I have owned every system from every major manufacturer for over thirty years. Even before that, I always had at least one console from each generation. Between physical collections, digital purchases and bundles, I own literally thousands upon thousands of games across those machines.
The slightly ridiculous part is that many of them remain unplayed. Like most people, I have had a job for the majority of that time and, for the last decade, I have also been a dad. The time available to actually play games has never matched the number of games I have collected.
Despite that, I have always enjoyed owning the hardware. I love new tech! And each console generation brought something new. New ideas, new controllers, new ways to play and new experiences that made owning multiple platforms worthwhile.
But over the last few years, and especially over the last few months, I have started questioning whether that still makes sense.
With the direction Sony and Microsoft have taken, I am no longer convinced that buying every new generation of console is the obvious choice it once was.
Does it really make sense to spend as much on a games machine as you would on a decent gaming PC while getting fewer of the advantages?
Ownership that isn’t ownership
A console used to represent simplicity.
You bought the hardware, bought a game, put the disc or cartridge in and played. You could lend it to a friend, sell it, collect it or return to it years later. The relationship between player and product was clear.
Digital distribution has changed that relationship.
The convenience is undeniable. Games are available instantly, storage is easier and updates can fix problems that would previously have required a replacement disc. There are genuine benefits to the modern model.
The trade-off is that the ownership model has changed. When you purchase a digital game, you are purchasing a licence to access that game through a platform controlled by someone else.
That access depends on several things continuing to work: the company maintaining the service, the storefront remaining available, your account remaining accessible and the platform continuing to support the hardware.
The industry has already shown that digital libraries are not permanent in the same way physical collections are.
Sony announced plans in 2021 to close the PlayStation 3, PSP and Vita digital storefronts before reversing the decision for PS3 and Vita following significant customer backlash. Nintendo eventually closed the Wii Shop Channel and later the 3DS and Wii U eShops, removing the ability to purchase many digital titles. Microsoft closed the Xbox 360 Marketplace in 2024, ending digital purchases for that platform.
Each decision had a business justification. Older platforms become more expensive to maintain. Security updates cost money. Licensing agreements expire. Companies have to make commercial decisions.
The problem is that those decisions directly affect the people who invested in those ecosystems.
A physical collection can outlive the company that created it. A digital collection depends on the company continuing to provide access.
That difference matters.
Servers as a Sword of Damocles
The increasing requirement for online connectivity creates another problem.
Many modern games are effectively tied to servers, even when the game itself appears to be something that should work offline. Once those servers disappear, the experience can disappear with them.
The shutdown of Ubisoft’s The Crew servers in 2024 highlighted this issue. The game required a permanent online connection, meaning that when Ubisoft ended support, players could no longer access the game they had purchased.
The hardware still worked, the game files still existed and the purchase had already been made. The service required to make the game function was simply gone.
This was one of the examples that helped drive the “Stop Killing Games” campaign, which argues that publishers should consider what happens to games when commercial support ends.
This is becoming a wider preservation issue. Gaming history is increasingly dependent on companies whose primary responsibility is running profitable businesses. Preservation matters to players, historians and communities, but it is rarely the main priority for publishers.
That creates a tension between the commercial life of a game and its cultural life.
A company may see an old game as an obsolete product. Players may see it as something they bought, enjoyed and want to preserve.
Trusting companies with your entire library
There is also the question of trust.
Building a digital library worth thousands of pounds means placing a huge amount of confidence in a single account and ecosystem.
Sony’s 2011 PlayStation Network breach exposed the personal information of approximately 77 million accounts, forced the service offline for weeks and remains one of the largest security incidents in gaming history.
Account security has improved since then, but the underlying concern remains. A lifetime of purchases is tied to systems controlled by someone else.
A physical collection has weaknesses. Discs scratch. Batteries fail. Hardware eventually breaks.
However, the ownership model is fundamentally different. A cartridge or disc does not require permission from a server before it can be used.
Digital libraries provide convenience and accessibility. They also create dependence.
PC: The long-term platform
PC gaming has quietly become the strongest option for long-term access and preservation.
It offers backwards compatibility stretching back decades, hardware flexibility, open distribution options and a community that frequently keeps old games alive long after official support ends.
When multiplayer servers disappear, communities often create replacements. When compatibility breaks, players create patches and fixes. When publishers move on, enthusiasts frequently keep games available.
That culture of preservation is one of PC gaming’s biggest strengths.
The gap between console and PC has also narrowed considerably. Modern consoles require large downloads, mandatory updates, installations and regular patches. Many games depend heavily on online services, even when they are marketed as standalone experiences.
The old idea of simply buying a game, putting it in the machine and owning the complete experience has become much less common.
A modern console is increasingly similar to a locked-down PC, but with fewer options for upgrading, modifying and preserving the software you buy.
The platform question is changing
For decades, owning multiple consoles made sense because each platform offered something different.
Sony had its franchises. Microsoft had its ecosystem. Nintendo had its unique approach to games and hardware.
That balance is changing, but not equally across all manufacturers.
Nintendo remains the strongest argument for owning dedicated hardware. Its games are built around its own systems, and its first-party franchises continue to provide experiences that are difficult to replicate elsewhere.
The Switch demonstrated that a console can still succeed because of its identity rather than simply being the cheapest place to play third-party games.
Nintendo also continues to maintain a stronger relationship with physical ownership. Most major releases are still available on physical media, allowing players to build collections that are not entirely dependent on a digital storefront remaining active.
The question is how long that approach will continue.
The wider industry is moving towards digital distribution, subscriptions and platform-controlled ecosystems. Nintendo has resisted that trend more than Sony and Microsoft, but it operates in the same industry and faces the same commercial pressures.
For Sony and Microsoft, the calculation is different.
Sony’s decision to release many of its major first-party games on PC weakened one of the traditional reasons for buying PlayStation hardware. The games are still valuable, but the question becomes whether delayed access to those titles is enough to justify the cost of the platform.
Microsoft moved even further towards a broader ecosystem strategy, making many Xbox games available beyond Xbox hardware. If the company now places more emphasis on exclusives again, it suggests that it recognises hardware still needs a compelling reason to exist.
That leads to the key question: are the exclusives enough?
For some players, absolutely. A single franchise or a handful of exceptional games can justify owning a platform. Nintendo proves that every generation. Sony and Microsoft face a different challenge because much of their gaming experience overlaps with PC.
A capable gaming PC already provides access to most third-party games, a huge back catalogue, community support and increasingly, games that were once reasons to buy a console.
The future may not be a world without dedicated hardware. It may simply be a world where a Nintendo console alongside a PC makes more sense than owning three or four separate platforms.
Nintendo provides the unique experiences. PC provides the broadest library and strongest long-term ownership model.
Sony and Microsoft have to prove that their hardware offers enough beyond those two options to justify another generation of investment.
Sony and Microsoft are creating their own problem
The frustrating part is that this situation was avoidable.
Sony and Microsoft built these ecosystems. They encouraged players to move from physical ownership towards digital libraries, subscriptions and connected services because those models offered clear benefits for both companies and consumers.
The problem is that the balance of control has shifted heavily towards the platform owners – and that transition depended on trust.
Players needed to believe that the games they purchased would remain available. They needed confidence that their collections would survive platform changes and corporate decisions.
Every closed storefront, discontinued service and inaccessible game weakens that confidence.
The issue is not that companies need to make money. Of course they do.
The issue is that the interests of shareholders and the interests of long-term collectors are not always the same.
For a hobby built around collecting, nostalgia and preserving experiences, that is a difficult direction to accept.
Enough is enough
I already own more games than I could realistically play in a lifetime.
I have enough hardware to experience decades of gaming history without buying another console. I have entire generations of machines and thousands of games waiting for me.
If a new release genuinely interests me, there is a good chance it will either come to PC or eventually arrive there.
I can see a future where my gaming setup is not every console from every manufacturer, but a PC combined with Nintendo hardware.
The PC provides access to the wider gaming ecosystem, long-term compatibility and preservation. Nintendo provides the unique experiences that still justify dedicated hardware.
That leaves Sony and Microsoft with the hardest question to answer: why should someone invest in another expensive closed ecosystem when so much of what they offer is already available elsewhere, with fewer compromises?
The next generation of consoles may be more powerful than ever. They may have incredible games. They may still sell millions of units. But power alone is no longer enough.
For players who value ownership, preservation and long-term access to their collections, the decision is becoming much harder.
After more than thirty years of buying consoles, I think this may finally be the generation where I stop.