Video Games Weekly: It’s weird that esports is segregated by gender
The gaming news you need, August 27-September 11.
Liu YiCun/Riot Games
Welcome to Video Games Weekly on Engadget. Expect a new story every Monday or Tuesday (Or, I dunno, Thursday), broken into two parts. The first is a space for short essays and ramblings about video game trends and related topics from me, Jess Conditt, a reporter who’s covered the industry for more than 13 years. The second contains the video game stories from the past week that you need to know about, including some headlines from outside of Engadget.
Please enjoy — and I’ll see you next week.
Earlier this week, FlyQuest top laner Bwipo (Gabriël Rau) was suspended for one series of the League of Legends LTA playoffs after saying some wild stuff during a livestream about women and their ability to play esports. Here’s a sampling of what he said:
-
“I think there’s just not enough support for female pro players… women’s anatomy and their monthly cycles are just extremely different from males, and there’s no proper support system for women to go through what they’re going through.”
-
“Even men just tilt out of their fucking minds when they’re playing League of Legends. So, when a woman is on the wrong part of the month and playing competitively, there is a time of the month where you should not be fucking playing competitive games as a woman, in my opinion.”
OK, Bwipo. His comments received an appropriate amount of ridicule from fellow players, casters and fans, and FlyQuest benched him during a pivotal moment in the race to Worlds. He has apologized and pledged to “reflect, listen, and do better.”
So, here we are yet again. It’s 2025 and it must be stated: Men are not biologically better at video games than women. Women, femmes and nonbinary people are not physiologically less interested in or skilled at competitive gaming than a player who lives as a dude. Gender on its own has no bearing on how quickly a person can click a mouse, scan a screen or strategize in high-intensity situations, and lines of code react the same no matter how an individual player identifies.
That said, I find myself agreeing with Bwipo’s initial statement, “There’s just not enough support for female pro players.” I understand, in a backward kind of way, the logical leaps he then tried to make in order to explain a situation that doesn’t make any sense — namely, the absence of non-guy players in mainstream, professional esports. His conclusion may have been laughably misguided, but the core conundrum still stands.
The professional esports scene is segregated by gender and dominated by men. There are no hard and fast rules barring women or gender nonconforming people from competing at a professional level in any major league, but there are vanishingly few women, femmes or non-male-presenting players participating in mainstream esports tournaments, and this tends to be the baseline. There are separate leagues and competitions established specifically for women and gender nonconforming players, and while I find these events to be extremely exciting, they’re siloed and receive far less financial, marketing and back-end support than mainstream tournaments. Women’s esports leagues exist in a bubble that, for some strange reason, seems to be modeled on the gender segregation practices of traditional sports, with matching gaps in pay, respect and opportunity.
A handful of women players have broken through on the main stage over the years, including Potter (Christine Chi, CS:GO), Karma (Jaime Bickford, Rocket League), Hafu (Rumay Wang, WoW, Hearthstone) and Scarlett (Sasha Hostyn, StarCraft II). Still, the earnings gap between men and women in esports is cavernous: According to Esports Earnings, the top male player on record is N0tail (Johan Sundstein, Dota 2), with $7,184,163 in prize money to his name. The top female player on that list is Scarlett, with $472,111 in total earnings. There are 619 male players ahead of her, and the totals don’t factor in the lucrative sponsorship deals available to elite gamers.
I have to say it again. Esports, an industry built around people playing video games really well, is segregated by gender. Isn’t that insane?
The natural question is, why? It’s not because only men are good at video games, since we’ve established that’s a steaming pile of horseshit. Nor is it because, as Bwipo suggested, some women menstruate. But the actual reason is just as clear.
It’s sexism. The gender makeup of the mainstream esports scene is the result of everyday, bog standard, garden variety, run of the mill misogyny. In the world of esports, it’s sponsored by Red Bull, drenched in LEDs and proudly hosted by your favorite streamer. At our current stage, when a veteran LoL player is openly trying to bring back the hysteria diagnosis rather than looking at the realities of a system that provides him privilege, I think we have to say it plainly. Put the pivotal issue on the table so we can look at how ugly, regressive and nasty it is. Only then can we start to change it.
There is a dearth of women, femmes and nonbinary people in mainstream esports because of the sexism that permeates society at large.
I understand why someone like Bwipo — or other players, coaches, presenters, managers, team owners, league organizers or game makers at the highest levels of esports — wouldn’t want to acknowledge this fact or how much power it holds over the entire scene. I get that some would rather twist themselves into knots trying to blame women for their own exclusion, instead of tackling an uncomfortable social issue that runs far deeper than just the gaming industry. I understand it, but I think it’s cowardly. Ostrich behavior.
So, let’s look at it. If misogyny in esports is the problem, I think a solution has to lie in the talent pipeline. During the scouting stages, when school-age players of all genders are streaming and climbing ranks from their bedrooms, boys naturally receive things from the community that girls don’t, like enthusiastic support, a welcoming attitude, respect, and, eventually, enough belief in their skills to risk investment. I’m not suggesting toxicity isn’t a thing for everyone, but these positive aspects are also built into the experience for many young men playing games. Young women have to earn these responses, generally by overperforming compared to their peers, and while being belittled, sexualized, threatened with violence, hyperanalyzed and othered, for years on end. It’s exhausting. It silently pushes some women out of video games and esports.
It’s also malleable. Sexism spawns from an embarrassing and irrational way of thinking, but people change their minds all the time. A simple but widespread shift in perception — oh right, it’s weird that esports is segregated by gender — can make an enormous impact especially on these early stages of esports play. How we think alters how we behave, how we speak and what we allow in social spaces. It really can be that simple, at least as a starting point.
I think about this each time I turn on a pro match, which is currently every day with LoL Worlds qualification tournaments in full swing (hi, FlyQuest). The esports gender disparity is face-smackingly obvious, especially in concert with the godlike presentation that existing players tend to receive: hype trailers with uber-masculine motifs, walk-out rituals, emotional behind-the-scenes documentaries and epic promotional spots depicting teams as otherwordly superheroes. Of course, most esports players are literal teenagers, which tends to make these macho presentations more adorable than anything — but the fact remains that male esports pros, even teenage ones, are taken extremely seriously as athletes (athletes!) and can find support for their goals at every level. I’d love to see this encouragement, faith and excitement extended to young women and nonbinary players as well.
The mental shift is the first step. As demonstrated by Bwipo’s offhand comments, it seems plenty of people in the esports scene are still in the early stages of critical thinking when it comes to gender and opportunity, so we’re starting with the basics. Remind yourself that men are not inherently skilled at playing video games and women aren’t naturally bad, and think about how ridiculous those suggestions sound in the first place. Remember that sexism is an artificial barrier limiting opportunities for everyone in esports. Next time you see an ad with a bunch of dude esports players surrounded by ladies in cosplay, take a second to notice how odd that is. Hear how many times the casters say “gentlemen,” “sir,” “boys” and other gendered terms during games, and recognize how daunting this space is for players who don’t fit those descriptions. Get comfortable with the idea that some humans can play video games really, really, really well, and this fact is completely divorced from how they look or identify. It’s easy to do because it’s true
Have a tip for Jessica? You can reach her by email, Bluesky or send a message to @jesscon.96 to chat confidentially on Signal.
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Welcome to Video Games Weekly on Engadget. Expect a new story every Monday or Tuesday (Or, I dunno, Thursday), broken into two parts. The first is a space for short essays and ramblings about video game trends and related topics from me, Jess Conditt, a reporter who’s covered the industry for more than 13 years. The second contains the video game stories from the past week that you need to know about, including some headlines from outside of Engadget.
Please enjoy — and I’ll see you next week.
Earlier this week, FlyQuest top laner Bwipo (Gabriël Rau) was suspended for one series of the League of Legends LTA playoffs after saying some wild stuff during a livestream about women and their ability to play esports. Here’s a sampling of what he said:
-
“I think there’s just not enough support for female pro players… women’s anatomy and their monthly cycles are just extremely different from males, and there’s no proper support system for women to go through what they’re going through.”
-
“Even men just tilt out of their fucking minds when they’re playing League of Legends. So, when a woman is on the wrong part of the month and playing competitively, there is a time of the month where you should not be fucking playing competitive games as a woman, in my opinion.”
OK, Bwipo. His comments received an appropriate amount of ridicule from fellow players, casters and fans, and FlyQuest benched him during a pivotal moment in the race to Worlds. He has apologized and pledged to “reflect, listen, and do better.”
So, here we are yet again. It’s 2025 and it must be stated: Men are not biologically better at video games than women. Women, femmes and nonbinary people are not physiologically less interested in or skilled at competitive gaming than a player who lives as a dude. Gender on its own has no bearing on how quickly a person can click a mouse, scan a screen or strategize in high-intensity situations, and lines of code react the same no matter how an individual player identifies.
That said, I find myself agreeing with Bwipo’s initial statement, “There’s just not enough support for female pro players.” I understand, in a backward kind of way, the logical leaps he then tried to make in order to explain a situation that doesn’t make any sense — namely, the absence of non-guy players in mainstream, professional esports. His conclusion may have been laughably misguided, but the core conundrum still stands.
The professional esports scene is segregated by gender and dominated by men. There are no hard and fast rules barring women or gender nonconforming people from competing at a professional level in any major league, but there are vanishingly few women, femmes or non-male-presenting players participating in mainstream esports tournaments, and this tends to be the baseline. There are separate leagues and competitions established specifically for women and gender nonconforming players, and while I find these events to be extremely exciting, they’re siloed and receive far less financial, marketing and back-end support than mainstream tournaments. Women’s esports leagues exist in a bubble that, for some strange reason, seems to be modeled on the gender segregation practices of traditional sports, with matching gaps in pay, respect and opportunity.
A handful of women players have broken through on the main stage over the years, including Potter (Christine Chi, CS:GO), Karma (Jaime Bickford, Rocket League), Hafu (Rumay Wang, WoW, Hearthstone) and Scarlett (Sasha Hostyn, StarCraft II). Still, the earnings gap between men and women in esports is cavernous: According to Esports Earnings, the top male player on record is N0tail (Johan Sundstein, Dota 2), with $ 7,184,163 in prize money to his name. The top female player on that list is Scarlett, with $ 472,111 in total earnings. There are 619 male players ahead of her, and the totals don’t factor in the lucrative sponsorship deals available to elite gamers.
I have to say it again. Esports, an industry built around people playing video games really well, is segregated by gender. Isn’t that insane?
The natural question is, why? It’s not because only men are good at video games, since we’ve established that’s a steaming pile of horseshit. Nor is it because, as Bwipo suggested, some women menstruate. But the actual reason is just as clear.
It’s sexism. The gender makeup of the mainstream esports scene is the result of everyday, bog standard, garden variety, run of the mill misogyny. In the world of esports, it’s sponsored by Red Bull, drenched in LEDs and proudly hosted by your favorite streamer. At our current stage, when a veteran LoL player is openly trying to bring back the hysteria diagnosis rather than looking at the realities of a system that provides him privilege, I think we have to say it plainly. Put the pivotal issue on the table so we can look at how ugly, regressive and nasty it is. Only then can we start to change it.
There is a dearth of women, femmes and nonbinary people in mainstream esports because of the sexism that permeates society at large.
I understand why someone like Bwipo — or other players, coaches, presenters, managers, team owners, league organizers or game makers at the highest levels of esports — wouldn’t want to acknowledge this fact or how much power it holds over the entire scene. I get that some would rather twist themselves into knots trying to blame women for their own exclusion, instead of tackling an uncomfortable social issue that runs far deeper than just the gaming industry. I understand it, but I think it’s cowardly. Ostrich behavior.
So, let’s look at it. If misogyny in esports is the problem, I think a solution has to lie in the talent pipeline. During the scouting stages, when school-age players of all genders are streaming and climbing ranks from their bedrooms, boys naturally receive things from the community that girls don’t, like enthusiastic support, a welcoming attitude, respect, and, eventually, enough belief in their skills to risk investment. I’m not suggesting toxicity isn’t a thing for everyone, but these positive aspects are also built into the experience for many young men playing games. Young women have to earn these responses, generally by overperforming compared to their peers, and while being belittled, sexualized, threatened with violence, hyperanalyzed and othered, for years on end. It’s exhausting. It silently pushes some women out of video games and esports.
It’s also malleable. Sexism spawns from an embarrassing and irrational way of thinking, but people change their minds all the time. A simple but widespread shift in perception — oh right, it’s weird that esports is segregated by gender — can make an enormous impact especially on these early stages of esports play. How we think alters how we behave, how we speak and what we allow in social spaces. It really can be that simple, at least as a starting point.
I think about this each time I turn on a pro match, which is currently every day with LoL Worlds qualification tournaments in full swing (hi, FlyQuest). The esports gender disparity is face-smackingly obvious, especially in concert with the godlike presentation that existing players tend to receive: hype trailers with uber-masculine motifs, walk-out rituals, emotional behind-the-scenes documentaries and epic promotional spots depicting teams as otherwordly superheroes. Of course, most esports players are literal teenagers, which tends to make these macho presentations more adorable than anything — but the fact remains that male esports pros, even teenage ones, are taken extremely seriously as athletes (athletes!) and can find support for their goals at every level. I’d love to see this encouragement, faith and excitement extended to young women and nonbinary players as well.
The mental shift is the first step. As demonstrated by Bwipo’s offhand comments, it seems plenty of people in the esports scene are still in the early stages of critical thinking when it comes to gender and opportunity, so we’re starting with the basics. Remind yourself that men are not inherently skilled at playing video games and women aren’t naturally bad, and think about how ridiculous those suggestions sound in the first place. Remember that sexism is an artificial barrier limiting opportunities for everyone in esports. Next time you see an ad with a bunch of dude esports players surrounded by ladies in cosplay, take a second to notice how odd that is. Hear how many times the casters say “gentlemen,” “sir,” “boys” and other gendered terms during games, and recognize how daunting this space is for players who don’t fit those descriptions. Get comfortable with the idea that some humans can play video games really, really, really well, and this fact is completely divorced from how they look or identify. It’s easy to do because it’s true.
I swear, if the release trailer for Ghost Story Games’ Judas doesn’t include the Lady Gaga song, I will riot by myself.
Following all of that weird BioShock news out of 2K, Ken Levine decided to remind everyone that his game Judas is still in development and even has key art. His post on the PlayStation Blog outlines some of the relationship mechanics in Judas, relating them partly to the Nemesis system from Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, which has me all kinds of excited. And, yeah, the new picture looks cool, too.
The Silksong corner
The day of its release, Hollow Knight: Silksong singlehandedly crashed multiple game storefronts including Steam, the Nintendo eShop and the Xbox Store. The marketplaces recovered, but players haven’t — the bulk of the post-launch discourse has focused on whether the game is too hard, a suggestion that I find baffling as someone who does not enjoy punishing metroidvanias like Silksong. With this brand of game, I was under the impression that if it’s beatable, it’s not too hard. It’s mechanically precise, tricky, twitchy and super-duper challenging — isn’t that exactly what you masochists want?
Then again, Team Cherry’s first update for the game includes a “slight difficulty reduction in early game bosses” including Moorwing and Sister Splinter, so what do I know
Have a tip for Jessica? You can reach her by email, Bluesky or send a message to @jesscon.96 to chat confidentially on Signal.
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