#1ReasonWhy Gamers Should Care About This Trend

I tried really hard not to write this post.  I've touched on gender in two posts before, but this subject is so big, and so delicate, that I was legitimately worried to write it.  But the #1ReasonWhy trend on Twitter today has convinced me that I need to approach this topic.  This post is going to be long.  It might be uncomfortable.  And, while I have tried to keep the language here tame and analytical, it might be difficult for some people to read -- and some of the content I link might contain triggers.

I don't develop games.  In gaming, I am strictly a consumer.  I have, however, been playing console games since 1991 and online games since 1997.  Gaming, in its many forms, is a hobby of mine and an important element in my social life.  I'm also a fan of pencil-and-paper roleplaying games and tech culture in general, two areas that share a large portion of their populations with the "gamer" culture.

In case you haven't seen the Internet for the past 24 hours, #1ReasonWhy is a massive trend in social media today discussing why women are (drastically) underrepresented in the game design industry.  It started with one simple question, and has resulted in a torrent of tweets about sexism in the industry, a movement to create mentoring relationships, and many blog posts on the subject.  The movement has thrown a light on some truly disturbing trends (and also a series of heartwarming stories).

However, people outside the gaming industry -- and particularly men -- may be struggling to see the relevance of this trend.  As a male gamer, I have found the #1ReasonWhy trend very striking, and I'm writing this post to explain why other male gamers should care about it.

The reason is this:  Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II, The Sith Lords.

No, really.  I'm serious.

Take This DRM. It's Dangerous to Distribute Games Alone.

(I am back after a couple of weeks of intense thesis immersion.  So let's talk about The Legend of Zelda.)

Let's be honest: If you never wanted to erase Navi, link's fairy companion in The Ocarina of Time, then you never played The Ocarina of Time.  If I had to make a list of the top modifications I wanted to otherwise great games, deleting Navi would top the list, and it wouldn't even be close.  If I had the time, energy, and technical skill, I would go back and erase Navi from the game myself, just to be able to go back and play the game without her.

Entrepreneur, gamer, and candidate for Dad of the Year Mike Hoye recently modded his own copy of The Wind Waker, Link's first adventure on the GameCube in the Legend of Zelda series.  He didn't remove the fairy companion; to the best of my knowledge (I don't own a GameCube), there is no fairy companion in The Wind Waker.  Instead, he painstakingly changed the dialogue to change protagonist Link's gender from male to female.

Hoye enjoys playing video games with his daughter, but was frustrated by the lack of positive female role models in games.  So he did the sensible thing, and built one.  He didn't change the plot or the function of the game, just a few words here and there to make the game more accessible to his daughter.  He also made his modifications available to the public for other concerned parents.

But this isn't a post about gender in video games.  Everyone knows that video games have done a terrible job of handling gender in any sensible way, with very few and limited exceptions.  No, I want to talk about copyright.  Mike Hoye's labor of love is demonstrative of why our copyright system isn't just broken; it's insanely broken.

Why?  Hoye's brilliant Zelda hack is probably illegal.