Why Physical Media Matters More Than Ever

PlayStation recently announced that, as of January 2028, it will cease production of physical discs for new games and move towards digital-only releases. The premise is one of convenience and changing consumer habits, but the reaction to the announcement has been very telling. People want to own what they buy, rather than have access to it depend on a subscription service, a stable internet connection, or the continued availability of a digital platform.

I am someone who has always believed in owning physical media, whether that means DVDs, games, audiobooks or audio dramas, and this past week has unintentionally reminded me why.

I have been a regular listener to Big Finish audio dramas since 2018 and, whenever possible, I have bought the physical CDs, which also come with access to a digital version through the app. These audio dramas reignited my enthusiasm for the Doctor Who franchise and, over several years, I have built up a substantial collection.

However, Big Finish recently updated its website, alongside changes to the app, and my digital collection has become jumbled in the process. Some releases are now separated into individual tracks instead of appearing as complete audio dramas, while others have episodes missing entirely from a volume or series.

I hope this is only a temporary glitch. However, it has demonstrated how easily several years of collecting could potentially be disrupted by a bad update, a technical error or problems during a platform transition. My physical CDs, meanwhile, remain exactly where they were and exactly as I bought them.

The same issue applies to films and television programmes. How many times have you wanted to watch a particular show or film, only to discover that none of the many streaming services you subscribe to have it? Or perhaps it was available, but the service lost the rights to it by a certain date.

Viewers are increasingly placed on a timetable for consuming media while being expected to pay for services that cannot guarantee a consistent library. If DVDs and Blu-rays were no longer available, some truly great pieces of cinema and television could become increasingly difficult to access simply because they are not popular enough to be promoted by an algorithm or retained by a streaming service.

This is where PlayStation risks falling into a trap that many consumers can already see coming.

Gamers spend dozens, sometimes hundreds, of hours building statistics, exploring worlds and investing emotionally in stories and characters. Why should they be comfortable with the possibility that access to those experiences could one day disappear?

There is also an important distinction between digitally purchasing a game and accessing one through a subscription catalogue. If a game is included with a premium subscription service, why pay for it separately? The answer is simple: because subscription libraries change. Not every game is available forever, and not every game is included in the first place.

Physical ownership offers something increasingly rare: certainty. A physical collection means that, provided the disc and compatible hardware remain functional, the game is still there. It is not being rented or temporarily loaned through a changing catalogue. It belongs to the person who bought it.

There are, of course, advantages to digital media. It is convenient, immediate and requires no physical storage space. For many people, those benefits make digital purchases the preferred option. The problem begins when convenience stops being a choice and becomes the only option.

In an age when more and more media is digitalised, streamed and accessed through subscriptions, ownership matters more than ever. The stories we play, watch, read and listen to shape us. They inspire the stories we later seek out and the art we may eventually create ourselves.

If access to art is determined entirely by licensing agreements, corporate platforms and algorithms, then media can be discarded as easily as it is promoted. When that happens, we risk losing more than physical discs sitting on a shelf.

We risk losing control over the culture we have paid to experience.