In recent years, the gaming industry has undergone a significant shift in its design philosophy, particularly in the realm of character creation. Once rooted in creativity and audience engagement, the focus has increasingly shifted toward meeting ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) benchmarks and complying with diversity and inclusivity mandates.
This change has dramatically impacted gaming culture and aesthetics, dividing fans and igniting heated debates about the industry’s creative direction. Notably, the past two years have seen more high-budget commercial failures than the rest of gaming history combined.
ESG criteria have gained prominence in the gaming sector, largely due to their importance in modern investment strategies. Major asset managers like BlackRock and Vanguard, known for their substantial stakes in large corporations use ESG scores to assess corporate responsibility.
These scores incentivize companies to prioritize sustainability, inclusivity, and equity, as doing so increases their appeal to ESG-aligned hedge funds, though by the words of BlackRock’s CEO, Larry Fink, ESG is primarily used to “force behavioral change.”
While these goals might seem commendable on the surface, their execution undermines creativity, replacing innovative design with formulaic compliance to perceived social standards. The result is a wave of content that many gamers find alienating and off-putting, leading to lackluster sales for titles steeped in ideological messaging.
To improve ESG scores, many companies have adopted diversity-focused hiring practices, which in some cases foster bias against White men and favor less qualified candidates based solely on race or gender. This prioritization of optics over merit has driven a wedge between developers and consumers, with many gamers choosing to reject titles they perceive as pandering to an ideological agenda. Predictably, this has translated into financial flops for companies attempting to cash in on ESG-driven mandates.
Fearing social stigma and backlash, studios shy away from tackling nuanced themes or exploring bold character traits, opting instead for “safe” representations aligned with ESG-driven mandates. This approach flattens the gaming landscape, sacrificing narrative depth and character variety in the name of inclusivity. Ironically, this trend erases traditional portrayals of femininity, with female characters that once celebrated individuality or embodied gender-specific traits increasingly replaced by designs leaning toward androgyny or overtly masculine aesthetics.
Gamers argue that this trend prioritizes controversy avoidance over genuine creativity. Overly “feminine” designs risk being labeled as perpetuating outdated gender stereotypes, while the push to blur distinctions between men and women seems tailored to appease Californian sensitivities and attract a niche audience.
This shift ignores the reality that the overwhelming majority of gamers are heterosexual men and that even women prefer playing as attractive characters. Yet, the industry remains obsessed with churning out unattractive, visually unappealing female characters to satisfy today’s perpetually outraged social media mobs and pandering game journalists.
This year’s The Game Awards dished out another steaming pile of performative progressivism, with the spotlight hijacked by Naughty Dog’s announcement of Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet.
The game introduces one of the most off-putting female protagonists in recent memory, a muscular, shaved-headed woman of color who looks like a bizarre Asian-Hispanic male mashup, sporting tiny breasts and tattoos from head to toe. Predictably, actual gamers have been roasting this atrocity online, while gaming journalists continue running PR defense for yet another “progressive” soapbox disguised as entertainment that will likely be Sony’s second Concord moment in as many years.
However, one announcement that flew under the radar during the awards was Borderlands 4.
I used to be a huge fan of the franchise, which started as a brilliant mashup of Diablo-style loot grinding and RPG mechanics with FPS gameplay. Borderlands 2 took it up a notch, with the charisma of Handsome Jack alone carrying the game of which was filled to the brim with dated edgy humor.
But like all things that hit the mainstream, the series eventually met a slow, agonizing death as its original fans were sidelined in favor of a new target demographic that couldn’t care less about what made it great.
Borderlands 3 was a complete narrative trainwreck, drowned in modern Reddit-tier humor, cringe-worthy jokes, and abysmal writing. The story shifted its focus to a pair of obnoxious Twitch streamer-inspired villains, with the “stunning and brave” short-haired girlboss conveniently cast as the muscle of the duo. Beloved characters were dragged back into the limelight, only to be sporadically killed off in favor of handing the torch to insufferable new ones who never grow from their mistakes while others are brought back solely to reveal their sexual orientation.
The game even featured a DLC campaign centered around the gay wedding of Wainwright Jakobs and Sir Hammerlock, shoehorned in to tick identity politics boxes. It introduced the franchise’s first openly trans character while also pushing fan-favorite Tiny Tina into a lesbian. For me, Borderlands 3 was the breaking point, its atrocious storytelling and forced modern identity politics buried what was left of the franchise’s charm.
And now, we’re expected to endure yet another sequel that’ll build upon the worst aspects of its predecessor.
The Borderlands series has always thrived on its chaotic energy and a cast of wildly unique, unforgettable characters. From Borderlands 2’s Gaige and her killer robot Deathtrap to the enigmatic, ninja-like Zer0, and even the larger-than-life Brick from the original game, every character embodied individuality and raw creativity.
But that spirit took a nosedive with Borderlands 3.
Now, Borderlands 4 feels like a product designed to fit modern corporate checklists more so than it was before. ESG criteria and the ever-present push for “inclusivity” seem to have dictated the design process, replacing bold, risk-taking creativity with cookie-cutter archetypes that feel more like they belong in an HR training video than in a chaotic loot-shooter, hence why Gearbox opted against “discriminating” against “little people” by removing “midget” enemies in favor of calling them “tinks” instead.
The character designs in Borderlands 4 epitomize the industry’s growing fixation on prioritizing diversity and inclusivity at the expense of distinctiveness and creative flair. Each Vault Hunter feels like a checkbox for visual archetypes, ensuring diverse racial representation and an equal mix of genders.
First up, we have a bland, brown-skinned male character with little to distinguish him visually beyond a nose ring, a stark contrast to the unique personalities and eccentricities of past Borderlands characters.
The Siren, once an iconic class known for its distinctiveness, now leans into a hardened, masculinity-tinged aesthetic. A woman of color with angular features, short hair, and minimal feminine flair, she feels like a deliberate departure from the charm of previous Sirens like Lilith, Maya, and even Borderlands 3’s Amara, whose design was already divisive for similar reasons.
Next, we get the obligatory brawny male, a staple archetype in the franchise. However, his armor and overall design lack the outrageous, larger-than-life energy of classics like Brick or Salvador from Borderlands 2. Instead, he comes off as uninspired, almost sterile in his presentation.
Finally, the worst offender: a tech-themed Black character on the far right, complete with bulky gloves, gadgets, and the predictable ethnic styling we’ve seen time and again. While the franchise once thrived on wacky, over-the-top designs, Borderlands 4’s lineup feels like a watered-down attempt to appeal to focus groups rather than the series’ core audience.
The lack of nuance in her design makes her feel like nothing more than a checkbox for diversity quotas, and it’s likely she’s a self-insert from one of the developers.
The result is a character roster that lacks the charm and distinctiveness fans have come to expect. Rather than celebrating diversity through well-developed and creative personalities, these characters feel like they were conceived by a committee to hit specific targets.
The outcome is a bland, uniform cast that could easily pass as NPCs from previous Borderlands titles only with even less charm and individuality.
True inclusivity stems from meaningful representation, not superficial attempts to appease critics by just ticking off racial boxes.
But, of course, gaming journalists will fawn over these designs, completely ignoring the fact that countless games filled with similarly uninspired characters, often more repellent are slammed by players. Journalists are quick to defend the corporations behind these products, pushing narratives of bigotry on audiences who reject them, or in the case of Jules Hardy, BBC Gaming presenter they call for a purge of those who resist such practices.
Unfortunately for them, labeling consumers as racists for rejecting subpar, “ugly” products doesn’t translate into sales. In fact, 2024 has seen a surge in commercial flops, with games like Sony’s Concord losing anywhere from $200 to $400 million, while Ubisoft is teetering on the brink of collapse after lackluster releases like Star Wars Outlaws and the inevitable failure of Assassin’s Creed Shadows.
Journalists have shown time and again how their cognitive dissonance and bias blind them to the reality: modern game developers often serve as political activists first, and many have come to actively despise consumers.
The latest TechRadar piece, titled “The New Vault Hunter Designs in Borderlands 4 Are Fine Actually, You’re All Just Being Mean,” written by Christian Guyton, boldly defends what’s hard to justify. Guyton praises these designs as “appropriate for the Borderlands universe,” though anyone with a true understanding of the franchise would disagree.
Borderlands was once celebrated for its over-the-top aesthetics and unapologetic attitude, but now, the Vault Hunters seem tailor-made for DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) checklists. When a game focuses more on hitting quotas than on creating memorable, unique characters, the results are painfully obvious.
Instead of crafting Vault Hunters that capture the franchise’s signature chaotic energy, Gearbox has doubled down on ideological pandering, ensuring that nobody could possibly feel excluded. Ironically, in trying so hard to please everyone, they’ve succeeded in alienating the one group that actually matters: the fans.
Guyton’s article reads like a desperate plea for gamers to stop being “mean” and embrace mediocrity, as if we’re somehow obligated to buy visually unappealing garbage just for the sake of being “good Samaritans.” According to the author, because it’s a video game, it should be universally appealing.
He defends the designs as “appropriate,” claiming that the criticism comes from nostalgia or an unwillingness to accept change. But let’s be clear: fans aren’t upset because the designs are new, they’re upset because they’re terrible. Borderlands 3 received similar praise for its uninspired designs, with the only exception being FL4K, a robotic character wrapped in a thick coat.
Yet, in typical Gearbox fashion, they couldn’t resist preaching by declaring FL4K as non-binary.
There’s no denying that the artificial push for diversity and inclusivity has deeply affected the gaming industry from within, despite journalists and activists insisting there’s no such agenda. Articles like the one from TechRadar essentially pivot toward acknowledging the shift with a message of “it’s happening, and here’s why it’s a good thing.”
Skilled employees are being replaced by hires who check the right diversity boxes but lack the necessary talent, expertise, and experience to tackle large-scale, complex projects built on custom game engines. This shift is one reason the industry is increasingly adopting Unreal Engine as the standard, making it easier for new developers to jump into AAA environments with minimal effort and avoid the challenge of adapting to proprietary engines they aren’t familiar with.
As the industry continues to crumble under the weight of ESG-driven design, it’s becoming clear that creativity is being sacrificed for the sake of political correctness, further alienating the very consumers that once supported it.
What made gaming great were bold ideas, unapologetic characters, and the willingness to embrace a bit of chaos. Now, it’s become painfully clear that gamers are no longer the target audience for video games, no one really is.
First impressions are everything in this industry, and if your character designs are pitifully bad or incomprehensibly ugly, you’re only going to drive potential customers away. By going off the deep end and trying to create a product that “caters to everyone,” you end up making something for nobody.
ESG and DEI initiatives aren’t really about uplifting marginalized groups or races; they’re a ploy for forced compliance and ethical regulation. The industry’s reluctance to create attractive female characters of color proves this is less about inclusivity and more about ticking boxes for political correctness.
Because these people hate your guts, journalists hate your guts, and game developers openly boast about making their games progressive, ugly, and drenched in modern-day ethics and ideological nonsense, all for the sake of antagonizing outspoken individuals like Elon Musk. Musk has highlighted the fact that the ideological invasion of gaming has decimated the art form, turning what was once an avenue for creative expression into a tool for activism.
The industry’s reluctance to create attractive female characters of color proves that the values of ESG are nothing but a facade. It’s less about genuine inclusivity and more about ticking boxes to satisfy political correctness by making everyone ugly and genderless.
The gaming industry, once the playground of daring ideas and boundless creativity, has now become a battleground for ideologies that seek to reshape the medium according to their own political agenda. Instead of crafting experiences that entertain and challenge, developers are focusing on ticking off boxes, ensuring every narrative, character, and design is tailored to fit a prescribed set of moral standards.
In doing so, they’ve sacrificed the very essence of what made games great in the first place: creativity, individuality, and, above all, fun.
As this shift continues, it’s clear that gamers, those who made gaming a global phenomenon are being cast aside. The passion, the grit, and the love for the art form are being replaced by a hollow attempt to appease the loudest critics and serve a far-left agenda. The result? Games that feel like they’re made for everyone and yet, ironically, for no one.
The true consequence of this ideological crusade is not just alienating players but robbing the industry of its soul. It’s no longer about creating worlds to escape into, it’s about forcing a worldview upon the very people who made gaming what it is today.
