The desire to create a definitive, objective ranking of the “best games of all time” is a perennial exercise in the gaming community. From magazine features to online listicles, the attempt to crown a single champion or establish a fixed canon is a seductive one. It promises order, clarity, and a shared cultural touchstone. Yet, this pursuit is ultimately a beautiful, fascinating fool’s errand. dadu 4d The very idea of a fixed canon is antithetical to the nature of games as a diverse, evolving, and deeply personal medium. The quest for a single list is not just impossible; it misses the point of what makes gaming so richly rewarding.
The most immediate obstacle is the problem of criteria. What metric could possibly be used to compare such fundamentally different experiences? How does one weigh the flawless, cinematic narrative of The Last of Us against the boundless, systemic creativity of The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom? How does the perfect competitive balance of Street Fighter 6 stack up against the profound loneliness of Shadow of the Colossus? Each is a masterpiece in its own domain, but those domains are so disparate that any comparison becomes a meaningless apples-to-oranges debate. Excellence is not a monolith; it is a spectrum of different virtues.
Furthermore, the context of time renders any permanent list obsolete. A game that was technically revolutionary upon release, like GoldenEye 007 on the N64, may be nearly unplayable by modern standards due to archaic controls. Its historical importance is undeniable, but its position on a “best of” list is constantly shifting as the medium evolves and new players encounter it without the lens of nostalgia. Conversely, a game like Chrono Trigger continues to find new audiences because its pixel art and turn-based combat are timeless artistic choices, not technical limitations. The canon is not fixed; it is in a constant state of flux, being rewritten with each new generation of games and players.
The personal and subjective nature of taste is the final and most important nail in the coffin of a definitive list. Gaming is unique in its interactivity; the player is a co-author of the experience. Therefore, one’s relationship with a game is shaped by their own skills, preferences, and life experiences. A game that requires immense dedication and skill, like Elden Ring, will be a transcendent masterpiece for one player and an exercise in frustration for another. Neither perspective is wrong. A game’s quality isn’t an intrinsic property but emerges from the interaction between the software and the human being holding the controller.
Rather than seeking a definitive canon, a more productive approach is to celebrate the vast and varied pantheon of exceptional games. We should embrace the idea of multiple canons: a canon of influential games, a canon of narrative triumphs, a canon of mechanical innovation, a canon of competitive excellence, and, most importantly, our own personal canons. The games that moved us, challenged us, and stayed with us.