The first-person shooter (FPS) genre, once the bastion of innovation and creativity, has become a victim of the relentless grind of corporate greed. This is a tale of how the AAA gaming industry’s obsession with shareholder returns and live-service monetization models has stifled innovation, alienated players, and left us with a genre that feels more like a repetitive cash grab than the thrilling experience it once was.
The Numbers Don’t Lie
The FPS genre is suffering, and the evidence is damning. Take Battlefield 2042. Billed as a grand reinvention of the franchise, it launched as a buggy, half-finished product with baffling design decisions that alienated its core fanbase. It haemorrhaged players within weeks, dropping to fewer than 1,000 concurrent users on Steam within months—a far cry from the franchise’s glory days.
Similarly, Ubisoft’s XDefiant, heralded as a “Call of Duty killer,” hit the scene with initial enthusiasm, drawing millions of players in its first few weeks. Yet, by August 2024, it struggled to keep even 20,000 players engaged. These figures pale in comparison to established juggernauts like Fortnite, Call of Duty: Warzone, and Apex Legends, which continue to dominate the scene with player counts in the millions. The message from players is clear: stop giving us half-baked, copy-paste experiences, and start respecting our time and money.
The Roots of the Problem
At the heart of this crisis lies the AAA industry’s insatiable hunger for profit. Developers are no longer allowed the time or resources to craft innovative, polished games that push the boundaries of the genre. Instead, they’re saddled with the demand to churn out annualised sequels and “live-service” experiences designed not to entertain but to extract maximum revenue through microtransactions, battle passes, and endless cosmetic content.
Consider Call of Duty, a franchise that once set the standard for FPS games. In recent years, it has become the poster child for this approach. While Warzone remains a popular battle royale, its yearly instalments feel increasingly like re-skins of their predecessors, designed to hit sales quotas rather than advance the series. Meanwhile, Fortnite, a game that fundamentally reshaped the genre with its dynamic live events and constant innovation, shows what can happen when developers are allowed to take risks.
The Live-Service Trap
The rise of the live-service model is perhaps the clearest example of how corporate greed has warped the industry. In theory, live-service games should keep players engaged by offering regular updates and fresh content. In practice, they’ve become little more than vehicles for predatory monetization. Why bother crafting a compelling single-player campaign or innovative multiplayer mode when you can slap together a loot box system and call it a day?
This model isn’t just bad for players; it’s bad for games. When publishers prioritise short-term revenue over long-term quality, the result is a glut of underwhelming releases that fail to stand the test of time. Games like Battlefield 2042 and Halo Infinite launched with massive marketing budgets and plenty of hype, only to see their player bases evaporate as soon as the novelty wore off.
Where Are the Risks?
It wasn’t always this way. In the early 2000s, FPS games were defined by innovation. Half-Life set the gold standard for narrative-driven shooters. Halo: Combat Evolved revolutionised console gaming with its intuitive controls and sprawling sci-fi epic. Even Call of Duty started as a bold reimagining of the war shooter, focusing on cinematic realism and squad-based combat.
Today, that spirit of risk-taking has been replaced by formulaic design and safe, uninspired gameplay. Where are the ambitious single-player campaigns? Where are the genre-defining mechanics? Why are indie titles like outshining the multimillion-dollar behemoths of the industry?
Perhaps the most striking aspect of this story is how players have responded. The success of games like Fortnite and Apex Legends, as well as the enduring popularity of classics like Counter-Strike: Global Offensive (now reborn as CS2), shows that players are willing to stick with games that deliver consistent quality and genuine innovation. Meanwhile, the rapid decline in player counts for recent AAA releases demonstrates that gamers are no longer willing to tolerate mediocrity.
It’s a stark rebuke to the corporate executives who see games not as art or entertainment but as products to be milked dry. Players have voted with their wallets and their time, and the message is clear: respect us, or we’ll take our business elsewhere.
A Way Forward
The solution to this crisis is simple, yet seemingly unattainable in the current corporate climate: put players first. Allow developers the time and creative freedom to craft experiences that truly innovate. Abandon the obsession with live-service monetization and focus on delivering games that are complete, polished, and engaging at launch.
The FPS genre doesn’t have to be a victim of corporate greed. It can once again become a space for bold ideas, thrilling gameplay, and unforgettable experiences. But to do so, the industry must break free from the shackles of its profit-first mindset. Until then, players will continue to flock to the few games that get it right, leaving the rest to wither in the shadow of their own mediocrity.
The choice is clear. Innovate or die. For the sake of the FPS genre, and gaming as a whole, let’s hope the industry chooses wisely.
