In the realm of digital game preservation, few companies have taken on the mantle as aggressively as GOG, the DRM-free platform owned by CD Projekt. Recently, revelations from within the company highlight the extraordinary lengths required to revive classic titles, underscoring a broader crisis in maintaining video game history amid technological decay and legal complexities. Marcin Paczynski, GOG’s senior business development manager, shared in an interview that the task has proven far more arduous than anticipated, with obstacles extending beyond mere code compatibility to the very foundations of ownership rights.

Paczynski’s insights reveal a multifaceted battle against obsolescence. Games from decades past often fail to launch on modern systems, but the issues run deeper: lack of support for contemporary controllers, ultra-widescreen displays, or even basic functions like minimizing windows. These “subtle” deteriorations, as he described them, demand extensive rework to meet today’s standards, transforming preservation into a labor-intensive engineering feat.

The Hunt for Hidden Heirs

To address these technical hurdles, GOG has invested in updating old codebases, but the real drama unfolds in the pursuit of intellectual property rights. Securing permissions for abandoned games frequently involves detective work that rivals thriller novels. In one striking case, the company enlisted private investigators to locate a rights holder living entirely off the grid in the UK, who had inherited control over several titles without realizing it. Upon being found, he enthusiastically supported GOG’s efforts to preserve his family’s legacy, according to details reported in TheGamer.

This anecdote is no outlier. GOG’s team has tracked down former developers turned oil magnates in Texas and navigated convoluted corporate histories where rights have fragmented across defunct studios and forgotten estates. Such pursuits illustrate the precarious state of IP in gaming, where lapsed trademarks and unrenewed copyrights can leave classics in limbo, vulnerable to legal oblivion or unauthorized exploitation.

Broader Industry Echoes

Echoing these challenges, coverage from Kotaku emphasizes that GOG’s preservation program, while ambitious, encounters unforeseen roadblocks like DRM entanglements that complicate updates. The platform’s commitment to DRM-free releases adds another layer, as it must balance authenticity with playability, often requiring negotiations that span continents and decades.

Similarly, Rock Paper Shotgun notes discussions with GOG executives like Maciej Gołębiewski, who highlight how elusive creators and outdated licensing agreements exacerbate the process. These efforts come at a time when the gaming industry grapples with cultural heritage loss—estimates suggest thousands of titles risk vanishing due to hardware incompatibility and rights disputes.

Implications for Digital Heritage

For industry insiders, GOG’s experiences signal a call to action. Preservation isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s an economic opportunity, as retro gaming markets boom with remasters and re-releases. Yet, without systemic reforms—like clearer IP tracking or international databases—these detective escapades may become the norm, draining resources from innovation.

Ultimately, GOG’s dogged pursuit, including hiring sleuths for off-grid heirs, underscores a vital truth: saving games demands not only technical prowess but also a willingness to unearth buried histories. As Paczynski put it, the deterioration has accelerated faster than expected, pushing platforms like GOG to redefine what it means to keep the past playable in an ever-evolving digital world.