Carter Sherman is a journalist with four Emmy nominations for reporting on gender and politics. She was genuinely afraid of certain rooms in The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time when she played it as a child in 1998.
Yet gaming journalism frames this childhood encounter as biographical trivia — a nostalgic aside bolted onto her real professional story. The game becomes decoration and Sherman becomes someone who used to engage with games, not someone whose formative encounters with interactive narrative shaped how she thinks about systems, consequence. Player agency.
Compare this to how literary journalism treats childhood reading. When a political analyst recalls being shaped by Orwell, or a designer by Borges, those encounters register as intellectual formation. The texts mattered and taught them to see. Gaming journalism has inverted this logic entirely.
This inversion happens because gaming outlets have never resolved whether games are entertainment or culture. And that uncertainty projects onto adults who grew up with them. The safe move is celebrating the person's other accomplishments, the ones outside the gaming world. The game becomes decoration. But this reveals something important about how we judge intellectual formation itself. We trust formal credentials and remain skeptical of pleasure-based learning.
Gaming journalism has inverted this logic.
A journalist shaped by years of play, observation. Consequence within interactive systems registers as less legitimate than one shaped by journalism school. This pattern isn't accidental. It's a failure of nerve about what counts as real learning. And it's costing us a richer understanding of how people actually develop the ability to think in systems.