There I was rooting around teh interwebs the other day when I stumbled upon IGN's "Best RPGs of 2023" list and had a minor aneurysm. No fault of the writer (she wrote a coherent, competent piece, was working with what was on hand and, anyway, my eye has almost stopped twitching); but it occurred to me that the list itself was kinda pointless seeing as how only one game on it (Baldur's Gate 3) was an actual, honest to goodness, RPG... It was like having a "best cabbages" list where nine out of ten positions were held by carrots.

Although the "RPG" label gets slapped onto games fairly liberally nowadays, the term does have an actual definition. Going by the textbook (or, in my case, paraphrasing WikiPedia), to qualify as an RPG you have to 1) allow the player to assume the role of a fictional character (which works best if they get to create it); 2) let them make decisions that reflect said character's, um, character (you know: their values, beliefs, moral compass or what-have-you); 3) determine the success of those decisions via in-game rules or mechanics (basically rolls against the character's abilities); and 4) allow the player to control the advancement of the character as the narrative progresses.

Every game on IGN's list (and, indeed, the market at large) fulfills some of those criteria, but (in the immortal words of Tyler Durden) "sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken." It's not enough to have some characteristics of a genre to qualify for its pedigree. And while the reason for this sad state of affairs is readily apparent (marketing and sales), it doesn't change the fact that the RPG genre is, once again, on a downturn.

I'm not after a comprehensive history lesson here, but – broadly – RPG evolution has been a matter of tehnical capacity and budgets catching up to the all-encompassing freedom offered by tabletop gaming. In a pen-and-paper system, with a DM running the show, the only real limitiation of what you could do was time. PNP ran on imagination, after all, and imagination remains the Greatest Rendering System of All Time. Limitless, personalized, instantaneous and with zero overhead, it's a hard gimmick to beat and impossible to imitate, so when studios took a first whack at RPGs, they had to start with the basics: statistics and calculations.

To wit: think back to, let's say, 1991 and the ubiquitous dungeon crawlers of the time like Eye of the Beholder. It covered basic character creation (you got to pick a portrait, do six random rolls, select a class and take a stab at a name); characters did gain experience and leveled up (though you couldn't determine how); and what few abilities you could use (lock picking, combat and magic, if memory serves) did function on D&D maths.

So while, at first glance, EotB may have seemed like an RPG (I mean: how could it not be, what with AD&D right there on the box?), the game offered no means to make decisions (which is kinda a staple of the genre) and was, in fact, more of stunted FPS with stats representative of what early '90s "RPGs" amounted to (and what the genre is, in fact, looping back on – but more on that in a minute).

Skip ahead six, seven years and we got our first taste of true, computerized RPGs with Fallout (1997) and Baldur's Gate (1998). These games were the Genuine Article, covering all four tenents of RPG-dom. You got to create a character, roleplay them, have the success of your decisions determined by the game's system and shape their advancement (though moreso in Fallout than BG). On top of that, the games both epitomized excellent writing, design and memorable, entertaining gameplay, heralding a shortlived golden age for the genre.

Some worthy successors followed — like Fallout 2 (1998), Planescape: Torment (1999), Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn (2000), the KOTORs (2003, 2004), Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines (2004), Fallout: New Vegas (2010) or Dragon Age: Origins — and then something odd began to happen: the nicer looking the games got, the dumber and more constrained they became.

The 'why' is no big mystery: writing a gripping, entertaining story is a difficult enough proposition (just look at Baldur's Gate 2 with its one million — or all seven Harry Potter books' worth of — words); which only gets harder when you factor in player choice and the branchings of plot they can produce. And as game audiences are increasingly more composed of Watchers, rather than Readers, it's little wonder that studios decided to stake the success of their games on Spectacle rather than Plot.

Spectacle's relatively easy to achieve, after all. There are tools for making it (like graphics engines, effects packages and associated software). And while, undeniably, Spectacle still requires some talent (as most things do), it's a cakewalk compared to writing a memorable Plot. Plots are all talent: no shortcuts, no gimmicks, no handy-dandy software to bail you out... Either you have it in you to write a story that will be clever and engaging or – you don't. And – worst of all? Plots are subjective: just because yours is a good one is no guarantee it'll sell (whereas Spectacles sell the same pretty much every time).

So, essentially, Spectacle was the safer bet that was quicker to produce and more consistent. And thanks to that, we started getting beleaguered by "RPGs" that cut back on character complexity, skills and decision-making in favor of flashy graphics and action-oritented gameplay. This gave us the Mass Effect games, Fallouts 3 and 4, a new generation of Deus Ex titles, all three Witchers and even Cyberpunk 2077. Fun? Undeniably. RPGs? Not in the strictest sense.

Take a look at IGN's list and you will find an encapsulation of the modern state of RPGs. Starfield? It's the same game Bethesda's been making since Arena came out in 1994: first-person action on a huge map populated by Locations You Fight At with a plot dumber than a sack of bricks. Diablo IV? Third-person clicking for loot-obsessed hamsters in a linear plot you have no influence over. Sea of Stars, Octopath Traveler and In Stars and Time? JRPGs incarnate: a fixed plot and premade characters for whom you manage inventory, click through dialogue and handle battles. Cyberpunk? An FPS with conversations... And Baldur's Gate 3? An RPG, sure, but still irksome (if Larian really wanted to show how creative and talented they were, they could have done so with an IP of their very own).

While outliers still crop up in unexpected places (like the excellent Disco Elysium or the "surprisingly deep given its FPS core" Outer Worlds), on the whole, the industry consensus seems to be More Flash, Less Substance. Which isn't surprising or, on the whole, even bad, but does make this pig, at least, a little heartsick.

Imagine liking interactive stories a great deal and being shown several that promise more: more involvement, more freedom, more choice... Then imagine realizing what you've just experienced was the pinnacle and the rest is gonna be downhill...

Despite my inherent disappointment with what "RPGs" amount to, nowadays, I keep hoping to be pleasantly surprised (I mean: why not? Optimism's free). But until such a time arrives, the least game studios could do is qualify their games accurately... If your game is an FPS with stats and dialogue, an action clicker with inventory management or a Soulslike with a branching plot — but it's good — people will still play it.

So where's the harm in calling things by their proper name?