July 9 marks the beginning of the second week of competition in the heavily maligned Esports World Cup. The inaugural tournament is taking place in Saudi Arabia and is funded by the Saudi government, which is offering a prize pool of $60 million dollars for competitors and their respective organizations. The tournament includes 21 different genres of competition and promises to be the largest esports event of the year.
Here’s the rub. This tournament specifically comes at a tumultuous time. Organizations have increasingly felt the backlash for their choice to either partake or abstain from the competition. The backdrop of an “esports winter” being at its apex helps to better contextualize the actions of the athletes and organizations in question.
As players, owners and fans grapple with the complex issue of profitability in the esports space, ethical dilemmas arise surrounding the procurement of capital on a global scale. It’s no secret that the Saudi Arabian government has a track record of human rights violations and dogmatic policies that are at odds with mainstream Western viewpoints. Associating with these governmental bodies inevitably broaches the ethical question of the source and cost of such an ornate and bountiful event.
Are we, as esports fans, to be led to believe that our community is capable enough to engage in social consciousness-raising? In a world where dignitaries and visionaries have levied social critiques at the monolith of American culture that is sports, I can’t help but wonder: where do esports athletes stand in all of this? Memories of the “shut up and dribble” discourse remind us of the dichotomy of expectations placed on athletes. Keep the show running and put up your best effort, but don’t make your presence heard. Dance and sing, but don’t think or speak.
Travis Gafford, a highly regarded journalist, exemplified the thoughts of the rabble that is the League of Legends community when the ethical question of the Esports World Cup is raised. In contrast, some personalities have pivoted this influx of engagements to their benefit and become vocal spokespersons for the Esports World Cup.
Regardless, there has been and continues to be a movement to boycott coverage of the festivities. As a result of this aimed attempt to distance the community from the geopolitical and cross-cultural baggage the Esports World Cup brings, the League of Legends portion of the games became the least-viewed international tournament in six years.
As is often the case, actions speak louder than words. Players, on-air talent and organizations have all been under a microscope. What should have been seen as a lifeline towards profitability and growth for the esports scene has become a source of dismay and disillusionment. If there is any hope in sustaining and growing the esports scene that we have come to love and admire, eventually we as a community must come to a sobering reality – the reality that cash is king and not all money is clean money, no matter how much we wish it to be.
No, esports athletes aren’t going to be ventricles for our political ideologies, nor should they be. We as a community have been fighting to be recognized and taken seriously for years. Now that the community has risen to the heights of having nationally recognized events that are the size of the Asian Games and the Esports World Cup, we are expected to begin our foray into the ethos of our community and to contemplate its morality. Let the community have this. Let the players shine and represent us, the fans, and show the soaring heights that esports can aspire to and why we have come to love our sport.
Ricardo Luna is an Opinion Intern for summer 2024. He can be reached at lunar5@uci.edu.
Edited by Trista Lara, Jaheem Conley and Jacob Ramos.