The frenzy surrounding live‑service games has been dissected countless times over the last decade, and the consensus is clear: the belief that every title should be built as a live‑service experience was a colossal misstep. Companies poured billions of dollars and untold hours of development into projects that promised recurring revenue, only to discover that the model erodes consumer goodwill and devalues cherished intellectual properties. Major publishers and console makers scoured their back‑catalogues, convinced that somewhere among their legacy franchises lay the next Fortnite‑style money‑maker. The odds of striking gold were astronomically low, yet executives rationalised the gamble by insisting that a single blockbuster would offset a slew of failures.
In practice, the success rate of live‑service titles was vastly overstated, the market’s capacity to sustain multiple large‑scale services was grossly miscalculated, and the operational complexity of running a thriving live service was dramatically underestimated. The thin line between profit and player backlash proved far narrower than anyone anticipated.
The fallout was industry‑wide. Studios faced layoffs, projects were axed, and some development houses shuttered altogether—often the very teams with the least influence over the strategic decisions that led to those outcomes.
While many firms felt the tremors of the live‑service mania, Sony stands out as the most conspicuous example. Its aggressive pivot toward live‑service titles—promising a dozen new services by early 2023—has become a cautionary tale marked by delayed launches, disastrous releases, and a cascade of cancellations. Jason Schreier’s recent investigation into Guerrilla Games’ "Horizon Hunters Gathering" illustrates the broader consequences. The game, originally envisioned as a live‑service multiplayer experience, performed poorly in internal testing and is now being re‑engineered into a traditional multiplayer title.
This shift mirrors earlier cases like "Dragon Age: The Veilguard," which was reworked from a live service into a single‑player experience late in development. What makes Guerrilla’s situation particularly striking is that, after completing the DLC for "Horizon: Forbidden West," the studio has devoted its resources almost entirely to this uncertain project. Consequently, there is currently no major sequel to the Horizon franchise in active development. If "Hunters Gathering" never materialises, Sony loses more than the sunk development costs—it forfeits a flagship exclusive for the PS5 era.
The next Horizon mainline entry may not appear until well into the PS6 generation. This represents a profound strategic blunder.
The Horizon series was a cornerstone of PlayStation’s success, delivering a steady stream of must‑play titles that showcased Sony’s ability to launch new franchises and rejuvenate older ones. Yet studios renowned for crafting expansive single‑player experiences were redirected to build live‑service games on their IPs.
The predictable underperformance of those services now means that, for at least half a decade, those studios have little to show for their efforts. Guerrilla is not alone. Observers have noted conspicuous gaps in Sony’s release calendar that likely stem from the same live‑service push.
Naughty Dog, for instance, has not delivered a new original PS5 title since 2020; its recent releases have been remasters while a planned "Last of Us" live‑service was cancelled. Other first‑party studios such as Sucker Punch and Santa Monica Studio appear to have escaped the worst of the trend, but their relative success may be the exception rather than the rule. The timing of this pipeline erosion could not be worse for Sony. The perception that the PS5 lacks compelling exclusive games has become a meme, even if the console still offers a healthy catalogue.
The absence of key studios and franchises from the lineup fuels a narrative that could deter consumers just as Sony prepares to launch what is expected to be its most expensive console to date. In response, Sony is attempting damage control, reverting to the development philosophy that powered the PS4’s triumph and trying to salvage value from the costly live‑service experiment and the multi‑billion‑dollar Bungie acquisition intended to support it. However, modern game development cycles are long; building a high‑quality exclusive pipeline requires years of advance planning.
No amount of cash can instantly create a robust slate of games if development never began in the first place. Financial statements may gloss over the true impact of such strategic errors, reducing them to line‑item numbers—ten million here, a hundred million there. Opportunity cost, however, resists such accounting.
When top‑tier studios waste years on ill‑conceived side projects and miss an entire console generation, the loss is not captured in quarterly earnings. It manifests as weakened brand equity, eroded consumer trust, and a diminished competitive position that will linger long after the abandoned live‑service titles fade from memory.
In the broader history of the industry’s missteps, Sony’s ill‑judged live‑service pivot may ultimately be judged the most costly, not because of the dollars spent, but because of the long‑term strategic opportunities it sacrificed.