The announcement of Pokémon Legends: Z-A should’ve been a pure celebration. The Pokémon Legends sub-series, sparked by the fresh take of Arceus, promised a franchise finally breaking free from its rigid formula. But that excitement can’t be separated from the stark reality of its $60 price tag. This isn’t just a case of a game looking a bit rough; it’s a perfect example of a beloved IP being hollowed out by the logic of neoliberal commodification. Under this system, every aspect of a cultural product—from its art to its very soul—is optimized for market efficiency and profit extraction, and Z-A looks like its latest, most unpolished commodity.
In our neoliberal framework, the primary mandate for a game isn’t to create a beautiful or immersive world—it’s to maximize shareholder value. Investing heavily in detailed textures and complex environments doesn’t provide the same return on investment (ROI) as cutting those corners does. The now-infamous flat walls of Lumiose City aren’t just an aesthetic choice; they’re a calculated business decision. Why spend the time and money when the brand power alone guarantees sales? The game’s visual presentation isn’t accidentally poor; it’s efficiently poor. It meets the minimum viable standard for being recognizably “Pokémon,” allowing resources to be diverted or minimized to protect the profit margin. We’re not paying for a crafted experience; we’re subsidizing a business model that views artistic polish as an unnecessary expense.
This logic extends to the gameplay itself. The clunky controls and unresponsive cameras we’ve seen aren’t just oversights; they’re the direct result of a production schedule designed for market consistency, not quality. In a neoliberal system, constant growth is required. For Pokémon, that means a predictable, annualized release cycle to feed the multimedia outlets—the TV show, the cards, the merchandise. There’s no room for delays to polish the core game because that would disrupt the flow of capital. The “jank” is a feature of the system, not a bug. Player agency and satisfaction are secondary to the overarching goal of hitting a financial quarter’s targets. It’s a stark reminder that the game is a product first and an piece of interactive art a distant second.
The most glaring evidence of this shift is the apparent lack of basic Quality Assurance (QA). The notorious visual and mechanical bugs in Pokémon Scarlet and Violet weren’t an anomaly; they were a symptom. When you see similar red flags in Z-A’s previews, it confirms a pattern. In a truly competitive market, a product with significant technical flaws would fail. But Pokémon doesn’t operate in a normal competitive landscape; it’s a cultural monopoly. The brand is so powerful that it can absorb the hit to its reputation because it’s calculated that the lost sales from disappointed fans are less than the money saved by under-funding QA teams and rushing the release. The customer, in this equation, is simply the endpoint for distribution. Their experience is a variable to be managed, not a priority to be served.
Pokémon Legends: Z-A is a textbook example of neoliberal commodification. The $60 price tag is a market price set by brand value, not a reflection of the product’s intrinsic worth. The flat walls, the clunky controls, and the minimal QA are all rational outcomes of a system that prizes financialization above all else. By getting excited for the nostalgia and accepting the poor quality, we’re participating in our own exploitation. We’re validating a model that sees our beloved childhood memories not as something to be honored, but as a resource to be efficiently mined until it’s depleted. The game itself becomes a simulacrum of a Pokémon adventure—a cheap, efficient copy that’s sold back to us at a premium, proving that under neoliberalism, even magic can be squeezed into a quarterly earnings report.
In general, I do agree with your point about Legends Z-A being a great example of neoliberal commodification. Personally, I’ve seen critiques like these ever since Pokemon Sword and Shield released (although I’m sure they can date back even earlier), and it seems that those in power have no interest in changing things anytime soon. However, I do wonder if this depiction of cold-hearted, calculating, neoliberalism in the making of the game is entirely accurate. While the executives and businessmen in charge may certainly be think like this, pokemon games are still made by a massive team of artists. Do these people also only care about making a profit from their work, or are they genuinely talented and passionate artists that want to make something meaningful, but are limited by the constraints of time and budget imposed upon them. Personally, despite the game itself not living up to expectations, I do like to think that the people making these games still actually try, and as such I don’t know if I can confidently believe that the soul of Pokemon as a cultural product has been compromised. The game still has plenty of merits, and I don’t if this neoliberal commodification is as complete as others claim it is.