“Players have the right to know what they're buying and how long they'll have it”: The Mobile Mavens on game ownership

• “We need a solution that will preserve European games and game culture for thousands of years, and only game memory institutions have the means to do so.” - Jari-Pekka Kaleva
• “We really need to stop saying that players are buying games when, in reality, they are just renting a license to play them.” - Valeria Semenova
• “On paper, it makes sense that you buy something, you own it. But in technology, ownership gets complicated fast.” - Ali Farha

There have been many debates about what happens to a game at the end of its life and about what players actually own when they buy a game. 

As more titles rely on online servers, many become unplayable once support ends, prompting questions about consumers' rights, game preservation and publishers' responsibilities when bringing a game's lifecycle to an end.

Campaigns such as Stop Killing Games have brought the issue into the spotlight but opinions remain divided over the best course forward.

We asked our Mobile Mavens for their thoughts on game ownership, what responsibility publishers have and whether this debate could change how games are sold and preserved in the future.

Jari-Pekka Kaleva

Senior Policy Analyst at Neogames

Closing a game is always a tragedy for both players who love it and game developers who designed it. It is important to keep in mind that modern games are technologically complex products and services. Running and maintaining them for players requires skills, resources and access to third-party services.

At the same time, making them available to the public comes with heavy regulatory obligations, especially when multiplayer features are involved. Furthermore, games are a key part of the European digital cultural heritage. We cannot leave their preservation just to the goodwill of volunteers. 

Naturally, the first step is to ensure that we have more commercial services in the market that prolong the commercial life of games. GOG, for example, has done pioneering work on this side. However, in the long run, the most sustainable solutions to this challenge are likely to be found in strengthening the role of official game museums and archives, especially when it comes to out-of-commerce and orphan games.

These game memory institutions already have the necessary copyright exemption for game preservation. The next step is to ensure they have the legal framework, technological solutions, and sufficient resources to make the games in their collections available to players not only on-site but also online.

We need a solution that will preserve European games and game culture for thousands of years, and only game memory institutions have the means to do so.

Caroline Gao

Director of Product at Pragma

The deepest frustration comes from premium games. You bought it outright, then a server you never asked for becomes the thing standing between you and a game you supposedly own.

Free-to-play live games carry a different expectation going in. Games fail, and an industry where studios can take real risks and sometimes miss is a healthy one. There's nothing wrong with games coming to an end, but players deserve clear expectations and for studios to sunset them with respect.

That can be as simple as keeping the single-player content playable if it never needed the servers, and giving the community the tools to host what did and mod the game.

Paul Kilduff-Taylor

Joint CEO at Mode 7 Games

Developers and publishers should always plan for the end of life of their games from the outset: no player wants to lose access to a game they care about; no developer wants to see their hard work and creative expression become inaccessible.

The triple-A segment of the industry hasn't been serious enough about this issue historically: poor communication has been a particular issue, which has created a lot of bad blood with players.

This discontentment has enabled the Stop Killing Games campaign to muster an enormous amount of support in a very short period of time, meaning that they have vastly more influence in legislative and regulatory spheres than the average game developer. Their stated aim is to pursue new regulation as vigorously as possible, under the nebulous banner that all games be "playable indefinitely".

Given their reluctance to publish comprehensive policy documentation, invite any significant industry consultation or dialogue, or even define the specifics of their demands in a coherent manner, this could well lead to a situation where developers have to contend with a confusing patchwork of guidelines and regulations across different territories. 

By forcing the deeper discussion into closed-door meetings with government officials and formal regulatory consultations - which almost entirely involve the same high-end corporate games industry entities who caused the issue in the first place - they have taken the conversation out of the hands of individual devs and players and placed it entirely in the domain of "political insiders" (their term).

Formal compliance isn't just about straightforwardly "doing the right thing": it frequently revolves around interpreting ambiguous wording and anticipating future objections. All of that costs time and money, both of which are in very short supply for indie developers.

I would urge the campaign to work with industry on getting the specifics right, as it's developers who will need to interpret and implement the recommendations and regulatory requirements eventually.  

Regulators need to understand that the technical and legal complexities of games which require sophisticated infrastructure, are reliant on third-party services, or simply might have unforeseen issues with maintenance, are incompatible with blanket demands for indefinite playability.  

Finally, the industry itself needs to listen to this strong signal from players. It should take serious steps to improve game preservation and commit to valid end-of-life plans wherever possible.

Olha Tarasova

Head of User Acquisition at Burny Games

I think it's a really interesting topic because there isn't a clear-cut right answer. It's essentially a conflict between players' expectations and the realities of running a game as a business.

From a mobile gaming perspective, player trust is closely tied to long-term monetisation. In free-to-play games, players don't just invest money - they invest time, progress, and emotional attachment. If players feel that a game, along with everything they've invested in it, could simply disappear, they may become more hesitant to make future purchases.

At the same time, it's not realistic to expect every live-service game to be supported forever. Servers, maintenance, and ongoing operations all come with costs.

For me, the key is transparency. Players are generally understanding when a game reaches the end of its lifecycle, but they expect clear communication and fair expectations from publishers.

That's why having a transparent lifecycle policy isn't just an ethical consideration; it's also a long-term business decision that can strengthen player confidence, retention, and ultimately the willingness to invest in games over time.

Ali Farha

Associate at Behold Ventures

On paper, it makes sense that you buy something, you own it. But in technology, ownership gets complicated fast.

Single-player games are the easier case. Some of them only need online access for things like piracy checks or pushing updates from the backend, not for the actual experience. That's a design decision, and it's one studios can make from day one: build the game so the online check can be switched off later.

When a title is sunset, the company flips that switch, the requirement disappears, and players keep what they paid for. That alone would solve a huge chunk of the problem.

MMOs are a different case. The backend is often proprietary, not a commercial engine, and that code simply can't be exposed. There are real reasons behind that: safety, security, privacy, GDPR, and cost. I find it genuinely hard to imagine how you'd do this cleanly for a live MMO.

The good thing is that MMOs aren't shipping every year the way other games are, so the scale of the problem is smaller. I don't see a 100% solution here, but the initiative is still a very strong step forward.

For me, the core of it comes down to one thing: players have the right to know what they're buying and how long they'll have it. If a studio can't grant full ownership, that needs to be stated clearly up front.

A game you buy today shouldn't quietly disappear next month; that makes no sense to anyone. The honest version is simple: "This game will be playable for X."

It won't be easy. Given the current atmosphere and the industry's economics, this will be a real challenge. But it's the right direction to be heading. 

Oscar Clark

Director at Arcanix

How do we preserve games after their commercial life ends? That's a debate worth having, but I become cautious when folks start talking about legislation, especially where there is clearly too little understanding of what it actually involves. 

Live games are not simply products that can be "left running." They are complex services built on evolving servers, cloud infrastructure, third-party platforms, security, compliance and constant maintenance. They aren't like putting an old DVD back on the shelf (and even a DVD only lasts 20-30 years if you are lucky).

I'm strongly in favour of the idea that end-of-life planning should be inherently applied with live ops best practice. We've already seen encouraging examples such as Destination Home and City of Heroes: Homecoming, where communities and rights holders found workable paths to preservation. But any solution needs to recognise the technical, legal and commercial realities involved.

My concern is that yet another poorly targeted regulation will simply add another costly compliance burden to developers - particularly smaller studios - while doing little to improve preservation in practice (after all, how do you make a company act that has been shut down!). 

Games deserve preservation because they are part of our cultural history. But so do films, music, and digital media generally; something more poignant after PlayStation announced it is to remove 550 films and TV shows.

We should be exploring practical frameworks - escrow, community licensing, preservation funding and sensible end-of-life plans - that protect both players and creators; not prescribing rules that, instead of having the effect of 'Stop Killing Games', turn into 'Stop Making Games'.

Valeria Semenova

Community Manager at Rokky

We really need to stop saying that players are buying games when, in reality, they are just renting a license to play them. As a player myself, I think it's a ridiculous practice.

If you bought a game, it should be yours. And players have the right - as long as it’s for non-commercial purposes - to do whatever they want with that purchase.

Ideally, when a game is no longer supported, the publisher and developers should be obligated to release the source code for the server-side so that users can host their own servers. Or they should allow direct connections via P2P.

If I can let my imagination run wild here, it would be incredible if they could also provide the game’s source code and tools for modding enthusiasts.

We’ve seen time and again how a game’s community is the driving force keeping it alive and supported for a long time, and I think publishers should be supporting that community in every way possible.