Why the Left4Dead 2 protest is pathetic

Are you one of the 30,000?

Those brave, dignified souls, joined for all eternity in the spirit of protest with Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr and that Chinese fellow with the shopping bag who stopped the tanks in Tiananmen Square. For they fight an evil as terrible as racial bigotry and as brutal as totalitarian oppression; an evil so vile that many dare not speak its name: Valve Software’s Left 4 Dead 2.

In case the heavy-handed sarcasm didn’t make it abundantly clear, I’m currently suppressing a rising tide of disappointed rage. Since the announcement of Left 4 Dead 2 at E3, the self-righteous indignation of Valve’s supposedly faithful audience, and the melodramatic bluster of those who felt it necessary to draw up a petition to exhibit their disgust, has dealt my dwindling faith in the gaming community another cruel blow.

Before a single gameplay detail had been announced, and in total ignorance of Valve’s attempts to respond, a football stadium’s worth of self-satisfied gamers turned against our medium’s standard-bearer.

If it takes three years to design Half-Life 2: Episode Three, the laughably suspect reasoning goes, Left 4 Dead 2 can’t be anything more than a cynical, money-grabbing ploy of the sort that Electronic Arts once hung its business plan on. Evidently the change in attitude of the world’s most opportunistic publisher left the door open for pretenders to its dubious throne, and Valve walked right through.

11 years of innovative design, free downloadable content and peerless community service was just a front; a ruse to mask its true intentions: ripping off the customer base with a slapdash sequel to Left 4 Dead. How can we have been so blind?

As a point of fact, I visited Valve for the first time recently, and a strange thing happened. I got a severe attack of nerves, butterflies, clammy palms and shuffling feet. For the first time since my earliest days as a writer, I felt intimidated. You know why? It was out of respect; a respect I assumed the rest of the world shared, but a respect that seemed in short supply when Left 4 Dead 2 was announced in Los Angeles.

The details of the game became irrelevant the moment I walked into that office and saw those awards; stacked end-to-end and side-by-side, covering every sideboard, sill and coffee table – commendations for technical excellence, gameplay, audience satisfaction and general all-round brilliance. A gleaming, spit-polished reminder that Valve has never done anything less than deliver far more than the price of a game should demand, creating magic while the rest of the world struggles to master its last trick.

Short of handing out free hugs with every purchase, it’s difficult to understand what else could be done to gain our trust. If Valve insists it hasn’t abandoned the original Left 4 Dead’s audience, I believe it.

If Valve is adamant that the sequel will merit its status as a full release and the changes it offers can’t be implemented as DLC, then I believe that too. It would be a great comfort to know that there was at least one studio in the world that gamers didn’t feel owed them a favour, a final bastion of integrity that has earned the benefit of our doubt.

What Left 4 Dead 2 has shown is that there’s at least 30,000 who see no value in showing the sort of faith that Valve built its reputation upon. Somehow, that just doesn’t seem fair.

I may be forced to eat these words when November finally rolls around, but to take any other position would be like betting against England in a World Cup Final. No matter who is eventually ‘right’, if Valve fails us in this way we all lose something.

Column originally by Matthew Handrahan, issue 53, 360 magazine