davidwarnercanada
Chieftain
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2025
- Messages
- 1
I’ve been playing Civilization for a very long time. My journey began with Civ II, back when the interface was clunky but the imagination it inspired was limitless. Over the years, I became more than a player; I turned into a modder—starting privately with Civ III and sharing my work publicly since Civ V.
So when Civilization VII was announced, my hopes were high. The franchise has always been a blend of history, strategy, and creativity—a digital sandbox where humanity’s story unfolds differently each time. But my first encounter with Civ VII was… difficult. My reaction was negative, almost alienated, as if something essential had been lost.
After taking some time to play and reflect, however, I want to share what I think could reconcile me with the game. These thoughts aren’t just complaints; they’re the perspective of someone deeply attached to a series that has shaped countless hours of my gaming life.
One of my biggest disappointments was the shift away from historical leaders. Facing Ada Lovelace or Ibn Battuta felt strange. Don’t get me wrong—these figures are brilliant and worthy of recognition—but they don’t embody civilizations the way Catherine, Shaka, or Montezuma once did.
Part of Civ’s magic has always been that you didn’t just play “Rome”; you played Rome under Caesar. Leaders gave character, identity, and narrative to otherwise abstract mechanics. And sometimes, Civ surprised us with figures we knew little about—like the Mississippians, who broadened our horizons by showcasing histories rarely taught in classrooms.
Imagine if Civ VII leaned into this strength: Harappa, the Marajoara, or powerful individuals like Zenobia or Timur, who left undeniable marks on history. That mix of familiar and unfamiliar made past titles endlessly replayable.
If Firaxis gave me just one recognizable historical leader for each civ, it would reignite much of my lost enthusiasm.
Another hurdle is the interface. Civilization is a game of information, but Civ VII often makes me feel like I’m flying blind.
When I place a building, I can’t tell if the yields I’m seeing are before or after construction. Am I making the right choice? How much am I really losing? These questions break the flow of gameplay.
The attributes interface feels similarly clumsy. When I have to make an economic or cultural choice, the game doesn’t automatically guide me to the correct tab. Instead, I must hunt for the “1,” as though the interface is hiding from me. Small details, but for a series as detail-driven as Civ, they matter.
These are solvable problems. A few quality-of-life improvements would restore clarity and smoothness. But I can’t help wondering if others have raised them—or if players are just adapting in silence.
This is where my disappointment deepens. Civ VII feels stripped-down compared to previous base games. Where are the basics I’ve come to expect?
These aren’t luxuries. They’re fundamental features that define the Civ experience. Their absence makes the game feel incomplete, as if content we once had is now being withheld for later updates or expansions.
I can’t ignore the suspicion that this reflects modern monetization strategies—keeping core content behind timed updates, or selling it piecemeal. Maybe that’s simply the reality of today’s industry, but as a long-time fan, it feels like being shortchanged.
I’ve learned my lesson: when Civ VIII arrives, I’ll wait at least two years before buying. That’s the price of trust lost.
Civ VII’s most radical change is its era-based civilization system—switching civs as ages advance. I don’t hate it; in fact, I’ve played Humankind extensively, and I appreciate what it tried to achieve. Continuity does exist here, but in Civ VII it feels fragile.
Why strive to be technologically or militarily ahead, if that advantage evaporates in the next age? Why bother outpacing others, if the reset levels the playing field? It undermines part of the long-term strategy that made Civilization so compelling.
I also miss little exploits that rewarded curiosity—like discovering a new continent in Antiquity before everyone else. Those moments felt like my story, my reward for playing boldly. In Civ VII, that sense of adventure is muted.
The system could still work, but civic transitions need to feel less punishing, with more meaningful choices and carryover between eras. Otherwise, progress feels hollow.
Despite all this, I can’t abandon Civilization. My history with the series runs too deep. For decades, it’s been a place where I’ve dreamed, experimented, and learned. Even Civ VII, for all my criticisms, contains sparks of brilliance—ideas that, if refined, could lead to something great.
My hope is that Firaxis listens closely to its community. That they restore the features we miss, reintroduce historical leaders, polish the interface, and rethink how era changes affect strategy.
As a veteran player and modder, I’ll be watching closely. Civilization has always evolved alongside its fans, and I believe it still can.
Because at the end of the day, no matter how frustrated I am, I remain what I’ve always been: a Civ player, waiting for my next turn.
So when Civilization VII was announced, my hopes were high. The franchise has always been a blend of history, strategy, and creativity—a digital sandbox where humanity’s story unfolds differently each time. But my first encounter with Civ VII was… difficult. My reaction was negative, almost alienated, as if something essential had been lost.
After taking some time to play and reflect, however, I want to share what I think could reconcile me with the game. These thoughts aren’t just complaints; they’re the perspective of someone deeply attached to a series that has shaped countless hours of my gaming life.
The Absence of Historical Leaders
One of my biggest disappointments was the shift away from historical leaders. Facing Ada Lovelace or Ibn Battuta felt strange. Don’t get me wrong—these figures are brilliant and worthy of recognition—but they don’t embody civilizations the way Catherine, Shaka, or Montezuma once did.
Part of Civ’s magic has always been that you didn’t just play “Rome”; you played Rome under Caesar. Leaders gave character, identity, and narrative to otherwise abstract mechanics. And sometimes, Civ surprised us with figures we knew little about—like the Mississippians, who broadened our horizons by showcasing histories rarely taught in classrooms.
Imagine if Civ VII leaned into this strength: Harappa, the Marajoara, or powerful individuals like Zenobia or Timur, who left undeniable marks on history. That mix of familiar and unfamiliar made past titles endlessly replayable.
If Firaxis gave me just one recognizable historical leader for each civ, it would reignite much of my lost enthusiasm.
The Interface Problem
Another hurdle is the interface. Civilization is a game of information, but Civ VII often makes me feel like I’m flying blind.
When I place a building, I can’t tell if the yields I’m seeing are before or after construction. Am I making the right choice? How much am I really losing? These questions break the flow of gameplay.
The attributes interface feels similarly clumsy. When I have to make an economic or cultural choice, the game doesn’t automatically guide me to the correct tab. Instead, I must hunt for the “1,” as though the interface is hiding from me. Small details, but for a series as detail-driven as Civ, they matter.
These are solvable problems. A few quality-of-life improvements would restore clarity and smoothness. But I can’t help wondering if others have raised them—or if players are just adapting in silence.
Missing the Basics
This is where my disappointment deepens. Civ VII feels stripped-down compared to previous base games. Where are the basics I’ve come to expect?
- “One more turn” mode—gone.
- Classic civs—missing.
- City renaming—absent.
- Hotseat multiplayer—nowhere to be found.
These aren’t luxuries. They’re fundamental features that define the Civ experience. Their absence makes the game feel incomplete, as if content we once had is now being withheld for later updates or expansions.
I can’t ignore the suspicion that this reflects modern monetization strategies—keeping core content behind timed updates, or selling it piecemeal. Maybe that’s simply the reality of today’s industry, but as a long-time fan, it feels like being shortchanged.
I’ve learned my lesson: when Civ VIII arrives, I’ll wait at least two years before buying. That’s the price of trust lost.
Changing Civilizations Each Age
Civ VII’s most radical change is its era-based civilization system—switching civs as ages advance. I don’t hate it; in fact, I’ve played Humankind extensively, and I appreciate what it tried to achieve. Continuity does exist here, but in Civ VII it feels fragile.
Why strive to be technologically or militarily ahead, if that advantage evaporates in the next age? Why bother outpacing others, if the reset levels the playing field? It undermines part of the long-term strategy that made Civilization so compelling.
I also miss little exploits that rewarded curiosity—like discovering a new continent in Antiquity before everyone else. Those moments felt like my story, my reward for playing boldly. In Civ VII, that sense of adventure is muted.
The system could still work, but civic transitions need to feel less punishing, with more meaningful choices and carryover between eras. Otherwise, progress feels hollow.
A Hope for the Future
Despite all this, I can’t abandon Civilization. My history with the series runs too deep. For decades, it’s been a place where I’ve dreamed, experimented, and learned. Even Civ VII, for all my criticisms, contains sparks of brilliance—ideas that, if refined, could lead to something great.
My hope is that Firaxis listens closely to its community. That they restore the features we miss, reintroduce historical leaders, polish the interface, and rethink how era changes affect strategy.
As a veteran player and modder, I’ll be watching closely. Civilization has always evolved alongside its fans, and I believe it still can.
Because at the end of the day, no matter how frustrated I am, I remain what I’ve always been: a Civ player, waiting for my next turn.
