De campagne Stop Killing Games heeft in Europa de grens van 1 miljoen handtekeningen overschreden, maar grote uitgevers zoals Ubisoft en Activision Blizzard hebben hun bezorgdheid geuit dat de voorstellen voor gamebehoud de ontwikkeling van spellen onbetaalbaar zouden maken. Deze beweging, gestart door YouTuber Ross Scott, vraagt uitgevers om games speelbaar te houden, zelfs nadat de ondersteuning is stopgezet. Dit werd aangewakkerd door het besluit van Ubisoft om de servers van The Crew te sluiten, waardoor de toegang tot de game voor zowel multiplayer als singleplayer werd opgeheven. De discussie rond het behoud van games is belangrijk voor de consumentenrechten in de EU, en de organisatie pleit voor verandering terwijl het gesprek over deze zorgen aanhoudt.
Waarom is het belangrijk om games speelbaar te houden na ondersteuning door de uitgever?Het is cruciaal omdat spelers recht hebben op toegang tot de producten die ze hebben gekocht, en het behoud van games bevordert een cultuur van waarde en respect voor digitale eigendommen. Daarnaast versterkt het de consumentenrechten en zorgt het ervoor dat spellen niet verloren gaan na een bepaalde periode.
Stop Killing Games richt zich op een relevant probleem dat steeds urgent wordt naarmate meer online-only games uit de roulatie worden genomen. Vorig jaar besloot Ubisoft de servers van The Crew te beëindigen, wat leidde tot een publieke verontwaardiging. De game was oorspronkelijk ontworpen als online ervaring, en toen de servers werden gesloten, verloren spelers toegang tot hun aangekochte content. Deze situatie illustreert de bredere implicaties van het sluiten van servers en de impact op de game-ervaring voor gebruikers.
Casey Loh
Casey Loh is a tech-savvy writer who specializes in the intersection of gaming and technology. With a background in computer science, Casey brings a technical lens to her reviews, breaking down the nuts and bolts of game engines, graphics, and AI innovation.
Lees meer artikelen van Casey LohTrending Nieuws
Reacties
Man, it's wild that in 2024 we're still fighting for the basic right to keep playing games we paid for. Publishers acting like game preservation is some impossible feat when indie devs have been nailing it for years.
Kinda sus that publishers cry 'too expensive' about keeping games alive while charging $70 for titles packed with microtransactions. Maybe repurpose some of those FIFA Ultimate Team profits
Always-online DRM strikes again – The Crew getting Thanos-snapped proves why this movement matters. Gamers aren't just buying products anymore, we're renting disappointment.
600k verified signatures or not, this petition's got more momentum than a speedrunner's any% glitch. Wonder if publishers will finally listen or just pull an 'error 404: accountability not found'.
Ubisoft really out here making the best case for physical media in 2024. Next they'll tell us the cloud versions of games are 'more cinematic' when the servers die.
Publishers: 'Preservation is too hard' Meanwhile, the entire ROM-hacking community: *already fixed your abandoned games for free*.
The Crew getting bricked is like buying a Blu-ray that self-destructs when the studio remakes the movie. But sure, tell us more about how 'you'll own nothing and be happy'.
Game preservation shouldn't be a Kickstarter stretch goal – it should be the bare minimum. Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' only applies to consumer-friendly features.
Watching publishers argue against preservation while selling 'remastered' versions of old games is peak capitalism. Can't wait for the $70 'The Crew Legacy Edition' in 2026.
Always-online single-player games are the printer ink of gaming – designed to fail so you'll buy the next one. This movement's the equivalent of refillable cartridges.
Ubisoft really out here treating games like live service fidget spinners. 'Oops, trend's over – delete the game' Meanwhile, people still out here playing Ultima Online on private servers.
Petition might not be perfect, but a million voices (even if some are bots) sends a clearer message than any corporate PR speak about 'player-first experiences'.
Remember when games shipped finished and you could lend them to friends Pepperidge Farm remembers. This movement's trying to bring back that basic decency.
Publishers: 'Keeping servers up is impossible' Also publishers: *runs MMOs for 20+ years when there's a subscription fee involved*. We see you.
The Crew getting Thanos'd is just modern gaming's version of 'Sega Channel' – except now we're paying full price for temporary access. Progress
Game preservation shouldn't be a radical idea – it's literally just asking companies not to burn books after they stop selling them. But sure, call us unreasonable.
Watching this debate is like seeing Blockbuster argue against DVD ownership in 2004. History's gonna judge these publishers harshly.
Always-online DRM is the gaming equivalent of a landlord who changes your locks monthly. This movement's basically the digital tenants' union.
Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' never applies to executive bonuses or shareholder dividends – just to features that benefit players. Priorities
The fact that abandonware sites do better preservation than billion-dollar publishers is the most hilarious indictment of this industry. Keep fighting the good fight.
Ubisoft really out here treating games like Snapchat stories – poof, gone forever. Maybe next they'll charge us for 'game memories' NFTs.
Petitions might not change much, but watching corporations scramble to justify anti-consumer practices is its own kind of entertainment. Popcorn.gif
Remember when games had LAN play as a backup plan This movement's basically asking for the digital equivalent of that basic foresight.
Publishers: 'You wouldn't download a car.' Gamers: 'We wouldn't have to if you didn't keep crushing the ones we bought.'
The Crew getting Thanos-snapped is the gaming equivalent of your Kindle books disappearing because Barnes & Noble closed. But sure, 'you own it', guys.
Game preservation is the hill to die on – because if we don't, entire chapters of gaming history will literally disappear at corporate whim. Screenshot this tweet.
Watching publishers argue against preservation while selling 'classic editions' is like a chef saying food expiration dates are tyranny... while selling vintage canned goods.
Always-online single-player is the gaming equivalent of a 'check engine' light that bricks your car. This movement's basically asking for an offline mode – revolutionary
Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' preservation is, but somehow keeping loot box algorithms running in dead games isn't. Almost like... it's about control, not cost
The fact that we need a movement to stop publishers from killing paid products says everything about modern gaming's broken priorities. Press F for consumer rights.
Ubisoft out here treating games like Fortnite emotes – 'vaulted' forever unless there's profit in unvaulting them later. Capitalist preservation at its finest.
Petition signatures might get questioned, but nobody's doubting the sea of angry Reddit threads and refund requests. The vibes don't lie.
Remember when 'buying a game' meant actually owning it This movement's trying to restore that crazy concept before it becomes ancient history.
Publishers: 'Preservation is impossible' Meanwhile, the Internet Archive: *exists*. Almost like it's about willingness, not ability.
The Crew situation proves always-online DRM is just corporate separation anxiety – they can't stand the thought of players enjoying things without supervision.
Game preservation shouldn't be a charity case – it should be the bare minimum expectation when we're paying premium prices. Change my mind.
Watching this debate is like seeing music labels argue against MP3s in 1999. Spoiler: History sides with accessibility every time.
Always-online requirements are the gaming equivalent of a restaurant that takes back your meal after you've paid. This movement's saying 'let us finish our damn food'.
Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' never applies to Denuvo licenses or CEO yacht payments. But keeping games running Suddenly we're counting pennies.
The fact that emulation communities preserve games better than their creators tells you everything about where the real passion lies in this industry.
Ubisoft treating games like seasonal decor – 'Oops, it's March, time to yeet The Crew into the sun' – is why this movement matters.
Petitions may not force change, but they sure make great ammo for the inevitable class action lawsuits. *taps forehead*
Remember when games had physical media that couldn't be remotely disabled This movement's fighting for that level of basic consumer protection in digital spaces.
Publishers: 'You'll own nothing and be happy.' Gamers: 'How about we try owning some things and see how that feels first'
The Crew getting Thanos'd isn't an outlier – it's the inevitable result of treating games as services rather than art. Preserve the art.
Game preservation is the hill to die on because without it, we're just renting cultural artifacts at corporate whim. Screenshot this for future museum exhibits.
Watching publishers argue against preservation while selling remakes is like a painter burning originals to sell prints. The grift is transparent.
Always-online DRM is the gaming equivalent of a landlord who enters your apartment weekly to check you're using the furniture 'correctly'. Creepy and unnecessary.
Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' preservation is, but somehow keeping dead games' cash shops running isn't. Almost like... monetization drives decisions
The fact that museums care more about game preservation than publishers do should be a wake-up call. But nah, let's chase those quarterly profits instead.
Ubisoft out here treating games like limited-time McDonald's sauces. 'Oops, promotion's over – flush the remaining stock' Gamer culture in 2024, folks.
Petition might not be perfect, but it's more accountability than we usually get from an industry that treats players like ATMs with controllers.
Remember when games had offline installers that worked forever This movement's trying to bring back that level of basic software ownership.
Publishers: 'You wouldn't download a car.' Gamers who've had purchased games deleted: 'At least the downloaded one would still exist.'
The Crew situation isn't just about one game – it's the canary in the coal mine for digital ownership. Time to demand better before everything goes always-online.
Game preservation shouldn't be radical – it's literally just asking companies not to destroy products people paid for. The bar is underground at this point.
Watching this debate is like seeing DVD manufacturers argue against library lending in 2001. Short-term greed versus long-term cultural value.
Always-online requirements are the gaming equivalent of a bookstore that burns your purchased novels if they stop selling them. Absurd when you say it out loud.
Funny how 'prohibitively expensive' never applies to marketing budgets or executive retreats. But letting players keep what they bought Suddenly it's impossible.
The fact that piracy often provides better preservation than legal purchases is the most damning indictment of modern gaming's broken systems. Fix it.
Ubisoft treating games like disposable fashion is why this movement matters. Not everything needs to be a damn Fortnite