I won’t say that the current political climate made toxicity in online gaming worse. After all, I have no proof. The subjective nature of such a statement ignores a wealth of factors that go into the pure vitriol found in literally every game with an online component.
And yet, I feel comfortable stating that the empowerment of hatred in all forms didn’t make gaming a safer, nicer space. And if you’re wondering why the video games guy is bringing up something that sounds like frivolous complaining, then you’re not seeing the wealth of anger and rage that comes along with playing online. It doesn’t take long to see it.
“Gonna finally deport all you illegals for good!” read one message this week in the open chat room that appears upon loading up Activision-Blizzard’s popular online shooter Overwatch. The “white chat” — called so because of its text color — is a toxic slug-spewing hose that is both predictable and unavoidable. Online interactions with random players last week got especially virulent as the crescendo that is this year’s Presidential election came to pass.
Honestly, the aforementioned anonymous message is one of the least aggressive instances of hate and intolerance I saw this week. Many, indeed, are not fit to print. And this doesn’t take into account the many multitudes of harassing voice chat that goes on in Overwatch, Valorant, and just about every online game that lets players communicate.
You might be asking why anyone still plays these games online if the price of admission appears to be dealing with a never-ending stream of trash. For many, including myself, it’s just the cost of doing business. I love competitive gaming and have experienced a wealth of nastiness for over a decade. That said, I have the luxury of being a white, straight, middle-class man who is never the intended target of direct abuse and harassment. Many are not this privileged and often must go it alone.
My wife, for example.
I’ve talked a lot about her in the seven years I’ve been writing this column. Rachel is strong-willed, tenacious, and quite honestly, one of the best gamers I know. To this day I still can’t beat her in a full set of Virtua Fighter. Her skill at playing a tank class in Overwatch puts mine to shame. And yet, this woman who I love and respect for her enduring spirit has opted out of the darker corners of competitive gaming.
And why would I blame her? Women are an automatic target the second their microphones get turned on in online gaming. Check out YouTube for an endless stream of videos showcasing the anger and disgusting comments women get while gaming online, as it isn’t a series of isolated incidents. Women have it even worse in games like Overwatch because they get automatically pegged for roles by online jerks with narrow worldviews. A number of my gaming journalism mutuals have been told they either needed to play support — the healers and backline of an Overwatch team — or get back in the kitchen.
There’s no reasoning with that kind of abuse. Especially as it is abuse defended by the dual shields of anonymity and phrases like “Why are you so sensitive? It’s only a game.” Long have developers had to balance the need to keep their games open and safe for all audiences while also not denying its biggest customers of their need to be catered to like obstinate children. This is why there’s a reporting system in almost every game, but rarely does it do any good.
Instead, it’s up to players to police themselves, which becomes tiring if I’m being honest. I’ve been in matches playing with gay and trans friends who immediately are attacked — or, as soon as they make an in-game mistake, strangers on your team who sounded perfectly normal seconds before then turn into rage monsters, using every slur in the book. Then, almost on cue, they throw the game away with intentional poor play. A never-ending cycle.
There is no winning. No fix. And solace. To paraphrase the 1983 shlock film classic WarGames, “The only winning move is not to play.” And, to be frank, that sucks. This is why I can’t fully place the blame on online toxicity on something easy like the election of Donald Trump. After all, it was merely an event that empowered a problem that was already present. All any of us can do is protect the most vulnerable people, speak up against hatred, and meet such disgust where it stands.
Sometimes you do come out on the other side. During a losing Overwatch game this week, a player in voice chat casually began calling me more unprintable words after a mistake that cost us the win. I spoke up and told him that’s a terrible way to treat someone who is trying their best and he apologized, almost caught off-guard by being challenged. I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say he was having a bad day.
Usually, though, it’s not simply a bad day, but a woefully unhappy person who can’t find better ways to take out their frustrations than on the anonymous punching bag before them. We all need to do better.
Contact William Harrison at DoubleUHarrison@gmail.com or on Twitter @DoubleUHarrison.
First Published November 12, 2020, 11:00 a.m.
