What’s ruining games Devolver Digital won’t go public

The video game industry, once a beacon of creativity and endless possibility, is currently grappling with some serious structural issues. Many observers argue that much of the turbulence stems from a fundamental misalignment: studio executives prioritizing short-term shareholder gains over the long-term health of their companies and the people who make the games.

This tension is nowhere more acutely felt than in the publicly traded space. Take Devolver Digital, an indie giant that saw a massive surge when titles like Fall Guys brought significant cash flow to the table. Now, as the global gaming market experiences profound disruption and volatility—marked by widespread layoffs across platforms and publishers, and significant financial impairments—Devolver has made a bold move to seek stability.

Devolver is proposing to delist from the UK’s AIM market, seeking to go private. This decision isn’t just about avoiding market noise; it serves as a stark commentary on the inherent conflict between the demands of public shareholders and the complex realities of game development.

The reasoning behind this move speaks volumes about the industry’s underlying flaws. Devolver points out that the period since its public listing has been defined by severe volatility, forcing studios and publishers into painful restructuring. This environment highlights how quickly success can be overshadowed by external economic pressures, leading to real-world consequences like massive layoffs.

Furthermore, the core business model of game development clashes directly with the demands of the stock market. Game creation is inherently unpredictable; development timelines are often fluid, and financial performance doesn’t follow the predictable, linear progression that public markets demand from semi-annual reporting. As Devolver noted, it is difficult to ship massive hits every quarter, making it challenging for publicly traded entities to align their finances with strict growth expectations.

This mismatch creates fertile ground for what some call enshittification—the practice of squeezing value out of the same assets by sacrificing quality or displacing true long-term goals. When math no longer aligns with shareholder demands, corners tend to get cut. This pressure manifests in many ways, from rushing obviously unfinished games to implementing painful developer layoffs to meet arbitrary fiscal targets.

Devolver’s decision reflects a broader systemic problem. While some publicly traded game companies have achieved success, behind that veneer lies a graveyard of projects and companies that were ground down trying to hit unsustainable milestones. By opting for privacy, Devolver aims to free its executive team—especially the finance, legal, and creative staff—to focus singularly on the long-term health and value creation of the company, rather than satisfying transient market expectations.

Ultimately, this move is a powerful plea: the future stability of the games industry may require a shift away from models built around infinite growth in finite resource environments. The path forward, as suggested by the industry’s current chaos, points toward worker-owned studios and structures that prioritize long-term value over short-term market whims.