On Game Launchers

If you're a consumer of PC games and you're not clinging desperately to the past, you probably have a Steam account. Valve Corporation's digital distribution platform may have been controversial, when it was first established in 2003 and when the highly anticipated Half-Life 2 launched using Steam for DRM toward the end of the following year — for, at the time, PC games were still most commonly sold on discs, and the thought of digital distribution overtaking physical media was anathema — but over the past decade-and-a-half, those who were resistant to digital distribution in general, and to Steam in particular, have either changed their minds, accepted defeat, or abandoned PC games as a hobby. Digital distribution won, and Steam cornered the market.

Digital Distribution: Deal With It

Of course, some still refuse to use Steam, and some even refuse to pay for digital distribution (whether that means missing out on most PC games or getting them illegally). Among those who do use Steam, however, many believe that the leading PC game store has justified its place at the top, if not earned it outright. As a store and as a download client, Steam is pretty solid; Steam sales are famous for a reason, and the Steam client is a prime example of why digital distribution really isn't that bad.

Yes, I am old enough to remember the good old days when games came on discs. I especially remember entering product keys, manually downloading and installing patches, and needing to put the disc back into the computer every time I wanted to play certain games. Modern digital distribution eliminates these particular nuisances. In many ways, having a fully digital game collection is just more convenient than having a shelf full of discs, so it's no surprise that so many of us have forgiven the fact that we don't really own the games we buy from digital distributors. If Steam ever goes belly up, we will all lose our Steam libraries — but in the meantime, at least Steam games have one-click installation and automatic updates.

Steam's other features help too. Some of them have come to be fairly common in game launchers, such as friends lists and achievements. Others are less common and, when brought together in one (slightly bloated but still user-friendly) package, they make Steam a pleasure to use, even in comparison to other digital distribution clients. Among the Steam client features I've used personally are user reviews, cloud saves, family sharing, in-home streaming, profile customization, group chat, voice chat, an in-game overlay with a web browser, community forums, user-submitted guides for each game, a system for sharing user-created mods, and the ability to add non-Steam games to the Steam interface. (There's also that community market on which you can sell those silly trading cards for store credit, or buy cards if you actually want them for some reason, but I think most causal Steam users ignore that.)

In summary, what was once an annoying launcher for a mid-2000s first-person shooter has become something actually useful that we don't mind having installed. But Steam isn't the only digital distribution platform for games. It's just the biggest. What about the other platforms? Are they worth using?

Everything in One Place

If you just think of each digital distribution platform as a store, it's easy to justify straying from Steam to buy games elsewhere. Whenever you want to buy something, you should at least compare prices on a few different stores. (PC games are no exception; if a game is sold in more than one place, Steam isn't guaranteed to have the best price for any given game at any given moment.) However, a digital distributor is not just a store. It's also an online repository for all the stuff you bought from the store.

Maybe this doesn't matter if you manage to avoid ever downloading anything twice, but digital content is ephemeral and disappears if you press the wrong button, so you might need to download it again. Doing so will require logging in to the account you created at the store from which you bought your digital product. Shopping around and always buying from whichever store has the lowest price on a given thing seems like a good idea, but if you end up using a dozen different stores to buy games then you'll need to keep track of a dozen different accounts in order to maintain access to all of your games.

Most major digital distributors also make you use their client software to download, install, and launch your games, so buying and downloading games from multiple digital retailers also means installing multiple launchers. (GOG is one of a few exceptions, as their games are DRM-free and thus their Galaxy launcher is optional, but if you buy games from Uplay, Origin, Battle.net, and the Epic Games store, you'll need the respective launchers if you actually want to play those games.) Are we okay with having two launchers installed? How about having three or four of them?

Personally, I don't think it's a big deal, but a lot of people don't like it. Some see all launchers as bloatware (and would prefer direct downloads of DRM-free games, as from stores like GOG). Others appreciate the convenience of a launcher, but believe this convenience is greatly diminished as the number of launchers increases. The latter view is actually more common, as most of us have accepted the futility of trying to build a fully DRM-free PC game collection in the digital distribution era, and just want to settle for the next best thing: an entire game collection consolidated on exactly one launcher.

I can absolutely see the appeal of it. Having all of your games in one place keeps your collection organized, and gives you one-click access to every game without logging in to more than one online service. On the other hand, you're also ensuring that you'll lose absolutely everything if you lose access to that one account. Those of us who use more than one platform, on the other hand, would at least have something left if we lost our Steam accounts. Maybe it's a good idea to diversify your game collection instead of putting all your eggs in one basket. The idea of Steam going permanently offline is very hypothetical, as there's no indication that it will happen in the near future; and individual accounts being banned, stolen, or otherwise lost is extremely unlikely unless the account's owner does something very wrong — but all of these things are still possible.

For what it's worth, if had to tie my entire game collection to one launcher, I would choose Steam as well, and not just because it's the most feature-rich and fully developed platform. Unfortunately for its competitors, Steam's main two advantages: the most games and the most users. The appeal of the latter is obvious; your friends are more likely to be on Steam than on any other digital distribution platform. (GOG Galaxy has a friends list too but, for me, it's empty.) Meanwhile, Steam having the most games tells its users that they don't need to go anywhere else, even if they don't really mind creating accounts on other sites and having their game collections split across multiple libraries, and those who do want to limit themselves to one account and one launcher would be crazy not to choose the platform with the largest number of games for sale.

Competition versus Convenience

So competitors with no hope of competing with the volume of Steam's catalog need to find another way to stand out. GOG has its own niche, specializing mostly in selling old games updated for modern systems and selling them DRM-free. Humble Bundle also sells some DRM-free games (in addition to lots of Steam keys) and, as the name implies, still specializes in limited-time indie game bundles (even though the site has long had a full-time store). Both GOG and Humble also describe themselves as curated in order to differentiate their offerings from Steam's nauseatingly long list of games.

Some other digital distribution platforms might not even be considered direct competitors to Steam, as they act primarily as single-publisher stores — namely Blizzard's Battle.net, Ubisoft's Uplay, and EA's Origin. Playing games which are exclusive to these platforms or require their DRM is really the only reason to use them, but people do use them. These stores don't need to be better platforms than Steam, because they know customers will be drawn in by the few popular games over which they have exclusive control.

Steam's newest and most controversial competitor, the Epic Games store, is similar to Uplay and Origin in that it clearly intends to thrive on exclusive games as opposed to trying to create a better user experience than what is offered by Steam. What makes Epic Games controversial is that they're not content to have exclusive control over the games they publish. They've been spending a massive amount of money on exclusivity deals for other companies' games, essentially paying those companies not to do business with Steam. This isn't a new tactic, but they've used it on games which were days away from release on Steam, as well as games which were crowdfunded with the expectation of a Steam release. The fact that Tencent (and thus, allegedly, China itself) owns 40% of Epic Games doesn't help its popularity, nor does the fact that the Epic Games store and client are so pathetically bare-bones in terms of features because Epic Games is more interested in buying exclusivity than improving the user experience, nor does the fact that Epic Games' recent "Epic Mega Sale" was such a poorly planned disaster that some publishers pulled their games.

I started writing this post because the dominance of Steam, the (often exaggerated) rise of Epic Games, and the benefits of a single consolidated game library versus the need for competition among retailers seem to be hot topics lately. In particular, I've noticed an increase in complaints about PC gamers needing too many launchers to play all of the games they want to play. These complaints often boil down to frustration over games not being released on Steam; the "no Steam, no buy" crowd has always existed, but now it seems to me that they're either more numerous or more vocal. Either way, it's clearly a backlash against Epic Games, driven largely by the company's recent attempts to strongarm its way to the forefront of PC game retail.

Epic Games has done some nice things, both for consumers (like the ongoing spree of free giveaways), and for developers (like taking a smaller revenue cut than many other stores), but they've doubled down so hard on the one thing that pisses people off — buying exclusivity for games that were already advertised on other stores — that it's hard to see their negative reputation as undeserved. And yet, despite their credibility being in the trash, there are people who defend Epic in online debates — vicious Epic-versus-Steam debates which, of course, tend to frame the issue as if we each need to choose exactly one store from which to buy our PC games. I don't agree with that premise, but I'm not in a hurry to give Epic Games any money either, given their business practices. The pro-Epic side often cites healthy competition between companies as a good thing for consumers, but I'm not sure how much that really applies when Epic's main strategy thus far has been to take away consumers' choices regarding where to buy certain popular games. Boycotts rarely work, but I must say I'm inclined not to buy any Epic exclusives.

Epic does have a chance with me, though, if the company can stop acting like a super villain for five minutes. Each of Steam's other competitors has found its place in my game collection by doing what they do best. I made a GOG account for the DRM-free games, a Humble Bundle account for their bundles, and a Uplay account because I wanted to play some Ubisoft games, and an Origin account because I bought some Origin-exclusive games. I even have an Epic account, not because they bought exclusive distribution rights for a game I wanted to play, but because (as noted above) they've given away a bunch of free games and I figured I might as well grab them. So congratulations, Epic, you got your foot in the door. Now find a niche that isn't "games whose publishers were paid to stay away from Steam" and you might really have my attention.

Of course, getting me to create an account is the first hurdle, and getting me to install the desktop client is the second. I haven't installed Epic's launcher, because I currently have enough games to play without the free ones they gave me, but I do have GOG Galaxy and Uplay installed on my PC right now. I don't see why it's a bad thing to have more than one installed. The vast majority of my games are still on Steam, so the other launchers are more seldom used, but having them on my hard drive doesn't bother me. Neither does having my game collection split across multiple services, although I realize that's simply a matter of personal preference.

Solutions

The only real problem I've had with using multiple services is that sometimes I forget which games I own. I'm really, honestly, not kidding. Part of the problem is that I buy so many cheap games that my backlog is large enough for me to forget what's in it, but the inability to see all of my games in one library can turn forgetfulness into wastefulness. When Steam had its summer sale last year, I almost bought Oxenfree and Beyond Good and Evil before realizing that I already had both games, on GOG and Uplay, respectively. I hadn't remember purchasing them because I had gotten both in free giveaways, and I hadn't played them when I got them simply because I was too busy. Not seeing them in my most frequently used PC game launcher, I forgot I ever had them.

Given that I had acquired these games on GOG and Uplay precisely because those stores had given them away for free, whereas both games still cost money on Steam, I don't think using only Steam would have been the right solution. Besides, it's too late for that now. To keep better track of what's in my Steam library in the future, I've started using Playnite, which can automatically import games from various accounts — Battle.net, Bethesda, Epic Games, GOG, itch.io, Origin, Steam, Twitch, and Uplay — and act as a front-end for all of those launchers, with the ability to install, launch, and uninstall games. It has some limitations, such as the fact that the current version can only import Uplay games which are already installed (whereas it can import all owned games from other platforms), but it's still pretty nice.

Playnite has been criticized as being simply one more launcher, and thus an unsuitable solution to the problem of having too many launchers. For those who take that point of view, the ability to import all of their games into one of the launchers they're already using would be a better solution. Steam users can import non-Steam games into the Steam client, but that's a manual process, so it's worthless if you have a lot of non-Steam games. The upcoming GOG Galaxy 2.0, a major update to the existing GOG Galaxy launcher, will do much better by including many of the same features as Playnite. This is a pretty smart move for GOG, because many of the people using GOG Galaxy are using it as a secondary launcher alongside Steam. I, for one, don't open GOG Galaxy nearly as often as Steam, but maybe GOG Galaxy 2.0 will be my go-to launcher after I import all of my Steam games into it. It might even make Playnite obsolete.

If GOG Galaxy 2.0 catches on, then there might be a day when every major store's launcher can automatically import games from users' accounts on every other major store. Of course, GOG Galaxy 2.0 will still launch Steam games through Steam and so on, so we'd still need all of our launchers installed in order to make any use of such features.

Conclusions

I've already acknowledged that I think Steam is rather nice while the Epic Games store is, in some ways, obnoxiously bad. However, I'm pretty sure I don't need to choose one. If I really want to play some game that's only on the Epic Games store, I don't need to delete my Steam account in order to play it. Take that simple fact and apply it to every rational consumer, and you'll come to the conclusion that the "Epic versus Steam" debates often miss (intentionally, I'm sure, for the sake of sensationalism): Even if Epic Games' giveaways and exclusive games convince every Steam user to create an Epic Games store account, Steam still won't go out of business. There's really no reason to get so worked up over it.

If you like old games, indie games, or DRM-free games, you likely have a GOG or Humble account (and if you don't, you should). If you happen to like certain Ubisoft or EA games, you probably have a Uplay or Origin account. You might even have an Epic account now, as well, if you noticed the 17 games they've given away for free this year. I have accounts on all of these stores for various reasons. So my game collection is fractured, spread across multiple services, but it saves me the trouble of agonizing over whether a game is available on, or cheapest on, my one service of choice.

Family Sharing on Steam

Recently, Valve announced yet another new addition to Steam, called Family Sharing, which is to be launched in limited beta next week.

The new feature will allow you to authorize a "shared computer" on which others can download and play the games on your account. The official announcement doesn't specify whether these other players will need to be on your Steam friends list, but it's safe to assume they'll need to make their own separate Steam accounts if they haven't done so already. In return, they'll get separately logged achievements and saved progress for the games they "borrow" from your library. According to the FAQ shown here, up to ten devices can be authorized for sharing at once, but only one person is allowed to play the games from a single library at any given time.

The idea of sharing games on Steam sounds like a pretty big deal — a game changer, if you'll allow the terrible pun — but is it all it's cracked up to be? While you and some of your friends could, in theory, share the same pool of Steam games, time management would be an issue. Since a friend can only borrow your library when you're not playing, the Family Sharing feature amounts to little more than a safer alternative to the unofficial method of sharing Steam games — that is, letting your friend have your password.

Tighter restrictions might also be implemented later on — it's easy to imagine some kind of time limit on "borrowed" games, for example, or a drastic decrease in the number of shared computers allowed, or a drastic decrease in the number of games available for sharing — so we can only wait and see if the finer details of Family Sharing prove too good to be true after the beta is over. In the meantime, it might help to read those details carefully. There already are some games which can't be shared, according to the Family Sharing FAQ, namely those requiring "an additional third-party key, account, or subscription." While this limitation is technical, it makes me wonder if some developers will make sure their games are exempt from sharing by implementing any of these already-quite-irritating requirements.

So let's say Family Sharing doesn't live up to our expectations. Does this mean Steam's version of sharing is a bad thing? Not really. Any amount of sharing is extremely valuable for those who like to try before they buy (especially when playable demos are such a rarity these days). A lot of players supposedly engage in piracy for this purpose alone, and Family Sharing might present an alternative to some. It all depends on whether getting a friend to share on your computer (and then finding time to play when he or she is offline) is more of a hassle than finding a good torrent. As always, Steam has to treat piracy as a competitor. The problem will never go away, so the only real solution for digital distributors is to make their services so convenient that we don't mind giving them our money.

For many, however, no combination of convenience and competitive pricing can change their view that digital goods mean a loss of consumer rights. Being allowed to resell a thing that you've purchased is often considered a right, but it can't be done with Steam games. There's no thriving second-hand market for downloaded content because customers are rarely allowed to transfer "ownership" of what they've purchased. Even sharing without breaking the law can be difficult. While Steam can certainly try to remedy this situation, it might not be feasible for a digital distributor to emulate the way in which physical media can be shared legitimately among friends and family. Digital rights management always gets in the way somehow, often ruining the experience, while the total absence of digital rights management leads people to stop sharing and start giving away free copies. Neither scenario is ideal. (There are some DRM-free digital distributors, like Humble Bundle and GOG.com, but they're basically operating on the honor system, and they can only pull it off because their customers like them enough to support them voluntarily.)

Although any publisher of any intellectual property, retail or digital, might prefer that your friends buy their own copies of whatever you have, borrowing physical media is so commonplace that nobody really complains. But is it only allowed because it can't be avoided? Nintendo didn't try to stop me from lending my copy of Metroid Prime to a friend back in 7th grade because lending GameCube discs is legally and socially acceptable, but what's more important is that, unlike a digital distributor, they had no way of stopping me. The same can be said of music CDs, paperback books, and anything else you can physically hand off to your good pal. It always felt a little unfair that digitally distributed games like those on Steam — or, in fact, any game protected by any form of DRM, even if it comes on a disc — cannot be shared in the same way as your favorite book... but hey, maybe we're just spoiled by centuries of unauthorized sharing gone unpunished.

In any case, Steam's new Family Sharing feature will not erase all the perceived injustices of DRM, and Valve had its own arguably evil part to play in the rise of online DRM with the introduction of Steam back in 2003, but it seems to be a step back in the right direction. (At the very least, it certainly isn't a step in the wrong direction, since they're giving us some new options and taking none away.) The new feature on Steam certainly isn't a perfect imitation of "real" sharing, but it's a decent compromise.

The known limitations, while forgivable, are numerous. For example, your Steam library is shared not with a person but with a single computer, which means the so-called borrower cannot simply play your shared library anywhere he or she wants. Furthermore, you cannot lend a dozen of your games to a dozen different friends, since your library can only be shared on ten computers. Finally, since only one account can access a lender's library at a time, a single borrower essentially reserves the entire library instead of grabbing a single game. You can't let your friend play one game while you play another, so it's kind of like lending your copy of The Kite Runner to a friend when all the books on your shelf are glued together.

This kind of sharing does have some perks, though. After I lent that copy of Metroid Prime to that friend, I never got it back. If you're sharing your Steam games, you don't have to worry about this, and you can even boot your friend out of your library while he or she is playing if you've decided it's your turn to play. (According to the FAQ linked above, the other person will be given a few minutes to finish up or to buy their own copy of the game. How kind.) Better yet, since it's all digital, there's no "sorry, I scratched the disc" or "oh man, my mom sold it at the yard sale." The fact that your entire library is shared at once can also be a good thing, unless your friend is a young kid who needs to stay away from your bloody murder simulators.

It's entirely possible that Family Sharing will make Steam more attractive to those who usually avoid buying digital copies. Many of them, however, will probably continue to avoid Steam on principle, regardless of how Steam's features and restrictions might affect them personally. Even those of us who are always online, and always signed in, can be annoyed when going online and signing in is a requirement for installing a game. Even those of us who don't think Valve is likely to go suddenly bankrupt can be angry about what would happen if our accounts were to vanish into thin air. Even those of us who only care to share our Steam libraries with a single friend might be critical of the fact that we can't allow more than some arbitrary number of shared computers. Unfortunately for consumers of PC games, however, DRM is a fact of life. It has been for years. At least Steam makes it relatively painless most of the time.

I won't say they're adding this Family Sharing feature out of the goodness of their hearts — that's not how businesses operate. The most altruistic motivation they can have is the hope of bringing in new customers by improving their image. In this case, they might also be responding to the problem of accounts being shared off the record. You can share your Steam account without the help of Family Sharing simply by giving your password to a trusted friend, and Valve obviously knows some people are doing this. Instead of alienating customers by enforcing tighter restrictions, they're embracing the idea of sharing, but with sane limits. They can't stop us from sharing our accounts, but they can try to keep sharing under control if they can convince us to do it their way.

The Death of Used Games (Or Not)

I've long speculated that digital rights management doesn't really exist for the sake of stopping software piracy, but rather to stop people from buying used games. After all, DRM almost always fails to stop piracy (especially of single player games), while the potential second-hand market of any game is completely destroyed as soon as any form of DRM is implemented.

The PC gaming community has largely gotten over this, because we've had to deal with it for so many years. Many of us have even embraced digital distributors like Steam (and, to a lesser extent, Origin), whose downloadable games, forever tied to online accounts, cannot be resold or even returned. Surely we're all aware that this isn't the natural state of things — that when we pay for something, we should own it — but we're quickly moving toward an all-digital era in which the things we buy aren't really "things" at all. Perhaps video games are actually behind the times, in that regard. You can't resell the songs you buy on iTunes, and people stopped complaining about that a long time ago.

However, while people who buy PC games have had plenty of time to digest the prospect of a non-existent used game market and sales that feel more like indefinite rentals (which might need to be "returned" if the company running the authentication server goes bankrupt), console owners have not. They're ignorant of much of this, and what I've heard is that they're about to get a rude awakening.

It's not a new rumor, but it's been started up anew thanks to fresh quotes from Eidos co-founder Ian Livingston, who says (according to Destructoid):

With the next Xbox, you supposedly have to have an internet connection, and the discs are watermarked, whereby once played on one console it won’t play on another. So I think the generation after that will be digital-only

Whether the games for the next Xbox will each be married to an Xbox Live account, or to the physical hardware inside of an Xbox, I'm not really sure. Either way, this is bad news for GameStop, GameFly, and anyone else who wants to make money by selling or renting out used games. If DRM has been the industry's attempt to destroy the used game market, this will be the final nail in the coffin. Certainly, we'll still be able to privately resell some of our non-Xbox games — DRM-free PC games, for example — but with an entire next-generation console taken out of the equation, there won't be enough business to justify having a shelf for pre-owned games at any game store.

I suppose I should point out that I don't really care if GameStop goes out of business or resorts to selling new merchandise exclusively — their prices for used games are awful anyway — but the whole idea of eliminating used games on an entire platform is bad for players as well. Sure, those of us playing PC games have gotten used to this, and we've learned to compromise with the current state of things, but nobody wants another step in the wrong direction.

Nobody except greedy developers and delusional fanboys, I mean.

There are those who will claim that used games are actually bad for the game industry, despite the fact that no other industry needs to have its workers complain about the used sale of its products. (When was the last time someone told you that buying used furniture is bad for the furniture industry?) They'll even say that buying a used game is just as bad as piracy, because it puts no money in the hands of developers, despite the fact that it does put money back in the hands of people who buy new games... and despite the fact that, while piracy is morally questionable, buying a thing from a person who owns that thing is not. (When was the last time someone told you that buying used furniture is equivalent to robbing a furniture store?)

But I guess we all know which way the industry is going despite what people think. Or... maybe not. Only a few days ago, Eurogamer reported that Sony has taken a stance opposite that of Microsoft, and that the next PlayStation console will not be blocking used games. I can only wonder if this means the PlayStation 4 will sell better than Microsoft's next console. If consumers want to make a statement with their purchases, it likely will. On the other hand, consumers are pretty dumb.

Humble Bundle Strikes Again

As many of us already know, the sixth incarnation of the Humble Indie Bundle is on sale right now, and will be available for another six days. I didn't exactly come here to plug it — I'm not on their payroll — but it's hard not to say a few nice things about a pack of games that you can buy for almost nothing. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, read this so I don't have to explain.) It's been more than two years since the very first Humble Bundle, and they've gotten a whole lot of good press since then, so there's no need for me to rave about how awesome it is. But, for the record, it's pretty neat.

Of course, despite the pay-what-you-want model, not everyone loves Humble Bundle. Some game developers have expressed doubts that being part of a Humble Bundle sale is really a profitable and worthwhile venture. (Customers can choose where their money goes, and the recommended "default split" for the current bundle is 65% to developers, 20% to charity, and 15% to Humble Bundle, Inc., but the average amount, per game sold, that a developer gets is probably rather low, since so many consumers will pay as little as possible instead of paying what they honestly believe the games are worth.)

Furthermore, a lot of people have some bad things to say about indie games in general. While many have taken the extreme view that so-called "indie" developers are the last hope for originality in a stagnating video game market saturated with too many nearly identical and equally overpriced first-person shooters, others go to the opposite extreme; they look at indie games and see cheaply made, outdated, pretentious hipster trash. In particular, any mention of "retro graphics" is sure to draw a lot of mockery and criticism, though the indie developers keep using this term in marketing their games, probably for the sake of appealing to older players and anyone else who treats "retro" as a codeword for cool.

If you like indie games and you don't have a job, the Humble Bundle is perfect for you. On the other hand, if you're not fond of indie games and other "retro" stuff, you should probably pass on this deal. The games in a Humble Bundle sale generally aren't the big-budget, high-definition, mainstream type. There's no such thing as a Humble Call of Duty Bundle as of yet, so good luck naming your own price for that.

I should also mention that "pay what you want" is slightly misleading... but only slightly. Technically, it's true, but the Humble Bundle guys aren't idiots; they do employ a few tricks to encourage customers to spend more than the bare minimum. (Otherwise, they'd probably never make any money, except from the generous and wealthy few who donate thousands of dollars.) While you can pay as little as one cent for the five core games that make up the bundle, you won't really be getting the whole bundle. There are always a few extra games, some added later in the sale, reserved for those who spend more than the average amount. (You'll also have to spend at least a dollar if you want keys to activate the games on Steam.) Since a lot of people choose to exceed the average contribution by one cent, so they can get all of the games, that average typically creeps upward slowly throughout the sale.

With the four games that were just added yesterday, Humble Indie Bundle 6 is now up to ten games: Rochard, Shatter, Space Pirates and Zombies, Torchlight, and Vessel can be stolen for a penny, but you'll have to beat the average (just above $6.00 now) to get Dustforce, Bit.Trip Runner, Gratuitous Space Battles, Jamestown, and Wizorb as well. Five games for a penny is great, but ten games for six bucks and change is pretty good too.

It's worth noting, however, that Humble Bundles often include a few repeats, and this one is no exception. Specifically, Bit.Trip Runner, Gratuitous Space Battles, and Jamestown were included in Humble Indie Bundle 4, and Humble Indie Bundle 4 included (as a bonus) the first five games from Humble Indie Bundle 3. Sometimes, if you already own a previous bundle, you might find that paying above the average for the next one isn't as great of a deal as you might have hoped. Since activating a bundle's Steam key won't give you giftable copies of any games you already own, there's no benefit to buying a game twice. You'll just have to decide whether the other games in the pack are worth your hard-earned pocket change.

When the fifth Humble Indie Bundle came out last spring, I already owned Psychonauts, and none of the other games seemed appealing at the time, so I passed. In retrospect, I'm starting to regret this decision, since I've heard such good things about Bastion and some of the other games. I can only hope they'll be repeated in future sales. This time, I'm facing a similar dilemma: I already own Torchlight — arguably the most important game on the list, considering the highly anticipated release of Torchlight II last week — and I also bought Humble Indie Bundle 4 last winter — easily the best video game purchase I've made in recent memory. So I already own four of the games in Humble Indie Bundle 6, but six bucks for the remaining six games is still a sweet deal.

To put things in the proper perspective, Dustforce alone is currently $9.99 on Steam.

All in all, you can't really go wrong with the Humble Indie Bundle, since any one game is typically worth more than what you'll pay for the whole pack. And if you're content with only getting the five base games, you could always be a cheapskate and pay only a cent. Of course, if you do this, Humble Bundle, Inc. probably suffers a net loss due to bandwidth and transaction fees. Honestly, you might as well pirate the games, and I guess that's why so many people do so despite the fact that the games are practically free. Or maybe they just can't be bothered to put in their credit card information. Or maybe they don't have credit cards. Or maybe they pirate things out of principle because they're super bad-ass renegades who break all the rules because shut up.

The games in the Humble Bundle aren't just cheap. They're also free of digital rights management, playable on every operating system that matters, and available in torrent form in addition to a direct download. In other words, they've made an effort to appease even the pickiest of players. They've eliminated every good reason to pirate their games, but it still hasn't eliminated piracy.

I'm getting a bit off-topic now, but this is something to remember next time someone tries to justify piracy by citing high prices, intrusive DRM, inconvenience, or a general desire to deliver a slap in the face to big, evil corporations like Electronic Arts. The fact is that people turn to piracy no matter how low the price of the game, or how reasonable the publisher's behavior, just to avoid paying at all. It's not my place to judge those who engage in software piracy — the extent to which it actually harms the game industry is still up for debate — but pirates should just accept that what they're doing is a selfish act and nothing more. They should be able to make their decision and live with it, without trying to rationalize it after the fact, but they still come up with all kinds of excuses and pass the blame around. Simply put, they're in denial.

For those of us who don't mind sending a few dollars to the hard-working people who make our favorite pastime possible, the Humble Bundle is a great opportunity to grab a few interesting games without breaking the bank.

What Makes Video Games Fun?

A lot of "hardcore gamers" (regardless of whether they identify themselves as such) will tell you that the video game industry is in sad shape. It's not just because of the past decade's unfortunate shift toward increasingly more intrusive digital rights management, or the recent trend of releasing "extra" downloadable content on day one to encourage thoughtless and irresponsible pre-orders, or the deliberate efforts to use both DRM and DLC to destroy the used game market. Rather, it's because they think that too many of the games being released today are crap.

And they're not just talking about shovelware that nobody buys. This is popular crap. So what's up with all the hate? Well, it should be no surprise that the games which tend to attract the most violently negative attention are always the popular ones. After all, if you want to complain about a genre, a feature, a console, or a developer, you pick a popular game as an example, and then you claim that the chosen game means the downfall of gaming as we know it. This has been happening for a long time. But in the past few years, I've been reluctant to shrug it off as the usual fanboyism, hipsterism, and attention-seeking antics of a vocal minority. It's more likely indicative of something else.

As I see it, this backlash is due to recent changes in the industry which aren't entirely imaginary. The industry is, in fact, changing, and not just in response to the emergence of nearly ubiquitous high-speed internet service, which facilitates digital distribution and piracy alike. Video games have changed also because of their growing audience. Thanks to cell phones, social networking sites, and a few other things which should never have games on them, games have crossed farther into the mainstream than ever before. Meanwhile, those who played video games back when it was an obscure hobby reserved only for children and computer geeks have grown up, and some of them are still playing. It's only understandable that some of these old-schoolers would be a bit shocked by the current state of things.

So, what is the current state of things?

It's complicated, and there are a lot of little topics I'd like to bring up — e.g., how girls went from "eww, you play video games, you're such a nerd" to "hey, I can be a gamer too" and "tee hee, I'm such a nerd" — but most of these things are too far off-topic and will have to wait for some other week. Simply put, if I can allow myself to get to the point, casual games and social networking have taken over. It's not hard to see that this is an expected (and perhaps necessary) consequence of video games getting a slice of that mainstream pie.

Games directed at casual players get a lot of hate, particularly from the more "hardcore" gamers, many of whom grew up when video games were considerably less forgiving than the ones made today. For these players, the whole point of a game is to provide a challenge. Winning should be a struggle; that's what makes it so satisfying. This is why they fail to understand the casual audience. More importantly, this is why they're angered not only by strictly casual games but also by the perceived "casualization" of modern games as a whole.

Are the majority of today's video games a lot easier than the ones of my childhood? You bet. But is this really a terrible thing? Not necessarily. Difficult games still exist, and we should keep in mind that a lot of older games were only hard because of their lack of a save feature. (Wouldn't a lot of modern games be damn near impossible to beat if saving weren't an option?) Other old games were stupidly hard because of poor design, and still others were intentionally made difficult because they were short and would have been beaten too quickly if they weren't frustratingly hard to finish. (Truly master Super Mario Bros. and you can beat it in less than five minutes; without using warp zones, it can still be done in less than half an hour.) Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, playtime can be extended in ways that don't involve dying repeatedly, and games can be entertaining for reasons other than sheer difficulty.

So now we get to ask an interesting question. What actually makes video games fun? Some say it's the challenge, while others will say it's the story/characters/immersion (for single-player games) or the social experience (for multiplayer games). Still others, I suspect, would say they just like to blow things up. In reality, for most people, it's a combination of all of the above.

How much, in particular, should difficulty matter? From the developer's point of view, a game should be difficult enough to entertain the experienced players — to let them know that winning takes effort so that winning feels good — but easy enough to avoid alienating the casual players who might not even bother to finish a game if it frustrates them at all. Personally, I think most developers have done a pretty good job of accomplishing this. Say what you will about the harm caused by pandering to the casual audience, but most games worth playing have multiple difficulty levels, the easiest of which is usually tame enough for "casuals" and the hardest of which is usually a challenge for anyone who never played the game before. Nobody should be disappointed unless a developer makes a serious miscalculation.

This is why I was surprised to see such a negative reaction to this article on Kotaku a little more than a week ago, in which Luke Plunkett gives a fairly reasonable rebuttal to Assassin's Creed III lead designer Alex Hutchinson's (rather preposterous) claim that "easy mode often ruins games." (It's kind of funny because Assassin's Creed, a game with only one difficulty, isn't that hard, and the same is true of all the sequels I've played.) I'm not a big fan of Kotaku, nor am I a fan of Luke Plunkett, but I have to agree with him here. At least, I agree with his headline. A game can't be ruined by a difficulty setting.

I'm willing to say that the "easy mode" of a game can often be the worst version of that game, as Hutchinson claims, but the inclusion of an easy mode surely doesn't spoil the whole game unless it's the only mode available. Don't like easy mode? Play on hard. If the harder settings are still too easy, or if they do nothing but make the game more tedious, you've picked a bad game. If the harder settings are locked until the easier ones are completed, you better hope the easier settings are hard enough to keep you entertained for a single playthrough; otherwise, you've picked a bad game. Bad game design happens, but if you're blaming it solely on the inclusion of an "easy" mode, you're probably overlooking a deeper problem.

Still, I won't say I agree with Plunkett completely, since he has entirely different reasons for disagreeing with Hutchinson's argument. Specifically, he makes it abundantly clear that he doesn't care about difficulty at all, and that he plays story-driven games only for the story. He probably wouldn't mind if a game like Assassin's Creed III consisted of no interaction besides "press X to continue." And if you're like this, you probably should ask yourself why you're playing games at all, rather than watching movies or reading books. If, on the other hand, you can appreciate the unique things that games have to offer, instead of just complaining that everything is too hard, then your idea of "fun" is just as valid as that of the hardcore gamer dude who plays everything on the hardest setting and skips all the cutscenes.

So where do I stand?

Let's just say I was more than a little annoyed by the fact that it's literally impossible to lose in the 2008 version of Prince of Persia. I won't go so far as to say that the protagonist of a game needs to be able to die, and "losing" is hardly a setback in any game with a save option (assuming you use it often enough), but being automatically revived after every fall in PoP 2008 seemed like a step down from the rewind system in The Sands of Time, which actually required some minimal skill and had limits. If there's no consequence for falling off a cliff, the sense of danger and suspense is gone and the game becomes only tedious where it might otherwise have been exciting.

On the other hand, you know I'm a sucker for story-driven games, and the need for a genuine challenge can be subverted by decision-making and role-playing elements. Since Choose Your Own Adventure books were terrible and there's no equivalent in the movie world, I think it's pretty safe to say that the existing technology used for video games is the ideal medium for straight-up interactive fiction. I see no reason not to take advantage of this. The problem is that what might be described most accurately as interactive fiction, and not as a traditional video game, will nevertheless remain stuck under the category of video games. This tends to generate all the wrong expectations. Story-driven titles are often criticized for having too much "story" and not enough "game" (even if the developer's primary objective, admittedly, was to tell a story).

Regardless of how far a developer decides to take the storytelling aspect of a product, and regardless of what you call it, the fact is that difficulty (and, indeed, gameplay itself) often matters less when story matters more, and if you're looking for a serious challenge, you should probably stay away from plot-driven games, even ones like Assassin's Creed. They make it difficult enough that any given mission might take two or three attempts, but they know they're not serving the hardcore crowd exclusively. Sometimes, though, I think the hardcore crowd still hasn't caught on.

What Ever Happened to Cheat Codes?

If you've been playing video games for more than a few years, you almost surely remember a time when cheating was a standard feature a lot of games. I'm not referring, of course, to the kind of cheating that gets you permanently banned from your favorite server — the kind that requires exploitation of programming bugs or "hacking" of the software — but rather to the use of built-in cheat codes that developers would include in their games to spice things up and to assist the less gifted among us.

You might even know a few of them after all these years. If you ever played Doom, then IDDQD and IDKFA should be burned permanently into your brain. While invulnerability and instant access to the game's entire arsenal of weapons have the potential to suck all of the fun out of any demon-slaying adventure, the developers trusted us to use these codes responsibly, whether that meant using them only in dire circumstances, only after completing the game without them, or never at all. Some players, I'm sure, preferred instead to use them all the time, but that was okay as long as they had fun doing it.

It wasn't very long ago that the inclusion of cheat codes was the norm, but at some point, they gradually disappeared. Although I have nothing but anecdotal evidence to back it up, it seems to me that cheat codes faded out of common existence around the same time that "achievements" became ubiquitous and downloadable content (DLC) became the industry's choice method of squeezing more money out of their customers. There isn't necessarily a causal relationship here, but the disappearance of built-in cheats does seem to coincide with a more general transformation in the way games are made and marketed.

There were cheat codes in the 2005 horror/shooter game F.E.A.R. — one of my favorite games of the past ten years, although I don't like to admit it, since the plot went from mediocre to insufferably bad after the first installment. The same cheats worked in both expansion packs, Extraction Point and Perseus Mandate, released in 2006 and 2007, respectively. But the first true sequel, the 2009 game F.E.A.R. 2: Project Origin, was devoid of cheat codes. Want to be invincible? Too bad.

Instead of cheats, the game had a few dozen achievements to unlock (which, like most achievements, don't really give you anything except a little "congratulations" for performing various in-game tasks which usually aren't very challenging). This, along with the inexplicable removal of several useful features (like dedicated multiplayer servers and the ability to lean around corners) as well as the implementation of digital rights management (which is arguably far more intrusive than a simple product key and disc check), makes the transition from F.E.A.R. to F.E.A.R. 2 somewhat representative, in my eyes, of how video games have changed as a whole.

While achievements are by no means a logical replacement for cheat codes, they have filled the spaces formerly occupied by cheats on websites like GameFAQs. Look up any recent game and go to the "cheats" tab, and you'll likely see a list of trophies, achievements, or other unlockables instead. The page will likely tell you how to unlock each one, but this is information which can usually be accessed in-game. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to list achievements on a cheat site, but achievements must have seemed like a logical replacement for the cheat codes that disappeared around the time that these non-functional "unlockables" emerged.

Of course, cheat codes and unlockables are not mutually exclusive features; many games have had both, and some games (like the Nintendo 64 shooters GoldenEye 007 and Perfect Dark) combined the two concepts by including cheats that had to be earned, not simply looked up and punched in. However, the trend in modern games is to forgo cheats entirely in favor of unlockables, which are more often achievements than anything useful. If a game does have achievements, cheats are usually absent, and vice versa.

I won't say this is because cheating makes the achievements too easy to get — after all, if the developers want to preserve some kind of competitiveness or genuine challenge in achievement hunting, they can just program their games to lock achievements if cheats are activated, as is done in Half-Life 2 — but developers who put achievements in their games likely care a bit too much about controlling the player's experience. They care about "challenging" and "rewarding" the player (which is unfortunate because the gameplay is rarely challenging and victory is rarely rewarding). They don't care nearly enough about letting the player have fun in his or her own way.

But I can't lay all the blame on developers. They're not alone in their belief that cheats can ruin a game, even though the player is free to decide not to use them. A lot of self-proclaimed "hardcore gamers" share this sentiment. I do not.

The fact is that cheats aren't always about gaining an advantage or winning a game with minimal effort. When cheat codes were commonplace, it wasn't unusual for developers to include cheats that had little or no effect on a game's difficulty. These cheats existed either for laughs (see "Paintball Mode" in GoldenEye 007 and Perfect Dark) or to alter the rules of the game in fun ways that didn't necessarily benefit the player (like the reduced gravity cheat in Vigilante 8), not because we needed them to win. Even when they did have an obvious effect on difficulty, cheats in single-player games were used primarily for screwing around rather than getting to the end of the game as quickly as possible. For players with an ounce of restraint and self-control, cheats add replay value rather than subtract it.

Unfortunately, cheats are unlikely to make a big comeback. Today's developers don't seem to have any interest in hiding secrets in their games, and if they think of anything that adds extra value to their product, they'll most often try to sell it to you on the side. Usually, this means offering "additional" features (such as levels, items, and playable characters) as DLC with a price tag, even when these things are already available at the time of the game's launch and could have been included in the game itself. Occasionally, however, a developer actually has the balls to try to charge you for cheats, whether they're sold as DLC (such as the "Invincible Pack" for Saints Row: The Third) or as unique codes that unlock features already included in the game's files (as in Clive Barker's Jericho and some other games published by Codemasters).

From the back cover of the Clive Barker's Jericho manual. I have no idea if the hotline still works (nor do I want to try it), but it seems that the web page doesn't even exist anymore. The small print at the bottom of the page [not pictured] clarifies that codes obtained via the hotline would cost only what they charged for the call, but that getting codes online would require a "small" payment by credit card or PayPal.

This is pretty horrifying, but the success of the microtransaction business model applied to video games — most prominently to "free-to-play" massively multiplayer online games — has shown that a staggering number of people are essentially willing to pay to win. Since it works for multiplayer, it's not so crazy to think people might be willing to pay extra to gain an advantage in a single-player game as well.

I still think selling cheats is insanely dumb, but people are still going to buy them, just like they'll blindly pay for everything else the publishers take out of the finished product at the last minute and set aside as "DLC" for the purpose of grabbing more cash. (Imagine buying a movie ticket only to find out that the last ten minutes of the film will cost you an extra $3.95. Now imagine all of the people who don't boycott that movie. My point is that day-one DLC is evil and consumers are stupid.)

Since the current attitude of big video game publishers is that anything non-essential should be sold off as "extra" content, cheats might regain some real popularity in the form of DLC, but it seems unlikely. Cheat codes clearly went out of style for unrelated reasons, perhaps for the same reasons that we haven't already seen every major developer jumping at the chance to make some extra money by selling invincibility and extra ammo. Perhaps the most obvious problem with cheat codes is that most video games have gotten so easy that developers think we don't need cheats at all. Again, however, I should point out that it's not about need; it's about fun.

Personally, I'd like it if things would go back to the way they were before. Oh, sure, everyone feels that way, especially the nostalgic, aging video game enthusiasts such as myself, but I have no desire to hold the industry back. I realize that most of the changes made by the industry in recent years were, successfully or not, made for the sake of progress. But cheat codes only have the potential to make a game better — never worse — and the fact that they've almost completely been taken away can only be seen as a step backward.

How To: Steam Offline Mode

Digital distribution and digital rights management are touchy subjects among consumers of video games. The idea that we don't really "own" the software that we buy has been the source of much debate. Many refuse to buy games protected by DRM of any kind, while many more try to avoid downloadable games entirely. Others, meanwhile, have accepted that the way things are going now is the way of the future. And it's okay, mostly. Digital distribution is just too darn convenient and most DRM is only a minor annoyance. (I have to log in? Okay. Wow, that was easy.) Steam, in particular, is often considered an example of digital distribution done right (if there is such a thing), but it still gets a lot of harsh criticism — sometimes for good reasons, and other times because it's cool to hate popular things.

Steam obviously has its perks; the interface is well designed, the features are useful, and the sales aren't bad. The major drawback, though, is that you typically need to be running Steam in order to play a game. (Yes, some games can be launched manually outside of Steam, but others cannot.) Since the Steam client is meant to be used online, it might appear at first glance that you also need to be online in order to play your Steam games. Fortunately, Steam has an "offline mode" to get around that. The problem is that misconceptions about offline mode are widespread and a lot of people don't seem to understand how it works. So let's try it out and see what happens.

Contents
Preliminary Stuff
Enabling Offline Mode
Making Sure Your Games Are Ready to Play
Switching to Offline Mode While Online
Switching to Online Mode While Offline
Exiting Steam Properly
Launching Steam With No Internet Connection
Lost Connection
The Verdict

Note: This post was last updated in November 2013. Screenshots were taken in July 2012 and might be outdated.

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Preliminary Stuff

Before we start, please note that Steam has its own Offline Mode How-To, which warns that offline mode might stop working if the Steam client is closed improperly (e.g., by shutting down the computer without exiting the program) or if the Steam client is outdated and fails to update (e.g., due to incorrect firewall settings). The rest of Steam's support page consists of step-by-step instructions on how to "configure" offline mode.

In my opinion, however, these instructions are somewhat misleading. The first step, for example, is to check the "Remember my password" box on the log-in window. As far as I can tell, this step is merely a recommendation and is by no means necessary. If you prefer not to let Steam remember your password at the log-in screen, go ahead and leave this box unchecked as shown below.

For the record, I didn't allow Steam to remember my password while I was testing offline mode for the purpose of writing this post, and everything still worked. (Do note that, while Steam does save account credentials to the computer as a necessary step in configuring offline mode, this is entirely separate from the "Remember my password" feature, which is only meant to save you the trouble of typing your password every time you use Steam online.)

Also somewhat misleading is the way the official guide ends with instructions to restart Steam in offline mode while you're online and signed in. This might be the reason for the widespread misconception that offline mode can only be used if you're already online. Of course, this is not the case. Once configured, Steam will be able to start in offline mode when there's no internet connection without the need to log in immediately beforehand.

Enabling Offline Mode

Before attempting to use offline mode, you should make sure you haven't explicitly disabled it. You probably haven't — because that would be stupid — but if you have, you'll obviously need to go online to access your account so that you can fix the problem. (If you disabled offline mode and now you have no internet access, you're out of luck. Sorry.)

Here's how it works: The use of offline mode requires that Steam be permitted to save account credentials on your computer. If you disallow this and then try to start Steam without any internet connection, the following error message will appear:

To avoid this, we need to make sure that Steam is allowed to save your account credentials. Go online, start up the program and log in, then click on "Steam" in the upper-left corner of the window, and then click on "Settings."

Go to the "Account" tab, and near the bottom of the window, you'll see a check box labeled "Don't save account credentials on this computer."

Having this box checked prevents offline mode from working, so you need to make sure it's unchecked. You probably don't need to worry too much about this feature, since it seems to be unchecked by default, but it's important to know where these options can be found. (Note once again that saving account credentials for offline mode by leaving this box unchecked is not the same as telling Steam to remember your password at the log-in window.)

Making Sure Your Games Are Ready To Play

Obviously, enabling offline mode won't help us if we don't allow our games to finish downloading or updating before we attempt to launch them. Download progress is shown in your Library tab if you're using the "Detail View" or "List View" options (shown below).

There's a total progress bar on the bottom of the Steam window as well.

Clicking the words above that progress bar will show more details for all of your downloads. Before proceeding, you should make sure that all downloads are complete. Otherwise, when you attempt to play a game in offline mode, you might run into this:

At that point, you would have to go back online to finish the installation.

Switching To Offline Mode While Online

The easiest way to verify that offline mode is enabled — and, in fact, the most foolproof way to use the feature — is to switch to it manually while you're online. Apparently, doing this at least once is also a necessary step in configuring your account for offline play.

Contrary to popular myth, however, this is not the only way to use offline mode. Once everything is set up, you should be able to go straight into offline mode upon launching Steam if your internet connection is down, but I'll get into that later.

To restart in offline mode manually, click "Steam" at the top of the window and then click "Go Offline..."

Then click "Restart in Offline Mode" when the option appears.

Note that this requires account credentials to be saved locally, so you'll have to enable offline mode by giving Steam this permission. If you don't, you'll receive the error message below.

Fortunately, it's a helpful error message; you can just click "Enable Saving Account Credentials" and it will change the setting for you.

Switching to offline mode while online isn't just foolproof. It's arguably more useful, as well, mostly because Steam will remember your preference. If you switch to offline mode manually and then close Steam, you'll be given the option to start in offline mode again next time you launch the application, regardless of whether an internet connection is present.

Under any other circumstances, Steam only offers to start in offline mode if it can't connect to Steam servers. If you prefer offline mode (e.g., because you don't want Steam to track how many hours you play), and you don't want to unplug your computer from the internet completely, then switching manually to offline mode is the way to go.

Switching To Online Mode While Offline

If we want to get out of offline mode, we can click "Steam" and then "Go Online..."

Then click "Restart and Go Online" when the option appears.

Once Steam restarts, you should be able to log in normally.

Exiting Steam Properly

After you've checked your settings and downloaded your games — and, in fact, every time you finish using Steam online — you should fully exit the program before shutting down your computer. Failing to do so might cause problems with offline mode.

Note: Valve claimed to have fixed this issue in an August 2012 update. However, as of November 2013, the official Offline Mode How-To still warns that Steam should be closed manually. Failing to follow this step might still cause issues, so I'm leaving this section intact.

To properly close the Steam client, click on "Steam" in the upper-left corner of the window, and then click on "Exit." It's that easy.

Do not simply press the little "X" in the upper-right corner of the window. This only closes the window, while the program itself continues to run in the background.

I always close Steam before shutting my computer down, but I recently tried doing it the wrong way, just to see what would happen. After disabling my internet connection and launching Steam, I tried to get into offline mode, and instead I got these two nonsensical error messages:

Fortunately, this is very easily avoided unless your computer is the victim of a power outage. If you're receiving the error messages above, you should close Steam properly next time you're done using it.

Launching Steam With No Internet Connection

Offline mode is enabled, your games are downloaded, you've switched to offline mode at least once, and you've shut down the Steam client. Now, if no internet connection is available next time you try to launch the program, you should be given the option of using offline mode.

When the "Connection Error" dialog box appears, just click "Start in Offline Mode" and Steam will open normally, except that online features like the store and the friends list will (obviously) not work.

Once you're in offline mode, you should be able to run any of your games, provided these games are fully downloaded, installed and updated. (For this example, I've used Portal, which is already installed and ready to play.)

Multiplayer games will run too, but good luck finding any servers.

Lost Connection

So what happens if you suddenly lose your internet connection while you're playing? Do you need to enable offline mode in order to prepare for this? Well, not really. Losing your internet connection will not interrupt a single-player game even if offline mode isn't being used. If your connection is okay when you log in, then it doesn't really matter what happens after that.

To demonstrate, I started up Portal while using Steam online, and then disabled my wireless connection. Note the words "No Connection" on the bottom of the Steam window. Steam's online features stopped working but I didn't get kicked out of the game.

There is, therefore, no need to switch to offline mode just because you expect connection interruptions.

The Verdict

So how well does offline mode work? It's not perfect — there are some bugs — but, as far as I can tell at this point, it performs well enough when used correctly.

I've heard plenty of stories of offline mode failing to work for various reasons, most of which are probably related to a firewall-induced failure to update the Steam client, or some other kind of weird scenario which I've been unable to test here.

Specifically, though, I've been told that the locally saved account credentials can expire — in other words, if you haven't logged into Steam in a long time, offline mode might not work anymore — but I won't be able to test for that unless I go some undetermined amount of time without playing any of my multiplayer Steam games, and I don't really feel like doing that. Since most people who play video games have constant internet connections, or at least the ability to log into Steam occasionally, the expiration of saved account credentials should not be a major problem.

I hope this helps.