Those for whom the 1990s and 2000s were the decades of childhood and adolescence know this affinity for video games. Their personal history was, in large part, shaped by countless hours spent in front of a console, a symbol of playful (and sometimes frustrating) escapism during which the real world faded in favor of the one offered by a television or computer screen. During those blessed years for this particular generation, these moments were among the most precious sources of pleasure. These treasures took many forms: those over thirty are familiar with cartridges, CD-ROMs, and Blu-ray discs… which are now threatened with being reduced to museum relics.
We well remember the excitement that followed us on the path to acquiring these objects, the insertion of which into the console was, generally, an important phase of that particular delight that began as soon as we touched the cover or felt the cartridge… and continued when the game started. A unique experience that now risks belonging only to history with Sony’s announcement that it will end the sale of physical games in January 2028. From that date, new PlayStation games will no longer be available on physical discs. For those who have had this relationship with the gaming world since those golden ages, this news was a guillotine, the end of an era and the beginning of a new one in which long-time fans risk no longer recognizing themselves.
From 2028, therefore, stores will no longer be a means of accessing new games, which will not be able to function without the internet. At that point, ownership will seem much less concrete than when one has tangible, material objects. It is as if we only obtain the right to access them rather than possession of the work itself. A material dispossession that also deprives us of the possibility of reselling the titles we have finished or those fraternal moments during which we exchanged them.
The philosopher Walter Benjamin argued that a work of art, in the age of technical reproducibility, loses a part of its “aura” when it is reproduced in multiple copies and thus ceases to be unique. But a video game, once purchased, possesses its own history and becomes part of a biography where it acquires a singularity that transcends its industrial origin. Its cover has aged in a particular way, its case has become scratched over time according to a history of its own… It was, therefore, an era where a video game was not just a simple file: its physical medium was the repository of a memory.
Captured & Published at: 2026-07-06 05:43:23 (Madagascar Local Time EAT)
Original Source: https://www.lexpress.mg/2026/07/fin-de-partie.html