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The GMAs fiasco is an abomination — not just for the act itself, and what it says about games journalism, but for how the guilty have actually doubled down. This cavalier embrace of quid pro quo is entirely foreign to me, being of a traditional journalism background. As the editor for an electrical engineering trade magazine, I wouldn't last a day with such lax journalistic integrity.
The journos at the Games Media Awards (GMAs) who tweeted a hashtag in exchange for a PS3 have cast a renewed — and unflattering — look at games journalism. They’ve exposed a culture that tolerates — and even encourages — quid pro quo, that increasingly blurs the lines between advertorial and editorial, and that which has flimsy standards, if any.
Accepting freebies in exchange for tweeting a hashtag is not a form of advertising, as some have suggested. It’s graft, pure and simple. It’s selling one’s integrity — and any pretense of unbiased objectivity — for personal gain. I could never do this.
In my field, we deal with many of the same moral quandaries as games journalists, and the opportunity for graft is always there. Since our industry is 100% ad-supported, the temptation is to pander to clients.
We get regular offers to fly us around the country (or world) for preview events. I've gone to a couple of these press junkets and they pamper us, put us up in the finest lodging, and serve us the most exquisite food.
We deal with friendly, personable (and often highly attractive) PR reps whose job includes making me — and those like me — happy. A colleague of mine refers to them, accurately, as “sirens.”
These PR reps lavish fancy gifts upon us (especially around Christmastime), cater to our every need, and do whatever is necessary to ensure that we leave with a favorable impression of their client.
Four years ago, when I was making my bones in publishing, I went on a European press junket that involved a tour of the Ferrari data facility, four-star restaurants, and a day to explore scenic Bologna, Italy. Value to the reader? Zero.
Nowadays, I don’t accept gifts or go on press junkets unless it’s an important industry event — and in most of those cases, my company foots the bill. I only accept review samples if I plan on reviewing it. The hardware, software, or peripheral must be necessary for the performance of my job.
But when are freebies or swag ever necessary for the job? How could they not unduly influence our judgment, and if not, give the appearance of bias?
I work in a culture that wouldn’t tolerate the blatant quid pro quo that transpired at the GMAs. Accepting a gift like a PS3 in exchange for selling my integrity would get me fired. Despite all the temptations that PR reps and salesmen lay before my feet, we have safeguards in place and a way of doing business that precludes outright graft.
You’d never find a parallel within my industry to E3, where “journalists” (those on the floor, anyway) compete to see who can collect the most swag. Christmas gifts (i.e., unsolicited presents) are acceptable, but we never request freebies or enter contests sponsored by the same vendors we’re supposed to objectively cover.
And if one of my colleagues suffered a lapse in moral judgment — and rest assured, many have — he wouldn’t have the temerity to defend his actions, enabling the culture of corruption.
I also come from a traditional journalism background that encourages critical evaluation and a healthy division between editorial and sales. It’s the media’s job to report the news dispassionately, objectively, and without the appearance of bias.
But the GMA fiasco — and the culture it has exposed — embodies the stereotype of the “enthusiast press”: fanboys (and girls) who treat their subjects like rock stars and consider freebies the “cost of doing business.”
A couple years back, GamePro alumni AJ Glasser wrote a highly influential piece, “No Cheering in the Press Box,” that discussed this broken culture. She described the infamous Project Natal press event, where games journalists became elaborate props in a Cirque du Soleil performance. And when Microsoft gave a free X-Box 360 to everyone who attended their press conference, the journalists dutifully clapped like trained seals.
Glasser notes that “By behaving like fans at press events, we invite the developers and publicists to treat us as fans and not as professionals.”
Is it any wonder that international gaming corporations treat the press like extensions of marketing? When the media acts like fans and journalists negotiate away their integrity for free toys, it condemns the entire profession.
The more responsible outlets (such as GamesBeat) will disclose to the readers when they receive free hardware or software — even if these items constitute a necessary job function. Absent those assurances, readers could rightfully assume that journalists — whom they depend upon for unbiased information — are bought and paid for. And for good reason.
If games journalists act like extensions of marketing, then they become superfluous middlemen. Without an ounce of integrity, a games journalist is nothing more than a privileged fan.