How Demos Once Freed Us from Homogenized Media
I still remember unwrapping my PSP as a kid and finding a treasure trove of random free stuff packed in. I honestly discovered so much stuff just playing whatever was on it already. There was Natasha Bedingfield’s These Words playing in my ears, the whole first Ghostbusters movie to watch, and some weird little games I’d never even heard about. The whole thing just felt like a surprise grab bag, curated by someone who thought, “What if we just gave them a bunch of random stuff and let them figure it out?”
When Discovery Was Purposeful
Back then, you’d get a demo disc, and it’d have something for everyone: a racing game, a turn-based strategy game, a weird platformer with an obscure mascot. There was no algorithm crunching the numbers to predict what would get the highest click-through rate. Instead, you got a random mishmash of genres and styles, a thoughtfully curated randomness that forced you to try something new. It was a way of breaking out of the feedback loops a lot of us are trapped in now.
Compare that to today’s digital storefronts, where every game you see is filtered through layers of algorithms, designed to show you things that are “personalized” but actually just scratching the surface of what you'd like, the most generic recommendations. These systems learn what you already like and feed it back to you, over and over. There’s no serendipity, no friction. It’s all about efficiency and keeping you in a loop of predictability. And that loop is just... stifling.
And this isn’t just a gaming problem. It’s literally everywhere nowadays. Platforms like Spotify, YouTube, even online bookstores, are driven by the same logic. They’re not here to surprise you, oh no, they’re here to sell you on more of what you already know. And yeah, sometimes that works. But it also means you’re less likely to stumble upon something outside your usual preferences. You’re less likely to grow.
The magic of it all
Part of what made demos so cool was their physicality. Demo discs, shareware, cereals, kiosks at Blockbuster. These were things you could hold, trade and share with your friends. And because they were physical, they were limited, so you had to make do with what you got. That limitation looking back was liberating.
Think about how we interact with media now. Everything is infinite, on-demand, curated specifically to your tastes. But that infinite choice is paralyzing. There’s no surprise, no element of surprise. You’re not discovering things at all, you’re just being *shown* them. And that’s a completely different experience. It’s passive, not active. You’re not out there seeking new things; you’re just consuming what’s being served in front of you and just being fed endlessly.
Back in the demo disc era, you'd really have to engage. Maybe the disc only had five games on it, and one of them wasn’t something you’d usually play. But you’d try it anyway, because why not? It's free! And maybe you’d find something you loved. Maybe it’d change the way you thought about games, or about yourself. That’s the kind of discovery we’ve lost.
Trapped in the Algorithm's Loop
On the topic of algorithms, they’re inescapable now, shaping what we see, what we play, even what we think about. And the thing is, they’re not neutral. They’re systems made and designed to keep you in a box. They learn your preferences, but they also reinforce them. They don’t encourage experimentation; in fact they actually discourage it.
This isn’t just bad for players, it’s also bad for creators. When discovery is algorithm driven, only certain kinds of games get visibility. The type that the algorithm thinks, "Oh, a lot of people played this and it sold a ton, maybe you would like it too!" Usually safe, predictable games that fit into existing trends. And experimental, risky, or niche games get buried. And that’s a real problem, because those are often the games that push the medium forward.
Your Passport to Other Worlds
Demos introduced players to genres and styles they might never have encountered otherwise. The discs were full of unheard of games, quirky indie experiments, and weird one-off projects that didn’t really fit into neatly into one particular list. They kind of were a way of bridging gaps, of bringing people into experiences and games they didn’t even know existed.
Today, those bridges are ragged and are breaking down. These digital storefronts are regionalized and algorithmically tailored with a fine comb, prioritizing trends and sameness over global discovery. That means fewer chances to stumble upon something truly different. I don't know about you, but for me that’s a loss. Not just for players, but for the whole medium.
Chaos and Friction
One of the things I miss most about demos is that friction, baby. They weren’t optimized for convenience at all. They didn’t hold your hand or guide you through a perfectly curated experience. They just threw you in some random part of a game, and let you figure it out. And that friction was part of the fun. It forced you to engage with the game, and to learn its quirks and systems. It made the discovery feel earned.
Now, the bulk of media is smooth and seamless, no rough edges to be seen. Games are designed to be easy to pick up, with tutorials that walk you through every. single. mechanic. And yeah, that’s great for accessibility, but it also means there’s less room for experimentation, for trial and error, for growth. The friction is gone, and with it, a certain kind of joy.
Fighting Back
So, how do we bring back the feeling of discovery in an era dominated by algorithms and homogenization? It starts by changing the way you think about media. By completely rejecting the idea that everything needs to be smooth and seamless, with embracing friction, randomness, and experimentation. It starts with taking risks. As players, we can seek out games that aren’t algorithmically optimized. We can support indie developers and niche projects.
Demos haven't left at all, they do exist, with places like itch.io giving you tastes of a game. Like the actually amazing, recently released Haunted PS1 demo disc, which is a beautiful homage to the old demo disc way, adapted for the modern era. And also places like Steam Next Fest! Also, honestly just go out there and thoughtfully buy the media you like. Go to a thrift store and buy some DVDs and Blu-rays that you think look cool and have a great time. We can dig into archives and rediscover the weird, forgotten corners of gaming and media history.
And maybe, just maybe, we can create something new. Something messy, chaotic, and beautiful. Something that reminds us of what it felt like to try something genuinely different and realize that discovery is something we have an active role in.