Mentioned in this article Games: Dota 2, League of Legends

Dota 2 is one of the hardest esports to play. However, based on last week’s Shanghai Major, it’s also proven itself as one of the hardest to take seriously.

To sum up, if you’ve somehow missed the shitshow: lost equipment, significant delays, un-soundproofed booths, offensive broadcasts, the subsequent firing of the offensive broadcaster, firing of the production crew, an empty stadium, and to top it all off, massive theft from the teams’ practice room.

To me, much of the blame for these embarrassments falls squarely at the feet of Valve, a developer that has distanced itself from the rest of the esports community with a policy of non-involvement.

[perfectpullquote align=”right” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]All of this was preventable[/perfectpullquote]

Sure, some of this isn’t entirely their fault. James “2GD” Harding’s firing came as a result of his own bad decision to talk about masturbation on air. It doesn’t take a genius to know that unless you’re a professional comedian, discussing your masturbation habits to an audience larger than your living room is a big no-no. Doing so on an international broadcast is dumb, even for somebody who brands himself as edgy and was told to be exactly that: “himself.” As we discussed last week, there’s good ways and bad ways to show personality during broadcasts, and Harding chose the latter.

And, beyond Harding, you can also find fault in KeyTV’s production, which included numerous and significant mistakes, and distributor/developer Perfect World, who, one whistleblower claimed, handed the event to the lowest bidder and mismanaged several key decisions in producing the event.

However, all of this was preventable. The buck stops at the top, and, in my opinion, Valve is responsible for the embarrassment called the Shanghai Major, the continuing degradation of the Dota 2 professional scene, and ridicule of the entire esports industry.

Goodbye keyboard and mouse 🙂 one day I’ll return to China pubs to play versus my own peripherals. #fullcircle#headsupforthisplzXd — Johan Sundstein (@OG_BDN0tail) March 7, 2016

Non-involvement. That’s the word I’ve chosen to represent Valve’s stance on the esports scenes for its games. And while Valve’s stance has improved in recent years (and, in a statement regarding the Shanghai Major, the company stated that it will be “increasing [their] involvement moving forward”), it won’t be enough.

Take a look at Dota 2’s biggest competitor, League of Legends. Riot Games has, over the course of several years, hired hundreds of people to run its esports scene, and has local offices in multiple countries around the world.

[perfectpullquote align=”right” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]It is very likely that, behind the curtains at Valve, there is zero growth of institutional knowledge for the running of an esport.[/perfectpullquote]

Valve, on the other hand, has no outwardly-visible esports staff. All of its blog posts are penned by the mysterious “Dota Team.” I have tried, as have others, to determine more about this Dota Team, who it includes, and what it’s up to, but the unsatisfying answer is likely that the flexible structure of Valve’s employee pool means significant and frequent change behind the scene of it’s pro scene.

Lacking stability inside, Valve has turned outward for execution of its esports ambitions. Because the scene is international, that basically means relying on a group of random actors to get into the same position that Riot has spent years developing and fine-tuning. It is very likely that, behind the curtains at Valve, there is zero growth of institutional knowledge for the running of an esport.

For a scene like Counter-Strike, who have significant fan and content creator involvement, along with many other professional organizations stepping in to run tournaments, that’s not a big problem. But as evidenced in the Dota 2 scene, which lacks other significant major events, it’s a serious problem.

It’s important to note here that “significant major events” all revolve around the biggest event in the game’s pro structure. For Dota 2, that means the International, an event so big that it dwarfs everything else, only slightly altered by the recent addition of the Majors. The Majors, in turn, warp the other events as well, pushing out many tournaments that other esports would consider major, simply because teams only look at the prize pool. (Not convinced? Just go through the Liquipedia pages for Dota 2 and CS:GO tournaments, respectively, and count the number of tournaments considered Premier.)

Two years ago, I made the case that the size of the International was causing significant harm to its pro scene. The massive prize pool, combined with an unsustainable distribution that barely scratched the surface of its pro player base, was literally causing teams to crumble around it:

[perfectpullquote align=”full” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]”72 percent of teams that competed at The International last year no longer exist… China’s New Element, for example, has a rich match history leading up to and including the Chinese International 4 Qualifiers—where they lost and thus failed to reach the main event in Seattle. Following those matches in May, the team’s home page [was immediately] abandoned, and and they’ve played no professional games [since].”[/perfectpullquote]

Valve has since made several steps to reduce the impact the International has on its pro scene, with the primary move the introduction of three other Majors with $9 million split between them at stake. However, it remains to be seen whether this will properly diffuse the impact of the International. Meanwhile, other games with more involved developers are rocketing ahead.

More importantly, however, is that Valve non-involvement is clearly harming more than just its players. The Shanghai Major is a perfect example. ESL has been operating events out of China for years, include Riot Games’ All-Star Shanghai event three years ago.

[perfectpullquote align=”right” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]The Shanghai Major’s issues were due to Valve not wanting it to be anything better.[/perfectpullquote]

Yet, when Valve attempts to do something similar, in the same city, it’s a trainwreck. Let’s make it clear: the Shanghai Major’s issues were not due to some cultural misunderstanding. The Shanghai Major’s issues were due to Valve not wanting it to be anything better. Valve’s lack of involvement and oversight, combined with opting for the lowest bidders and fudging its way through the minor details are how shitstorms like the Shanghai Major happen.

It’s those minor details where institutional experience really comes in handy. Details like clear expectations for the broadcast desk. Details like soundproof booths. Details like having somebody fluent in English selecting the name labels during the broadcast. Details like not losing keyboards, and having a guard posted outside the room holding tens of thousands of dollars worth of personal and team equipment.

In other esports, this problem is easily solvable: teams just avoid bad tournaments. But Shanghai Major was one of only three others like it, with a $3 million prize pool. More importantly, the International is known to use direct invites for its seeding, and it’s very likely that Valve uses Major placement to determine those invites. Teams can’t afford to miss the chance to skip the TI qualifiers. They are being forced to attend tournaments with little oversight, and clearly few standards.

A photo posted by TeamSecretDOTA2 (@teamsecretdota2) on Mar 6, 2016 at 10:14pm PST

Dota 2 is basically the Donald Trump of esports. It wants to be the best, and it has a shot, but it doesn’t really care how it gets there. The end result of “biggest prize” justifies the means, even when the means are clearly causing industrial turmoil and embarrassing mainstream headlines.

[perfectpullquote align=”right” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Dota 2 is basically the Donald Trump of esports.[/perfectpullquote]

The Shanghai Major will go down in history, at least in the minds of non-Dota fans, for the very public firing of Harding by Valve’s CEO, Gabe Newell. The irony, of course, is that it’s Newell’s very own non-involvement policies that led to lax standards over broadcast content, which in turn led to Harding’s firing.

In any other sport, a failure on the scale of Shanghai Major would get fingers pointing at higher-ups. Producers would be punished, and the commissioner/president would have to answer for how mistakes were made. But Valve’s faceless “Dota Team” remains blameless, a function of its anonymity.

There remains only one person to blame, then, for the embarrassment of the Shanghai Major.

Gabe, if you care enough to fire a commentator, guess what? You have to care about the rest of it, too. You can’t be involved enough to instigate firing people, then walk away from the rest of the mess—namely, the decision to hire a poor production crew, the lack of on-site oversight, and the complete absence of any punishments for an industry-wide mark of shame.

Gabe, you need to take ownership of your pro scene. Because if you don’t, there’s nobody else to.