Magic has a cultural problem, and Universes Beyond can solve it

As different as they may seem, except for being card games, they have one thing in common: culture - a crucial factor when it comes to fostering a game and making it attractive to outsiders while enhancing the sense of belonging of those already inside.

What they all have is a name. Brands like Pokémon and One Piece are famous, and despite their different titles, Riftbound and Lorcana have imagery that is easy to identify with the wider audience and has been captivated for years. Everyone knows who Mickey is, many recognize Jinx.

Now, let's get straight to the point: Magic doesn't have this. Magic lacks this cultural aspect.

The game's characters, lore, references, or illustrations fail to reach a broad range of people outside the card game bubble. They don't know who Jace is, and worse, they don't care who Jace is, just as they don't remember the Brothers' War, much less the events of the Invasion Tree and the New Phyrexia Invasion — they have no idea who Nicol Bolas is and why it's so dangerous that he's on the loose again. In general, most Magic players don't even care about the game's lore.

Dominaria, the plane where Magic's first decade was set and lived a period of constant conflict? They have no idea what it means. Magic fails to foster its own culture and export it to a wider audience, and that may be the downfall of this card game. For many, it has the same weight as a glorified board game, or collectible figures. It lacks soul, essence. And I don't ignore the rich history full of characters and memorable moments of Magic: The Gathering. But I've known this game for sixteen years. I've delved into its universe with so much hyperfocus, I've let myself get involved with these characters and universes.

The outside world? It has no reason to do the same. Magic doesn't offer them, it lacks culture beyond the card game, and in recent years, motivation beyond profit. For a game whose surname is The Gathering, Magic has an absurd difficulty in uniting people outside its circle and being something other than a product to be sold.

Wizards/Hasbro is left with the decision of taking one of two routes: reinforcing its cultural identity before a mainstream audience, or giving up its own persona and accepting the role of being a game system and seeking the identity of other places to establish its Gathering.

The path, at the moment, is the second: Universes Beyond and the planning of three sets in the year of this series means that Magic is willing to give up its property as a solid universe capable of captivating in favor of focusing on the game and collectibles aspect and leaving the identity to Final Fantasy, Marvel, Avatar, Tolkien, or whoever else offers a mutually beneficial partnership.

In a market where bigger brands have started to have their own card games and/or where others that were born at the same time have achieved much more success, it is the best thing Wizards is doing today to expand the game's scope into the mainstream. Magic needs to establish itself as a culture if it wants to continue to be successful, and if the game's universe doesn't do this on its own, giving it up in favor of uniting people with different passions around a single system could be the key to making it a hit among different audiences — after all, despite the criticisms and flaws of the mana system, Magic is still one of the best card games in the world in terms of gameplay.

There are a dozen answers depending on the perspective from which the question is asked, but I like the relationship that Marketing makes between the meaning of the word and the gestures.

Culture is the relationship between the product/brand and the consumer and vice-versa, so that it becomes part of their lives, their place of belonging and their place of connection with other people — that which awakens passion and memorable moments and makes them want to share it with others. The more people fall in love with the brand, the more people will get to know it.

Think about one of the greatest capitalist products of all time, Coca-Cola. The soft drink sells itself and its bottles have been on the table at family gatherings on Sundays for decades (not sure about the rest of the world, but it's certainly a common trait in Latin America), or its cans in the hands of people in the most diverse social settings, or restaurants. This does not stop the company from launching an advertisement more focused on family gatherings around Christmas, or that thing with a polar bear (which I, personally, never really understood). The reason is a reminder that this product is part of your family Christmas.

It's a cliché, it's getting lost, and it could disappear as television ceases to be the main means of mass communication, but it's the example that anyone has a memory of having watched.

In the TCG universe, the metrics are different. Although consumption is the key goal of any company, experience counts a lot, and we can ask some questions to evaluate how the culture of that card game exists and how it manifests itself within and outside its audience.

Magic offers almost all of these elements in some way: it creates a sense of belonging among its players who establish diverse ranges of communities that go from the casual Commander audience to the Spikes, highly competitive players seeking their moment of glory on the Pro Tour.

It actively participates in the lives of its players through discussions about decks or other topics on online forums, it creates habits around itself such as the culture of sleeves, playmats, its own linguistics, and the existence of a narrative universe around its worldbuilding, and it also promotes game spaces or events almost every day in thousands of stores around the world, even if these are not always the most inviting environments for those watching from the outside.

Magic as a sport

The importance of a game culture in Magic should also not be disregarded. When we watch a Pro Tour (even though it lacks the technical expertise and aesthetic beauty that some other games or eSports offer in their high-level tournaments broadcast), we are fostering competitive play while, at the same time, feeding a more tribalized — and notoriously downplayed — aspect of TCGs today, but still as important as it has always been: its nature as a sport.

There are several moments where the importance of the TCG as a competitive sport is evident, but one of my recent favorites came from the Calling São Paulo finals of Flesh and Blood, where Rio de Janeiro native Carlos Eduardo won the finals in a highly contested match, and the moment of the announcement his victory was accompanied by all his teammates going to the table to congratulate him in the best Brazilian style.

The moment occurred after the hour 07:57:16 of the live-streaming.

It is a beautiful scene to watch and perfectly illustrates what sports culture means in a card game. The emotion, the cheering that many did for Carlos while he played the final, the celebration of his teammates and those who watched live on the streaming, the pride of the player in having his first title in Flesh and Blood.

Magic is very capable of creating these moments — as long as you are not from Latin America or less developed countries, but let's save this talk for later — to the point of once trying to make its place in the eSports universe, an effort that was regrettably failed due to the combination of MTGArena's lack of structure in times of pandemic and Hasbro's great amateurism in this area.

The problem, however, lies in the last factor: the cultural manifestations of Magic outside its game space are very small, and the card game brand means very little to the wider audience. What attracts, for example, a group of younger people to try Magic instead of other products? As irrelevant as it may seem, in a few years they will be adults trying to win a Pro Tour, and they want to be the champions of Magic, Pokémon, or One Piece? Or will they be more interested in Riftbound?

Of the adults who are coming to the game now, how many know what a Pro Tour is, or care about competing in an event like MagicCon or Spotlight Series? How many even have a reason to think about competing? And how many can share their passion for Magic with others outside the card game circle?

Of the friends, family, and relationships of these young people and adults, how many are interested in actively participating in that person’s hobby? How inviting is Magic to them? How exactly is Magic proposing to these people to participate, or to make the brand known globally as something that anyone can play?

A few months ago, during Pro Tour Duskmourn, a comment was made to me that has been floating around in my head for a while: “this game is ugly to watch.”

It came from someone in the sports communications and product aesthetics field, but it wasn’t just referring to the visual sense of the broadcast, but also to the players' behavior; When I asked what that meant, the answer could be summed up as "it looks like chess, the players act like they're playing chess, and the broadcast tries too hard to make it look cooler than chess, and it gives off an unsportsmanlike atmosphere. There's no energy or charisma of a sport anywhere."

At Pro Tour Aetherdrift, I decided to look at it from this perspective and, perhaps not helped by the expansion's absurdly cringe visual aesthetic, I noticed the same problem. The commentators are good, the hosts do an excellent job of presenting the event, but the energy of the sport isn't there. The visual presentation of the information doesn't make the broadcast inviting for outsiders to get interested — Magic is, in fact, ugly to watch and not very exciting to root for.

And you don't even need to be a different type of game to feel the excitement. As much as many people don't like the comparisons, just watch some of the most recent EUIC Pokémon TCG games, and you'll notice the difference in energy and atmosphere both at the table and in the audience outside. People there seem to be having fun - the players at the Magic Pro Tour do not.

And please, if anyone from WotC PR or Marketing happens to read this article, do not try to tell the players to look like they are having fun, it would only make things more awkward. Magic has a lot of potential as a competitive sport, but it needs to be applied aesthetically in the right way on and off the broadcasts; that comes from well-applied advertising, changes in the consumer's behavior pattern and the breaking of social stigmas in the public perception of the product.

And we come back to Universes Beyond. Long-time players hate it, new players love it, and there is a huge mass of the community that complains a lot but buys it. In addition, there is a segment that also does not care if they are playing as Urza or Sephiroth, but in playing Magic.

The solution for MTG to become a mainstream cultural force is, as mentioned above, two-pronged: reinforcing the identity of its universe in an engaging way, or using the identity of other brands to reinforce its game — the Netflix series and the movie are the first case, Universes Beyond is the second.

I have little hope that the Magic's cinema or streaming project will become a success story. Wizards is not Riot, and it certainly doesn't have the narrative mastery and a fan base passionate enough to engage to the point of bursting its own bubble, not to mention that the project has already gone through so many changes that the result will probably fall short of fans' expectations, which are already low and with an audience that enjoys talking badly about the game.

The film is not expected to come out before 2030, and it could take longer than an asteroid likely to hit Earth in 2032 to arrive, so it's a risky, long-term investment, and given the history of the D&D cinematic universe, expectations may also be low.

In the short term, Universes Beyond is how Magic intends to stay relevant. Despite not completely abandoning its lore, Wizards itself during MagicCon Vegas 2024 called Magic an “IP” (intellectual property), no different from other brands, and the fact that half of the sets for 2025 and probably 2026 are from Universes Beyond sends some messages about how the company sees the game.

The most positive is that Magic wants to focus on Gathering, and nothing is more Gathering than bringing together people with equal or different passions in the same game system. Yes, this is a bigger step on the Commander side than on the aesthetic health of competitive play — which would start to take on Fortnite-like traits —, but this step of using Commander as the game's main social tool has already been taken for many years.

On the other hand, Universes Beyond is more profitable. Magic decreased 1% in the last quarter of 2024 and the blame fell on the fact that there were no Universes Beyond set like Lord of the Rings to increase product sales during the year. It's proven by the speed at which Marvel's Secret Lair products or Final Fantasy preorders sold out that working with other brands generates more revenue, and lately Magic has been turning into a number-pumping machine, once again, proven by its more recent 46% increase in revenue on the first quarter of 2025.

Whether it's an identity crisis — I'd much rather have an Avatar expansion than one in which the whole of Ravnica decided to don Fedora and play detective — or that Magic is putting too many Universes Beyonds in a single year — these products should be annual — most players are willing to accept these new IPs in their favorite card game, as long as it doesn't get in the way of their enjoyment of the game, which Magic, unfortunately, is showing every sign of doing.

In another article, I mentioned how Universes Beyond could suppress Magic's availability in Latin America due to sudden price increases. To recap: all crossover sets are priced as a premium product similar to Modern Horizons, and one of my claims as to why Universes Beyond should be an annual is because it creates time for players to prepare financially and buy a “more expensive set” during the year.

More expensive products mean that they are less accessible and even less attractive to their target audience. Yes, Magic players are mostly willing to buy a little less Tarkir: Dragonstorm or Edge of Eternities in favor of more Final Fantasy and Spider-Man, or even pay a little more to have their Cloud, Ex-SOLDIER Commander deck.

The effect on fans of these brands, however, is a negative image. How can you explain that a bundle of four Final Fantasy Commander decks is as expensive as a console? Or to Spider-Man fans that they will have to pay a little more for products than they should just because it's Spider-Man?

In that time, it has become clear that Wizards has become Hasbro’s main source of revenue and profit, both with Magic: The Gathering and the massive success of Baldur’s Gate 3, and it has become increasingly clear that the company has prioritized continually increasing profits over the long-term health of its brands.

But numbers can’t go up forever.

Eventually, the profit line will stop growing. Longtime players may be alienated by the mix of release speed (there are six Standard sets per year now) and continually increasing prices (of those six, three have the MSRP of a premium product and the boxes now come with fewer packs), and new players may turn away when the keep up becomes too much, too, while fans of the brands with which Magic has partnered may be interested only in that product from their favorite brand and then turn away for the same reason as the others — As long as Universes Beyond consistently has premium product prices, Hasbro is pushing the envelope on what Magic players can afford financially.

The first audiences affected by this effect are those who have less money to spare to buy these products. It’s not just people who might earn a lower salary and therefore can’t afford to buy everything they want, it's also parents, those who have additional costs for studies and other personal projects, or even those who invest in other hobbies — including card games — too.

Taking away the opportunity to play Magic from these people because its prices have become too restrictive for them to keep up with creates a chain reaction. They won’t talk about the game with their friends and family, they won’t introduce them to a local store to learn, and consequently, they won’t add to the TCG fan base that keeps the machine running.

If people don’t talk about Magic, the game’s growth will stagnate. If Magic’s marketing is negative because it’s too expensive, fewer people will be encouraged to even try it out over another card game, and if Hasbro’s image is that of a hobby for the elite, the target audience becomes much smaller.

With a narrowed audience and limited to the title of an elite product, what will happen to Magic: The Gathering if it ceases to be a reliable investment for the stock market? When its reach is limited to scalpers and collectors looking for a luxury hobby, will it still be attractive to those Hasbro currently serves?

Is the company too busy turning Magic into a cardboard NFT to care that the “this product is not for you” is applying to more and more people as they narrow the scope of potential consumers to the point where everyone who is interested in Standard, for example, now has to spend more than twice as much as they did last year to keep up with the game?

After all, what future can we expect for a game that, to the detriment of its own cultural production as both a sport and a tool for social interaction between different perceptions of the world, is prioritizing a thin line of more elite consumers who can afford to pay the high prices of Universes Beyond several times a year and consume more of the famous Secret Lair drops that sell out in a few hours?

What future is there for a brand that, at the same time, claims to be dedicated to being more inclusive and increasingly creates barriers that limit access to its main product, especially for fans of other brands and universes?

What kind of culture do these attitudes foster in its audience? When it removes the localization in a Latin American language, for example, what category of people is the company indirectly saying that it is not worth investing time and money in captivating new generations of players in that region?

Finally, how can Magic grow as part of the popular imagination and be comparable to other IPs that are conquering their space, or are gaining more and more notoriety at the expense of a card game that, once, was at the forefront of what defined a good game?

Maybe Hasbro is too sure that it has the best card game in the world in its hands. And they do — But being the best card game in the world won't make Magic stay on top forever, not without feeding the Gathering, and definitely not if the company prioritizes profit over its own image building and cultural impact in the mainstream.

Let's end this article with a story.

The next day, I spoke to the organizer of the Pokémon Day event mentioned above — this is someone who, like me, is a long-time Magic player. He started in Fourth Edition and followed the game for many years until he decided to open his own store.

My interest in the conversation was clear: to understand the fundamentals of that event, why it worked so well, and how this could be transferred to other card games. As simple as it was, a TCG event attracting so many people who do not belong to this universe in an organic way aroused curiosity.

Initially, there were some common points that we agreed on. The first was the core of writing this article: Magic lacks a culture that has the same social impact. One example was the Open Houses, which took place in the pre-pandemic period to attract a new audience and teach them how to play Magic — you could make a good ad with good reasons to participate, but “come play Magic” would never be as attractive as “come play Pokémon” because people care less about Magic, there is no image product today that makes Magic recognized. There was also agreement that other games like One Piece and the new Riftbound would be much more successful in this practice than other titles whose IP is not in the collective imagination, like Flesh and Blood.

In addition to the lack of its own culture, a problem was eventually mentioned: there is a negative culture in card games. In the case of Magic, potentially rooted in the fact that it was a game born in the 90s and that, for a long time, was the hobby of a socially isolated audience that found refuge in the game — This manifests itself in many ways, such as the very negative perception of older players about the reality of Magic today and about Universes Beyond, and even the way in which they can, directly or indirectly, act against initiatives that would attract a new, fresh audience.

A good example can be seen with Spider-Man. When the possibility of holding a "Magic Day" using the Welcome Decks that will come with the set was mentioned, the first result that came to mind — if a store doesn't control their distribution very well — would be a dozen players and scalpers participating to get the decks with exclusive Spider-Man cards to try to sell them later for some inflated price on a marketplace, ruining the purpose of the event of bringing more people to Magic, which is one of the goals of the Universes Beyond series to begin with.

Pokémon also has its share of issues, especially with scalpers and cheaters — there is a video where two people literally fight for a booster box —, and the answer to why an event of this size is possible despite them involves two factors: the lack of added value in the starter decks combined with the fact that the Pokémon audience in many regions is more diverse in gender, social demographics and ages. And consequently, these people have more difficulty making enough noise, or end up having to leave when they become a nuisance to the community.

Another factor that becomes an impediment for these more toxic behaviors and traits involves a mix of Pokémon's natural renewal cycle, given that many young people start collecting cards and are interested in playing, or they already get into the card game and grow up playing — something that, in Magic, needs to be driven by the external force of another player — in addition, unlike a Walmart or similar, the local store has the power, if it suits it, to control the environment in which this audience is inserted, creating mechanisms to avoid practices that they consider harmful in their communities. Would it be possible to do this in other card games? Yes, but some of them already have such an ingrained culture that they have difficulty changing because the audience does not renew itself.

As much as many fans of other TCGs claim that Pokémon should never be used as a reference in the segment, the ideal would be the opposite: every card game should seek the reach and success that a brand like Pokémon managed to have within its segment, and understand how it worked, why it worked, and what applies in this case to its product.

There was, however, one question that we were unable to answer: what is missing?

The truth is that, as people living in a specific reality, it is difficult to pinpoint precisely which paths Magic could take to improve its reach as a cultural object.

As presented during this article, there are still doubts whether this is a priority for Wizards, whether there is a practical solution and even whether Universes Beyond is the way forward and whether the public would like the idea of ​​playing with several cards from different IPs in the same system.

The only certainty is that Wizards of the Coast should be concerned with transforming itself beyond the game and becoming an object of mainstream culture. Something recognized by mere visual language and that makes people covet the product because it is Magic as the market of competition from brands much stronger than its TCG only grows every year — even if this “being Magic” only means being the best card game system in the world.