The Slow Death of a Gaming Institution
Video game instruction manuals—those pulpy, plastic-scented booklets that once accompanied every physical game purchase—have become relics of gaming’s early decades. Walk into any modern game store, purchase a $70 title, and you’ll find nothing but a disc or cartridge in an increasingly minimalist case. No lore, no artwork, no developer notes welcoming you to their world. The manual’s disappearance happened gradually throughout the 2000s and early 2010s, shrinking from 100+ page tomes to pamphlets with safety warnings in multiple languages before vanishing entirely by the mid-2010s.
Yet in 2025, a movement is gaining momentum among indie developers, collectors, and nostalgic gamers who argue that physical manuals deserve revival. This isn’t purely nostalgia—though that plays a role—but rather recognition that game manuals served functions that modern tutorials and digital guides simply cannot replicate. From building anticipation during the car ride home to preserving gaming history in tangible form, manuals offered value that transcends their practical instructional purpose.
What We Lost When Manuals Disappeared
Game manuals weren’t just instruction sheets—they were love letters from developers to players. Opening a new game revealed artwork that wouldn’t appear in-game, character biographies providing backstory and personality, world-building lore establishing the setting before pressing start, bestiary entries describing enemies and tactics, blank note pages for passwords and strategies, and sometimes easter eggs like hidden messages or developer commentary. The best manuals felt like artifacts from the game’s universe itself, immersive documents that extended the experience beyond the screen.
The ritual of reading manuals during the journey home became sacred for many gamers. Children who couldn’t play immediately would devour every page, memorizing enemy weaknesses and imagining adventures to come. This anticipation-building served psychological functions—delaying gratification heightened excitement, studying mechanics prepared players mentally, and engaging with the world intellectually before experiencing it created deeper investment. Modern instant-gratification gaming lacks this contemplative prelude.
| What Manuals Provided | Modern Replacement | What’s Lost |
|---|---|---|
| Pre-game lore and world-building | In-game codex/journal | Anticipation building, physical artifact |
| Character biographies | Cutscenes, dialogue | Immediate reference, developer voice |
| Control schemes | In-game tutorials | Quick reference without loading game |
| Developer commentary | Rare in modern games | Connection to creators, design insight |
| Original artwork | Art books (expensive extras) | Accessible visual content |
| Physical keepsake | Nothing | Tangible gaming history |
The Economic Reality Behind Manual Death
Publishers didn’t eliminate manuals out of malice but economics. Printing costs money—paper, ink, binding, shipping weight all add up when producing millions of units. A substantial manual might cost $0.50-$1.50 per copy to print, translating to hundreds of thousands of dollars for major releases. As games moved toward digital distribution and patches became standard, the static nature of printed manuals became a liability. Any control scheme change or balance update rendered physical instructions obsolete.
The shift toward digital purchases accelerated manual death. Steam, PlayStation Store, Xbox Marketplace, and Nintendo eShop sell games with zero physical component. Even physical releases increasingly use tiny cardboard inserts or nothing at all, with publishers directing buyers to digital manuals on websites or as PDF files on game discs. These digital manuals lack the tactile satisfaction and accessibility of physical booklets—you need a device, internet connection, and willingness to navigate menus rather than just flipping open a booklet.
Modern Tutorials Made Manuals Obsolete (Sort Of)
The strongest argument against manual revival is that modern game design simply doesn’t need them. Contemporary titles teach mechanics through doing rather than reading—Portal 2’s opening teaches movement and portals seamlessly without breaking immersion, The Last of Us Part II introduces combat gradually through contextual prompts, Elden Ring trusts players to discover mechanics organically. These interactive tutorials surpass static text in effectiveness because players learn kinesthetically rather than intellectually.
In-game menus provide comprehensive references that manuals never could. Pause screens display control schemes, character stat explanations, quest logs, bestiaries updated as you encounter enemies, and skill trees with detailed ability descriptions. These dynamic systems update with patches, adapt to player customization, and remain accessible without leaving the game. Why would anyone want a static printed manual when the game itself provides superior information?
Yet this argument misses what manuals offered beyond instruction. Nobody reads modern tutorials for enjoyment during lunch breaks at school or work. In-game codex entries don’t sit on shelves as physical evidence of gaming history. Digital manuals don’t accompany you on road trips when you can’t bring the console. The instruction was only one function—manuals served cultural, anticipatory, and collectible purposes that in-game systems cannot replicate.
The Indie Revival Movement
Interestingly, physical manuals are experiencing grassroots revival through indie developers who recognize their value. Shovel Knight’s retail release included a gorgeous retro-style manual complete with enemy descriptions and pixel art. Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night offered premium editions with cloth-bound instruction booklets. Celeste’s physical release featured a manual explaining not just controls but the game’s themes and developer intentions. These indies understand that presentation matters, that physical artifacts create emotional connections digital downloads cannot.
Publisher Devolver Digital made headlines by announcing they’re bringing back game manuals as standard inclusions, starting with Pepper Grinder. The manual was designed and written by gaming journalist Andy Kelly, demonstrating that creating quality documentation requires professional effort but isn’t prohibitively expensive for smaller releases. This indie-led revival suggests that manual death wasn’t inevitable consumer rejection but rather AAA cost-cutting that left a market gap smaller developers can fill.
Digital Games With Manual Easter Eggs
Some digital-only games incorporate manuals as gameplay mechanics, demonstrating creative approaches to preserving the format. Tunic features an in-game manual that players gradually complete by exploring, with pages revealing hints, maps, and lore. The manual isn’t just reference material but an integral puzzle element—finding manual pages drives exploration and discovering their secrets is core gameplay. Players can even tilt the right analog stick while reading to reveal a low-fidelity CRT TV showing the game behind the manual, a nostalgic touch recreating the experience of reading physical manuals.
The Banished Vault, a 2023 indie space exploration roguelike, took the unprecedented step of offering a physical manual for a digital-only game. Players can purchase the printed booklet separately, creating a hybrid experience where you play on PC but reference a physical guide. This demonstrates that even in fully digital gaming contexts, some players value tangible documentation enough to pay extra for it.
The Collector’s Market Proves Demand Exists
The secondary market for vintage game manuals demonstrates ongoing value. Complete-in-box retro games command significantly higher prices than loose cartridges, with the manual often accounting for 20-40% of total value. Mint-condition manuals for sought-after titles can sell for hundreds of dollars individually. This isn’t just about gameplay—collectors value manuals as historical artifacts, design documents, and pieces of gaming culture worth preserving.
Special editions and collector’s packages increasingly include physical manuals or art books as premium features. When fans are willing to pay $150-$200 for collector’s editions partially because they include physical documentation, it suggests that standard editions excluding manuals represent missed opportunities. Publishers could offer tiered pricing—$60 digital, $70 standard physical, $80 physical with manual—allowing consumers to vote with wallets about whether they value printed materials.
Environmental Concerns Cut Both Ways
Manual defenders must acknowledge environmental arguments. Printing millions of booklets consumes paper, ink, and energy. Shipping weight increases fuel consumption. If most manuals get skimmed once then stored or discarded, that’s substantial waste for minimal utility. Digital distribution eliminates these environmental costs entirely—no physical production, no shipping, no disposal.
However, digital gaming has its own environmental footprint. Server farms storing game files and streaming data consume enormous electricity. Hardware obsolescence means consoles and drives become e-waste every generation. Download bandwidth requirements strain infrastructure. The environmental comparison isn’t as one-sided as digital proponents suggest. A thoughtfully designed manual using recycled paper might have lower lifetime environmental impact than maintaining perpetual digital storage and re-downloading games when storage fills up.
The Accessibility Argument
Physical manuals offered accessibility advantages modern systems sometimes lack. Players without reliable internet could reference controls and mechanics offline. Those with visual processing differences might prefer reading static text to parsing flashing on-screen prompts during gameplay. Younger players or those unfamiliar with gaming conventions could study manuals to prepare before playing, reducing frustration from trial-and-error learning.
Conversely, digital systems enable accessibility features impossible with printed materials—text-to-speech for visually impaired players, translation into languages beyond what fit in printed booklets, font size adjustment for readability, video tutorials showing mechanics in action. The accessibility debate doesn’t clearly favor either format; both offer advantages for different users.
What a Modern Manual Revival Could Look Like
A realistic manual revival wouldn’t mean returning to 200-page tomes for every title. Instead, developers could offer:
**Slim Standard Manuals:** 12-20 pages covering basic controls, world introduction, key characters. Cost-effective to print, provides essentials.
**Digital-Physical Hybrid:** QR codes in slim manuals linking to comprehensive digital guides. Best of both worlds—quick reference plus depth.
**Premium Art Booklets:** For games with strong artistic identity, replace instructional focus with lore, concept art, developer commentary. Collector value over utility.
**Optional Add-Ons:** Sell manuals separately for $5-10 so interested players can purchase while others skip. Let market demand determine viability.
**Kickstarter Incentives:** For crowdfunded games, offer physical manuals as backer rewards. Fans funding development often appreciate tangible artifacts.
**Print-on-Demand Services:** Partner with services like Lulu so players can order professionally printed manuals without publishers maintaining inventory.
These approaches acknowledge that universal physical manuals are economically unrealistic while creating opportunities for interested consumers to access them. The key is giving players choice rather than eliminating options entirely.
The Counterargument: They Deserved to Die
Not everyone mourns manual death. Screen Rant published an article titled “Video Game Instruction Manuals Deserved To Die,” arguing that manuals represented gaming’s limitations rather than strengths. Early games lacked graphical and design sophistication to teach mechanics organically—Atari 2600’s abstract visuals necessitated manuals explaining what blocks represented. As game design matured, the need for external documentation disappeared.
Requiring players to reference paper while playing broke immersion and created frustration. Seamless in-game tutorials feel like natural progression rather than interrupting gameplay to read instructions. Manuals also couldn’t account for player experimentation—games like Breath of the Wild reward creative problem-solving that no manual could predict or document. The best modern games teach through play, making printed instructions obsolete regardless of nostalgia.
Preservation and Gaming History
Beyond player experience, manuals serve archival functions for gaming historians and researchers. Physical documentation provides insights into developer intentions, design evolution, and how games were marketed to contemporary audiences. Manuals reveal what developers considered important to communicate, what information they expected players to need, and how they conceptualized their game’s world.
When manuals disappear, this historical record evaporates. Digital manuals on company servers can vanish when domains expire or servers shut down. Archived PDFs lack the tactile history of printed materials—paper quality, printing techniques, and design choices all provide temporal context. Libraries and museums collecting gaming history find physical manuals invaluable for understanding gaming’s evolution beyond just software preservation.
The Current State of Manual Culture
As of 2025, manuals occupy an interesting liminal space. AAA publishers have almost entirely abandoned them—Call of Duty, Assassin’s Creed, FIFA, and other blockbusters include nothing but promotional inserts. Nintendo occasionally includes brief controller diagrams for first-party titles but nothing resembling classic manuals. PlayStation and Xbox cases are barren.
Meanwhile, smaller publishers like Limited Run Games and Iam8bit, which specialize in physical releases of indie titles, frequently include comprehensive manuals as selling points. Retro-inspired games like Shovel Knight and Bloodstained bundle manuals to evoke the era they’re paying homage to. Kickstarter campaigns for physical releases almost always offer manuals as stretch goals or backer tiers, with these options typically selling well.
This bifurcation suggests that manual demand exists but is niche—too small for AAA cost structures but viable for smaller operations with lower overhead and more direct relationships with dedicated fanbases. The market has segmented into mass-market digital efficiency versus boutique physical experiences.
Community Perspectives
Gaming communities remain divided on manual revival. Reddit threads oscillate between nostalgia-driven enthusiasm and pragmatic dismissal. Some argue that modern game complexity makes comprehensive manuals impractical—imagine trying to document every mechanic in a game like Baldur’s Gate 3 or Tears of the Kingdom. Others counter that manuals don’t need to be comprehensive, just evocative introductions that enhance the unboxing experience.
Younger gamers who never experienced the manual era are often indifferent. For them, gaming has always been tutorial-driven and digitally documented. The manual discourse reads as boomer nostalgia for outdated practices rather than legitimate critique of modern game presentation. This generational gap matters—if most consumers under 30 don’t value manuals, publishers targeting that demographic have little incentive to produce them.
FAQs
Why did video game manuals disappear?
Manuals disappeared primarily due to cost-cutting as publishers sought to reduce per-unit production expenses, the rise of digital distribution eliminating physical components entirely, modern game design incorporating tutorials that made external instruction unnecessary, and the static nature of printed manuals becoming obsolete in an era of patches and updates.
Are any companies still making game manuals?
Yes, primarily indie developers and boutique publishers. Companies like Limited Run Games, Iam8bit, and Devolver Digital include physical manuals with select releases. Many Kickstarter-funded games offer manuals as backer rewards. AAA publishers have almost entirely abandoned them.
Can I buy manuals separately?
For modern games, rarely. Some indie developers sell manuals separately through their websites or print-on-demand services. For retro games, eBay and specialized retro game stores sell vintage manuals, though prices can be high for sought-after titles.
Do digital manuals count?
Digital manuals (PDFs or in-game documentation) serve the instructional function but lack the physical, anticipatory, and collectible aspects that manual advocates value. They’re functionally superior but culturally different.
What games have the best modern manuals?
Recent games praised for manuals include Shovel Knight (retro-style booklet), Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night (cloth-bound instruction book), The Banished Vault (physical manual for digital game), and Celeste (developer commentary and themes explanation).
Are manuals environmentally wasteful?
There’s debate. Printing manuals consumes paper and increases shipping weight, creating environmental costs. However, digital distribution has its own footprint through server energy consumption and hardware obsolescence. Manuals using recycled paper aren’t inherently more wasteful than digital alternatives.
Would bringing back manuals increase game prices?
Potentially by $5-10 for standard releases if publishers include quality manuals. Alternatively, offering manuals as optional add-ons lets interested consumers pay extra while others avoid the cost. Tiered pricing is the most market-friendly approach.
Can games be designed around manuals like Tunic?
Yes, though this is rare. Tunic uses its in-game manual as a core gameplay mechanic where discovering and interpreting manual pages drives exploration and puzzle-solving. This creative approach demonstrates manuals can be more than reference material when integrated thoughtfully.
Conclusion
The case for reviving physical game manuals balances legitimate nostalgia with practical arguments about value, presentation, and gaming culture. While modern tutorials undeniably teach mechanics more effectively than static printed instructions, manuals offered experiences beyond teaching—they built anticipation, provided tangible artifacts connecting players to games, preserved developer commentary and artwork, and served historical documentation functions that digital systems struggle to replicate. The complete abandonment of manuals represents AAA cost-cutting more than inevitable progress, evidenced by indie developers successfully incorporating them into physical releases without prohibitive expenses. A realistic revival wouldn’t mean every game includes 100-page tomes but rather giving consumers choices through optional add-ons, premium editions with enhanced documentation, or print-on-demand services for interested buyers. The bifurcation of gaming into mass-market digital efficiency versus boutique physical experiences suggests room for both approaches to coexist—let players who value instantaneous digital access enjoy that convenience while offering manual options for those who appreciate tangible keepsakes and pre-game anticipation building. Ultimately, the manual debate reflects broader tensions in modern gaming between efficiency and experience, between cost reduction and value addition, between serving majority preferences and preserving minority traditions. There’s no objectively correct answer, but the ongoing passion for physical documentation among collectors, preservationists, and nostalgic gamers suggests that manuals weren’t just anachronistic instruction sheets but meaningful cultural artifacts whose complete disappearance impoverished gaming’s presentation and collectibility even as gameplay itself improved.