The unique shame of the video game critic

With real lives and real rights under threat, what's the point of writing about virtual worlds?

Early into the video game critic's career, the statement "I write about video games for a living" assumes the fraught, almost tearful, character of a confession. Even in its highest form (something like: the sifting of art and entertainment in search of truth or beauty), the critic's profession is something of a superfluity for the species. Marooned on the desert island, the critic can only whisper "fair cop" when his co-survivors reveal the result of their vote on whom to eat first. Criticism is not a practical skill. It saves no lives.

Self-doubt is the common cold of writerly ailments. Doubly so for the critic of an emergent form

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