What went wrong with the Playstation 4 launch?

What was revealed (and what wasn't) shows Sony desperately clinging to a business in disarray.

Sony introduced the PlayStation 4 yesterday, sort of.

Over the course of a two-hour event, the company demonstrated ten in-development games, including new instalments in the Killzone, Infamous and Final Fantasy franchises, a port of Diablo 3, and several all-new titles.

It also showed off the new controller for the console, an upgrade of the Dual Shock 3 featuring a touch pad in the centre and a new dedicated "share" button. Much of the non-game portion of the presentation was focused on some of those new social features: the share button will let you put videos and screenshots of games online, as well as stream live games. The latter is done in collaboration with Facebook and Ustream, and Sony are calling it "the first social network with streaming".

The company also showed off a few nifty features, like an instant suspend/resume function, and the ability to carry on playing games on the handheld PS Vita with a "remote play" option.

But what they didn't show was more notable. We still don't know how much the new console will cost, when exactly it will be released (though the plans are for the "holiday season"), or how much games will cost. We also don't know what the console will have internally, beyond an "x86 processor" (which covers nearly every home PC processor since 1978), 8GB of RAM and a "massive" hard-drive, and nothing at all about what the actual console looks like.

While launching a console without actually revealing the console is probably the most laughable element of the press conference, the more worrying aspect for Sony was the silence on many of its online functions. It is widely accepted that the Playstation 3 dropped the ball on online gaming in the last generation. Its free services were an attempt to compete with Microsoft's subscription Xbox Live offering on price, but they fell down in too many aspects. There was scant cross-title integration, voice chat remained infrequent, in-game online services were limited, and few improvements were made over the lifetime of the console.

Without hearing much about those features, it's not clear whether or not Sony has learned from its mistakes this time around. Similarly, the company didn't discuss multimedia features in any great depth. The one area the PS3 has definitively led the field on is its integration with streaming services and home media libraries, getting access to iPlayer over three years before the Xbox 360 did. Similarly, the console's integrated Blu-ray player and hard-drives made it far more useful as an all-round home-entertainment system. It remains to be seen if Sony can come up with comparable advantages this generation.

But there are deeper problems raised by the PS4 launch. The first is a refrain which is being heard increasingly frequently: an uncritical gaming press is getting embarrassing. Everyone wants videogame journalists to be enthusiasts, because there's little worse than reading someone who hates games pontificating on them. But that ought not translate into enthusiasm for everything: a bad console, or bad launch, should be noted as such.

Buzzfeed's Joe Bernstein had a look back at the launch of the Wii U, now generally thought to have been an incredibly underwhelming launch, and found similar problems to what has happened today. Notes of caution were few and far between, and Bernstein concludes:

I wish Wii U had more good games, and that the handheld peripheral wasn't so obviously a mistake. But this is an instinct that people who aspire to cover games honestly for a wide audience need to be incredibly aware of, and vigilant about either acknowledging or suppressing. Because this is exactly the reason that game journalists failed to see plainly what an insufficient product the Wii U was going to be for months after its release, and perhaps forever. Nintendo has earned an enormous reservoir of positive feelings from gamers (and game/tech journalists) who grew up on their wonderful products. People want Nintendo to succeed. It is telling that the people who were clear-eyed about the Wii U — investors and consumers — both had money on the line. Significant purchasing decisions have a way of turning beliefs into questions.

The broader problem is that the entire console model is under attack. Steady increases in the processing power of the consoles themselves are having diminishing returns when it comes to what the games can actually do. At the same time, with each boost in graphics quality, the cost of developing a big-budget title goes up, as does the number of sales needed to break even. The industry is torn between the gimmicky success of the Wii with mainstream markets and doubling down on the hobbyist sector, leading to strange contortions like the fact that the new PS4 controller has a touchpad and motion sensing.

While the top end is spiralling into a world of inflated budgets and shrinking returns, the bottom end is being eaten away by casual gaming, on smartphones and online. More and more developers, disillusioned by the world of AAA console development, are retreating to this market, where they can actually take control again. And it's not even casual gaming: Super Hexagon, which launched on the iPhone, is about as hardcore as it comes.

Sony's PS4 launch offers no answers as to how it intends to fight any of these trends, instead doubling down on more pixels, more sequels, more RAM and processing power and hard-drive space. The games that come out for it will undoubtedly be impressive; and many of them may even be fun. But the overall impression is of a company in denial, and a fanbase uneasily averting their eyes.

The DualShock 4 controller. Photograph: SCEA

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Labour's establishment suspects a Momentum conspiracy - they're right

Bernie Sanders-style organisers are determined to rewire the party's machine.  

If you wanted to understand the basic dynamics of this year’s Labour leadership contest, Brighton and Hove District Labour Party is a good microcosm. On Saturday 9 July, a day before Angela Eagle was to announce her leadership bid, hundreds of members flooded into its AGM. Despite the room having a capacity of over 250, the meeting had to be held in three batches, with members forming an orderly queue. The result of the massive turnout was clear in political terms – pro-Corbyn candidates won every position on the local executive committee. 

Many in the room hailed the turnout and the result. But others claimed that some in the crowd had engaged in abuse and harassment.The national party decided that, rather than first investigate individuals, it would suspend Brighton and Hove. Add this to the national ban on local meetings and events during the leadership election, and it is easy to see why Labour seems to have an uneasy relationship with mass politics. To put it a less neutral way, the party machine is in a state of open warfare against Corbyn and his supporters.

Brighton and Hove illustrates how local activists have continued to organise – in an even more innovative and effective way than before. On Thursday 21 July, the week following the CLP’s suspension, the local Momentum group organised a mass meeting. More than 200 people showed up, with the mood defiant and pumped up.  Rather than listen to speeches, the room then became a road test for a new "campaign meetup", a more modestly titled version of the "barnstorms" used by the Bernie Sanders campaign. Activists broke up into small groups to discuss the strategy of the campaign and then even smaller groups to organise action on a very local level. By the end of the night, 20 phonebanking sessions had been planned at a branch level over the following week. 

In the past, organising inside the Labour Party was seen as a slightly cloak and dagger affair. When the Labour Party bureaucracy expelled leftwing activists in past decades, many on went further underground, organising in semi-secrecy. Now, Momentum is doing the exact opposite. 

The emphasis of the Corbyn campaign is on making its strategy, volunteer hubs and events listings as open and accessible as possible. Interactive maps will allow local activists to advertise hundreds of events, and then contact people in their area. When they gather to phonebank in they will be using a custom-built web app which will enable tens of thousands of callers to ring hundreds of thousands of numbers, from wherever they are.

As Momentum has learned to its cost, there is a trade-off between a campaign’s openness and its ability to stage manage events. But in the new politics of the Labour party, in which both the numbers of interested people and the capacity to connect with them directly are increasing exponentially, there is simply no contest. In order to win the next general election, Labour will have to master these tactics on a much bigger scale. The leadership election is the road test. 

Even many moderates seem to accept that the days of simply triangulating towards the centre and getting cozy with the Murdoch press are over. Labour needs to reach people and communities directly with an ambitious digital strategy and an army of self-organising activists. It is this kind of mass politics that delivered a "no" vote in Greece’s referendum on the terms of the Eurozone bailout last summer – defying pretty much the whole of the media, business and political establishment. 

The problem for Corbyn's challenger, Owen Smith, is that many of his backers have an open problem with this type of mass politics. Rather than investigate allegations of abuse, they have supported the suspension of CLPs. Rather than seeing the heightened emotions that come with mass mobilisations as side-effects which needs to be controlled, they have sought to joins unconnected acts of harassment, in order to smear Jeremy Corbyn. The MP Ben Bradshaw has even seemed to accuse Momentum of organising a conspiracy to physically attack Labour MPs.

The real conspiracy is much bigger than that. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving, enthusiastic and determined, into the Labour party. These people, and their ability to convince the communities of which they are a part, threaten Britain’s political equilibrium, both the Conservatives and the Labour establishment. When the greatest hope for Labour becomes your greatest nightmare, you have good call to feel alarmed.