Is Steam a Monopoly? The Survey Says Yes – Reality Says: It’s Complicated

Is Steam a Monopoly, or Just the Gravity Well of PC Gaming?

A fresh whitepaper on PC distribution landed with a headline-grabber: in a survey of 306 studio executives across the US and UK, 72% said Steam holds a monopoly on PC game distribution. That word, though, does a lot of heavy lifting. In strict legal terms, a monopoly implies exclusive control with no meaningful substitutes. PC, by contrast, is an open platform with multiple storefronts and direct-to-consumer routes. So why do so many developers feel like Steam is a monopoly? Because on the ground, marketplace gravity matters as much as definitions.

There are alternatives – Epic Games Store, GOG, itch.io, Microsoft’s PC store, publisher apps from EA and Ubisoft, and a long tail of smaller storefronts. Plenty of studios already multihome: nearly half of surveyed respondents say they’ve shipped on Epic or Xbox PC, while smaller shares reported using GOG and itch.io. Yet the center of mass remains Valve’s platform, where years of iteration have piled up features – library management, robust offline play, controller modes, mods, community tools, regional infrastructure – that make the experience hard to beat. Many players will pay the same (or even a bit more) to stay in the ecosystem that works.

That user preference becomes a network effect that looks like market power from a developer’s perspective: if the conversation, wishlists, and wallets cluster on Steam, your marketing and launch math nudges you there too. It’s not that competitors are blocked; it’s that they’re ignored if they don’t match the complete package. Epic’s push for exclusives grabbed headlines, but it also trained some players to see EGS as a place games leave Steam rather than a destination built on superior tooling. GOG’s DRM-free stance wins goodwill yet narrows publisher appetite. Microsoft’s store has improved but still trails in UX polish and community features.

Then there’s pricing and policy. Critics argue Valve’s historical price-parity expectations and other terms exert de facto pressure on publishers, limiting experimentation across stores. Supporters counter that parity keeps things simple, and that no one’s stopping publishers from using other channels – or even from selling directly. Meanwhile, the practice of regional pricing sparks a different kind of frustration: players in higher-income markets bristle when neighboring countries get cheaper tiers for the same build. Economically, price discrimination aims to grow global sales; emotionally, it feels unfair, and gray-market key resellers exploit that resentment.

On gray markets, nuance matters. Marketplaces like Humble or Fanatical, when used correctly, aren’t the gray market; they’re legitimate retailers with audit trails, caps, and anti-fraud processes. The “gray” emerges when keys leak, get region-flipped, or are obtained through fraudulent means. Some developers avoid all third-party stores out of fear, inadvertently walking away from useful reach and merchandising. Smarter key management – tight batch controls, region locks where appropriate, and clear terms with authorized partners – can turn those channels into valuable complements rather than risks.

Zoom out and the real headwinds for PC games go beyond any single storefront. Discoverability remains brutal as new releases pile into the same weekly windows. Free-to-play and live-service giants soak up attention and wallet share. Subscriptions adjust player expectations about ownership and price anchors. Even great games need orchestration: timing, wishlists, discount ladders, demos, creator outreach, and regional bundles all matter more than ever.

So what should studios do if Steam’s gravity feels inescapable? First, assume multihoming as a default. Launch on Steam, but carve bespoke positioning elsewhere: DRM-free collectors’ editions and offline installers on GOG; curated bundles and charity tie-ins on Humble; timed coupons or wallet credit on EGS; franchise hubs on publisher stores. Second, treat keys as a product line: monitor issuance like inventory, segment by region, and tie promotions to tracked campaigns. Third, invest in community where it actually lives – Steam forums and guides, yes, but also Discord, mod hubs, and creator programs that travel with your brand between stores.

Fourth, experiment on price without whiplash. Maintain coherent global tiers, and communicate clearly when currency swings or tax regimes force changes. Fifth, get data-literate: model your demand curves across storefronts, track how wishlists convert by country, and measure the marginal uplift of each channel against the extra operational effort. Finally, build for portability: cross-saves, cloud backup options, and transparent ownership messaging reduce friction for players who want to buy where they prefer.

Where does that leave the monopoly claim? Legally, Steam looks more like a dominant platform operating on an open system than a textbook monopoly. Functionally, it can behave like an “effective monopoly” because of network effects, switching costs, and consumer habit. Both things can be true: abundance of storefronts and scarcity of practical alternatives. Regulators typically ask whether a platform excludes rivals or harms consumers. Steam’s case is muddied by high user satisfaction and visible competitors. That doesn’t absolve Valve from scrutiny over clauses or fees, but it explains why courtroom definitions and developer sentiment diverge.

The bottom line: Steam didn’t win by accident; it compounded advantages for two decades. If rivals want share, they’ll have to beat Valve on fundamentals, not just incentives. If developers want leverage, they’ll need to diversify with intention, not just copy-paste builds to quieter stores. And if players want real competition, they should judge storefronts on reliability, features, and respect for ownership – not only on where their library currently lives.