In 2011, I walked into a bar fight that had been raging for twenty years, except everybody was now yelling about something that happened when they were 12 years old. I had missed all of this the first time around — I was working construction and raising a child — but now I am 41 years old and trying to decide which 16-bit system I want to purchase first, and everybody has an opinion about blast processing.
My daughter is basically responsible for this whole mess. She had been collecting vintage video games in college, and came home one weekend with both a SNES and a Genesis, and set them up in my living room like she was running a science lab. “Dad, you gotta experience the console war,” she tells me as she hands me a controller as if it was a historical artifact. I suppose it is.
I wasn’t nostalgic either; I don’t remember any playground debates or magazine ads. All I saw were two plastic enclosures that looked pretty much alike to my untrained eye, each promising to show me what I had missed during the height of the 16-bit era. So, I figured I would play a few games on each, pick a favorite and be done with it. Easy peasy, right?
By the time three months passed I had purchased both consoles plus approximately 40 games between them, and I was in heated discussions on retro gaming forums about sprite scaling techniques. My co-workers thought I was nuts. Maybe I was.
One of the biggest advantages of approaching the SNES/Genesis debate as an adult is that you can pay attention to what really matters — the games — and not let yourself get caught up in the marketing nonsense that led kids to believe one console was better than the other. Blast processing? Total BS. Mode 7? Nice name for a fancy graphics trick. What really mattered was which console had games that I wanted to play, and in the end, it was both.
First off, I played Super Mario World on the SNES because everyone said it was required. Reasonable enough — nice game, excellent level design, turtle-riding mechanic was pretty cool. Then I played Sonic the Hedgehog on Genesis, because that seemed like the logical counterpoint. Entirely different experience. Mario felt like careful platforming, thinking through every jump. Sonic felt like controlled chaos, building momentum and hoping for the best.
They weren’t necessarily better or worse experiences; just different. However, the online flame wars about which was “better” were completely insane. Adults yelling at each other about which represented better game design philosophy. I am reading this and thinking, “These are simply different kinds of fun. Why does one have to be objectively better?”
It wasn’t until I started playing more games on each console that the technical differences really became apparent. Generally speaking, the SNES games looked nicer, with that clean Nintendo look. The Genesis games had a grittier look, almost like the difference between a studio recorded album and a live rock concert. Either way, neither was inherently superior; they just approached the same hardware limitations in a different manner.
Sound was where the divide really hurt. The SNES had these lush, orchestral style soundtracks that made the games feel epic. The Genesis had that harsh electronic sound that worked perfectly for some genres, but could be grating in others. Played Ecco the Dolphin on Genesis and thought the ocean sounds were haunting. Played Super Metroid on SNES and the atmospheric soundtrack gave me actual chills.
Begun purchasing games for both systems, which my daughter found hysterical. “Most people take a side, Dad,” she told me. But I had no preconceived notions to defend. If a game sounded interesting and had good reviews, I would buy it regardless of which console it was on. A practical approach that probably saved me from a tremendous amount of brand loyalty that would have been pointless.
The exclusives were what really blew my budget wide open. I wanted to play Chrono Trigger? Only available on SNES. Wanted to play Phantasy Star IV? Only available on Genesis. Streets of Rage 2 or Final Fantasy VI — I couldn’t have experienced both on just one console. Honestly, I think Sega and Nintendo had this in the works. Get people to commit to one ecosystem, then lock the good games to that ecosystem.
The fighting games showed the differences quite nicely. Street Fighter II on SNES had better graphics and sound, but the Genesis six-button controller was obviously designed for fighting games while the SNES controller felt clumsy for anything that required complicated button combinations. Ended up spending way too much money on different controllers trying to optimize the experience on both systems.
Prices for retro games currently are totally insane relative to what these things cost new in ’94. Some SNES games are selling for more than they were when they were brand-new in ’94, which seems odd considering they are twenty-five year old technology. Genesis games are generally cheaper, which makes sense since Sega lost the overall marketplace battle, but the rare ones still cost an arm and a leg.
Had some conversations with other collectors who had lived through the original console war, and their perspectives were fascinating. Guys my age who had taken sides as kids and stayed loyal to them for decades, and were just starting to branch out to try the “other” console as adults. Almost all of them admitted that the rivalry had been blown way out of proportion, and that both consoles had plenty of great games, but you could tell that the residual effects of that childhood brand loyalty were still affecting their views.
The magazine coverage from back in the day is laugh-out-loud funny to read now. GamePro and Electronic Gaming Monthly treated every new release as if it was a battle in a continuing war, including comparison charts and technical breakdowns that probably flew right past most kids’ heads. I bet both of the marketing departments at Sega and Nintendo loved watching gaming journalists do their promotional work for free.
But the fact that the competition forced both companies to step their game up for players was the biggest benefit of the rivalry. Because of Sega’s presence, Nintendo was forced to improve its games, and because of Nintendo’s massive market lead, Sega was forced to innovate. Neither company could sit on its laurels, so we got better games across the board.
Both systems also had their own respective technical flaws that fanboys blissfully ignored. Yes, SNES slowdown existed — too many sprites on-screen, and suddenly everything is slow motion. And yes, the Genesis had that awful sound chip that made some games literally painful to listen to. It wasn’t treasonous to acknowledge these flaws, just honest.
The peripheral wars were probably the most absurd of all. Light guns, motion controllers, additional peripherals that doubled the cost of your console for only a handful of games. Purchased a Super Scope at a retro gaming convention, used it once and then realized why light gun games are dead. That thing weighs like ten pounds and needs more batteries than a smoke detector.
International regional differences added yet another layer of complexity that I didn’t expect. Some Genesis games were only released in Japan or Europe, different versions of the same game on different systems, licensing issues that prevented certain titles from being available in specific regions. Collecting became this research project into international game distribution, which was more interesting than I thought it would be.
The modding communities surrounding both systems are amazing. People creating new games for twenty-five-year-old hardware, and pushing these systems to do things that the original developers thought were impossible. Downloaded some ROM hacks that genuinely improved upon classic games, which seemed like it should be impossible, but somehow worked.
Emulation versus original hardware became another debate that I got pulled into. Purists claiming that you can’t truly experience these games without using original controllers and CRT TVs, pragmatists claiming that emulation is good enough, and much easier. Tried both methods — and there are some minor differences, but honestly, most people probably wouldn’t even notice.
My daughter was thrilled that she had infected me with her retro gaming enthusiasm, although she was less thrilled when I began out-spending her on rare games. “This was supposed to be my thing,” she complained after I won an eBay auction for a complete-in-box copy of Chrono Trigger. However, she had opened Pandora’s Box when she introduced me to this stuff.
The social aspects of retro gaming communities reminded me of why the console war was so intense to begin with. People define a part of their identity around these childhood experiences, and questioning somebody’s favorite console is equivalent to questioning their memory or their judgment. Learned to be diplomatic in the forum discussions, complimenting both systems, and quietly suggesting that perhaps the rivalry had been blown way out of proportion.
When I realized that there was a cost-benefit analysis to collecting for both systems, I began to realize that some games were genuinely worth owning, while others were expensive only because they were rare, not because they were good. Learning to differentiate between legitimate classics and nostalgia bait that was ridiculously priced, likely saved me tens of thousands of dollars.
The space needed to store the collection for both systems took over a large portion of my home. Game cartridges, controllers, cables, instructions, and boxes if I was lucky enough to find them complete. Friends already thought the retro gaming thing was bizarre, but when I converted an entire closet into game storage, they began to joke about intervention.
Playing these games without the attachment of childhood allowed me to view the unique qualities of what made each console special. SNES excelled at atmosphere-based, story-driven games with incredible graphics. Genesis was better suited for fast-paced action games and had a library of games that felt more experimental, and willing to attempt strange ideas. Both approaches were valid.
The mentality of the console war seems quaint now that everything is heading towards digital distribution, and cross-platform play. Children today will never know the tribalism of being committed to one ecosystem, and unable to play certain games because they purchased the wrong plastic container. Good riddance, probably, but something has been lost when brand loyalty becomes irrelevant.
After twelve years of collecting for both systems, I’m glad I didn’t commit to one side. I was able to experience the best of both worlds, without the artificial restrictions of brand loyalty, and appreciate the technical and artistic differences without getting caught up in fanboy arguments. Sometimes being late to the party means you can enjoy the whole party instead of just sticking up for your corner of the room.
Joe’s a history teacher who treats the console wars like actual history. A lifelong Sega devotee from Phoenix, he writes with passion, humor, and lingering heartbreak over the Dreamcast. Expect strong opinions, bad puns, and plenty of “blast processing.”
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