Co-streaming has become a huge part of the esports ecosystem, for better or worse. The industry has mixed feelings about co-streaming’s place in esports, so we figured we’d share our own opinions.

Aaron Alford is a professional debater, and I’m just here to rant and rave about a topic. But we are both just having some fun looking at an interesting and complex topic in our industry. However, see if either of us convinced you of anything.

I was recently covering the RLCS 2026 Paris Major because Rocket League fans were wondering why this major had such a massive viewership decline compared to the Boston Major. I know people love to say that things are “dying” constantly around here, but it’s actually the opposite. Rocket League was never super popular, and Boston’s numbers did not reflect the actual fanbase. 

That’s because Boston had massively inflated viewership since extremely popular variety streamer Nicholas “Jynxzi” Stewart had been co-streaming. With nearly 16 million followers between his Twitch and YouTube, Jynxzi had plenty of built-in, loyal viewers that would have watched him whether it was the RLCS Boston Major or just him farting and playing Among Us. 

When Jynxzi didn’t co-stream the Paris Major, the fans didn’t stick around to keep watching the RLCS. They remained on Jynxzi’s Twitch watching him play whatever game was next on his schedule. Rocket League didn’t gain a massive number of fans and the viewership went back to normal. 

I’m here to argue that co-streamers are an awesome addition to the esports ecosystem in many ways, but they don’t actually prove that esports tournaments have a large number of viewers. 

Another example of that is League of Legends esports. League of Legends is viewed far more than Rocket League, but its numbers are still inflated by co-streamers. In 2025, co-streamers surpassed official broadcasts for tournament hours watched. The esports community even acknowledged that Marc “Caedrel” Lamont was practically required to co-stream LoL Esports or the viewership would decline drastically. 

I’m not here to say that viewership doesn’t increase when popular co-streamers are involved. That’s is obvious. I’m here to say, once more, that these viewership stats don’t actually mean that esports is gaining popularity or fans. These people are watching because they would watch anything the streamer does. Therefore, I don’t count these viewership numbers towards the esports event itself. They count in the sense that they are a number, but it doesn’t count as genuine interest in esports. 

And why does this matter? It doesn’t. I just like debating with Aaron (even though it’s intimidating). But I would like to point out that many esports scenes, like the FGC, are also frustrated by publishers’ and tournament organizers’ desperation to inflate esports’ popularity rather than focus on actual fans. 

Shoving streamers and content creators into events will get random people to tune in and make the tournament get more ad revenue or fake popularity, sure. But it takes away from the realness of these events. It shouldn’t be about the streamers and their fans. It should be about the top pro players and their talent. It should be about the community, the ones that actually care about the game and the players. 

Co-streaming isn’t terrible. A few people may stick around and become fans of the esport title on their own after seeing the content creator stream it. And that’s the point. However, I don’t think this happens as often as people think. Based on numbers. 

But again, don’t listen to me. I’m just here to see if I can hold my own in this debate. 

Co-streaming, a broadcast format that allows certain streamers to watch-party an event, has become a mainstay of the esports broadcast scene, as Olivia pointed out. 

Not only have costreams helped build community and awareness around different esports, but they are also contributing significant numbers of viewers to events — this I do not question. In some cases, co-streamers have been known to exceed even the official broadcast in viewers, as was the case at the peak of Tarik’s viewership for VALORANT esports events.

But does that mean, saying that the esport isn’t popular, because the views are coming through watch parties instead?

I disagree with those who would question the validity of these views. While it is true that some number of viewers on a co-stream would not have otherwise tuned into the event, the popularity of costreams does not take away from the success of an esport — it shows that the esport is a spectacle that can hold the attention of casual and hardcore fans alike when its brought to their attention.

But more importantly, it demonstrates that success in esports isn’t just about how many people can name all the players on stage, it’s about the ability to foster community. 

Unlike traditional franchise sports, esports don’t have the benefit of tens millions of dollars in corporate sponsorship on every event, with their athletes showing up on cereal boxes (unless it’s Faker), and where their tournaments are celebrated across broadcast television and broader culture as the next big thing (perhaps with the exception of something like League of Legends Worlds).

They rely on word of mouth and organic growth, and one of the methods of organic growth is co-streaming.

Competitive scenes aren’t just about sick nasty gameplay. They are about connecting with like-minded people and experiencing the drama of sports together. They are, in a very real sense, about connection. Even in the case of Jynxi watching RLCS, suggesting they weren’t a valid part of the viewership is like suggesting that Swifties who tuned in to watch the Chiefs don’t demonstrate the NFL’s success.

Speaking of the NFL, even in that league, co-streamers are becoming an extension of sports culture. Much like how the NFL has its ManningCast, where Eli and Peyton Manning watch American football games, so too does esports costreaming culture add to the ecosystem of esports — even when only a temporary boost. The mistake is believing that costreaming audiences are somehow separate from the esport and its culture.

Even if Jynxi doesn’t show up to every RLCS event, the fact that he tuned in at all shows the esport is reaching broader audiences.

I think the mistake here is believing there is such a thing as absolute popularity, a quantity that can be measured and derived absent cultural context. There is a reason people go to Super Bowl parties in the United States, even if they don’t watch the regular season. There is a reason that everyone gets together to watch the World Cup, even if they don’t watch soccer regularly. It’s because sports are more fun together, and sports peak at certain moments due to a variety of factors — all of them valid.

Esports is still pretty niche. It doesn’t have the same physically located locus of culture that sports has in the form of sports bars. It simply hasn’t grown big enough in many parts of the world to support esports bars (though they exist in some places). For many fans, if you want the experience of watching esports with a community, with fellow fans of the sport or the same team, watch parties are the best way to do that.

To suggest that these viewers aren’t valid, even if they are just there because their favorite streamer is costreaming, is to ignore almost entirely the social aspect of watching sports.

Sports is social, esports is too, and every viewer is valid no matter who.

The thing is, esports isn’t a traditional sport. There are no pay-per-view games (usually), merch barely sells, there aren’t men breaking televisions when Team Liquid loses at a Counter-Strike major. Esports are nowhere near as big, which could explain why so many companies and publications focus on views. It’s like they are trying to prove that fans exist, that esports is growing. 

Because it needs to. 

Watch parties are super fun for esports fans who don’t feel so isolated in their fandom anymore. Maybe they even force their friends to go and see what it’s like. Maybe. And co-streaming is neat, temporarily boosting viewership and engagement as non-esports fans check out what’s going on because they want to see what their favorite streamer is yapping about. 

But again, these kinds of things shouldn’t really count as factual viewership numbers, especially if we want to pretend that the viewership increased. All viewers are valid as people. I hope they had a fun time checking it out. However, these viewership stats still don’t count for me if we are talking about strict data and attempting to prove esports is growing. Or getting watched at all. 

Claiming that the RLCS Boston Major was massive and counts as some Rocket League record is just silly. People see that and run with it, claiming that the game is growing and has all this potential. The reality? Those Jynxzi fans did not stick around. All it did was make the Paris Major look sorta like a failure when in reality the Boston Major was just a farce. Yes, those views did happen. But if we want to really look at how an esport is doing, it’s all skewed now. 

Remember when Ludwig said he wanted to have the “biggest” Rivals of Aether II tournament ever so he bought people’s tickets to get them to register? Same idea. It’s now the biggest one. Congrats. But it’s not real if we want to go by actual interest. Many of those people will drop out and do something else at Evo, which will actually negatively impact that bracket. You can argue that it’s “all in good fun” or that it’s “supporting community” or “getting people out there.” 

And I’d agree. But the interest is still fake. Those numbers are exaggerated. Those people are not clamoring to compete in Rivals of Aether. They are just supporting Ludwig, a streamer they like, and getting free tickets to an event. Some people even said on Reddit that they weren’t going to Evo at all. They were selected after signing up for the free three-day pass, but couldn’t actually get to Las Vegas. It’s all just a publicity stunt at the end of the day.

That “word-of-mouth” tactic inflated numbers for the weekend, but didn’t create an impactful number of fans that will stick around for the next one. 

Going by patterns, the next tournament will have waaay less registration. And very little viewership. And those are the numbers I’m going by. I’m not saying that Evo won’t be fun or that these guys with free tickets won’t fiddle around with the game. I’m saying that the true fighting game players are still quite low compared to the exaggerated hype. Do with that information what you will. 

But at the end of the day, co-streamer numbers don’t count when you’re trying to calculate esports’ actual growth and success. They only create temporary fun moments. 

You have asserted that co-streaming shouldn’t be considered real views that show a growing interest in an esport. Unfortunately, you have failed to provide a standard by which we can delineate “real” from “fake” co-streamers. If we have to choose between throwing out all the viewership data from co-streams, or keeping it all, we should err on the side of keeping it all.

In your response, you started by arguing that sports and esports differ in size, and that’s why focus on views matters more in esports than in sports. This is not true. Ratings for sports is a big discussion in traditional sports – views matter for both. 

Whether sports and esports are the same size is irrelevant to the question of whether or not we should count costreamer views as part of the valid viewership of an event. The goal of viewership data is to accurately represent the number of people who watched an event, period. If millions of viewers tuned in via costreamering instead of the official stream, regardless of who those costreamers are or their relationship to the esport, they should be counted to maintain the most accurate view count possible.

Sure, interpretation of that data from an intelligent person will take into account factors like Jynxi co-streaming the event, where the event was held, the time zone it was held in, the popularity of the teams that did well at the event, and more. Strong data analysis will easily control for outliers. But your suggestion isn’t that we should adjust our understanding of growth based on costreaming, your argument is that we should ignore costreaming data, because it is irrelevant to the question of whether an esports is growing or not.

This is analytically flawed.

Nothing you have said here in any way demonstrates that co-streaming views aren’t actual valid views. Given that many people who are watching co-streams would have watched the official stream if there was not a co-streamer watch partying the event, there is no way to fairly determine which viewers were just casuals passing through and which ones would have watched another streamer or the official stream, so throwing out all costreamer data doesn’t actually improve your understanding of the growth of the esport.

The thrust of your objection is that Jynxi watching a Rocket League event is an outlier, so it doesn’t speak to the growth of the esport generally. But the fact is, you have presented no criterion to decide which views should be thrown out and which ones should be kept. Viewership did go up because Jynxi watched, that’s factual. 

Going back to my previous example, should NFL viewership for Super Bowl LVll be thrown out because Travis Kelce brought Switfies out of the woodwork? After all, those Swifties won’t watch now that he retired, right? But the NFL had no issue bragging about its 113 million viewers who tuned in to watch.

Why should esports hold itself to an arbitrary standard, where we split hairs to determine which views are valid, when the biggest sports leagues in the world don’t?

Your entire discussion about the Ludwig drama is irrelevant to this topic. Nothing about it is about co-streamers or esports viewership, that is a discussion of a streamer who allegedly manipulated Evo’s rules to promote his game. Jynxi didn’t manipulate his view count, he didn’t engage in the inflation of views, he just co-streamed an event fair and square. The situations aren’t similar, and can’t be compared.

These are the facts. Co-streaming is here, it’s here to stay, and the views garnered for an event when an opinion leader co-streamed it are fair game to include when we discuss the event’s total viewership.

Correction: The Esports World Cup reached out to state it’s not funded by the PIF. The EWC is funded by the Esports Foundation, a Saudi Arabian non-profit. But the PIF is listed as the Esports Foundation’s parent organization.

On May 20th, the Esports World Cup (EWC) officially announced that it would move the $75m competition from its previous host, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, to Paris for its 2026 edition.

As with any news surrounding the EWC, this announcement was met with divisive reactions from the esports community due to the event’s ties to the Saudi Arabian government. However, a concerning portion of stakeholders, including France’s President Emmanuel Macron, have welcomed the change of location with excitement.

This is a reminder that the EWC is nothing but a sportswashing campaign carefully employed by the Saudi Arabian regime, while exploring why the move to Paris should not distract us from the human rights violations inflicted by its organizing parties.

The EWC wishes to be seen as the annual pinnacle of esports competition, a welcoming event that entertains fans, supports esports organizations with funding, and unites countless titles and stakeholders under a single IP— a true gift to our financially struggling industry.

Another fact about the EWC is that it’s organized and funded by the same person who ordered the assassination of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in 2018.

Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince and Prime Minister, His Royal Highness Prince Mohammed bin Salman bin Abdulaziz, first announced the EWC in October 2023. The event was established alongside the Esports World Cup Foundation, a non-profit organization responsible for the EWC. Now called the Esports Foundation, this organization was founded by the Saudi Arabian Crown Prince and is directly funded by the country’s Public Investment Fund (PIF).

The PIF is also the main driver of Saudi Arabia’s “Vision 2030” plan, which aims to position the country as a center for esports and gaming by 2030, in an effort to reduce its financial dependence on crude oil production. As early as 2022, this investment strategy was identified as sportswashing by The Guardian’s Karim Zidan. 

Popularized by Amnesty International, sportswashing describes the use of sports by oppressive regimes to mend their reputations and distract from their human rights violations. In the case of Saudi Arabia, we’re talking about the oppression of women and members of the LGBTQIA+ community, the persecution of regime critics, and the systematic exploitation of migrant workers.

For the sake of improved global business relationships and a flourishing tourism industry, Saudi Arabia would rather be associated with fun sports and entertainment activities in the eyes of Western consumers and policymakers.

If you wish to further inform yourself on Saudi Arabia’s “esportswashing” campaign and the accompanying ethical concerns, I encourage you to watch the video “Saudi Arabia is poisoning esports: We SHOULD Care.” by esports on-air talent Josh “Sideshow” Wilkinson.

“From the very beginning, the vision for the Esports World Cup has been to be a truly global platform for esports, bringing the world’s biggest celebration of competitive gaming to major cities around the world over time,” stated the EWC when announcing Paris as its new host location.

“Following an extended evaluation process in light of the current regional situation, the Esports Foundation decided to accelerate that international rotation for the 2026 edition.”

That sounds very different from the wording used for the event’s reveal three years ago: “The Esports World Cup is the natural next step in Saudi Arabia’s journey to become the premier global hub for gaming and esports.”

Although the move to Paris was most likely due to the ongoing war in Iran, the Esports Foundation (EF) seems to be determined to present the change in the most flattering light possible. Not everyone might believe the EF’s framing, but some are certainly excited to welcome another sizeable esports event to Europe. Others have even commended the French government for its public support of the EWC.

“Great examples of why France is an esports leader. Macron announces EWC, with government support to sort visas etc.,” commented esports professional Jeff Simpkins on X (formerly Twitter). “We need more of this in the UK at the government level.”

So, at the expense of losing some of its strong public association with Riyadh, the EWC positions its brand closer to the values and public image of Western countries and further away from Saudi Arabia’s human rights record.

“Long term, it’s probably neutral,” esports journalist Arsh Goyal told Esports Insider in regard to this trade-off.

“It legitimizes EWC as a long-term tournament for esports fans and will probably bring more viewers, but that’s only if the event continues to exist in future years and goes back to Riyadh. With PIF pulling out of several of its titles, it’s possible that EWC will go away entirely.” 

Most importantly, though, none of this changes the organizational structure of the EWC or the violence inflicted by the Saudi regime. EWC funding remains drenched in blood. It’s just that the trail now leads to a more romantic setting. Some have argued that the move to Paris could benefit the queer community. LGBTQIA+ athletes might feel safer when attending the EWC in France instead of a country where being queer is illegal. 

However, as pointed out by Goyal: “The dangers to queer competitors were always very minimal. The whole point is for Saudi Arabia to paint a westernized image of themselves, so they’ll do anything for golf, esports, etc competitors from overseas to be as safe as possible.”

“In all of our conversations with parties in the region, our thoughts and opinions on all of these topics have been met with respect. There’s been a dialogue with an interest in learning about our perspective and thoughts,” explained Team Liquid Founder and Co-CEO, Victor Goossens, ahead of the organization’s EWC participation in 2024.

“These conversations have been approached with a willingness to talk about how a path forward might look like. And partially because of that, we believe that we have a small role to play to ensure that esports is and will be for everyone.”

One year later, journalist Mikhail Klimentov reported that Team Liquid’s support for the LGBTQIA+ community in an EWC documentary had been allegedly censored for Saudi Arabian viewers. The country’s Crown Prince knows well how to play both sides: feign a willingness to learn externally, while doubling down on persecution and death penalties within Saudi Arabia’s borders.

If you aren’t yet convinced that the current regime has no interest in learning from esports stakeholders on human rights and inclusion, allow me to cite Amnesty International’s 2025 report on the country: “Saudi Arabia executed the highest number of people on record in any given year. People were put to death for a wide range of crimes, including drug-related offenses, often involving foreign nationals.

“Women continued to face discrimination in law and practice. Saudi Arabia failed to take adequate measures to realize the right to a healthy environment.”

Not only are notable improvements unlikely to be induced by esports organizations. I also fear that Saudi Arabia’s sportswashing tactics have already taken root within our industry. For instance, the country’s first attempt to partner with Riot Games’ LEC was canceled due to immense fan backlash. Five years later, the EWC’s deal with Riot Games for all the publisher’s esports titles went through. 

I am deeply concerned that with Saudi Arabia’s increasing influence in the esports ecosystem and a growing acceptance of this influence from esports stakeholders, diversity and inclusion advancements in our scene could become jeopardized. 

We have already seen warning signs in this regard, for example, the removal of the “Journalist of the Year” category from the Esports Awards following its partnership with the EWC.

If neither silent compliance nor an open dialogue with Saudi leaders will slow down the billion-dollar sportwashing campaign, what can we do to make a difference? 

As with most topics surrounding the EWC, this question has divided the esports community. Boycotting seems to be the obvious “solution” at first glance. However, the blood money offered by the event is difficult for both esports organizations and broadcast talent to decline. An industry that bleeds money is incredibly susceptible to sportswashing.

Interestingly, in his article “EWC is here to stay, but sportswashing hasn’t won,” Arsh Goyal proposed that critical EWC coverage could be even more impactful than a complete boycott. 

“I think a full boycott that ignores the event or pretends it doesn’t exist still segregates the community,” shared the journalist with Esports Insider. “Coverage that tries its best to color the EWC with the darkness of its true intentions is probably still the most effective.”

Similarly, charity streams and fundraisers held by esports stakeholders during the EWC can serve as “a reminder to all viewers that the Saudi regime is trying to paint an image that you should not accept,” according to Goyal.

With the PIF seemingly drying up, there is a real possibility that fans and professionals can withstand Saudi Arabia’s sportswashing efforts until the EWC disappears from the annual esports calendar entirely.