Why don't people play old games?
These are some jolted down thoughts that I had and I wanted to write down before I forget about them. I've heard the phrase "There are unlimited games, but there are no games." And it also extends to many other fields where it seems there is an abundance of something, yet despite this, people only want to interact with that which is momentous. And this is the perfect way to describe this, these things are momentous; games in modernity are a social event experienced as an extension of the present. That is not to say that all modern games tend to be online and therefore implicitly social, while that is true, you can think of the trend toward online video games as a result from the social desire rather than the other way around. In other words, people are not accustomed or conditioned to social games and therefore creating a social desire, but rather, the social desire which only exists in present discourse pushes video game developers towards live service "ever present" games.
It's not like the past never had good games, in fact, some people would argue gaming has been on a decline in terms of quality; be it in their optimization, monetization or game design. And while this is true, it is also true that the means by which we experience the existence of games themselves has changed — social media pushes us towards the present, it accelerates our perception of the now to the day or weeks. An event happening "now" in the modern days is within days, while in the past, it could have been between weeks; the now is ever so short. In the same way, discourse over older games is hidden due to not being momentous — at least until virality links them to a current momentous stream or trend, thus making them resurface in the public eye.
A good example of this is Janken Game Acchi Muite Hoi! mostly experienced as video clips which fit well with social-media, and instantly catching the attention of cute anime girl enthusiast and retro aesthetic LARP accounts through its visuals. In fact, many games from the past exists sorely through being re-contextualized under the current modern landscape, either as comparison (games used to be/look/feel so good), or extension (roughly fitting some modern aesthetic trend.)
A combination of the obscurity[1] of a game and any appeal to their discourse make older games seem even less momentous, therefore they are less social. But what do I mean by social if I don't mean online? The reality is that games are not only played for the experience of playing the game, people play game to talk about games, to know about them. This is the reason why watching a YouTube video about a game to them is the same as having played it, the interest is not in the act of playing but of knowing; to have a say in the discourse. And while I've been saying discourse, I hope you understand that this does not mean drama. Our ability to exchange socially using the game as a topic is considered desirable, the game being or not polemic has influence over this fact, but it is not a determining attribute.
The strangest thing about this trait, which is the main thing I want to give attention to, is that this desire for the social is entirely illusory. This illusion is the same illusion as the productive property, but instead of it's potential productive force, we instead value it's potential social use. There are no many cases in which we will actually use these games explicitly socially, and even if we do… is such social use even something we should value? If we follow the patterns of trends, it would naturally die down, if we are looking for its sake somewhere else, wouldn't we find ourselves devoid of desire by its lack?
If you are doubtful of the persistence or existence of such patterns, you have to look no further than the obscure game; an object for the purpose of being revealed — those which you may see appear as "The Darkest Game You've Never Played" or "The Obscure RPG No One Knows About." And while this seem to be productive in nature, that is to say, from a productive desire, I believe that this is just the outcome of its revelation. Much in the same way that lost media, once found, becomes nothing but a conversation on the topic of "that which was found."
Of course, we can switch it up and see ourselves the potential productive force (within the game) if we take that stance. For example, we take the video-essayist desire to play the game in so far as they are able to make a video on it, or the dead genre of the Let's Play where play in itself is a productive act. But doing this would do nothing more than seeking another type of desire out of the game… albeit, this one potentially more meaningful to the individual (I am considering all use cases by the average, as for meaning outside of the individual, no such thing exists.)
Do people like video games? Do people like movies or anime? Or do they just like them because they can talk about them, use them for inspiration or otherwise produce something out of them? What about a sense of belonging? The idea of community and the shared present, to feel like one is part of the world, that one is not excluded. How much do we actually like the things we like and how much do we like everything else that is associated with it? Are those LARP accounts more transparent in their transactions than the fanatic[2]? A terrible thought, of course, for those who care about such things.
The obscurity of a propensity towards discourse; most common in games which are not unknown rather than those who are known for being unknown. An "obscure" game from the perspective of the known, which strangely enough, is present more often than not, tends to make games appealing insofar as this property has the appearance of truth.
Now I am pushing you, so to speak, to see of videogames as masturbation or, inversely, as some form of meditation. You can see it however you see fit, I've never said the social or productive desires are intrinsically wrong — just that the unconscious chasing of these social patterns is as illusory as the idea that we should judge, without intent, the prospect of a future product we have not thought of.