Hiroshi Matsuyama, CEO of CyberConnect2, has made a blunt case for an all-digital games business: from a developer’s perspective, he believes abandoning physical discs would be a net positive.
His argument is chiefly financial. A developer or publisher releasing a boxed game must secure the physical media used by each platform, whether that means discs or game cards. That creates an additional cost before the game reaches players. Digital distribution removes that specific manufacturing layer, which Matsuyama says can make releases more profitable and, in turn, create a healthier financial outcome for development teams.
It is a position likely to land badly with players who value a shelf full of games, resale options, lending and the simple reassurance of owning a disc. Matsuyama does not dismiss the cultural attachment outright, however. He recognizes that physical copies were once the normal way games were bought. His central contention is instead that physical media no longer wins on convenience and that the economics increasingly favor digital storefronts.
The developer-side case for digital distribution
Physical publishing is not merely a different delivery format. It introduces a production decision with costs that do not apply in the same way to a download. Matsuyama used CyberConnect2’s own situation to explain the point: physical editions require the studio to buy discs or game cards from platform manufacturers such as Sony and Nintendo.
That does not mean digital releases are cost-free. A game still needs to be developed, supported and distributed through a platform’s digital store. But Matsuyama’s point is narrower and practical: removing the need to manufacture platform-specific media removes one expensive part of the release process.
For a studio, that matters because profit is not an abstract corporate scorecard. Matsuyama framed it in terms of salaries and bonuses. His view is that developers work for pay, and that higher profitability can reach the people making games. He argued that continuing physical production solely to accommodate a smaller audience of collectors and enthusiasts is hard to justify if it reduces the money available to the business and its staff.
Matsuyama’s position is that a shift to digital would be positive for developers because profitability could rise faster, potentially improving bonuses.
That is an argument about incentives, not a claim that every player must prefer downloads. It asks a more uncomfortable question: if digital sales form the overwhelming majority of a game’s audience, how much extra expense should a studio accept to preserve a physical format for the remainder?
Related coverage includes CyberConnect2 CEO Backs Digital-Only Games as Physical Media Debate Intensifies.
Matsuyama pointed to Capcom and Square Enix as examples where digital sales account for more than 90% of sales, in his description. If that proportion is representative of a particular release, the physical audience may be meaningful to its members while still being comparatively small in commercial terms. A boxed release can therefore be culturally important without being the most financially efficient option.
Convenience and ownership are not the same question
The word convenience does a lot of work in this debate. Digital games are bought and downloaded directly through a console or storefront, without going to a retailer, waiting for delivery or swapping discs. For players with reliable access to downloads and enough storage, that process is straightforward. It also offers publishers and developers a direct route from sale to installation.
But convenience is not the whole of what physical-game supporters are defending. A disc is a tangible item that can be displayed, loaned, traded or retained as part of a personal collection. Those qualities are separate from the question of whether it is the quickest way to start playing.
Matsuyama’s remarks acknowledge that longstanding cultural relationship with physical copies, even as he argues it no longer outweighs the commercial and practical advantages of digital delivery. His outlook is not necessarily that boxed products vanish overnight. He suggested that boxes containing download codes could remain. His sharper prediction is reserved for discs themselves, which he considers unlikely to endure.
That distinction matters. A box with a code preserves some of the retail and gift-giving experience, but it is fundamentally different from a disc that contains game data. It gives buyers a physical package, not necessarily a physical copy of the playable software. For collectors, those are not interchangeable ideas; for a publisher trying to avoid disc manufacturing, they may be close enough.
The dispute over increasingly large games
Matsuyama also tied his case to the size of modern games. He argued that many games are now too large for physical discs and cited Grand Theft Auto VI as an example he described as digital-only for that reason. The available information here reflects Matsuyama’s characterization; it should not be read as independent confirmation of the game’s format, file size or physical-release plans.
Still, the technical issue he raises is understandable. File size refers to the amount of storage data a game requires. As a game’s installation grows, fitting its entire contents on one piece of physical media can become more difficult. Digital distribution is not constrained by the capacity of an individual disc in the same direct way: players can download a package that is as large as the platform and their storage will accommodate.
That does not automatically settle the argument in favor of digital-only releases. A physical product can coexist with downloads, patches and additional data requirements. But Matsuyama sees the growth in software size as another pressure pushing the business away from discs, alongside manufacturing expense and a sales mix that he says is already heavily digital.
The shifting conversation around GTA VI illustrates why it is worth separating firm details from claims made in broader industry debates. Matsuyama’s use of Rockstar’s game is part of his larger argument about distribution trends, rather than evidence on its own that a particular retail plan has been finalized.
Why the argument remains contentious
The strongest part of Matsuyama’s stance is its clarity about whose interests it prioritizes. He is speaking from the viewpoint of a game maker managing costs and trying to support employees. In that frame, a required manufacturing purchase is a concrete expense, while the appeal of a collectible box can appear difficult to measure against a predominantly digital market.
The objection is equally clear. Players who buy physical games may see the format as more than a nostalgia product for a niche. Their preference can involve the practical ability to keep, lend or resell a purchase, as well as an interest in preserving game packaging and media. The source material does not establish how any platform holder will balance those priorities, and Matsuyama himself did not suggest the physical format would disappear immediately.
There is also a difference between a company’s sales mix and an individual player’s choices. A business can find that most transactions happen digitally, while a smaller physical-buying group considers discs essential to how it purchases games. Both statements can be true at the same time. The disagreement is about whether serving that group is worth the continuing production cost.
Matsuyama’s answer is no, at least as a long-term default. In his view, insisting on physical editions despite lower margins could mean accepting reduced resources for the people who make the games. That is why he regards a digital shift not as a reluctant compromise but as a potentially positive development for studios.
What this means for players and studios
No single executive’s view resolves the future of boxed games. But the remarks lay out the economic logic likely to shape more of the discussion: digital releases can avoid the direct expense of purchasing physical media, and studios may judge that saving more valuable as digital sales dominate.
For players, the practical implication is to pay close attention to what a physical product actually contains. If boxes with codes remain while discs decline, the marketplace could continue to offer retail packaging without offering the same form of physical software. Those are distinct products with different implications for people who care about tangible collections.
For developers, Matsuyama’s comments are a reminder that format choices are connected to budgets, revenue and staff compensation—not only tradition or player preference. His forecast is emphatically optimistic: he expects digital distribution to improve profitability and developer bonuses. Whether that outcome is broadly shared, and whether it offsets what many players believe is lost when discs leave the market, remains the core argument.
