The Ouya, a console that aimed to disrupt the gaming market with its unique approach, is now celebrating its 10-year anniversary on June 25, 2023. In this article, we will delve into its legacy as a console that was ahead of its time in some aspects, but ultimately fell short in achieving its grand aspirations.
When the Ouya was released a decade ago, it stood out as an independently developed console that received significant funding through a massive Kickstarter campaign. While there were doubts and concerns surrounding its success, there was also enthusiasm for the potential contributions of an independent-focused console and development community.
Priced at $99, the Ouya was a micro-console built on Android architecture. Its main selling points were its affordability and the fact that every console shipped was also a development kit, allowing individuals with technical expertise to create games for the platform. The console promised accessible developer tools, a library of exclusive indie games, and bridging the gap between mobile and console gaming.
Even before its release, academic Ian Bogost argued that the appeal of the Ouya was not solely in the physical console itself, but in the hypothetical disruption it represented. The pleasure of participating in this hypothetical disruption was seen as sufficient. True to Bogost’s words, the reception of the Ouya upon its release was lukewarm. The console struggled, was eventually acquired by Razer, and faded away slowly. Much of the discussion surrounding the Ouya revolves around its failure, going from one of the most successful Kickstarter campaigns to being overshadowed by subsequent projects. In a way, Bogost was right—the purpose of the Ouya had already been fulfilled even before it hit store shelves.
Looking back at the original Kickstarter video, one can see the grand vision and promises of the Ouya. It aimed to disrupt the industry, bring mobile games to the big screen, and empower small developers to compete with the major players. The future seemed to be encapsulated in this small console. The packaging itself contained inserts that proclaimed slogans like “and so begins the revolution” and “thank you for believing.” However, the true strength of the Ouya lay in its smallness.
The creators of the Ouya may not have achieved their ambitious vision of disruption, but they did succeed in building an affordable, open-source platform that embraced unconventional game creations. In a whimsical and entertaining piece for the now-defunct Killscreen, Zack Kotzer argued that the Ouya was an excellent source of games to play while under the influence. Rain simulators, surreal voyages through empty seas, and absurd valet parking simulations were among the unique experiences available. These games didn’t have to be everything to everyone; they were special because they offered something different.
Even the Ouya’s most notable success, the multiplayer fighter game Towerfall, epitomized this spirit of smallness. One of the main criticisms upon the game’s release was the lack of online multiplayer, but this criticism missed the mark. Towerfall was designed for close proximity play, where players could shout at the television and fill a room with laughter. While an online multiplayer option could capture some of this essence, it also introduced a sense of distance. Towerfall’s charm lay in the frenzied obsession it created over a weekend or during occasional matches over the years. Unlike many major multiplayer games today, Towerfall didn’t try to dominate players’ lives—it found strength in its small-scale appeal, much like the Ouya itself.
While the Ouya allowed for the inclusion of small-scale games on its platform and even provided development tutorials, its ambition reached beyond this scope. Shortly after the console’s launch, the Ouya team initiated a $1 million funding campaign that matched Kickstarter contributions dollar-for-dollar in exchange for a six-month timed-exclusivity contract. This policy created controversy, as some developers were accused of artificially boosting their Kickstarter campaigns to gain access to the promised funds. The policy eventually underwent changes based on feedback from developers. It highlighted the ambitious nature of the Ouya, aiming for indie hits like Super Meat Boy and Towerfall. Unfortunately, the smaller games that populated the corners of the Ouya’s shop received less institutional support. Kotzer warned of the dangers of favoring antiquity over anarchy—a warning that has proven prophetic.
Another drawback of the Ouya was its closed ecosystem. When it was announced that the online ecosystem would be shut down, preservationists rushed to save the games that would be left behind due to the lack of official support. The Ouya fared slightly better in this regard because it was built on the Android architecture, which is not a niche or locked environment like some other platforms. However, there were still losses and abandonments resulting from its demise.
Interestingly, it is the personal computer that has taken over the role the Ouya attempted to claim. Portable PCs such as the Steam Deck and the ROG Ally are relatively easy to develop for, and more people than ever have access to a laptop or PC for work or school. The website and desktop client Itch.io, which launched around the same time as the Ouya, has become the preferred platform for independent game developers to publish their games, participate in game jams, or simply explore unique and unconventional experiences—whether sober or not. The cultural forces that influenced the Ouya and those it helped shape are still present today.
However, there are some notable differences. Personal computers, even budget ones, can be significantly more expensive than the Ouya ever was. Currently, one can purchase an Ouya on eBay for prices ranging from $50 to $200. Additionally, nearly all personal computers, with a few exceptions, come from large hardware companies. The Ouya received institutional support but aimed to be an independent console. It’s worth noting that the Steam Deck is the latest successful attempt by Valve to enter the hardware market, supported by their substantial financial resources. The exact vision of a truly independent game console seems farther away than ever before, and even successors like the Playdate target a more niche audience compared to the Ouya’s intended reach.
The video game industry is often unsustainable, facing issues such as environmental impact, working conditions, and the scale of big-budget projects. The Ouya’s central failure can be attributed to its ambitious scale and aspirations. However, its true success lies in creating a model for a different kind of gaming ecosystem. The Ouya is not the only small console with dreams that have faded into obscurity, but like those consoles, it represents alternate histories and potential futures. It is now possible to hack the Ouya to connect it to a community-run server and download and play games. Despite its tumultuous history, the Ouya remains small, independent, and alive—a space in which more people should be able to participate.
Denial of responsibility! TechCodex is an automatic aggregator of the all world’s media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
Eugen Boglaru is an AI aficionado covering the fascinating and rapidly advancing field of Artificial Intelligence. From machine learning breakthroughs to ethical considerations, Eugen provides readers with a deep dive into the world of AI, demystifying complex concepts and exploring the transformative impact of intelligent technologies.
