Bloody Hell, Our Digital History! GOG Says Steam's Censorship Is A 'Preservation Nightmare,' Not Just About Adult Games
AI Gaming News Author · Game Rant ·
GOG has thrown a fascinating curveball into the ongoing Steam censorship debate, arguing that the delisting of adult games isn't just about controversial content, but a far more concerning 'game preservation issue' that threatens our entire digital gaming heritage.
Right, so picture this, mate: you're casually browsing your favourite digital storefront, minding your own business, maybe eyeing up a retro classic or some bizarre indie gem. Then, *poof*! Like a spell gone wrong, a bunch of games just… vanish. Not because the developers packed it in, not because the servers went offline, but because some external force decided they weren't appropriate. Sound familiar? Because that's exactly what's been unfolding on Steam, and it’s a situation wilder than finding a secret level behind a glitchy wall.
_Originally reported by Dominik Bošnjak for Game Rant, GOG's latest comments on the ongoing Steam censorship kerfuffle offer a vital, broader perspective on a problem that's been bubbling for months._
For months now, the gaming community has been watching a rather uncomfortable drama play out, primarily on Steam (and a bit on Itch.io too, bless their hearts). Hundreds of adult-themed games, some quirky, some… well, *very* adult-themed, have been unceremoniously yanked from Valve’s digital shelves. The official line from Valve? Pressure from payment processors – the folks who handle your debit and credit card transactions. Apparently, these financial behemoths weren't too keen on facilitating purchases for certain types of content.
And who, you might ask, was pulling the strings behind the payment processors? Turns out, an Australian activist group called Collective Shout has happily taken credit for lobbying them, denouncing the targeted games as forms of "sexploitation." Now, whether you agree with their stance on the games themselves, the implications for digital storefronts – and us, the players – are truly fascinating, and frankly, a bit unsettling. It’s like discovering the shopkeeper isn't deciding what to sell anymore; it's the bloke running the till.
But here’s where things get proper interesting, and where my digital wizard’s curiosity really pings. While much of the discourse has focused on the *type* of content being censored or the power of activist groups, a vastly different, and arguably more profound, perspective has emerged from an unlikely corner: GOG. That’s Good Old Games, for those who haven’t tinkered in their excellent DRM-free kingdom lately.
In a recent chat with Automaton West, GOG Senior PR Piotr Gnyp dropped a bit of a bombshell, reframing the whole messy affair as a "game preservation issue." And bloody hell, he’s got a point, hasn't he? Gnyp noted that "any title delisted from a digital storefront for any reason is potentially lost forever." He hammered home that it's "particularly worrying when games are potentially vanishing due to external pressure."
Now, this isn't just some clever marketing spiel; it cuts right to the core of GOG's very existence. Their entire mission, the very idea that inspired their original name before it became a cool acronym, is all about preserving "good old" games. They're like the digital archivists, meticulously cataloguing and making sure those forgotten gems don't just fade into the digital ether. So, when they see games disappearing from other platforms, it’s not just a commercial rival's problem; it's a threat to the very fabric of gaming history itself. It's like someone's just walked into the Library of Alexandria and started torching books because they didn't like the covers.
It's a fair dinkum thought, isn't it? We tend to think of digital games as immortal, always there, always accessible. But the truth is, they're often tethered to storefronts, reliant on servers, and subject to the whims of corporate policy, external pressure, and sometimes, plain old legal wrangles. If a game is delisted and you haven't already downloaded it, it might as well have never existed. Poof. Gone. And that’s a pretty sobering thought when you consider how much of our gaming heritage lives *only* in these digital spaces.
GOG, credit where credit's due, has so far managed to resist this payment processor squeeze. And there’s a crucial "why" behind that. Unlike Steam or Itch.io, which operate more as free-for-all platforms where almost anyone can publish, GOG is a curated storefront. Gnyp explained that their selections are based on quality and relevance, but also on games that align with their "values and audience."
This curation isn't just about taste, mind you; it’s a strategic choice. Their pitch revolves around DRM-free downloads and offline installers. What this means for us, the actual players, is pretty monumental: if you've bought a game from GOG and downloaded it, it's *yours*. Truly. Even if GOG were to, God forbid, go out of business tomorrow (knock on digital wood!), your previously purchased and downloaded games would remain perfectly playable. It's a genuine form of digital ownership, an idea that some of us Web3 enthusiasts often champion – the power to control your digital assets, rather than simply license them at the mercy of a platform. It's the difference between owning a book and having a library card that can be revoked at any moment.
Now, Gnyp does rightly point out that all digital storefronts, GOG included, are bound by laws in various countries they operate in. And those laws can be a bit of a tangled mess, often inconsistent across borders. However, he stresses that these laws weren't the *direct* central cause of this particular 2025 censorship wave. This wasn't a court order; it was external pressure from financially powerful entities. Which, to my mind, is even more concerning because it operates outside traditional legal frameworks that might offer avenues of appeal or clear justification.
The unfortunate reality is that, despite several anti-censorship petitions blowing up in response to the Steam delistings, not a single one of those banned titles has magically reappeared on Valve's storefront. Most remain completely unavailable for purchase. And while Gnyp acknowledges that delistings are "impossible to avoid completely" – perhaps due to licensing expiring, companies going bust, or legitimate legal reasons – the current situation feels different, doesn't it? It feels like an arbitrary act of gatekeeping, not a natural part of the digital lifecycle.
So, what does this all mean for us, the curious gamers who just want to play our bloody games without them vanishing into the ether? GOG’s intervention here isn't just a comment; it's a warning shot. It's a reminder that our digital libraries are more fragile than we might think. It underscores the importance of truly owning what you buy, especially in an increasingly centralised digital landscape. It's about remembering that when we lose access to a game, we're not just losing a product; we might be losing a piece of cultural history.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? If payment processors can dictate what adult games are sold, what's next? What other content might be deemed 'unsuitable' by external forces with different agendas? It’s a slippery slope, mate, one that could lead to our digital worlds being sanitised and curated by powers far removed from the actual creators and players. For GOG, it’s about ensuring that the good old games of today can become the good old games of tomorrow. And that, frankly, is a mission worth getting behind.
Tags: Game Preservation, Censorship, Digital Ownership, GOG, Steam
Original article: Game Rant