As the gaming world gears up for The Game Awards 2025, there’s an unsettling quiet in one corner of the celebration. While titles like Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 and Death Stranding 2 dominate the headlines, an entire genre of games continues to be relegated to the background. The absence of a dedicated puzzle category at gaming’s biggest night feels increasingly like a deliberate oversight rather than an innocent omission. It’s as if we’re celebrating a feast while pretending an entire course doesn’t exist.
Looking at this year’s nominees reveals a fascinating landscape of gaming excellence, but also exposes the industry’s persistent blind spots. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 leading the pack with its innovative approach to tactical RPGs demonstrates how far gaming has come in terms of narrative complexity and mechanical depth. Yet the very structure of these awards categories suggests that certain types of intelligence—the kind required to untangle intricate puzzles—are somehow less worthy of celebration than others. It’s a hierarchy of gaming virtues that feels increasingly outdated in an era where games like The Roottress are Dead and Blue Prince are pushing the boundaries of what puzzle games can be.
The argument that puzzle games can compete in other categories like “Games for Impact” or indie sections misses the fundamental point. It’s like telling a master chef they can only compete in the dessert category regardless of what they’ve cooked. Puzzle games deserve recognition for what they are, not for what they’re adjacent to. The mental gymnastics required to solve a well-designed puzzle, the elegant simplicity of a perfect solution, the sheer creativity behind games like The Séance of Blake Manor—these achievements deserve their own spotlight, not just a chance to be the token “thinking person’s game” in categories dominated by different kinds of excellence.
What’s particularly frustrating is that 2025 would have been the perfect year to introduce this category. The gaming landscape is richer than ever with diverse experiences, and the puzzle genre itself has evolved beyond simple match-three mechanics into complex narrative experiences and brain-bending challenges. The continued exclusion sends a subtle message about what kinds of gaming achievements we value most—and what kinds we’re willing to overlook. It reinforces the idea that certain genres are inherently more “prestigious” than others, a notion that feels increasingly disconnected from how real people actually play and appreciate games.
As we celebrate the incredible achievements represented by this year’s nominees, from the anticipated grandeur of Grand Theft Auto VI to the tactical brilliance of Civilization VII, we should also recognize the quiet revolution happening in the puzzle space. The absence of a puzzle category at The Game Awards isn’t just an oversight—it’s a statement about what we consider worthy of celebration in gaming. Perhaps it’s time we expanded our definition of gaming excellence to include not just the stories we experience or the worlds we explore, but the problems we solve and the mental pathways we forge in the process. After all, isn’t that what gaming has always been about at its core?