Alter Christus: The Cult of Video Game Personalities and Why it Has Got Out of Hand:

When we take a look at the state of the gaming industry in 2025, briefly (but very shamelessly) ignoring the layoffs happening every day, we can see that the market is becoming ever so flooded with the same games, over and over. It seems most evident to me that the everlasting ouroboros of sequels and remakes will not end until our consumerist behavior impacts their revenues. 

Then why is it that we cannot get freed by this chokehold that suffocates creativity and stifles experimentation with new visions that defy the status quo?

I started deep diving on the Internet to better understand what kind of digital tribes and collectives were formed in the previous decade to better comprehend the shenanigans of what is deemed worthy of being idolatrized in the video game industry. And just like the Pagan Gods have had their followers, I myself came across the ineluctable and omnipresent present-day Gods’ of video games: Gabe Newell, Hidetaka Miyazaki and Hideo Kojima. 

This Triptych of the ludic Pantheon has been mentioned so many times by gamers that even The Oracle of (Kevin) Bacon network falls hopelessly short compared to the ubiquity of mentions of each one of these personalities. 

 

Now, I have to disclose that, as much as I enjoy these people as game designers and company CEOs and I agree that they have massively contributed to the video game world, I do not condone the fact that they have been elevated as Alter Christus figures. Gabe Newell recently bought a brand new $500M Yacht (I guess that’s what happens when you have a monopoly). Kojima got praised by an ecstatic crowd of fans, in some very out of fashion prima donna behaviour, at Lucca Comics during the last leg of his Death Stranding 2 tour. Does it look like we are judging their behaviour critically, or just affirming their successes as part of some mass-induced emotional affect transfer response? 

This issue poses more than a problem in the industry, with more and more people getting tangled within the narrative that they are some form of magnanimous deities that bless us with their guidance and show the way to the gardens of Eden. The truth is far from that; the charismatic authority that these personalities emanate works just like Midas’ touch in the optics of their fans.

These sorts of para-social relationships form skewed misconceptions of the qualities that people have, their work (often flawed) becomes glazed over to the point that every bug and piece of faulty game design is justified (yes, Lost Izalith and Blighttown, I’m talking about you). Moreover, their creative vision overshadows the work that the development team has put effort into. When the myth of the lone genius becomes the industry’s preferred narrative, it distorts both expectations and labour. This idolisation doesn’t remain confined to fan communities but also feeds directly into the industry’s preferred narrative of the auteur, elevating a single creative above the collaborative reality of game development. 

Once this idea forms, it becomes easier for companies to justify harmful production practices that are deemed as necessary sacrifices, rather than poor planning or unrealistic goals for games. The crunch of labour becomes a liturgy, burnout a martyrdom. Obfuscated by the fumes of frankincense, the litany continues and the result of the cycle leads to risk-averse and proven formulas, trying to replicate previous successes–and yet neither the industry nor the players seem to care. The leaders continue stepping into familiar territory and taking no risks whatsoever to push the boundaries of what video games are. 

This is also linked to the fact that the gaming industry is over-saturated with content. On average, 54 games are released on Steam every day and, faced with overwhelming choice, players paradoxically gravitate around the familiar titles that offer stability and community. This means that top games, like GTA 5, CS:GO and Stardew Valley, receive the most playtime. I’m not judging the genuine worth of these products (and neither should you) but is this all that there is to the gaming industry? These games, like most other popular titles, rely on online play and leeching as much time as they possibly can. Games become a post-sacred temple that offers security, demands your time, and convinces you to give it over to it, willingly. What are we leaving behind that is not getting the recognition and success they deserve? 

As a consequence of the “liquid society” we live in, we seek fleeting pleasure from consumption. Relationships, love, media–Steam sales for a game at 90% discount become the path of least resistance to the dopamine rush. We don’t need to play the games; we just need to own them or, rather, to get a license for them. This preference for rapid consumption leaves no time to play weird, experimental works that require attention rather than acquisition. This claim has been reinforced by recent statements from Matt Booty (head of gaming at Xbox) who said: “our biggest competition isn’t another console… we are competing more and more with everything from TikTok to movies”.

Experimental, indie and even AA games get their market share devoured by the bigger fish in the tank. The market’s monopoly determines which games are worthy of being sold (those deemed easier selling better), and art and creativity gets lost in the pit of the ever-growing number of releases. This imbalance raises an urgent question: if innovation isn’t coming from the top, and the middle is being crushed, where can meaningful artistic growth come from?

So what can we do to fight this game innovation drought? We can start by rewarding risk-taking design, engaging with games outside our comfort zone and supporting financially smaller studios. I believe that video games have yet to express their full potential and that their growth as a medium will be driven by a bottom-up approach from small studios with well-crafted ideas (take a look at the 2025 Game of the Year candidates).

Whether you agree or not, it is evident that the industry isn’t thriving on a human level and there has to be a change. If you’re interested in discovering smaller titles that do not have powerful PR machines behind them, this list of curators consistently recommend smaller titles that push creative boundaries:

• Hidden Indie Gems is a list dedicated to overlooked indie treasures, focusing on bringing visibility to high-quality, niche titles that often slip through Steam’s commercial cracks.

• Surreal and Creepy Games is a guide to the Weird and Eerie, spotlighting survival horror and atmospheric experiences with mature plots. 

• Hidden Gem Discovery focuses on experimental, mid-range, and niche indies and the list spans everything from text-based narrative adventures and “weird” exploration to psychedelic, low-poly PS1-style experiences.

• Weird Games For Your Pleasure spotlights games featuring unusual plots, bizarre graphic styles, and mechanics that defy traditional gameplay.

• Summit Reviews is a curation project focused on discoverability, helping players navigate the vast Steam catalog by highlighting titles with specific, unique features and innovative gameplay that deserve more than a passing glance.

Also, this short list of five games is a recommendation of titles to play that have something unique and not seen in commercial titles: 

• All Living Things is a striking stop-motion puzzle game inspired by 15th-century alchemy. The gameplay features digitally sculpted claymation aesthetics where players solve tactile puzzles to unlock the secrets of a mysterious manuscript.

• Dread Delusion, an open-world RPG with a lo-fi, retro 3D aesthetic. Set on floating islands in a shattered world, it prioritises exploration, magic, and social skills over traditional combat, offering a trippy, unconventional fantasy experience.

• PROXIMATE is dread-fuelled with an emphasis on narrative where players navigate a deep-sea lab using an unreliable AI visor while unearthing tragic queer stories.

• Your amazing TGotchi challenges players to care about a green anime girl! featuring multiple endings that explore themes of neglect, control, and bleak psychological loops.

• Flawless Abbey challenges players to interpret the role of the Dreamseeker, delving into cosmic debates with swotty dolls while traversing a hand-crafted fairytale world. 

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Additional Sources: 

Bauman, Zygmunt. Consuming Life. Polity, 2007.

Zillmann, D. (1983). Transfer of excitation in emotional behavior. In J. T. Cacioppo & R. E. Petty (eds.), Social psychophysiology: A sourcebook. New York: Guilford, pp. 215–240.

Cover Image: Stigmatisation of St Francis by Giotto di Bondone