Highguard arrived under an unusually intense spotlight. Revealed as the closing "and finally" moment at last years The Game Awards, the title immediately drew scrutiny that had little to do with concrete information about the game and much to do with the fact it was another live-service proposition. That scrutiny hardened into criticism through the remainder of the year, and the game's launch this week has only amplified those voices.
The reaction to Highguard is symptomatic of a broader industry and player dynamic. Live-service games carry a heavy baggage of prior controversies: opaque monetisation, aggressive microtransactions, broken promises on content cadence, and the familiar spectre of abandoned projects after an initial money-grab phase. Those precedents have taught players caution and prompted vocal scepticism the moment a new live-service project appears, particularly when it receives disproportionate marketing focus before players have seen the finished product.
That scepticism is not misplaced as a matter of consumer protection. The commercial incentives that underpin many live-service models can and do shape design decisions away from long-term player satisfaction and towards short-term revenue. History provides concrete examples where monetisation structures undermined player trust, and where promised live-service roadmaps failed to materialise.
At the same time, the live-service model is not a monolith and has produced some of the most resilient and financially successful titles of the last decade. Games such as Destiny 2, Warframe, Fortnite, Apex Legends and Genshin Impact demonstrate that a live-service approach can sustain player communities, fund continued development and enable expansive post-launch content. Success in that space tends to hinge on transparent monetisation, predictable content updates, strong community engagement and a solid core gameplay loop released at or near launch.
The problem illustrated by Highguards reception is the speed with which a project can be judged on categorisation rather than on delivered quality. When marketing canals and reveal slots elevate expectation before a games fundamentals are visible, the project becomes vulnerable to reflexive dismissal. Conversely, when shortcomings become apparent at launch, the pre-existing hostility compounds reaction and reduces goodwill for iterative improvement.
Industry actors and audiences occupy different but connected roles in this dynamic. Developers and publishers carry responsibilities around clarity: clear monetisation models, realistic roadmaps and honest messaging about scope and ambition. Media coverage and player discussion, meanwhile, function as accountability mechanisms. Both are necessary to discourage exploitative practices.
Ultimately, the healthiest stance for the market lies between reflexive rejection and blind optimism. Live-service games merit rigorous scrutiny given the structural risks involved, but impartial assessment based on a game's actual launch state, subsequent update cadence and monetisation transparency will better distinguish genuinely problematic projects from those that simply arrived into a sceptical climate. Highguards launch serves as a reminder that legacy issues will continue to shape reception, and that clearer standards and communication are the most effective antidotes to knee-jerk dismissal.