As Rockstar’s blockbuster prepares to dominate the headlines, it’s time for the mainstream media to stop treating video games as a novelty that needs explaining

Predictably, the Grand Theft Auto VI “extended look” which premiered on Netflix last week was a success for all involved. The 30-minute preview scorched to No 1 on the viewing chart and even brought the site down for a few minutes as millions of gamers tried to watch what was, effectively, a very long teaser trailer. According to data collated by Eurogamer, more than 9,000 Twitch streamers covered the show leading to 5,227,798 hours of viewing there alone. And this was just the beginning of what will surely be two months of escalating hype – and unprecedented media attention.

Call me cynical, but I suspect the coverage of GTA VI in the media over the next few weeks will follow a familiar pattern. Mostly, it will be five-minute slots wedged in near the end of news bulletins in which games journalists, industry analysts and other pundits will be asked why the game is such a big deal, how much it cost to make and how much revenue it will generate. Perhaps a few will try to reignite the hoary old “violence in video games” debate, there will be presenters laughingly admitting they’ve not touched a game since Pac-Man, rolling their eyes and wallowing in their ignorance, in a way they never would while discussing any other art form. Somebody will venture the subversive view that “games are no longer just for kids”; somebody else will say “games make more money than films and music put together”. And that will be that, job done for another decade … or until there’s a funny story about Pokémon.

If you have to Google an internet or gen Z/alpha slang term, you absolutely shouldn’t be using it. I’m accepting this milestone with quiet dignity

I’ve just reached an important adult milestone. Getting married? No. Having a baby? No. Buying a house? Don’t be ridiculous, I’m a writer in Australia. This milestone was small but important: I finally had to Google a gen Z slang term.

I know this may be something many of you have passed already, along with your houses and babies, but I am someone who has been online for a long time. It’s been necessary for my career but it’s also my favourite hobby: going on the internet.

Rebecca Shaw is a writer based in Sydney

Nutzer verbringen Stunden in Livestreams, schicken ihren Internetidolen Geld. Die Sozialpsychologin Johanna Degen erklärt, wie Plattformen wie Twitch Nähe vorgaukeln – und warum das gefährlich werden kann.

The world’s most successful gamer content creators, many of whom have spent their entire adult life on the platform, have met up at TwitchCon in Rotterdam

Aimee Davies, better known as Aimsey to their fans, is 24 but looks much younger. Sitting in a bland meeting room above the annual TwitchCon event in Rotterdam, they’re a barely contained whirl of energy in a beanie hat and T-shirt, all smiles and lightning-fast chatter. Aimsey (who uses they/them pronouns) is also a Twitch veteran, having started streaming eight years ago at the tender age of 16. A million subscribers tune in every week to see them chaotically play Minecraft and share snippets of their life. They have grown up, from teen to young adult, carrying a vast audience with them into maturity. What is it like to experience that?

“When you’re 16 you want to tell everyone everything about you,” they say as music blares from the event below. “When I came out as a lesbian, I told the world. Every part of my identity, my mental health struggles … I thought if I could help one person feel like they weren’t alone, I wanted to do that.”

Previously prohibited use of websites such as Omoggle that connect a streamer to a stranger’s video feed now allowed

Last week, at 4am, 19-year-old Sammy Amz was scrolling through X when something caught his eye: a popular Twitch streamer was competing in a 1v1 “mog-off” with a stranger, and losing.

The next day he opened the Omoggle gaming website and began to play. Quickly he matched with another user – green dots appeared on their faces onscreen, as the website began to compare their measurements: canthal tilt, palpebral fissure ratio, nose-to-face width ratio and so on.

From Stewart Lee in his wolf costume to Werner Herzog’s big steak sizzle-up, artists are now under huge duress to ‘chase the algorithm’ and reach audiences. Many of them are hitting burnout – and hitting back

There was a meme recently featuring Tony Soprano looking characteristically menacing, with a caption that reads: “Imagine telling him he needs to create short form content to engage the algorithm.” But that sentiment feels inescapable: 82% of all internet traffic is now made up of videos, and the number of short-form videos published on the likes of TikTok and Instagram grew by 71% in the year from 2024.

You may have noticed there is a particularly high number of videos featuring people’s faces, which the algorithm rewards. All of a sudden, chefs, lawyers, podcasters, critics – all people with jobs once associated with an off-camera existence – are turning the lens on themselves. Even film director Werner Herzog, a once proud non-social media user, is now sizzling steaks and doing unboxing videos to camera.

Immer mehr Frauen in Deutschland werden zum Ziel von Deepfakes, das heißt von KI-generierter Pornografie. Pia Scholz und andere Betroffene fordern gesetzliche Maßnahmen dagegen.

It may look like an unnecessary sequel, but even as someone who played the original cleaning game for a record-setting 24 hours straight, I’m hooked all over again

Does the world really need another PowerWash Simulator game? No, some will say. Probably people who have never played the original and don’t understand the appeal, but like to tilt their head with a mixture of bemusement and condescension and say: “So what do you do in the game? Just wash things?”

(It feels unfair that other pastimes don’t have to justify themselves like this. No one ever says, “Wait, you just run around the park in a circle for five kilometres?” Or, “So you just kick the ball with your foot?”)