraces the lives of its players. Gamers need to be willing to be challenged, put in uncomfortable situations, and check their personal feelings at the start button so as to facilitate new experiences. That goes for everyone.
Reach columnist Tim Gruver at arts@dailyuw.com. Twitter: @T_TimeForce