Let's Never Agree on What 'Game of the Year' Means
The challenge of discovering new titles remains the gaming industry's biggest ongoing concern. Despite the anxiety-inducing era of business acquisitions, growing revenue requirements, labor perils, extensive implementation of artificial intelligence, platform turmoil, shifting player interests, salvation in many ways returns to the mysterious power of "achieving recognition."
That's why I'm increasingly focused in "accolades" like never before.
Having just a few weeks left in 2025, we're deeply in GOTY season, a time when the minority of players not experiencing identical six free-to-play competitive titles every week tackle their unplayed games, debate game design, and realize that they too won't get everything. We'll see exhaustive best-of lists, and anticipate "but you forgot!" reactions to those lists. A gamer broad approval chosen by press, streamers, and enthusiasts will be revealed at The Game Awards. (Creators participate in 2026 at the DICE Awards and Game Developers Conference honors.)
This entire recognition serves as good fun — no such thing as accurate or inaccurate answers when discussing the top games of 2025 — but the significance do feel higher. Any vote made for a "annual best", whether for the grand top honor or "Best Puzzle Game" in fan-chosen honors, provides chance for wider discovery. A mid-sized adventure that flew under the radar at debut might unexpectedly find new life by competing with higher-profile (meaning heavily marketed) big boys. Once 2024's Neva appeared in nominations for a Game Award, It's certain for a fact that many people immediately sought to see analysis of Neva.
Conventionally, the GOTY machine has made limited space for the breadth of games launched each year. The difficulty to address to review all appears like climbing Everest; about 19,000 games launched on Steam in the previous year, while merely 74 releases — from latest titles and live service titles to smartphone and virtual reality specialized games — appeared across the ceremony selections. As popularity, discussion, and storefront visibility determine what players play annually, there's simply not feasible for the scaffolding of awards to properly represent the entire year of titles. Nevertheless, potential exists for improvement, assuming we accept it matters.
The Predictability of Annual Honors
Earlier this month, a long-running ceremony, including video games' most established recognition events, published its nominees. Although the vote for Game of the Year proper happens early next month, one can see where it's going: This year's list created space for appropriate nominees — massive titles that garnered praise for refinement and scope, popular smaller titles celebrated with major-studio excitement — but in a wide range of honor classifications, there's a evident focus of repeat names. In the incredible diversity of art and gameplay approaches, excellent graphics category allows inclusion for two different exploration-focused titles located in feudal Japan: Ghost of Yōtei and Assassin's Creed Shadows.
"Were I constructing a next year's Game of the Year theoretically," one writer commented in digital observation that I am chuckling over, "it must feature a PlayStation exploration role-playing game with mixed gameplay mechanics, companion relationships, and RNG-heavy replayable systems that leans into chance elements and has basic building development systems."
Industry recognition, in all of its formal and informal versions, has grown foreseeable. Multiple seasons of finalists and honorees has created a template for what type of high-quality 30-plus-hour experience can achieve GOTY recognition. We see games that never reach main categories or including "important" technical awards like Game Direction or Story, typically due to innovative design and unusual systems. Most games launched in a year are destined to be ghettoized into specific classifications.
Specific Examples
Imagine: Will Sonic Racing: Crossworlds, an experience with critical ratings just a few points below Death Stranding 2 and Ghosts of Yōtei, achieve the top 10 of industry's top honor selection? Or maybe one for excellent music (because the audio absolutely rips and deserves it)? Unlikely. Excellent Driving Experience? Certainly.
How outstanding should Street Fighter 6 require being to earn Game of the Year recognition? Can voters look at character portrayals in Baby Steps, The Alters, or The Drifter and acknowledge the most exceptional acting of 2025 lacking a studio-franchise sheen? Does Despelote's two-hour play time have "adequate" plot to deserve a (deserved) Top Story award? (Furthermore, does annual event require a Best Documentary award?)
Repetition in preferences across recent cycles — within press, on the fan level — demonstrates a system progressively biased toward a specific time-consuming experience, or smaller titles that achieved enough of a splash to check the box. Problematic for an industry where exploration is everything.
