Phil Bothun, 70 Percent Complete:

Which makes sense: after the less-than-stellar sales of the WiiU, Nintendo has had 8 years of massive success, enjoying the success that comes from smart, innovative design and long tail growth from lowering the barriers for indies and third parties. That’s only really possible because of that coalescing: porting and selling games becomes easier (and more profitable) when the platforms are more similar.

But the downside is where we are now: this massive storyline for the past two or three years of “when is the Switch Pro or Switch 2 coming out?” ends leaving me feeling kinda bored. Sure, price plays a part in that: $299 for a Switch felt good in 2017, but $450 now doesn’t feel quite as nice. And yeah, the games look good, but I already have too many games to play on my other incremental consoles. The realm of innovative game design seems to have fallen to indies, most of which don’t require the power of a PS5’s hard drive, a 5090, or yeah, a Nintendo Switch 2.

The internet is awash with Nintendo Switch 2 takes, from hands-on impressions to business analysis to uncovering the things unsaid by Nintendo. I don’t have much to add — I think it looks fine, the price kind of sucks, I’ll probably get one ASAP because I just can’t help myself with a new Nintendo console — but I wanted to document a handful of “bugaboos” about the Switch 2. (I posted these to Bluesky, but this blog will live in posterity.)

1. No OLED

Upgrading from the original Switch to the Switch OLED felt like a revelation. The inky blacks, brilliant hues, and increased brightness made the device feel premium. Jumping from a 6.2-inch screen to a 7.0-inch screen was much more comfortable. Hades is a standout. Metroid Dread is gorgeous. All older games almost feel new again. “Seeing” a transition to and from a loading screen go completely black in my already very dark room feels oddly magical. Yes, I am a sucker for OLED.

I was very disappointed to learn that Switch 2 has reverted back to an LED screen (with HDR). Nintendo even neglected to show a Switch OLED during the Switch 2 presentation, likely to create the optics that the Switch 2’s 7.9-inch display is notably larger than the original Switch’s 6.2-inch screen (as opposed to the Switch OLED’s 7.0-inch screen).

In my heart of hearts, I know this won’t really affect my enjoyment of the console, but I know I’ll be bothered by it, knowing Nintendo will likely release an OLED version mid-cycle with a smaller bezel (thus larger screen) and an even more beautiful picture. While next-gen does not equal “premium”, the downgrade feels like a missed opportunity to meet the premium market where it is as a standout device.

Understanding the cost of Switch 2 is $450 US (sans tariffs), perhaps the decision to sacrifice an OLED screen was one that had to be made to counter an even more shocking price tag. And offering a “premium” version alongside a standard version would undercut a mid-cycle refresh and perhaps create additional insult to the injury of the already high price.

The snob in me is not excited to see a big gray box between load-ins.

2. No Built-in Camera

This is at once easy to ignore and completely shocking. Nintendo spent a fair amount of time focused on the Switch 2’s GameChat social feature, including their first-party camera that can be used in docked mode to stream your face and/or create in-game avatars.

I repeat: Docked. Mode.

After the first six months of the original Switch’s launch in 2017, Nintendo stated that only 20% of users play primarily in TV (Docked) Mode. 30% primarily in Tabletop/Handheld Mode; 50% in both Docked and Handheld Mode.

I’m extremely curious how these numbers have changed after eight years of a gangbusters run, including the Switch Lite (2019) that cannot be docked. But I’m sure primarily Docked Mode has not become any more favorable. So, it’s curious that the camera feature of GameChat is only available via the Dock.

In an effort to declutter our house, I’ve mounted my Switch dock behind my TV. I’m certainly not going to be sticking a camera out from the side it. Without that, I have no way to share my killer facial reactions when I destroy friends in Mario Kart World on Switch 2.

GameChat seems to be a feature Nintendo is hanging its hat on for Switch 2 — one that even gets its own dedicated “C” button. Wouldn’t a built-in camera for Handheld mode make sense? Unlike an OLED screen, this seems like a hardware feature that wouldn’t break the bank. The Wii U Gamepad had a camera. The DSi and 3DS had cameras. Even the Game Boy had a camera! (Yeah, yeah…) This just seems like a very weird miss for a feature Nintendo is building its own hardware accessory to support. Maybe the justification is that Handheld users are less likely to have an internet connection and therefore couldn’t use the camera for this purpose. But no internet means no GameChat altogether. And surely a camera could be used for other fun features. Weird!

Bonus: No Wind Waker HD?!

There’s surely no better way to advertise GameCube games coming to Nintendo Switch Online than with one of the greatest Zelda games of all time, which is exactly what Nintendo did when they announced The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker as a launch title for the Nintendo Switch Online GameCube library.

However, we’ve now gone a full console cycle without said great Wii U HD port of one of said greatest Zelda games of all time. I shouldn’t be so dramatic about a Wii U port, but a handful of the Switch’s best titles are Wii U ports. Switch launched with Wii U ports Mario Kart 8 Deluxe (the #1 bestselling Switch game) and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (yes, I count it as a port)! There’s long been speculation that the Wind Waker port — along with the port of Twilight Princess — has been in the can and ready for release at any time, likely a “break glass in case of emergency” situation.

While the release of the original is great for the sake of preservation, it’s a gut-punch for anyone eager to play the acclaimed, refined, and enhanced HD port. Now the chances of the port making it to the Switch 2 feel years away.

For now, we can try to ignore that something better is likely sitting on a shelf and relive the magic of the original through pillarboxing. (I only want to see 4:3 on my CRT.)

Lewis Gordon writing for this gorgeous article on The New York Times (Note: This article is walled off. I’m not sure if I was able to access it because we subscribe to the NYT Cooking app, or if it was because I simply signed in with an existing account):

The two Metroidvania progenitors — 1986’s Metroid and 1987’s Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest — cultivated a sense of geographical bewilderment by letting players unfurl the secrets of their arcane worlds in any direction along the X and Y axes. Part of the charm is that the entirety of these expansive play spaces is not immediately accessible: Sections lie gated behind power-ups, like the so-called Morph Ball and High Jump Boots in Metroid, and players are forced to rely on a labyrinthine map.

Decades later, the genre continues to yield rich rewards. Ultros, Animal Well and Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown were included on many best of 2024 lists, and other notable releases within the past year include Nine Sols, Tales of Kenzera: Zau and Ender Magnolia: Bloom in the Mist.

The genre has come to be known for its friction, with a propensity for baffling mazelike settings, acute sense of isolation and often punishing combat. Yet Jeremy Parish, a journalist who helped popularize the term Metroidvania and wrote an upcoming book on the genre, said that in some ways they are more accessible role-playing games that do not get bogged down in stats and menus. Characters grow while exploring a vast world, allowing Metroidvanias to deliver immersion, exploration and a sense of discovery.

Metroidvanias (referred to as “search-action games” in Japan, as listeners of The Besties will recognize) are some of my favorite games. A few years ago, in anticipation for Metroid Dread, I played through the five core 2D Metroid games:

• Metroid: Zero Mission (GBA)
• Metroid: Samus Returns (3DS)
• Super Metroid (SNES (via 3DS))
• Metroid Fusion (GBA)
• Metroid Dread (Switch)

Before that, I’d played through and loved Ori and the Blind Forest and Ori and the Will of the Wisps.

To Parish’s point, immersion and discovery are my favorite parts of Metroidvanias. But I’ve learned that locomotion is critical to making them feel great. Ori and Zero Mission: Bingo. Super Metroid: Not so much.

It’s a wonderful genre that continues to innovate, seemingly at all odds with its narrow corridors and repetitive core-loop. How cool that The New York Times gave the genre this beautiful treatment.

(I prefer Into the Aether’s term “Gate-Punk” for this genre.)

Last week, I welcomed games journalist Andy Robertson to Y-Button to talk about his new project Ludocene — a video game recommendation deck-builder in the form of a simple dating app. Ludocene’s special sauce lies in its human-centric connections (players who liked this also liked this) and “expert cards” that you can use to augment your recommendations — tastemakers that Andy and team have paid (which is where much of the Kickstarter contributions will go in the future).

About half of the episode is focused on some nitpicky details of Ludocene. The other half gets to the mystery and organic nature of video games, and why adults should lean into curiosity as opposed to dismissal of the new gaming experiences kids prefer.

This episode came together extremely quickly. I read The Guardian’s post about Ludocene, I connected with Andy on Bluesky, he recognized me from a conversation we’d had years ago, then he DMed an offer of a press kit to write something up. I agreed, but quickly realized it’d be more fun to talk about Ludocene on my podcast. Andy agreed. The next morning we recorded for an hour (before I rushed to work), I blurted out an intro and outro, sent the recordings to my editor AJ Fillari, I listened back, and we launched the episode in less than 24 hours. Podcasting pros out there may not think much of that, but for three people in three different time zones (and one with an extremely busy day job, speaking for myself), it felt like quite the feat. I’m really proud of this one. And I’m very excited for Ludocene.

Y-Button: 15 - Andy Robertson (Ludocene, Family Gaming Database, Taming Gaming): Website | Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Overcast | Pocket Casts

An article from The Atlantic by Derek Thompson titled “The Anti-Social Century” (Atlantic link; free Apple News+ link) has been making the rounds in my feeds. It’s a great piece that says the quiet part out loud — society has become homebodies to the point of extreme danger. We’re glued to our phones and TV, tucked away in the comforts of our own homes, shut away from our neighbors, and afraid to interact with strangers.

There are some great insights and observations in the piece and I strongly suggest you read it. However, I find it shocking that podcasts are not mentioned once.

I empathize with the piece. I’ve been working with therapists and a career coach recently to figure out why I don’t feel fulfilled in my work and how to stave off or work through bouts of extreme depression and anxiety. It’s becoming quite clear that I don’t spend enough time out with other people. Even in the workplace, I find myself working more with colleagues in other parts of the world than I do in my local office. And I’m coming to find that one of my remedies for loneliness is podcasts.

Over the course of a year, I will listen to hundreds of hours of the same voices. One-way conversations where I feel intimately familiar with the hosts’ lives; laughing, nodding, and crying along to their conversations as if they are speaking to me privately. I feel a connection to these people with shared interests, hobbies, humor, and passions, many of which I’ve never met. And just as soon as I have a quiet moment to acknowledge that this intimacy is false, another episode is right there to fill the silence.

I’ve been fortunate enough to befriend some of the hosts of my favorite podcasts. Thankfully, that “connection” and “intimacy” have borne fruit. Now when I listen to thier shows, I know there exists a genuine relationship where I can reach out directly and chat about a topic they brought up, or something else entirely. But that is not the case for the overwhelming majority of podcast listeners. Yet, they likely feel an “intimate connection” to their favorite hosts.

So, when I came across this bit in Thompson’s piece, a chill ran down my spine:

AI’s ability to speak naturally might seem like an incremental update, as subtle as a camera-lens refinement on a new iPhone. But according to Nick Epley, fluent speech represents a radical advancement in the technology’s ability to encroach on human relationships.

“Once an AI can speak to you, it’ll feel extremely real,” he said, because people process spoken word more intimately and emotionally than they process text. For a study published in 2020, Epley and Amit Kumar, a psychologist at the University of Texas at Austin, randomly assigned participants to contact an old friend via phone or email. Most people said they preferred to send a written message. But those instructed to talk on the phone reported feeling “a significantly stronger bond” with their friend, and a stronger sense that they’d “really connected,” than those who used email.

Speech is rich with what are known as “paralinguistic cues,” such as emphasis and intonation, which can build sympathy and trust in the minds of listeners. In another study, Epley and the behavioral scientist Juliana Schroeder found that employers and potential recruiters were more likely to rate candidates as “more competent, thoughtful, and intelligent” when they heard a why-I’m-right-for-this-job pitch rather than read it.

This bit about AI is hardly the meat of the article. Perhaps even a distraction from the core thesis. But it did remind me of a fear I’ve had for a few years now — one that seemed almost too “science fiction” to write about, but is no longer fiction: Personalized AI-generated podcasts.

Years ago, the concept of podcast dynamic ad insertion led me to consider a sci-fi future where beyond ads, podcasts became hyper-tailored to the listener. To Epley’s point, speech can create a much stronger bond than text. What if a podcast could tailor itself to you, going as far as to address you by name? This would not only be compelling in the face of loneliness, but extremely dangerous considering the free-range of rhetoric available in podcasts.

So when Spotify announced that they had partnered with Google to create custom Spotify Wrapped AI Podcasts for each Spotify user, you can see why I freaked out a little bit.

I’m sure I’m behind the curve here, and not only is Google’s NotebookLM playing in this space, but people are surely feeding their digital interactions with obedient GenAI content. So what stops a future where we are not only reading what we want to read, but we’re hearing what what we want to hear from a voice speaking directly to us for hundreds of hours a year?