The Tangible Benefits of Physical Video Games

Portable. Digital. Cloud-saves.

These are all buzz words used in contemporary gamer culture.

In my circle of influence, I have come across a considerable amount of people who hold the bragging rights to owning hundreds (and in some cases, thousands) of game titles in their Steam account.

And yet still many more of my gamer friends, while they might not have a staggering amount of games that will take a lifetime to complete, still purchase games digitally.

“It’s convenient,” they say. “Cloud saves are the future.”

They might be right.

But then there’s me.

Some years back, a great throwback platformer known as Shovel Knight was a resonding Kickstarter success. And as most crowd-sourced games go (unless the title of your game is Star Citizen), Shovel Knight was eventually released. The game was made readily available to gamers everywhere on the platform of your choice. You name it: Playstation, Nintendo 3DS, your old Sharp toaster – you had a slew of options to choose from to play Shovel Knight.

That is, if you were a fan of digital games.

I’m not a fan of digital games.

No, quite the opposite. In fact, the only reason I about downloaded Shovel Knight onto my 3DS was because there was no foreseeable other way to play this gorgeous platformer, so I nearly capitulated. Shortly before I gave into the temptation of the digital download, however, I haphazardly Googled the title, and realized — hallelujah! The game was to be released as a hard copy.

In nine months.

And you know what I did? I waited nine months to purchase the game in cartridge form.

I delayed my gratification for that long just so I could get my hands on that tangible copy of Shovel Knight.

This is definitely a more extreme example of my infatuation with tangible copies of video games, but still something that I actually underwent.

I love me my hard copies of games. I would venture to say this love very possibly stemmed from my younger days as a gamer, when I received my very first console in the Christmas of ‘98: the Super Nintendo.

Fast forward a few years, and the hobby (some would say obsession) has only gotten worse. With 1,500+ games across over 20 different consoles, my hard copy game collection far outweighs my digital game collection by probably about 100 to 1.

Literally, Age of Empires III is the only game I can think of that I actually own digitally. Perhaps Roller Coaster Tycoon.

Why? Why do I take so much pleasure in having these games fill up so much undue space in my bedroom, bookshelves, game studio, and laundry baskets?

There’s a number of reasons, really.

Firstly, I simply LOVE box art and labels. I’m by no means a connoisseur of fine art, and you likely won’t find me on a river boat in Sicily with a glass of wine in hand speaking affluently about Sega Genesis box sleeves.

However, there is a certain amount of mystery and intrigue surrounding game art, particularly retro game cartridges, where half the time you had no idea what the game was by simply looking at the artwork.

But man, for the most part, did they look sweet.

Another reason I enjoy collecting hard copies of games is because it feeds into my knack for being a pack rat.

Ever since I was a young tyke, I’ve had the predisposition to amass things of a similar category.

In the beginning, it was Hot Wheels. I think I recall having about 150 die-cast cars at one point.

Legos was the next big step.

It hurts to think about how much of my hard-earned dollars was spent on new sets to eventually be added to large Rubbermaid tote boxes. It hurts even more when I remember how little of an ROI I received when I sold those Lego sets years later.

Then it was comic books. Through lots of garage sales and lucky Craigslist findings I somehow accumulated around 10,000 books scattered amongst 30 long boxes. (and at the time of this post, they are still sitting around gathering dust. If you know someone interested, send them my way pls).

Then we come across the topic of interest: video games. I don’t think there was ever a period where I wasn’t actively adding to my gaming collection, but there were definitely some phases where game acquisition was in overdrive. But glancing around at my collection, there is something rather awe-inspiring about seeing a library of games. Games that you can pick up and admire – not quite the same feeling (in my humble and biased opinion) as sifting through cover arts in one’s Steam account.

Don’t worry, not all of my reasoning for why I like tangible titles is simply based on “they look awesome.” There’s also an actual pragmatic thesis behind why I’m such an advocate for these versions of games: the shareable aspect.

Microsoft is not always known for being the best at promoting their video game products. Back in 2013 during the nation’s largest gaming convention, E3, the tech brand unveiled their Xbox One, along with some very convoluted information around how game sharing went. There was even some odd feature where the Xbox user would have to log in once a day to validate their ownership of the game.

Then along comes Sony, the sly fox.

They released a hilarious twenty-second video in response a few days later, showing how easy it was to share games on their new Playstation 4 system.

As simple as handing the disk to your buddy.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a large company pivot so quickly in the face of utter humiliation. Microsoft made the smart choice to rescind those ridiculous game sharing policies, but the damage had already been done.

People like sharing games with others, and this has been a core tenant of gaming since, well, video games have existed.

That’s a huge reason why I will always advocate the hard copies of games. The shareable factor. And not only that, it is with relative ease that I can transport the game to a friend’s house and play it there. Sure, there are a handful of games that allow for sharing online, but by and large I find it simply easier to bring the cartridge along and play it in their console. Rather than the alternative of monkeying around with online settings for an hour trying to figure out how to share the game online.

I’d say that’s likely the reason I am in love with the Nintendo Switch so much. Not only is the console extremely portable, but I can just bring the game cartridge along and play it on a friend’s system.

Special shout-out to Nintendo, for choosing to stick with cartridges for this console generation.

The final — and objectively most important — reason for my undying love for tangible games is the visceral factor. Something about inserting that cartridge into the game console slot is just so cool.

The plastic. The cartridge insertion. The motion and satisfying sound of the console switch turning on.

It’s almost sensual.

To me, nothing quite compares to looking through a pile of game cartridges (or disk cases) and admiring every facet of the object.

From the aforementioned cover art, to the manual, to the well-worn exterior that usually accompanies a retro game — there is just so much personality that is imbued in a tangible game. I still get a kick out of selecting a random NES title from my collection I’m not familiar with, poring over the label art, and testing it out. Only to find the game is nothing like the cover art.

But that’s half the fun, right?

True, I might be a Luddite in the most classic sense. I’m resistant to change in the currents of gaming, wishing disks and cartridges remain a mainstay for all of perpetuity.

Sadly, I do acknowledge the all-digital future for video games is imminent, very possibly in the next decade.

But even when humanity has largely adopted Black Mirror-esque brain implants to play video games directly from their minds, you will find me hiding away in a nuclear bunker somewhere.

Super Nintendo hooked up to a generator.

Bowl of cool ranch Doritoes within reach.

And me, playing with a tangible controller hooked up to a tangible game console.

That, I don’t see changing anytime soon.