Opinion: Story is a Waste of Time in Video Games
Jon's essay for losing the TGA 2025 bet.
Once upon a time. A phrase that indicates the beginning of a narrative adventure, and is believed by many to be a requirement in all forms of entertainment. This is not only untrue when it pertains to video games, but also an element that detracts from the overall quality and polish a game can achieve. Video games, unlike movies, TV shows, or books, are interactive systems, not passive narratives. This is what truly separates video games from the other mediums in the entertainment space. The fact that you are in complete control of the actions that are happening defines the genre itself. It is for that reason that stories are not only a waste of time but can actually detract from the elements that matter: player agency, gameplay systems, and ultimately the expression one has through the freedom video games offer.
People play video games to have agency. It is the one space where you have the freedom to control the main character. Sometimes it’s a soldier in an intergalactic war, a purple dragon running around a fantasy land, or a remote-control car redefining one of the oldest sports known to man. Despite who you are controlling you get to do exactly that, control. You want to jump off a cliff just to see if you can? Go for it. Want to challenge yourself by trying to beat the game with one weapon? Knock yourself out. Would you like to devote countless hours to reach the highest rank possible? Good luck. The point is, there is almost no limit to how you can approach most video games, and that is one of the best parts of the experience. Contrast that with a narrative. In traditional storytelling, it depends on control and structure. Each piece is thought out, predetermined, and controlled to ensure you reach the intended vision of the creator. This is in direct conflict with the freedom one should have while playing a game. You can’t have ultimate agency while also getting to a predetermined narrative destination. Therefore, the more story elements and cutscenes, the less freedom and agency a player has. One might ask, “What about choice-based games?” It is a fair question, but play a game that has “choices” enough, and you easily see that in many cases it is simply an illusion.
Let’s take the Mass Effect series as an example. This is a very popular series, with many praising the dialogue options as one of their favorite mechanics of the game. If we are honest with ourselves, do the choices actually matter? Let’s take a look at the first game (Spoiler warning). Two of the most seemingly difficult choices come at the Krogan cloning facility on Virmire. The first one really isn’t that much a choice more so a check to see if your charisma is high enough to save him. Let’s say that you don’t want to or it isn’t high enough. Someone might think, wow, consequences for your actions, but what you end up with is losing one character just to be replaced later. Fast-forward to Mass Effect 2, and instead of anything meaningful changing on Tuchanka, you have some random Krogan as the leader of the tribe instead of Wrex. The story plays out exactly the same: you find out what’s happening to Grunt, whether Wrex is there or not. If the choice mattered, you would be punished for not saving him in the first game. Back to Mass Effect 1, the second choice is saving Ashley or Kaidan. Think about this: whoever you save, the same exact scenario plays out in the next two games. They don’t join you in the second game, and they rejoin your squad in the final game. On top of that, despite those choices, you still beat Saren and “choose” who you want to be the first human counselor, Anderson or Udina. Guess what, in the third game, if you choose Anderson, they completely retcon it to ensure that the story has Anderson leading the resistance on Earth. What if we eliminated all the fake choices in those games and made the shooting and ability mechanics feel good? I believe many would agree that they are the weakest part of those games. What I am attempting to illustrate in that extensive example is that the structures’ stories impose limits on player expression even if there is an illusion of choice involved. Instead, take the original Minecraft. What was that game about? Who cares, you could seemingly build anything and go anywhere. That is the spirit of a video game, and it is no coincidence that it is the best-selling video game of all time. Player agency is what makes gamers feel special.
Much like the previous point, the story directly interferes with gameplay systems. While video games allow freedom, there are established rules put in place for the player to learn and master. The story completely throws these rules and structures out the window. For example, The Last of Us parts one and two have many non-interactive cutscenes. In the game itself, you must learn how to use the various weapons offered to you to take out enemies, utilize the stealth mechanics in the game to sneak past guards, and traverse the environment to get to the next area. These mechanics cease to exist when you are in a cutscene. Instead of using the skills you have been honing, you are reduced to quick time events, simply pressing random buttons that pop up, mashing a single button, or sometimes doing nothing at all, and just watching completely passively. This drastic shift completely changes the dynamic for the player. Cinematic cutscenes strip what the player has been learning throughout the game and either completely simplify it or nullify it altogether. More so, it would be much more meaningful if the player were able to utilize their mechanics to interact with these climactic moments. Look at the Dark Souls series, beloved by many players. In these games, you are always able to directly interact with the enemy using the mechanics, abilities, and equipment you have gained throughout the game. Boss fights are a culmination of all the work you have put in throughout the game. During the highest moments, these games leave the controller in the players' hands as a final test, not an uninteractive movie.
There is another piece of this idea that directly conflicts with it. Ludonarrative dissonance is the idea that a video game’s gameplay mechanics directly contradict the narrative. The best example of ludonarrative dissonance is the Uncharted Series. You have the main character, Nathan Drake, who is supposed to be a charming and good-natured explorer, gunning down hundreds of people without a second thought. This completely shatters any immersion the narrative might be trying to create for the player. Instead, a game like Grand Theft Auto does it correctly. The mechanics in those games are not contradicted by some elaborate story; instead, they are simple, ridiculous, and focus on what truly matters, which is the gameplay. All in all, stories weaken the structure and logic of game systems by forcing events that are outside of the rules. Furthermore, it can completely shatter the narrative it is trying to tell since it does not take into consideration the game mechanics that are already present in the game.
Stories cannot account for emergent play. Take a moment and think about why so many people love sports. Sure, there is an element of incredible skill on display, but I would argue the core reason comes down to the unpredictability. You never know who will ultimately win at the end of the day. That is why comebacks and upsets are so exciting. This concept perfectly applies to video games as well. The greatest moments in video games are unscripted and spontaneous. Stories cannot adapt to the purity of a truly emergent experience. Think about your favorite moment ever in League of Legends. Was it reading the backstories of all the characters? No, it was saving your Nexus 1v5 in a 50-minute game to run down and destroy the other base. No script could accurately capture the chaos, tactics, and skill on display. This applies to any competitive game of your choice. Faker’s 1v1 Zed outplay, S1mple's mid-air no-scope double kill, jstn’s full-field aerial to tie game 7, Daigo perfectly parrying Chun Li’s super art with a pixel of health, or Squirtle’s perfect Archon Toilet to come back from an impossible situation. These aren’t stories. They are legends. They could only be born through the skill, expression, and freedom that games allow. The best writer in the world could never create moments like these because the magic comes from the unpredictability, creativity, and pure mastery of the game itself. It also just means more because there is no predetermined destination; anything can happen. This extends past just competitive games. Think about the best game of Among Us you’ve ever played. When you were able to somehow convince all of your friends that you were innocent, gaslighting them and using how you know they think and their reputations against them. Or embarking on a quest in Sea of Thieves with your friend and inventing new anchor strategies on the spot. Some of the best examples come from MMOs. In World of Warcraft, a contagious debuff from the Zul’Gurub raid caused a massive in-game pandemic resulting in widespread panic and even quarantines. Or in EVE Online, a group of ten players spent ten months infiltrating a rival guild, earning the trust of the CEO. Only to assassinate the CEO, raid the guild’s vaults, and destroy the entire fleet.
In EverQuest, there was a sleeping dragon that was put into the game on each server. The intended purpose was that after specific actions were done, it would wake and rampage through the land, being unkillable. It was a story-based event to reshape the map. However, on the Rallos Zek server (which was a hardcore PVP server), the players banded together and fought the dragon. After 3 hours, the players got the dragon down to almost 25% HP when the Developers stepped in and made it truly unkillable. This perfectly outlines how the vision for a narrative completely ruins this incredible emergent experience. After much protest, they gave the server another chance, reverting the immortal status. After a 4-hour battle, the PVP server that came together defeated the beast. These are some of the greatest and most well-known examples, but for many, the small moments are even more meaningful. Creating unforgettable memories with your friends or even having wild experiences in single-player games are moments that are much more impactful than any story could be.
This argument of Story detracting from the overall experience and potential of video games works both ways. The focus on a narrative in a video game can weaken the impact of the story the creator is trying to tell through the interruption in gameplay. For example, let’s say there is an extremely difficult final boss at the climax of the narrative arc. This boss could take the player many attempts to overcome. At this point, instead of feeling the emotional impact of the conclusion of the story, the player is now solely focused on playing well enough to beat the boss. Their attention and focus are primarily on the gameplay elements. It is a requirement in order to progress the game itself. A recent example of this is the extremely popular Clair Obscur Expedition 33. The story of this game was highly praised for its creativity and emotional impact. I argue, however, that it could not reach its full potential by having the player split their focus on creating their build and improving at the combat mechanics, ensuring they are able to dodge or parry enemy attacks, as this is crucial to being victorious. My podcast host even went on record to say that he wishes this game were a novel instead. He loved the world, characters, and story, but could not focus on these factors as the other elements of the game demanded his attention. To him, those game elements were not as interesting as the story itself. I can’t help but wonder if this game would have reached its full potential and impact if it were in a different medium. This extends to other games as well. The Last of Us fits into this category. The TV show adaptation’s massive success highlights that this property was able to reach new heights when allowed to focus on the storytelling instead of being interrupted by gameplay. The TV show had much greater reach than the video game because it took the best elements of the original idea and put them in the correct medium, allowing it to flourish. Let’s take a look at the other side of this coin. Resident Evil has attempted to adapt to the big screen for years, but has never been successful. This demonstrates that Resident Evil’s focus on gameplay makes it a perfect fit to be a video game. The story and characters are often cheesy and nonsensical, but people love them because the game itself is so much fun to play. Creators who want to tell a story should use a medium where the narrative is the focus. When games try to prioritize the story, they become less effective versions of non-interactive media.
There are many who would argue against the idea that story is a waste of time in video games. They would go even further to say that in some cases, stories are crucial to the overall experience a video game can offer. Even in the examples I have highlighted, one might point out that these games were able to marry gameplay and narrative elements. While it is certainly the case that some games are able to integrate these elements successfully, it will always require sacrifice on one end or the other. There is a compromise that must be made between freedom and story coherence. Look at the most recent God of War games. Many would say this is an example of a game that blends narrative and gameplay very well. If you take a more critical look, however, you will find that in order to make the story work, Kratos must be extremely limited. Plot points need to develop at specific times in order for the story to make sense. This requires a more linear approach, despite Kratos being a God and, in theory, should be able to do almost anything. If you look at the first game, Kratos elects to journey on foot to the tallest peak in order to spread his wife’s ashes. While this makes for a powerful narrative, it comes at the cost of restricting the freedom a player would have. Imagine a player who wants to see the original Kratos tear across the realm in an enraged frenzy. Because there is a clear vision for the narrative and character development, the player does not get this choice. That is not to say the story choices are bad; it is simply to point out that there is a cost associated with this decision.
In a similar vein, those who enjoy narrative-focused games would argue that story gives meaning and emotional impact. People say that stories help connect the player to the characters, worlds, and events that transpire. They may also say that a well-crafted story could provide context and motivation for a player to want to participate in the game’s world. I agree that a good narrative can provide meaning for a piece of media; however, video games are uniquely positioned to create meaning through specific elements only found in this medium. As I have mentioned previously, skill expression in games is one of the most crucial factors in creating an incredibly meaningful experience for the player. You can’t get much better at watching a movie or TV show or reading a book. You may deepen your understanding or enjoyment of them, but it is a passive experience. Contrast that with a video game that has a very high skill ceiling. FPS’s, MOBAs, RTSs, Soulslikes, and platformers these are just some examples of genres that allow players to devote countless hours to improve at the intricate aspects of the game. The beauty is that there is no end point. People will always get better and find new ways to improve. Spyro the Dragon recently had a new World Record. Jordy_925 completed the game 120% in 1 hour, 19 minutes, and 43 seconds. There was a time when people thought it was impossible to get under 1 hour and 30 minutes. Heck, as a kid, I would think it would be impossible to beat it in under 6 hours. Those records have been smashed through the discovery of new shortcuts and the optimization of the movement of the small purple dragon. Imagine if Insomniac tried to make a huge narrative diving into the world and lore of Spyro. There is no chance that the narrative would have been more compelling than the 27-year history of speedrunning the game due to its incredible platforming mechanics. Even with more casual games, meaning is created by player choice, creativity, and skill. Hitman is a great example of this, as you are able to complete a mission in a nearly endless number of ways. These games are not known for any type of impactful narrative; instead, the meaning is created naturally by the player interacting with the great mechanics, options, and freedom the game provides. Ultimately, meaning in games comes from what players do, not what they are told.
At the end of day, if we are being honest, traditional story telling directly conflicts with the core nature of videogames. It detracts from what makes video games fun, memorable, and special. I have outlined how it does this in a variety of ways. First, it limits the players’ agency. As mentioned previously, what truly separates the video game medium from movies, TV shows, and books is that the player is in control. Adding narrative elements to this removes some of that control in order to ensure the plot makes sense and flows as intended. Thus weakening one of the strongest elements video games have to offer. Second, stories disrupt gameplay elements. You spend many hours honing your skills with the gameplay mechanics offered in the game, just to have control ripped away through a cinematic cutscene. Oftentimes, at the most climactic moments, the gameplay can be reduced to simple timed button presses through quick-time events or even a non-interactive cutscene. Not only that, a game’s tone can be at war with itself due to conflicting styles between the gameplay and story. A good-hearted character who has a moral compass, according to the game’s story, can simultaneously kill many people throughout the game, removing the player’s immersion. Last, traditional storytelling cannot adapt or compete with emergent play. I listed many examples of naturally occurring moments that happened due to the player's direct skill or creativity. These moments can’t be scripted; they are so meaningful because they belong to the players and are completely authentic experiences. I will leave you with one final example to illustrate my point. 2024’s game of the year, Astro Bot, perfectly outlines my claims in this essay. You could describe the story in a single sentence. A robot loses its friends and needs to get them back. The focus is on ensuring that the gameplay is fun, responsive, and intuitive. The style and visuals are excellent. The music is incredible. It is a perfect example that if you focus on what truly matters in a video game, you will create an unforgettable experience. When games abandon traditional storytelling, they gain greater player freedom, stronger systemic coherence, and more original forms of meaning and expression. Story is a waste of time in video games.