The frenzy surrounding live‑service games has been well documented by now. The belief that every title should be turned into a constantly updated, revenue‑dripping service turned out to be a costly illusion, draining billions of dollars, countless development hours, and eroding consumer goodwill and the value of beloved intellectual properties. Major publishers and platform owners spent years combing through their libraries, convinced that somewhere among their existing franchises lay the next Fortnite‑style cash cow. The odds of hitting such a hit were astronomically low, yet the logic was that a single blockbuster could offset a slew of failures.
That logic proved flawed for several interrelated reasons. First, the industry overestimated how often live‑service games succeed, which meant the risk was understated.
Second, analysts exaggerated the market’s capacity to support multiple large‑scale live services at once. Third, and perhaps most crucially, they underestimated how difficult it is to run a live‑service title successfully; the line between a profitable, beloved game and a despised, money‑losing flop is razor‑thin.
The fallout was widespread. Few companies escaped unscathed, and many are still grappling with financial crises that stem directly from over‑investing in these high‑risk ventures.
The most visible consequences—layoffs, project cancellations, and studio closures—have fallen on the workers who had little say in the strategic decisions that led to the disaster. While many firms felt the sting, Sony stands out as the poster child for this era. Its aggressive pivot to live services epitomizes the broader industry missteps: an ambitious promise to launch a dozen live‑service titles by March, followed by a prolonged and humiliating reversal marked by disastrous launches and abandoned projects. Jason Schreier’s recent reporting on Guerrilla Games’ "Horizon Hunters Gathering" illustrates the broader problem and highlights a less obvious cost—the opportunity cost of diverting resources away from core, high‑quality experiences.
In short, "Hunters Gathering" performed so poorly in internal tests that Sony decided to strip away its live‑service components and retool it as a conventional multiplayer game. This is not an isolated case; similar mid‑development pivots have occurred, such as "Dragon Age: The Veilguard," which was reshaped from a live service into a single‑player experience. What makes the Guerrilla situation striking is that the studio has been working almost exclusively on this project since finishing the DLC for "Horizon: Forbidden West." Consequently, there is currently no major sequel in the pipeline for one of PlayStation’s flagship franchises. If "Hunters Gathering" ever sees release, its financial outlay will be dwarfed by the broader impact on Sony’s exclusive lineup.
The real cost is that Guerrilla, one of PlayStation’s most acclaimed first‑party studios, will likely not deliver a major exclusive for the PS5 era. "Horizon: Forbidden West" launched at the tail end of the PS4 cycle, appearing on both PS4 and PS5, and its follow‑up may not arrive until well into the lifespan of the next‑generation console, the PS6. This represents a catastrophic misstep. "Horizon" was a massive hit that helped define the PS4’s library of must‑play exclusives and demonstrated PlayStation’s ability to both launch new franchises and revitalize older ones.
Yet studios renowned for creating blockbuster single‑player experiences were redirected to develop live‑service versions of their IPs. The predictable failures of those projects now mean that several studios have little to show for the past half‑decade. Guerrilla is not alone. Observers can spot similar gaps across Sony’s release schedule, suggesting that the live‑service push has stalled other key studios.
Naughty Dog, for example, has not released a new original title since 2020; its PS5 releases have been remasters while a planned "Last of Us" live‑service game was canceled. Other studios like Sucker Punch and Santa Monica have apparently avoided the worst of the curse, but their stories remain to be fully told. The timing could not be worse for Sony.
The opportunity costs are hitting at a moment when the perception that the PS5 lacks compelling exclusives has become a meme. While the console still has a healthy library, the absence of flagship titles from top studios is palpable and could influence consumer decisions just as Sony prepares to launch what will likely be its most expensive console yet. Sony now appears to be in damage‑control mode, attempting to revert to the development strategy that served it well during the PS4 era and to salvage what remains of the costly live‑service experiment and the multi‑billion‑dollar Bungie acquisition that was meant to power it.
However, modern game development pipelines require years of advance planning; no amount of money can conjure a robust lineup overnight. This mirrors the challenge Microsoft faced when it entered the current generation, where high‑quality releases must be seeded half a decade ahead. When billions of dollars flow through the upper echelons of the games industry, it can be easy to dismiss strategic blunders as mere line‑item fluctuations—ten million here, a hundred million there. Yet opportunity cost does not appear on an accountant’s balance sheet.
When premier studios waste years on a misguided side project and miss an entire console generation, the loss is felt in brand equity, consumer trust, and long‑term revenue potential—effects that linger long after the abandoned live‑service title fades from memory. In the history of industry missteps, Sony’s ill‑judged pivot may ultimately be recorded as the most expensive mistake of all.