If every game is different, why do they all feel identical the moment you pick up the controller?
You boot up a new game. It looks slick. The intro is cinematic. Then it hands you control and asks you to climb a tower, unlock the map, and tick off objectives. Ten minutes later, you’re collecting junk, opening chests, unlocking fast travel points, and crafting something pointless. Haven’t you done this before?
You have. Because publishers love safe bets, and safe bets mean copy-paste design. Games now follow the same formula. Open world. Checklist quests. Busywork. A splash of RPG mechanics. Some light crafting. A skill tree that looks deep but doesn’t matter after the first hour. It’s the same template with a different skin.
Look at Far Cry, Assassin’s Creed, Ghost Recon, and Horizon. Different settings, different stories, but the loop is nearly identical. Clear the outpost. Climb the thing. Loot the chest. Upgrade your pouch. The structure hasn’t evolved. It’s been refined into something so safe and polished that it no longer surprises you.
This happens in multiplayer too. Call of Duty, Battlefield, Halo Infinite. They all blur together now. Different weapons and visuals, sure, but the same modes, the same seasonal model, the same grind. Even the menus look alike. You can predict the entire progression system before the first match loads.
And it’s not just the big names. Indie games fall into it too. Roguelikes with procedural levels and meta progression. Survival crafting with hunger meters and wooden huts. Cozy farming sims with pixel art and fishing. Nobody’s saying these are bad, but the repetition is impossible to ignore. Every genre has its formula now, and most devs stick to it.
The problem comes from risk aversion. Budgets are higher, stakes are higher, and executives don’t want failure. So they lean on data. If one game sells well, copy its structure. If a mechanic tests well in one title, bolt it onto the next. That’s how you end up with XP bars in stealth games, crafting in horror games, and skill trees in first-person shooters. Doesn’t matter if it fits. It gets shoved in anyway.
There’s also pressure to be everything to everyone. Games now want exploration, story, multiplayer, crafting, character progression, gear customisation, and cosmetics. All at once. The result is a bloated checklist of features that don’t complement each other. Just more systems layered on top of each other until the game becomes noise.
Some studios still break the pattern. FromSoftware keeps doing its own thing, and it works. Hitman found a rhythm that ignores current trends and leans into what makes it unique. Return of the Obra Dinn didn’t follow anyone’s template. These are the exceptions. Most studios look at what sold last quarter and try to imitate it.
What gets lost in all this is identity. When everything is designed by committee and shaped by market research, it starts to feel lifeless. The games are technically solid. They work. They pass QA. But they don’t stay with you. You finish them, delete them, and move on. You’ve already seen everything they had to offer somewhere else.
Old games were weird, rough, and sometimes broken. But they took swings. They had identity. Now everything is built to meet expectations and pass checklists.
When was the last time a game genuinely surprised you?
