"It Is a Rental Disguised as a Sale," Says US Lawmaker Ritchie Torres

US Representative Ritchie Torres plans legislation to protect purchased games from becoming unplayable when publishers shut their servers, challenging how much a digital purchase actually buys. ^[1][2]

The New York Democrat announced on October 15, 2026, that he intends to introduce the Power To The Players Act. It would direct the Federal Trade Commission to write rules protecting buyers' ability to own, play and transfer purchased games, including offline play after online services close. ^[1][2]

The proposal brings a consumer dispute into federal politics: a publisher can take payment for a game, then later withdraw the service that makes it work. The case for intervention is strongest where that shutdown destroys the buyer's ability to use the product at all. Protecting continued play deserves to become part of the cost of selling a game.

"I think there should be a simple rule: if you pay for it, you own it," Torres told Kotaku. His statement put the accusation more sharply: "A game that can be taken away the moment a company pulls the plug is not a purchase. It is a rental disguised as a sale." ^[2]

This is an announced proposal, not an introduced bill. Its text, timing and co-sponsors have not been confirmed, and its coverage of existing games, different game types and licensed content has not been defined. Torres also did not confirm Republican support to Kotaku. Those details will determine whether his promise becomes a workable consumer right. ^[1][2]

Two dates that define the problem

For buyers of NBA 2K25, the dispute has a calendar. The basketball game is due to disappear from digital storefronts on October 30, 2026. Its online servers are scheduled to close on January 1, 2027, disabling its most popular modes, according to Kotaku, which said 2K Games had confirmed the shutdown. ^[2]

Those are different events. Delisting stops new purchases through the affected stores. A server shutdown can strip functionality from copies already sold. A customer who bought before the first deadline can still lose modes at the second.

That distinction should guide the legislation. Keeping a game on sale indefinitely would be a different demand from protecting the use of a copy already purchased. The consumer's strongest claim begins with the money already handed over.

NBA 2K25 is an impending example. Ubisoft's racing game The Crew supplies the completed one. Released in 2014, it was taken offline in 2024, leaving it unplayable. Ubisoft cited server infrastructure and licensing constraints, according to the BBC. The shutdown helped prompt Ross Scott to start the Stop Killing Games campaign in 2024. ^[4]

Ten years between release and closure may sound like a substantial commercial life. It does not answer the buyer's question: why must the end of the publisher's service also be the end of the purchased game?

Ubisoft offered a legal answer when responding to a proposed class-action lawsuit. It argued that customers had bought a licence rather than unlimited ownership rights and had been warned that online services would not last forever. The plaintiffs voluntarily withdrew the case, which was dismissed without prejudice in June 2025. That outcome did not resolve the argument through a ruling on its merits. ^[4]

Torres is proposing to change the rules around precisely that gap between the transaction a customer recognises as buying a game and the rights a publisher says it granted.

The political appeal is obvious. Buyers should not need to become experts in software licences to understand whether their purchase has an expiry mechanism. But turning that appeal into law requires a definition of what must survive.

The disc is only part of the story

Sony Interactive Entertainment has already announced a major change in how PlayStation games will reach customers. Starting in January 2028, it will stop producing discs for all new games released on PlayStation consoles. New releases will be sold digitally, including through retailers. ^[3]

The cutoff does not cover games released, or due to be released, on disc before then. Existing disc libraries are outside the announced change. ^[3]

Sony's decision makes the ownership debate more urgent because it removes the physical purchase option for those new releases. Yet packaging and continued access are separate questions. Torres's proposed offline requirement addresses what happens when a game loses its supporting service, whatever form the purchase took. ^[1][2][3]

A digital game that keeps working offline poses a different consumer problem from one that requires a publisher's live servers. The first can retain its use after the commercial relationship ends. The second leaves that use dependent on an operating decision the buyer cannot control.

This is why an argument built entirely around saving discs would miss the target. The useful protection is continued functionality. A box is a poor substitute for a game that runs.

Torres's intended rights also extend beyond play to transfer: the ability to pass a purchased game to someone else. ^[1][2] That would ask a further question of the digital transaction. Does the buyer receive something they can dispose of, or only personal permission to access it?

Continued play and transfer belong in the same ownership debate, but they require separate answers. A rule that preserves offline access could leave transfer untouched. A right to transfer could be hollow if the game being transferred no longer works. The bill will need to make each promise concrete.

Publishers have a real cost argument

The industry has a credible objection to any rule that amounts to permanent server support. Video Games Europe, a group representing major publishers, said shutting online services must remain an option when games are no longer commercially viable. It also warned that some Stop Killing Games proposals could increase the cost of developing online-only games. Those comments addressed the campaign's proposals, rather than Torres's specific federal plan. ^[4]

A service costs money to operate. Requiring it to continue forever would make the initial sale an obligation with no end date. Legislators should take that objection seriously.

Torres's stated approach points toward a different obligation: provide an offline mode that remains playable when the servers close. ^[1][2] That would let a publisher end its service while preserving some lasting use for the buyer.

For a game whose central experience can work without a live service, that is a persuasive goal. For one built around continuing interaction among players, the design problem is harder. An offline mode cannot, by itself, recreate a populated online world. The law should describe the functionality buyers are entitled to retain rather than treat the word "offline" as a complete technical specification.

Licensing adds another constraint. Ubisoft cited it alongside server infrastructure when explaining The Crew's closure. ^[4] Preserving access may therefore require publishers to plan for the end of a game's commercial life when they arrange its rights and build its systems, rather than wait until closure is approaching.

That could raise costs. It could also make those costs visible before the sale, instead of leaving the customer to absorb the loss afterward. The industry's cost objection is a reason to design the obligation carefully, not a sufficient reason to reject it.

A defensible rule would allow services to end while requiring publishers to account for what happens to purchased games. It should also make the limits of continuing access clear before someone pays. Selling a dependency without adequately explaining its consequences invites exactly the political response now taking shape.

The promise now needs enforceable terms

State lawmakers have already moved into this territory. California's Protect Our Games Act had passed the state Assembly and reached the Senate when the BBC described its progress on June 6, 2026. ^[4] Torres's federal proposal joins an existing legislative effort to address game shutdowns.

Its significance is the proposed national mechanism: Congress would direct the FTC to establish ownership protections. ^[1][2] That moves the dispute beyond whether an individual publisher's licence permits a shutdown and toward what terms publishers should be allowed to offer buyers in the first place.

The strongest version of this effort would establish an obligation publishers can plan around and buyers can understand. The weakest would leave "ownership" as an attractive word with no dependable right attached.

Torres's slogan is a useful starting principle. It cannot do the drafting. The legislation must distinguish the purchased game from the continuing service, then specify what the customer retains when that service ends. Otherwise the argument will return at every shutdown, with another set of buyers discovering how little their purchase secured.

After formal introduction, the proposal would face the congressional committee process. ^[2] The next concrete test comes sooner for NBA 2K25 buyers: its scheduled store removal on October 30, followed by the server closure on January 1. ^[2] Those deadlines will arrive whether or not Congress has settled what it means to buy a game.