What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

-Langston Hughes, "Harlem"

The heads of GameSpot have finally given us something to chew on regarding Gerstmann-Gate.

The problem is that what they have provided is woefully insufficient given the controversy at hand.

Now, I understand completely how a company - any company - would like to put out a fire as quickly as possible. The problem with the release provided to us only adds fuel to the flames.

"Due to legal constraints and the company policy of GameSpot parent CNET Networks, details of Gerstmann's departure cannot be disclosed publicly. However, contrary to widespread and unproven reports, his exit was not a result of pressure from an advertiser.

"'Neither CNET Networks nor GameSpot has ever allowed its advertising business to affect its editorial content,' said Greg Brannan, CNET Networks Entertainment's vice president of programming. 'The accusations in the media that it has done so are unsubstantiated and untrue. Jeff's departure stemmed from internal reasons unrelated to any buyer of advertising on GameSpot.'"

Under many circumstances, that would be fair enough. Rare is the company that would go public with its decision-making processes, especially when the end result was someone's termination. Unfortunately, CNET/GameSpot's release leaves open a very large question. The paragraph before the ones quoted reads:

"'Jeff was a central figure in the creation and evolution of GameSpot, having written hundreds of previews and reviews, and anchoring much of our multimedia content,' said Ricardo Torres, editorial director of previews and events. 'The award-winning editorial team he leaves behind wish him nothing but good luck in his future endeavors.'"

Jeff had been on the GameSpot team for 11 years, was part of an award-winning team, and was widely appreciated by users. How does somebody of this status and caliber just get dropped? This isn't CNET firing some personal assistant who had been on the job two months and couldn't figure out how to use a coffee machine, this was a big deal.

Under these circumstances, normal procedure is to have some sort of tagline that's agreed upon by management and their victim, something like, "X said he achieved what he wanted to and felt like it was time to move on," or, "X cannot comment, citing the on-going police investigation." The line "[we] wish him luck" just doesn't cut it.

Furthermore, contrary to the subhead on the press release, the remaining GameSpot editors fail to address one very, very key element of this whole debacle. What happened to Jeff's video review?

If the internal decision was that Jeff's "tone" was beyond the image GameSpot wanted to project, then I can understand why the video would be taken down. But surely it goes beyond coincidence that its removal and Jeff's termination happened in one swoop; at least far enough beyond coincidence that it should be explained.

Do I believe that someone at Eidos picked up the phone and demanded that Jeff be fired, and CNET obeyed? No. Heck, I might go so far as to allow myself to believe that Eidos' financial contributions were beyond the internal logic which led to Jeff's firing.

But CNET has not sufficiently explained its conduct in this fiasco. Where is the video review? Why was it removed? And how does an employee of 11 years get dumped so quickly and traumatically that the users feel as betrayed as I'm sure Jeff does?

Does this stink like rotten meat? You bet.

Are you surprised that Jeff Gerstmann was sacked? Of all the emotions that surround this ever-widening controversy, surprise should be the last among them.

According to the Entertainment Software Association, in 2006 there were $7.4 billion in computer and video game sales in the United States; and Capcom's 2007 annual report tagged the total 2006 video game sales in the three largest world markets -- North America, Europe, and Japan -- at $18.1 billion, with all indicators pointing to much higher sales in the coming years. As we all know, the game development market is fiercely competitive, like the gamers they cater to, and one good game can launch a developer's career while one stinker can spell disaster.

For some reason that has never quite been explained to me, there are many out there who believe that sites like GameSpot exist to operate independently of the video game market, and as such they are obligated to provide objective opinions and reporting. Even though most gamers talk openly about the prevalence of the "7-9 scale," the Iron Triangle of the video game industry, an event like the one we are all witnessing seems to be shocking to many.

Pause for a moment and think about what GameSpot really is. GameSpot is the end result of a logistical wonder. TrafficEstimate.com says that, in the last 30 days, GameSpot has received over 17 million hits, which resulted in an untold amount of server activity by way of downloads, uploads, and streamed, live conent, an operation which sucked up more bandwidth than I care to imagine. On top of this, the emploees at GameSpot have bills to pay and families to feed, thus necessitating salaries for their efforts. The money for GameSpot's operations have to come from someone, and since they don't directly benefit from the sales of the products they feature, it makes sense to turn to the people who make some of the $18.1 billion in video game sales.

CNET Networks posted some $387.7 million in revenue in 2006, turning a profit of $7.9 million. Where does CNET's revenue come from? Advertising -- hands down. According to CNET's Earnings Statement, it generated $336.1 million in revenue from "Marketing Services" in 2006, or 86.7 percent of its overall revenue.

Put yourself in the shoes of a sales rep for a game development company like Eidos. Here you've provided thousands of dollars in advertisement revenue to CNET for your product, only to get a ho-hum review in return. Are you likely to want to sink more money into CNET for future advertisement campaigns?

Now put yourself in the shoes of a sales rep for a generic development company who has just watched Eidos' ad strategy fall flat, and weigh whether or not you would advise to your higher-ups to spend thousands of dollars on CNET, which apparently allows for some "renegades" in its structure.

Now put yourself in the shoes of CNET's management, which now has to calm the source of its bread and butter -- CNET only attributes 13.3 percent of its revenues as being generated from "Licenses, Fees, and User," and just how much of that is derived specifically from users is not outlined -- and by extension its employees' bread and butter. The answer, really, is simple: axe the renegade.

Once again, it is advertisers, not users, which make up the overwhelming bulk of CNET's income, and so upsetting us is not nearly as problematic as upsetting advertisers.

Think of GameSpot as a retail store, and Jeff a sales rep. You, as a customer, might appreciate him telling you the truth about the merchandise on the shelves, but when the suppliers complain to the store managers and threaten to withdraw their products, would you be shocked at Jeff's being fired?

Business is business, no matter what form it takes, and unfortunately for us there is very little recourse.

Boycotting Eidos only sinks Eidos. Canceling your GameSpot subscription does not affect GameSpot's bottom line. The only conceivable thing to do would be to deprive CNET of advertising income by dramatically reducing traffic to the site, but is it realistic to expect that all of the hundreds of thousands of people who visit and rely on GameSpot will flock en masse to one of its competitor sites, sites which most of us visit anyway? No.

CNET and its 2,000-odd employees are not working to give us information out of the goodness of their hearts -- it's not that they have ulterior motives, but they, rightfully, expect to be paid for their efforts. As such, it's less of an incentive to keep us happy as it is to keep their clients and stakeholders happy, which means folks like Jeff Gerstmann are expendable when they get out of line.

At best we can expect that the uproar over Jeff's firing will move GameSpot to permit its reviewers to operate under a "6.5-9 scale," but dramatic overtures towards objectivity should not be expected. 95 percent of CNET's top 100 U.S. advertisers renewed their contracts between June and September of this year, constituting 53 percent of CNET's revenues. The "7-9 scale" is good for business.

Game developers and publishers need sites like GameSpot to sell their games and make money, GameSpot needs advertisement revenue to continue to operate, and we gamers need games and information about those games to satisfy our hobby; as such, we, ultimately, have to submit to the relationship between game publishers and game sites like GameSpot, no matter how adversely that relationship might affect the system's employees.

But even though we might have to begrudgingly accept the "7-9 scale" as the cost of getting games, are we also right to demand that the information we receive be as objective as possible? Absolutely. As long as advertisement revenues are determined based on our contributions and traffic to the website, we can hold them to certain standards; but punishing them when they fall short is a problem for which I don't have an easy solution.

It is regrettable that Jeff had to fall victim to our industry's Iron Triangle, he was arguably my favorite GameSpot personality, but business is business.

What more is there to say?