While hurtling down a long straight at Silverstone with the chasing pack trailing your car's dazzling speed, the occasion may afford a glance around the environment that reaches further than the track ahead. What do you see? Enjoying a 5-0 lead against Chelsea in the FA Cup Final with only a few minutes of regulation time remaining, you relax enough to absorb the stadium's sweeping splendour. What do you see? Bounding stealthily with your assault team through a shadowy, terrorist-infested subway station, you take a moment to reload your smoking MP5 and gather your bearings. What do you see? In all three cases you see hoardings, billboard posters, and illuminated product commercials.

Yet, as gamers, we tolerate what we see. And why not? Trackside hoardings for sponsors directly linked to official games such as TOCA or Formula 1 are part of the realism package. Indeed, we'd likely question the game's authenticity if they weren't there. The same applies to sporting titles like FIFA, especially as simulation games of any kind lend themselves willingly to acceptable commercial exploitation for the sake of a more rounded experience. Billboards on the platform of a train station or in urban streets also (barely) scrape through the safety net of toleration in titles such as Ghost Recon, S.W.A.T, Rainbow Six, etc., where realism is also of paramount importance to the overall sense of environmental believability. But collectively these types of videogames are in an advantageous position concerning content that thereby allows for the profit-boosting addition of commercials.

But what of those games that are not in such a position? We'll never see billboard commercials for modern products on the streets of a bombed-out town in the next or Medal of Honor. And we'd never accept them. Other than shattering the historic immersion factor, it would be undoubtedly tasteless for publishers and developers to (further) exploit World War II by bastardising it in terms of unbridled profit hoarding - the same can be said of any war game. Similarly, genre giants such as and Half-Life, which exist in narratives beyond the realms of our own universe, would lose masses of appeal and credibility if tainted by 21st century advertising. Can anyone seriously imagine trying to ignore corridor billboards for everyday products while facing waves of heretic-mashing Covenant aboard the Truth and Reconciliation? No, thought not.

Videogames are a massive financial oil well and, from an advertising point of view, they're largely untapped. With an that rakes in yearly revenue in the tens of billions of dollars - outstripping Hollywood - it's perhaps only natural to expect publishers to welcome the advances of gleeful product advertisers to ensure continued profit from somewhere other than units on shelves. But how will the imagination and creativity behind the likes of Halo and thrive and expand in a market where gaming is slowly edging toward commercial infiltration and in-game ads may soon be a prerequisite evaluation at the pitch? And even if futuristic and wildly innovative games escape in-game ads, are we, the consumers, to suffer the same indignities we presently experience with our gaming websites? Should we expect gratingly dull adverts for completely unrelated products to replace load screens? Will we have to sit through cloying commercials for major soft drink brands or burger chains before saving progress? And are we to be bombarded with incessantly annoying pop-ups that partially cover central navigation menus? Surely there's no other way to integrate the product placement without dumping it directly into the game. And don't think it's not happening, because it is.

Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory is a superb game. Its stealth-imbued narrative, characters and in-game environments (though shrouded in shadow) are thoroughly of this world and this time. Adding a carefully positioned and well-lit billboard within the realms of realism isn't unacceptable to the gaming masses - but blatant product placement is. What a shock to the system it is when, during a beautifully rendered FMV sequence segueing missions, a peripheral character offers Sam Fisher a piece of chewing gum. And it's not generic gum. No, it's an extremely recognisable brand with ridiculously bright packaging that's the visual equivalent of a wet fish about the chops amid all the subtly applied atmospherics. Later, just as the enveloping covert gameplay is beginning to wipe away any odorous memories of ill-placed gum advertising... up it pops again during another FMV sequence. This time it's lying idly (but well lit) in a close-up shot of a work surface that plays no relevant part in the sequence. The inclusion of such shameless product placement is shattering to the game's suspension of disbelief, and its garish images are carried from the game. So, a successfully executed advertising opportunity for the gum makers in question, and a somewhat sullied experience for the player.

In-game advertising is here, and it's here to stay. Of course, some could argue that the gamer may well have access to an options menu where the ads could be open to instant removal, much like EA's musical Trax feature - which is best saved for a 'Marketing' diatribe. Yet it's difficult to accept that brand labels will gladly hand over revenue to game publishers when their product may never be seen. The only question now remaining is just how much of our industry will slide down the pan of dignity as a result? Videogames are already in a rut of stagnation concerning soulless franchise sequels, spiralling quality, and a general lack of progressive innovation. Then there's the trend of huge corporate entities assimilating smaller creative teams and further quelling any possible bloom of originality. With the likelihood of a commercial onslaught to the industry now rising menacingly over the horizon, we as gamers must face the facts: games set in the past or future may not receive a green light based on a lack of accessible commercial opportunity, and as publishers come to rely more and more on advertising revenue against unit sales, the consumers will only be further ignored in favour of the safe haven of swollen profit margins.

By Stevie Mostyn