In August of this year, a man named Eron Gjoni published a lengthy series of blog posts alleging that his girlfriend had cheated on him with five other men. Gjoni’s ex-girlfriend is the video game creator and developer Zoe Quinn—known for creating Depression Quest, a text-based game about falling into, and recovering from, depression. In his posts, Gjoni insinuated that Quinn had slept with men who worked in games journalism in exchange for favorable reviews of Depression Quest.
Gjoni’s allegations—that Quinn had slept with other men, and that she had done so to receive favorable reviews—proved to be a watershed moment in social media devoted to gaming. Quinn had been subjected to death threats and harassment since her early attempts to publish Depression Quest, and Gjoni’s posts became a reason to attack Quinn. Not long after Gjoni’s posts went public, actor Adam Baldwin (of Firefly fame) gave the group a name: #Gamergate. Gamergate moved swiftly: they ‘doxxed’ Quinn, a practice whereby private information (such as home addresses and telephone numbers) are divulged publicly. Quinn left her home and has been couch-surfing since.
Gamergate declared the moment a victory and then, suddenly, changed its tune. Gamergate decided that it was more than a fringe group harassing a woman for having a messy sex life, the details of which were made public by a childish ex—Gamergate was now a movement, a movement campaigning for ethics in gaming journalism. There are a lot of problems with this line of thinking. Chief among these problems is the fact that the central crux of their argument lies on false information. Nathan Grayson, Gamergate proponents assert, reviewed Depression Quest after starting a relationship with Quinn, a clear breach of journalistic integrity. However, Grayson, a freelance games writer, had only mentioned Depression Quest in passing, weeks before entering into the relationship. Despite multiple articles asserting the fact that Quinn and Grayson were uninvolved at the time of Grayson mentioning the game—within the context of a failed reality show, no less—this incident continues to be brought up by Gamergaters looking to assert the movement’s interest in ethics in gaming journalism.
Quinn is far from the only woman who has been targeted by Gamergate. Brianna Wu, creator of iOS game Revolution 60, and founder of development studio Giant Spacekat, was driven from her home; Anita Sarkeesian, creator of YouTube series “Tropes vs. Women in Video Games,” canceled a talk at Utah State University following threats of a mass shooting; Felicia Day, gaming culture geek-girl darling, was doxxed within fifty minutes of publishing a blog post critical of Gamergate. Despite Gamergate’s continued insistence that their movement is focused around a hope for more ethical games journalism, users on Reddit and 8chan, the social media sites home to most of the movement’s activity, have made statements such as, “I couldn’t care less about vidya, I just wanna punish Quinn.” Gamergate is insistent that it is not misogynistic, however, and it is this insistence that has lead the movement to donate $70,000 to the Fine Young Capitalists’ gaming jam supporting womens’ work in games. It is this involvement that has lead to the most potent image coming from Gamergate’s supporters—an avatar of an ideal female gamer named “Vivian James” (her name a pun on phrase “video games” itself). Vivian James is the subject of most of the popular imagery circulated by Gamergate, her tired eyes and command to “just fucking play games” serve as the female mouthpiece the movement felt it lacked. Vivian James is Gamergate’s own proof that the movement is unproblematic because they invented a woman to speak for them.
To complicate all of this, paired with Gamergate is #Notyourshield, a group of minority and female gamers who insist that Anita Sarkeesian, Zoe Quinn, and Brianna Wu do not speak for them or their interests. Intriguingly and controversially, Jennifer Allaway, a social researcher, wrote an article on Gawker Media site Jezebel asserting that Gamergate is a hate group. Allaway’s assertion is backed by the fact that Gamergate completely lacks a leader, leaving its goals and activities nebulous and hard to define. Gamergate is also built on a myth of a persecuted identity, meaning that Gamergaters believe that they have nothing to lose. It is perhaps this engineering that has lead Gamergate to such terrifying, violent extremes. Perhaps the most fair way to judge Gamergate as a movement is to look at what it has actually addressed and accomplished.
Gaming is fraught with ethical issues—for example Game Informer, the oldest and largest industry publication, is owned by GameStop, one of the largest retailers. Another example: video games are frequently platforms for advertising, including advertising for real-life arms manufacturers. One more issue? The gaming industry rests on some of the most exploitative and problematic labor practices of any creative industry. There are real issues in gaming and real issues in gaming journalism (not the least of which how easy it is to pay people to give a game a positive review, something that YouTube game reviews are coming under fire for). However, instead of addressing any of these, Gamergate has grasped onto the imaginary honeypot presented by Eron Gjoni. “Ethics in gaming journalism” has become the war cry for a group representing a traditionally privileged identity that has driven no fewer than three women from their homes and stripped advertising from two non-traditional game review and media outlets.
Clearly, a more ethical games journalism is just around the bend.