So, we’re all agreed about bad games (Talking Turkey, CTW 30/10/95) - they’re bad for business. But there’s one thing that’s still a bit odd about them. Given that we’re all agreed that bad games are bad news for all of us, you might expect that when someone tells you that one’s slipped through the net (and it’s a net with pretty damn big holes in it), you’d be happy. Not happy about your game being a dog, but happy that now you knew about it, and could make use of this immeasurably valuable information to help to stop it from happening again. After all, and sorry if I’m banging on about it, but we have all agreed that making better games is best for everyone concerned in trying to make a living out of the leisure computing industry. Haven’t we?

Well, no. As the aforementioned article pointed out, ours is one of the most petulant industries around when it comes to accepting professional criticism. Sulking, withholding review copies, pulling advertising and, worst of all, not taking journos out to lunch anymore - all of these are weapons in the armoury of today’s game publisher PR executive, as they get out the sandbags and dig the trenches in the war against the magazines. But hang on - who’s getting hurt in this war? What are we fighting for, exactly? And hey man, why can’t we all, like, be friends and love each other?

It’s long been a mystery to me what software publishers hope to achieve by throwing tantrums about bad reviews. Do they think that calling the editor a stupid wanker will make him give you a better review next time? ("Ooh yes, they’re right, I am a bit of a stupid wanker, better try to make up for it next month")

Do they think that not advertising a game in a certain magazine will make consumers think it’s a better game? ("Hey, Fabco have gone a bit quiet about Licenced Platform Shoot-‘Em-Up Sequel 4 - but I’m sure it’s still coming out and will now trek all the way down to my local software store to look for it just on the offchance")

Or do they think that pulling their ads will make the offending publication go bust, leaving the publisher in the safe and reliable hands of, er, all the other magazines? ("What do you mean, 32%? But you liked us last month!")

Beats me. Let’s see if we can find out.

Simon Byron is one of the growing number of industry figures with experience on both sides of the barricades, having moved from editing The One Amiga to working for Bastion Marketing. How did he feel when someone stamped their feet at him after a critical panning?

"I thought then and I know now, that PR people know when a game is bad. Giving us a hard time about it regardless is annoying and it shouldn’t happen, but I think people are trying to justify themselves to their bosses, to be seen to make an effort. I remember one PR person phoning up to complain that a game of theirs hadn’t been featured, only to have it pointed out to them that it was in fact the main image on the magazine’s cover and had got a great score. They were obviously doing it because someone was watching - I think they know themselves it’s fruitless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get a re-review, and at the end of the day I don’t think it makes any difference anyway."

So, some early progress. All that shouting is for the Managing Director’s benefit. But surely even they must know that it’s only counter-productive, if it’s anything at all. And Marcus Dyson, MD of Team 17 Multimedia Ltd and former editor of Amiga Format, must surely know that better than anyone. Marcus?

"You achieve nothing by throwing wobblies at magazines. You kind of hope that people are going to take into account how you’ve behaved previously, and although it’s really not on - and we know it’s not on - you assume that they’re going to think that, well, you’re really pissed off this time. It depends on the company, too - a few years ago, if it had been Mirrorsoft or whoever then you might have just thought ‘Wankers’, and I’m not saying that we, particularly, are any better, but we’ve generally been pretty above-board. With what’s happened recently [Team 17 are still involved in an ugly spat with Amiga Power], we’ve gained nothing, the magazine in question has gained nothing, and I would say it’s only worth doing if it’s the real end of the road, if there’s nothing else that can be achieved through the normal avenues of communication. Actually, even then I wouldn’t say it’s worth doing.

The problem, I think, if we can turn it round, is that a lot of magazine companies are employing a lot of reviewers who just aren’t very good. They’re not paying them a lot of money, there’s really not a great incentive for them to work at their art, there’s no professional pride."

No argument there. But surely only the magazine gains from you having a tantrum about it, because they get to say "Look, we’re taking a stand against this big software company’s crap games, and look how much they’re sulking about it."

"Well, yeah, but the review in question was just such a bad review, not because it was a bad mark but because it just slagged the game off for being about a particular thing, that, well, we just lost it."

This seems to be getting a lot closer to the truth - simple emotional concerns taking over, the wounded animal lashing out at its attempted rescuer. But this isn’t a little cottage industry any more, it’s big business, and big business demands a much more rational approach. I suggested this to James Morris of Mindscape, a company I’ve never heard of reacting powerfully to reviews one way or the other.

"There’s almost a belief, and it’s a very misplaced belief, that you have some sort of influence over the score, which you don’t. If a game’s been two years in development, people are going to be upset, there’s a lot at stake, and the right noises have to be seen to be made."

That’s what Simon Byron said a minute ago.

"But it’s all about how you handle it. There’s nothing you can do once it’s gone into the magazine, you can only try positively and constructively to stop it happening in the future. You’re only going to damage the personal relationships that you might have, and that’s not professional."

Hmm. Cathy Campos of Bullfrog - what do you think you can possibly gain by throwing screaming fits at reviewers when they don’t like one of your games?

"If everyone else is saying a game is good, and then someone else says it’s total crap, that’s a bit more than personal opinion, in my opinion. But this is just my opinion, I mean, we’re just talking opinions here, aren’t we?"

Well, yes, but that’s not really what we’re getting at. You can legitimately be angry about reviews, but I still don’t see what’s achieved by making personal assault on writers and magazines, storing up bad feelings between you and them which can only be self-destructive.

"There was a lot of bad feeling here from the guys who did the program [we’re talking now about Magic Carpet 2, recently slated in PC Gamer]. Don’t forget, PR is about keeping the people you work for happy, and it was very strongly felt that action should be taken. The developers felt very very aggrieved and that something had to be done."

Another recurring theme. But, and I keep coming back to this, that still doesn’t explain what you actually get out of it at the end of the day, when letters have been sent, unpleasantries have been exchanged, and everybody wants to kick everybody else’s face in. Aren’t we all, basically, in this together?

"First of all, what you gain is a little bit of personal satisfaction. If somebody insults you in real life and you insult them back, well, you could say that that’s destructive and that’s fuelling the whole problem. But you don’t half feel better for doing it. I mean, come on, we’re all human beings! Magic Carpet 2 was the first time in my life as a PR person I ever sent a letter like that. "

No it isn’t. I remember getting a distinctly similar one after the first ever issue of Amiga Power, for example.

"Okay, but I don’t do it every time."

Still, we’re getting to the meat of the issue. The interpersonal relationships between journos and PR types bear what some might see as an entirely disproportionate influence on what appears in print. I asked Jonathan Davies, editor of PC Gamer and author of many an uncompromising piece, and yet a man deeply reluctant to get involved in any kind of confrontation, how he reconciled the demands of the job with the people he must work with to do it.

"It’s mighty tempting to go with the flow and hope that, when Mr Reader rushes home £50 lighter and loads up the much-praised Tiresome Doom Rip-Off LXVII to find that, in fact, it’s awful, he thinks it’s just him that’s being stupid. That might work for a bit but, in the long term, the companies who turn out genuinely good games will succeed, and likewise the magazines who back them up by telling the truth - I’m sure one of the reasons that Future has developed into such a terrifying mega-global behemoth is that its magazines aren’t afraid to be honest.

It can’t be much fun seeing a year’s work pulled apart in a page of copy, and the natural reaction is to go on the defensive. But to waste time going through the review with a fine tooth-comb, seizing upon any minor detail as evidence that the reviewer clearly hasn’t played the game properly and is therefore completely wrong about everything, is pointless and self-destructive. The thing to do is make sure the next game’s better."