I meant to plug this yesterday. Whoops. Anyway, Georgia State University is doing a survey called Daughters of the Revolution: Females Born in the ’70’s & Early ’80’s, Writing, and the Digital Revolution. It’s for American women born between 1970 and 1985. If you qualify, I urge you to go take it. I know I did.
Via Netwoman.
The Center for Biological Reform was invited to my school on Tuesday and Wednesday by Western for Life, my university’s anti-choice club. They put up a display comparing abortion to genocide in the center-most public area of campus. There were signs that read, “Warning, Genocide Ahead,” but the area is difficult to avoid and many students told me they proceeded expecting something about a real genocide.
I took a few pictures of the displays. They are graphic and probably not work safe, so you may want to skip this post if you’re not up for being in a bad mood.
I took these pictures on the second day. On the first day, there were small children behind the barricade, in the sun, and infants being carried by women.
I know this installment was supposed to be about the greater “boy’s club” of gaming, but getting a new gaming group here has brought some more personal issues to the forefront. In particular, being “one of the boys” (but not really). You see, I can never be “one of the boys” because, well, I’m not a boy. Or a male. Or so much male identified, although I tend to fit more into “masculine” gender roles than “feminine” ones. I am female, and that’s enough to set me apart because my main gaming group consists of two men.
I know of two women here who like games, but I haven’t had a chance to have them over to play yet (one of them was supposed to come Saturday, but apparently her previous engagement went long, so she didn’t make it). It also doesn’t help that the guys I game with live in my building, whereas the women I want to game with don’t. For reasons that I want to explore, it seems harder for me to form primary gaming communities with women. I could brush it off here as random obstacles — physical distance, language barriers (the men are American, the women are Taiwanese), etc — but, I think it goes deeper than that.
Do the sexes game differently? Is my inability to game “like a woman” what keeps me out of primarily female gaming environments? Is that fundamental difference why I often feel like an interloper in my gaming communities? I don’t know, really, but I want to find out.
One of the difference I see in male gamers and female ones is that female ones tend to have a bigger life outside of games – we have multiple friend groups that we often go out with, interests outside of geeky culture that we will pursue with the same vigor as our games, and we don’t tend to let our gaming get in the way of our health or other obligations.
Which is not to say that my generalization is a hard and fast rule, but rather that it’s a usual pattern that I’ve observed in most of the gaming communities I’ve been a part of. I, myself, often straddle the line between what I’ve defined here as “male” gaming patterns and “female” ones, so that alone should tell you that it isn’t a truism any more than the idea that more men than women play videogames is a truism.
Take this past week for an example — I’ve thrown studying to the wind and have spent almost every night playing video games with my friends. One of the days I didn’t, I held a dinner party that one of them attended (the other was working). I’ve stayed up much later than I should — which is to say that I’ve gone to bed anywhere between 12am and 5am, depending on whether it was a school night or not. But I haven’t missed school, and I haven’t slacked in my classes.
The boys, however, would either leave my place to go play more video games, or I’d leave theirs because I was falling asleep. Once or twice one of them would leave before I would. But usually not. They will miss school, or stay up all night, or skip meals (okay, I can’t get on their case too much about this one — I’ve been known to do that in the past, too), or what have you. And none of this shocks me, because that is pretty much what would happen in my old gaming group.
The girls I haven’t had a chance to play with don’t, to my knowledge, stay out late. They often have other things going on that will run late. They keep wanting to game, but they never seem to have any time. I can relate because in between gaming I’ve been going out with friends (dinner, lunch, just hanging out) quite a lot. The only reason I have time is because, instead of going to bed after my nights out, I’ll do what my gaming guys do — bid my friends goodnight and then go play video games.
“But wait,” you say, “Doesn’t that just define thel line between hardcore and casual gamers? Doesn’t that just reinforce the idea that women are casual gamers and men are hardcore?” To some extent, yeah, I am kind of postulating that here. But I think that there’s more to being a hardcore gamer than making oneself sick playing games all the time.
I, for instance, heavily identify as a hardcore gamer — when I get a new game I like, I obsess. I will play it whenever I have free time, often to the point of ignoring my friends. But that’s always a temporary state for me; after a while, I’ll go back to keeping a more balanced schedule. Because, well, I like having friends, and friends don’t stick around if you ignore them for too long.
Another issue that I think factors in to whether one is a hardcore or casual gamer would be how much one spends thinking/talking about games when not actually playing them. I personally have this habit of almost always talking about games — to the point where I often lose the person I’m talking with. Just yesterday, I was talking to a classmate about my DS Lite (bought on Friday — be jealous, ye suckers who don’t live in Japan!), and she said to me, “When you talk about games it’s like you’re speaking another language.” And, I mean, it is. Not to mention that it’s slowly becoming the class joke that anytime a question is asked about what I want to do, what I like, my hobby, etc. that I’ll say gaming. And those of you who read my blog regularly will know how often I talk about the intersections between gaming/geekery and other issues (like feminism).
In this sense, are women less likely to be hardcore? I don’t rightly know. I’d argue that the prevalence of gaming blogs and sites by women would say no. But, given the hostile environment (which I will talk about one day, I swear! the post is already half written), it’s hard to truly gauge how many women are “hardcore”.
What about the perception of women, though? Just a few weeks ago, I was in the school bar chatting with another student. As is often the case with me, the discussion turned to games. And this guy called me a casual gamer. You’ll hear this story again whenever I get around to posting about the greater gaming community, because that’s how much it bothered me. Not that I think that it’s necessarily a bad thing to be a casual gamer, but he assumed that I was because I was a woman. I mean, unless it’s become standard fare to give that label to someone who has been shooting the shit with you for like 5 minutes about various different kinds of games. And, come on, this guy didn’t even really play anything besides like PSX/PS2 and PC games. I don’t think he even did emulators. But, you know, I was the casual gamer.
As for my gaming communities, past and present, what did they think? Well, I know my old gaming group knew I identified as hardcore. My cousin and I would rent or buy games to play together — we especially liked playing RPGs together, but we didn’t confine ourselves to that. But I didn’t like games like Smash Bros. or fighting games (way too much baggage attached to those styles of games), which ruled me out of a lot of encounters. And that made it very stressful towards the end of my stint with them.
I can’t honestly say what my new group thinks of me. They’re happy to have me — I think, but I’m going to talk more about that in my next post (this one got too long). They are more than happy to include me in whatever game they’re playing. For instance, one of them just got an XBox 360 (which is not selling at all over here in Japan), and got a soccer game. That we all suck at. But since the XBox is 4 player, I was invited to join, and join I did. They never shirk my turn for Sengoku Musou, and part of the reason I got to be so friendly with these guys in the first place was that when they heard that I had a Gamecube they were smitten (with the console, you perv!).
I don’t think that they’d call me a casual gamer if someone asked, but would they say that I was as hardcore as them? I don’t know. Does it matter? Maybe, maybe not. I’m hoping it’s more towards the not, but given the way my last group imploded, I don’t feel so secure.
This is the first time I’ve really sat down and examined some of the whys behind my expeirences “gaming while female.” I’ve always dealt with feeling excluded, or being the interloper, or what have you, but I’ve never looked at possible reasons why that might be. And, of course, after all this I’m left with no answers, but a lot more to think about and eventually talk about. But, that’s for my next post.
Which Type of Gamer Girl are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Leave it to someone who thinks it’s appropriate to represent “kinds” of female gamers with large-breasted and scantily clad avatars (“girl power”, anyone?) to create a quiz that would tell me I’m a sports gamer. Not just a sports gamer, though, but one who walks around in a cutoff longsleeved tee and panties! Hut-hut, indeed.
Via New Game Plus.
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In the great tradition of open letters, earlbecke of the new feminist blog, Definition, has posted An open letter to all the liberal straight men… (… who just don’t understand why women could possibly be impatient or annoyed with them.).
Dear Straight Guys,
I respectfully submit that perhaps, if you really want to be seen as an understanding or sensitive individual, that you need to start treating women as people. This goes clear down to your core: it’s not enough to pretend you understand this, it’s not enough to think that, so long as your sexism is benign and not overt and is carefully disguised as either concern or misguided admiration, that we will somehow ignore or appreciate the specialized sort of attention that you give. You need to change the way you think, the very way that you perceive your world.
I want to give this post a further look, but since I’m on mental vacation for the moment I figured I’d highlight this great new blog before I forgot. I suggest hopping over to Definition and giving earlbecke’s entire post a read.
The first thing you notice in Indigo Prophecy is that there are three playable characters: Lucas Kane, unwilling murderer and first person you play as; Carla Valenti, the only woman you control; and Tyler Miles, Carla’s (junior) partner. A ratio of 2 to 1 favouring males isn’t exactly equal, but with the way games run these days I should probably be thankful that there’s a woman at all, much less one who wears weather appropriate clothing and has realistic sized breasts.
Lucas, Lucas, Lucas… You begin and end with his character, and the conclusion to the story is told from his perspective. With the most screen time and the most prominent position in the story, he is undeniably the main protagonist.
If one was expecting him to be the paragon of masculinity, that idea is shattered within the first few minutes of the opening. While he doesn’t break down and cry after killing a man, he certainly does his share of freaking out here and there throughout the next couple chapters. He is not afraid to admit emotion to himself; indeed, a couple of ways you can depress him is by having him look at pictures of his parents or of Tiffany, his ex. Nor does he seem to have qualms in to sharing it, as he is always frank with his brother Markus. He even owns and plays a guitar, and you know how girly the sensitive artist types are (I kid, I kid, but the stereotype of the sensitive artist type is definitely invoked).
Throughout the game, though, you find that his virility is beyond reproach. Once he gets over the worst of his angsty woe-as-me depression, he gets not one but two women. The first is Tiffany, his ex. If you give the right answers when she comes to get her boxes, Lucas ends up sleeping with her and she stays the night. Later on, regardless of what happened at the apartment, she hides him from the cops and tells him that she still loves him. Right after Tiffany meets her untimely demise, Lucas starts macking on Carla. This leads to sex, Carla’s admission of love, and eventually them getting married.
The ability to get laid is but one way his manliness is assured. Once his wrists have healed, you can have him beat the crap out of his punching bag. And, when I say, “beat the crap out of it,†what I mean is, “kick it clear across the room.†It’s not long before Lucas graduates from punching bags to Matrix-esque martial arts and acrobatics. By the time the game is over, he has done a full-blown Dragon Ball Z transformation, fully equipped with the ability to charge his power to throw a death-dealing ball of energy at the Oracle. No one’s gonna challenge the masculinity of a guy that powerful.
Do Lucas’ traits merely make him a well-rounded character, or does the need to establish his physical and sexual virility say something deeper about gender relations in Western society? I recently criticized conflation of female sexuality with female power in my last instalment of Girls & Game Ads, and I can’t help but feel that Lucas’ situation is the male side of things. In contrast to the women (who are seen first and foremost as sexual and secondly as powerful), his physical prowess is focused on with his sexual exploits are minor asides in his storyline. Given the nature of gender roles, I don’t find this difference very surprising. Men, after all, have a history of being valued for their physical and mental abilities, while women are lauded for their beauty.
None of this is to say that I find Lucas’ character as unduly problematic, or so stereotypical that I found him hard to relate to. I enjoyed his blend of weakness and strength. For all the flaws, I enjoyed his relationships with Markus, Tiffany, and Carla. I did think that, overall, he was a well-rounded, three-dimensional character. It’s just that, taking his character in the context of Western culture, a closer examination of his traits and relationships reveals some interesting assumptions about masculinity.
I’m sure this will come as a shock – shock! – to all of you, but Carla was my favourite character. When I first rented the game with my friend, we would always choose her character to follow first. She was strong, independent, and a natural leader. Things I like to imagine myself being, I suppose. As the game progressed, though, I saw her being caught in more stereotypical traps and I despaired. In the end, I still loved her. She may have brought some T&A to the party, but she was still Carla.
Always the one with a good head on her shoulders, Carla sidesteps the “annoying emotional sidekick†stereotype and falls squarely in the “obsessive work-oriented cop†one. To me, it was refreshing to not have to think about who she was attracted to. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was made clear that any relationship with her partner was thankfully out because of his long-term girlfriend. For the first half of the game, nary a mention was made of Carla having any romantic attachments or inclinations, save for a mysterious e-mail from Tommy.
Oh, Tommy, how can a gay man be the harbinger of doom for Carla’s love life? It was through the non-threatening, homosexual friend that the player learns that Carla is yearning for a man. To be fair, Tommy (like most of the characters), is also attached – he talks about his new boyfriend. It was during that conversation that I knew a part of independent, “I don’t need a man to be complete,†Carla was gone forever. Having Lucas call her to talk sealed the deal; I didn’t even have to see that “moment of affection†in her apartment with him to know that she was going to get with him.
Aside from the final scenes, which are told almost exclusively from Lucas’ point-of-view, the balancing factor is that Carla retains her distinct personality. Throughout the game, she gets a lot of airtime to show off her strengths. I felt the creators took pains to give her an equal part in discovering of clues, in putting them together, and solving the case. There seemed to be a conscious balance of physical strength/dexterity with her intellectual pursuits, as well. I’ll get into a few more specifics with Part 4 of the series, but I noticed that she was the one who was associated with the shooting mini-game. Near the end, she also finds pieces to jury-rig a radio with – a technical task that is traditionally allocated to a man.
Like Lucas, I found Carla to be an overall well-rounded character. Despite relying on a few stereotypes for her characterization, she was more often than not portrayed as an independent woman who was important for what she did, rather than who she did.
Thinking back on my runs through the game, it strikes me that some of the most vivid memories of Tyler as a character I have are in relation to either Carla or Sam, his girlfriend. Indigo Prophecy does its share of defining women through their relationships with men, which I’ll get to later, but it does its share of defining men through their relationships with women, as well. While I’d argue that Tyler is characterized primarily through his race, taking a close second for defining who he is would be his interactions with the women in his life. I suppose that, if anything, is telling.
In many ways, Tyler is a masculine character: he played basketball in college, he likes video games, he wants to protect his woman, and he, not Carla, drives when they go together to a crime scene. But he is also the empathetic one: on the crime scene, he’s the one who chats with the forensic guys; he’s the one who gets the composite from Kate; and in the end he is supposed to follow his heart and go with his girlfriend to Miami (even if you choose not to do that, his plot is over at that moment).
I liked Tyler. He was a funny guy. He was a people-person who wasn’t afraid to do a little grunt work. Ultimately, though, at least in terms of gender, he wasn’t very memorable as a stand-alone. Most of what I have to say about him will come in Part 3 of the series, because I believe that he is best defined through his relationship with Carla and Sam.
Though not as important as the playable characters, the supporting cast still a large part of what a player gets out of the game. They are more likely to fit into stereotypes, as the writers don’t have as much screen time to develop them in, and which paradigms are chosen can reveal much about gender interactions.
Markus Kane
Markus is Lucas’ brother, and his confidant throughout the game. His association to Lucas puts his life in jeopardy, which recalls a lot of the “love interest as target†stereotypes, and in the end he makes an appearance in the underground camp to show the player that he made it through okay. Though I would argue that he is less important to the plot than, say, Tiffany, he is the only non-playable character given a blurb in the manual.
Tiffany
Tiffany is Lucas’ ex girlfriend. I don’t recall if the reason for their break-up is ever really explained, but, like Markus, Lucas’ enemies target her. Unlike him, though, she dies while Lucas tries to rescue her. She lives and dies attached to Lucas, a typical feature for the supporting females of childbearing age.
Sam
Sam is Tyler’s girlfriend. They are exclusive, live together, and plan on having a family. Like Tiffany, her role is defined solely by her relationship with Tyler. She constantly worries about his work, and in the end is the deciding factor in the wrap up for his story.
Agatha
Agatha is too old to be defined as someone’s lover, so she is safely put into another category: wise woman/spiritual advisor. She, too, dies because of her association with Lucas. Later on, her visage is used by the Purple Clan in an attempt to get Lucas to do what they want him to.
Jade (chosen child)
The opposite of Agatha, Jade is too young to be defined as someone’s lover. Instead of that, however, she becomes the paragon of female virtue: she is a lifeless conduit for male power. She is the keeper of the secrets of the universe and “he†(language used in the game, also all those after her are male-bodied) who possesses her secret is given unlimited power. She has no personality, and is constantly referred to as a “pure soul.†Once her task is over, she dies. It is highly disturbing that a girl-child with no agency of her own is used to consolidate male power and then is discarded once her role is finished.
Tommy
Tommy is Carla’s gay friend/hallmate. He has a bit of a political purpose – his relationship with his boyfriend is used to illustrate continued homophobia in Western culture – but ultimately I see him as a non-threatening way to reveal Carla’s single status and set her up for her relationship with Lucas.
Most stories have people who appear only in cameos to emphasize a point, or drive the story on. These characters are generally only important because they represent the breakdown of the world at large. Indigo Prophecy is no exception, but I’ve broken the characters into two groups: people in power, and incidental characters. The gender makeup of these two groups sets up the backdrop and can often last a lasting, if not conscious, impression on the player.
People in power:
Though the world of the game is set up to reflect ours, I was somewhat shocked to find that there was only one person in power that I could find that was female. It was one of the voices of the Orange Clan (one of five or six total). The Oracle is male, the Purple Clan AI is male-bodied, the police chief is male, Sgt. Robert Mitchell (worked on a ritual killing case prior to Carla and Tyler) is male, and Bogart (bum and head of an underground organization that helps Lucas and Carla at the end) is male. Where are all the women? Male-dominated or not, this is the 21st century and women do hold positions of authority. By not showing any women in these important positions, it sends the message that it is normal to see men in power, but not women.
Incidental chars:
Even in the memorable but incidental characters, the split is obvious: Kate the waitress versus four guys. Martin Mc Carthy, the cop from the diner, shows up more than once. As do Garret & Frank, the forensic guys, and Jeffery, the basketball guy. The person working at the morgue was also male, come to think of it. As were most known perpetrators and victims of the ritual killings: Lucas/male victim, both were male in the Kirsten case, and it was only the Laundromat with a female victim that bucked the trend.
In the end, I guess I have to say that I find the characterization in the game problematic but not irredeemable. I would hazard a guess to say that the script writers thought that they were being all equal by having a main female character who was strong, intelligent, and non-hypersexualized, as well as a supporting cast that had a decent amount of women on it. And I recognize that, and appreciate it. It’s a better representation than most games I’ve played. But it’s no Beyond Good and Evil, where it had all that and didn’t define women mostly by their relationships, and had a visible representation of women in power. For Indigo Prophecy, I have to say: it’s a start, but you have a long way to go, baby.
While in the midst of writing my Girls and Game Ads series, I found myself going off on a tangent on the depiction of women in the fantasy genre and how it helped lead to the rise of the “girl power” paradigm we find deeply enmeshed in current Western pop-culture. While the whole “chicks in chainmail” deal was already being challenged by fresh authors and ideas by the time I got into fantasy, it remains an important part of the genre’s history. It is this idea that I will be addressing in this article.
My first real introduction to the fantasy genre as a genre in its own right was Ursula K. Leguin’s Earthsea series. While the way she used her female characters never sat right with me, nevertheless I believe it to be significant that my initial contact with the genre was divorced from one of its staple stereotypes. It wasn’t until I got into Dragonlance that I was introduced into the idea of “chicks in chainmail”. There, however, it was the art that emphasised that rather than the authors; Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman’s portrayal of their female warriors was pretty close to being gender neutral and most definitely didn’t fetishize them into “babes in brass bra bikinis” (to steal from Esther Friesner). Other Dragonlance authors varied in their representation, but even though I eventually quit the series I never felt that they had betrayed me to the stereotype. Indeed, partly because I’m not so much into high fantasy and partly because I tend to unconsciously seek out female authors, I don’t have much in my extensive collection that fits this paradigm.
Nevertheless, simply being immersed in fantasy culture is enough to make one aware of this stereotype. Even if not for the D&D books I briefly owned, or the fantasy genre video games I played, I still would have been aware that the books I chose were still not the “norm” for the growing genre. One of my favourite series, in fact, is a collection of parody stories: Chicks in Chainmail, Did You Say Chicks?!, Chicks ‘N Chained Males, The Chick is in the Mail and the newest one, Turn the Other Chick. These stories helped me to see that the harmful stereotype goes deeper than just the flagship “warrior babe” (fully equipped with scanty armour that wouldn’t protect a fly, let alone a human being) and into every aspect of the traditional genre, from the sexualized warrior women to the meek healing sidekicks. Not long after this, I was shown two other great series (Tamora Pierce’s Song of the Lioness quartet and Patricia C. Wrede’s The Enchanted Forest Chronicles) by my fantasy loving friends that, while not parodies per se, turned the stereotypes on their ears. Though already past the targeted age for Young Adult books, those series appealed to me on a highly personal level and continue to enthral me even now. Good writing, it seems, knows no age boundary.
While the expansion of the fantasy genre and, I would argue, the increasing inclusion of women’s voices, is beginning to erode the vice grip the “chicks in chainmail” paradigm has on the literary genre, it seems that instead of eradicating the stereotype all that is happening is that it is being transferred to other forms of the genre. Even today, you can still see it as a common theme with popular artists such as Luis Royo and the combined talents of Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell (a tagline in their footer even proclaims: “Beautiful women and heroic men”). The video game industry uses the model for everything from E3’s “booth babes” to Blizzard’s Night Elves. Hollywood has even picked it up with characters like Buffy (her television counterpart being less of a parody than the original movie), Leeloo from Fifth Element, and a whole host of characters from film adaptations of comics and video games.
A December 2005 survey of Gamers in the UK revealed some interesting (though not unexpected, to me, anyway) information about the breakdown (age/gender/etc) of people who play games.
Of particular note was their conclusion about gender based on the survey results:
The Gender Split
Contrary to popular belief, the gender split between gamers is fairly even across all age groups. Although female gamers never overtake their male counterpart, the figures are particularly even in the youngest and oldest gaming groups. Between the ages of 16-35 the ratio of males ot females is slightly higher, but the stereotype of a larger gender gap in gamers – in any age group – is untrue.
Females and males do hoewver display some different preferences in gaming categories. Simulations and MMOGs perform equally well with males and females, while RPGs and Strategy fare only marginally better with males. Females then show strong approval for Music/Dance, Puzzles/Board/Quiz, and Classic games. Males show strong approval for Action-Adventure, Racing, Sports, and First Person Shooters. Simuolations and MMOGs seem to be be key to attracting audiences of both genders equally: Sports and Shooting category games generally hold the lowest appeal for females, although it should be noted that this doesn’t mean they have no appeal: 12% of females play First Person Shooters.
I wonder if a comprehensive survey in the US would corroborate these findings, or show significant differences. After hearing so many people talk about how women are in a vast minoritiy in MMOs (a statement I’ve only found to be true in World of Warcraft, at least on the PvP server my main was on), I have to say it pleases me to see that in the UK, and perhaps elsewhere, the statement is indeed a fallacy.
ESA has decided to actually enforce E3’s policy on sexually explicit material and ban Booth Babes (IGN says: Companies may have to rely on actual games to grab our attention.). The response I’ve been seeing is not nearly as bad I would have thought. Amid cries of “Without Booth Babes in tiny leather pants or bikinis, is there any reason at all to go to E3?” (dur, if you have no interest in checking out new games, plz send me in your stead) and WTF!!!!, there is a surprising apathy with people more concerned about the underage attendees. There’s even *gasp* some happy people.
But, beyond the varied response is the reasoning behind the choice. ESA claims that they did it to create a more professional business environment. Their timing, however, is suspect, especially given that they have had these policies on the books for some time. Well, better late than never, right? Taking the focus off T&A and putting it where it belongs, on the games, is a good thing in my book. I’m just not feeling good at the way ESA chose to do it.
Let’s first take a look at the policy in question [emphasis mine]:
Material, including live models, conduct that is sexually explicit and / or sexually provocative, including but not limited to nudity, partial nudity and bathing suit bottoms, are prohibited on the Show floor, all common areas, and at any access points to the Show. ESA, in its sole discretion, will determine whether material is acceptable.
IDGA addresses the potential implications for adult material, but I’d like to take a look at it from a feminist perspective. Am I the only one who’s uncomfortable with the live models being defined as material? I thought we had gotten past that whole “women as property†thing, at least for the purpose of legal definitions. Come on, it shouldn’t be that hard to word a policy that is both clear and recognizes the humanity of the models whose service E3’s clients employ.
The “sexually provocative†line also makes me nervous, simply because it’s reminiscent of the kind of language that’s used to blame women for sexual harassment. IGN’s comment on penalties for conduct violators plays into that sentiment, as well [emphasis mine]: “Models will also have to switch to more modest dress before returning to the show floor.†To ESA’s credit the actual E3 handbook doesn’t use the word modest, but the phrase “comply with the dress code.â€
Although my first impression about the crack down on Booth Babes was along the lines of, “Finally!†I’m not so confident about ESA’s decision anymore. From the policies and the commentary on it, ESA seems to be reacting more to an anti-sex political environment rather than actually grocking the line they give about professionalism. It’s not the models’ sexuality that’s the problem, but rather how it’s used to promote the games that’s the issue. I’m starting to wonder if a simple concept like that may be too hard for execs in the gaming industry to grasp.
Via feminist.
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