There’s a familiar rhythm to how tech companies court our loyalty before inevitably betraying it. We’ve seen this dance play out across streaming services, social media platforms, and now, with heartbreaking predictability, in the gaming space. Xbox Game Pass, once hailed as the revolutionary savior of accessible gaming, has officially entered what can only be described as its villain arc. The recent price hikes and tier restructuring aren’t just business decisions—they’re the culmination of a pattern we should have seen coming from miles away.
What’s particularly galling about Microsoft’s latest moves is how transparently they’re targeting their most dedicated fans. The removal of day-one access for major titles like Call of Duty from the middle tier, coupled with a staggering 50% price increase for the premium offering, feels less like market adjustment and more like a calculated squeeze. This isn’t about gradual evolution; it’s about testing how much pain the faithful will endure before abandoning ship. The company that once positioned itself as the consumer-friendly alternative to Sony’s walled garden has now become the very thing it sought to disrupt.
The term ‘enshittification’ has been floating around tech circles for a while now, but its application to Game Pass feels particularly poignant. Cory Doctorow’s concept describes the lifecycle where platforms first attract users with great deals, then gradually shift value to business partners, before finally extracting everything from everyone involved. We’re witnessing the second phase in real time, where Microsoft is clearly prioritizing its own bottom line over the value proposition that made Game Pass special in the first place. The removal of meaningful discounts on DLC and games, replaced with the hollow promise of ‘more Rewards points,’ is the kind of corporate speak that would make even the most cynical MBA blush.
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of this entire saga is how it impacts the broader gaming ecosystem. As one developer insightfully noted, Game Pass creates a ‘gravity well’ that pulls developers into an unsustainable model. While the service theoretically offers exposure to smaller titles, the reality is that saturation has reached a point where indie games get lost in the shuffle just as they do on traditional storefronts. We’re creating a system where developers become dependent on subscription payouts while consumers grow accustomed to not actually owning anything—a precarious position for an industry built on creative expression.
Looking at the bigger picture, the Game Pass situation reflects a broader crisis in how we consume media and entertainment. We’ve traded ownership for access, convenience for control, and now we’re discovering the hidden costs of that bargain. The gradual erosion of value, the confusing tier structures, the nickel-and-diming for features that were once standard—these aren’t unique to gaming. They’re the hallmarks of a subscription economy reaching its logical conclusion. The question isn’t whether Game Pass will survive these changes, but whether what survives will be worth having at all.
About the Author
