VTV3 speaks out about Esports law and organization system after penalties for Himass and TanVuu

For the first time in a long while, a penalty in PUBG did not stay inside the closed groups of gamers. VTV3 brought the story of Himass and TanVuu to national television, and from that moment, the case was no longer about two players alone. This has become a story about how an esports system treats the very people who create its appeal. When Krafton banned two Vietnamese players from all global PUBG tournaments, the wave of protest quickly reached 4.1 million digital signatures demanding justice. But I do not want to begin with that number. I want to begin with the question VTV3 asked: What exactly did these two players violate?

That question may sound simple, but it goes to the heart of the matter. VTV3 did not declare Himass and TanVuu innocent. Nor did it convict them. The broadcaster simply asked for one thing: show the public what they violated, under which rule, and how the disciplinary process unfolded. This approach reveals that the issue is not only about the outcome of the penalty, but about how the penalty was reached. A disciplinary system without transparency makes every ruling suspicious, even when the ruling may be correct.

The context makes the matter even more urgent. Himass and TanVuu were banned from all global PUBG tournaments. That is the heaviest sanction a PUBG player can face, because it cuts off the entire path to international competition. What drew even more attention is that the ban also covers showmatch tournaments, exhibition events with far less competitive weight than official tournaments. The players' management teams filed appeals, but who will decide those appeals? If the answer remains Krafton, then the appeal is only a request for review by the same party that issued the penalty.

The central issue lies in the structure of power. Krafton is the publisher of PUBG. Krafton writes the rules. Krafton organizes the tournaments. Krafton also issues the verdict when disputes arise. I call this the three-in-one governance model. Traditional sports usually separate these roles. Football has national federations, league organizers, disciplinary committees, and sports arbitration bodies. That separation is not perfect, but it creates a check on power. When power is concentrated in one actor, fairness becomes difficult to prove.

When the publisher is simultaneously the rule-maker, the tournament organizer, and the judge, esports has no real referee, only a trial organized by one party. This is not an accusation aimed only at Krafton. It is the structural consequence of many modern esports titles, where the publisher holds all power, from operating the game to issuing disciplinary rulings. When a publisher hands down a penalty, it also acts as the guardian of its own tournament image. That does not mean it deliberately rules unfairly, but it does mean it cannot appear as a fully neutral party.

A transparent process matters more than the final verdict. A good disciplinary system does not necessarily produce a result that favors the players. A good disciplinary system is one that makes people believe the process leading to the result is fair. The public can accept a harsh ruling if they see the case file. They cannot accept a ruling wrapped in silence. That is why the question of procedure becomes more important than the question of guilt.

The legal vacuum around esports in Vietnam is also part of the story. Esports has been recognized as a sport in Vietnam, and the first ASIAD esports medal is proof of its growth. But formal recognition is one thing; the capacity to handle disputes is another. When two players are punished by a foreign publisher, which domestic body can they turn to for protection? The answer is unclear. That gap allows the publisher to become the final authority. Football players can appeal to a federation and then to the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Esports players usually have no equivalent choice. They are bound inside the ecosystem of the publisher.

VTV3 speaks out in this context, and that is the greatest value of the broadcast. A national broadcaster has turned a story about two gamers into a debate about institutions. This creates pressure for all parties to reconsider their behavior. The publisher may not change overnight, but when public opinion begins to ask questions about process, future penalties will have to be more careful. Being careful does not mean being lenient. It means being required to prepare a case file, to explain clearly, and to give the punished side a chance to be heard.

The showmatch detail also deserves attention. When a ban covers even a showmatch, it raises a question of proportionality. A showmatch is usually an exhibition. The stakes are lower. The rules may be less strict. If the same standard is applied to every level, players can never be sure what is safe. This ambiguity is not uncommon in esports, where publishers write and adjust their own rules. The case of Himass and TanVuu has turned that ambiguity into a national debate.

The wave of 4.1 million signatures is powerful, but it is not proof. It is a reflection of public distrust toward an opaque system more than a verdict on the facts. The two players are influential figures, and their fans protect an image they believe in. This creates an enormous emotional stake in the outcome. Yet we still do not know exactly what was violated. We do not know how the investigation was conducted. Rushing to a conclusion now could create a second injustice.

The Vietnamese esports community is large and passionate. Mainstream media is now paying attention. This is an opportunity to build a more transparent governance framework. A discussion about an independent appeal board, a player representative body, or a minimum standard for publisher discipline could begin from this controversy. The result of the penalty may change or not. But the question will remain: are we willing to build a system in which the publisher is not the only final voice? The answer will shape the future of Vietnamese esports more than any title.