I recently attended a lecture dealing with the British Press Complaints Commission's editorial code of practice for journalists. It lists a range of all sorts of more or less obvious ethical dos and don'ts that should be honoured to protect the rights of the individual as well as the public. The last two clauses of the editorial code have to do with paying people, such as witnesses or criminals, to obtain information. But what about paying journalists to alter their views?

Of course, this question is touched upon in the very first clause of the code, which deals with accuracy:

i) The Press must take care not to publish inaccurate, misleading or distorted information, including pictures.

However, bribery is not addressed directly in the PCC's code. Is it ethically sound to accept any form of bribery from people one is professionally associated with, even if one is certain it will not affect their own views? Can one ever be certain? I'd like to have a brief monologue on these questions, using examples from the area of journalism I'm best acquainted with: video game journalism. Be aware that I'm writing this from a consumer's viewpoint - not a seasoned professional's. This is, for the most part, how gamers see the industry, although I cannot claim to represent everyone's opinions.

It is general knowledge that people who write reviews are bribed, successfully or not. Although it's commonplace in music and film journalism, the video game industry in particular is driven on such cut-throat competition that one unfavorable opinion from the right person may well cause a significant drop in sales in certain markets. What kind of gamer dares to spend 50 quid on a game Mr. Famous Game Reviewer hated? 

The popular online review aggregator Metacritic draws together reviews from multiple sources and gives each game a color-coded average score - anything below 75 out of 100 gets a yellow score card instead of the green one awarded to those with better scores. Only the worst of the worst have to carry their red score card with shame. It's a simple and effective way of categorizing games into the good, the mediocre and the bad without necessarily even having to think about the numbers. Think about it - if you were a games developer, would you risk being categorized as so-so with a myriad of other, possibly much worse games or try and squeeze a few more points out of friendly reviewers to get a 76 and that coveted green stamp of quality?

These little quirks of the gaming market have led to a situation in which what some would call bribery, video game professionals call press kits:


As seen in the above video by IGN, one of the most well-known gaming websites, developers spend ridiculous amounts of money on trying to impress the press and the public even before the game is out. Press kits haven't consisted of just a bunch of leaflets and the game in a long time - instead, they're sending out mini TVs in the shape of a batarang, and the media is eating it up. Just think about how much free publicity the game featured in this video, Arkham Origins, gets for this, positive or negative. Heck, even I am falling for it right now, using them as an example. Of course, we can never know if getting early Christmas presents will make reviewers like the game itself any better, but it certainly wouldn't be a surprise, and definitely not the first time it has happened. It might be that it reflects favorably in reviews in an unconscious way - a journalist might not deliberately tack on a few extra points for an impressive press kit, but their excitement over it or other similar factors may sway their opinion slightly in one way or another.

This, of course, is just one form of bribery prevalent in the industry. Another one, although less common know in times of economic hardship in the industry than in, say, the early 2000s, is the practice of organizing almost comically luxurious press events. I've heard journalists ramble on about "better times" multiple times in podcasts and columns, with mentions of lavish parties and tons of freebies. The Finnish gaming magazine Pelaaja uploaded almost an hour's worth of video of their former editor-in-chief rummaging through the press goodies he'd collected from events over the years. I'm not implying that this has to do with the quality of the publication itself in this case, as Pelaaja is very respected both in Finland as well as Europe as a whole, but it makes our case very clear - handing out rose-coloured glasses to journalists is common practice in the industry. 

Any gamer with any insight into how the industry works will most likely be very aware of the bribery, and in some cases even oppression, that goes on behind the scenes. This is both a blessing and a problem - how can we trust anyone if developers are this shameless in wooing journalists? Who's to blame for bias in reviews, the perhaps unwitting journalist or the one doing the bribing? There have been many cases where games with actual merit have been blamed for paying for favourable reviews, and it is a favourite defense of those who don't like a critically acclaimed game and can't think of anything better to say. One could say that bribery has, in a way, instilled a sort of poisonous doubt in the minds of gamers that hurts both developers and journalists alike. Taking reviews with a pinch of salt is always healthy, but in cases where gamers don't really know who or what to believe, industry professionals should probably look in the mirror. Is a box full of novelty toys worth giving up one's professional integrity in the eyes of the public?

These issues and questions can be pondered from a variety of viewpoints and broadened to deal with the press in general. Enjoying the privileges that come with certain occupations is not a crime in itself, but constant personal reflection is incredibly important for a practicing journalist. Is what I'm doing affecting my professional worth? Will it be reflected in what I write down? Should it? If it does, how does it affect my readers? 

Keep asking yourself these questions, journos. I know I will once I get there.

(Edit: The day after posting this, I had an ethics lecture that dealt with bribery. Funny.)