A new season of Fortnite launched over the weekend, following a very popular concert event that I managed to miss every time it ran. The season brings new landmarks, changes to movement, some creatures running around the world–and, it seems, removes the ability to see your squadmates’ levels, which is totally screwing me up.
I usually play Fortnite in squads with strangers, and these days I keep my voice chat off. This means the start of every new round is taken up by trying to parse if I’ve landed with a good squad–players who know what they’re doing and stick together–or a bad squad–players who just want to screw around, or who run off and get themselves killed in remote parts of the map where I will nevertheless rush to try to revive them out of an overdeveloped sense of duty. One way I figure out the potential social dynamics is by seeing what level everyone is, indicated by a number next to their names in the top left of my screen. Higher levels don’t necessarily mean a better squad, of course, but at the very least I use them as a decision-making factor when my squad can’t agree on where to land–I’ll follow the player with the highest level, figuring they probably know where they’re going.
But when I booted up the new season last night, player levels no longer appeared. Other players have noticed it too, and largely aren’t happy with it. Overall, I think it’s probably a good change: I would often find myself in matches where higher-level squadmates would bail if they were too high above the rest of the squad, which felt bad and made my squads lopsided.
I know that a player’s level doesn’t really mean anything about them as a squadmate. And there are other XP and battle pass changes players are riled up about that are probably more consequential. But the lack of player levels has upset the delicate, mostly imaginary social balance of my games. I miss the (imaginary) comfort of sticking to my highest-level squadmate, feeling shepherded through the mysteries and dangers of a new season. I miss the (again, imaginary) sense of responsibility I felt to low-level squadmates, whom I would feel duty-bound to defend. Now my squad is just a bunch of names, a level playing field of strangers. How do I sort us into a pecking order? Who do I prioritize? How do I tell myself a complex tale of heroes and newcomers banding together against the odds? Where do I find my narrative fulfillment?
Like I said, this is probably mostly a good thing. And, as someone who doesn’t play Fortnite as frequently as I used to, I have to admit I sort of appreciate there being less information on the screen, which over the seasons has become so cluttered with indicators and symbols that I mostly tune them out. Now I need to learn about my squadmates through their actions, rather than largely meaningless numbers next to their names. There’s probably a lesson in here somewhere.
