VTV3 speaks out about Esports law and organization system after penalties for Himass and TanVuu: When the publisher writes the rules and acts as referee

When VTV3 raised the question: "What exactly did Himass and TanVuu violate, and was Krafton's process transparent?", the wave of 4.1 million digital signatures from the Vietnamese PUBG community stopped being a private matter for two players. This is the first time a national television channel has officially brought an esports governance story into its news program, and it immediately moved beyond the boundaries of a single tournament.

The story began when Krafton, the publisher of PUBG, announced penalties banning Himass and TanVuu from all global PUBG tournaments. No one knew exactly which rule they had broken. VTV3 did not condemn them, nor did it defend them; it asked questions about the law and the organizational system. That ambiguity from the publisher is what pushed 4.1 million fans to sign a petition demanding answers. As someone who has sat on both sides of the esports table, both as a player and as an organizer, I see this story is no longer only about the right or wrong of two individuals. It touches a structural fault line of the whole industry.

Context: a global ban inside a system without a federation

VTV3 directly addressed esports law and the organizational system. According to the report, esports currently has no unified national federation like football or athletics. Power lies with the publisher: Krafton writes the rules, organizes tournaments, and issues penalties. When disputes arise, there is no neutral body to arbitrate.

The ban applies to "all global PUBG tournaments," the heaviest scope short of a permanent ban. The managing teams of Himass and TanVuu have filed appeals. VTV3 stressed a principle: the handling process must be clear and consistent, even for a showmatch tournament. This detail opens a question of proportionality: a penalty designed for the official tournament system may not fit when applied to a showmatch. The context matters even more because Vietnam has just won its first esports medal in Asian Games history. Domestic media expect a boost for esports, but the Himass - TanVuu case shows governance infrastructure remains the weakest link.

Core analysis: three governance flaws

The first issue is structural conflict of interest. In traditional sports, a national or international federation acts as an independent governing body separate from clubs and sponsors. Football has FIFA, AFC, and VFF. Esports does not. In PUBG, Krafton is simultaneously the game creator, the tournament operator, and the sanctioning authority. When one side both plays and referees, and also writes its own rulebook, skepticism is inevitable no matter how correct the decision may be. This explains why the community reacts so strongly whenever a controversial ban appears: they are not doubting one individual; they are doubting the entire system.

The second flaw is the showmatch gray zone. The "showmatch" detail exposes a gap. If the punishment applies to an exhibition match, was the showmatch rulebook published in advance? In many Asian esports scenes, showmatches are treated as semi-formal events with looser rules. But when the penalty carries a "global" scope, the proportionality between the violation and the sanction becomes extremely difficult to assess. If a player is banned worldwide because of an incident in an exhibition match, and no specific rule has been disclosed, then anyone has the right to ask: where is the real boundary?

The third flaw is the appeal process. The managing teams of Himass and TanVuu have appealed, but to whom? If the appeal process still sits inside Krafton, then the one who issued the penalty is also the one who reviews it. This does not automatically mean Krafton is unfair, but it violates a basic procedural principle: no one should be the judge in their own case. This is exactly the gap VTV3 wants to expose. No federation, no independent referee, no published rulebook to check against. Every ruling operates under the publisher's internal logic.

From a sports business perspective, I always look at the long-term value of players before looking at the scoreboard. Fans believe in tactics; I believe in payroll, and in this case, in the rulebook. But the bigger lesson is about brand value. A player can lose eligibility to compete, but may not lose the brand equity built earlier. The value of a player equals the sum of everything no one dares to price. Himass and TanVuu are receiving 4.1 million supporting signatures; that number is both pressure and proof of the community value they hold. If the ban is upheld, the financial damage will come from losing tournament access, but their media value remains.

Every scandal is a stream of money flowing to the wrong place. In this case, the misallocated money is not in a transfer deal or a sponsorship contract; it is in the system. Sponsorship money, broadcasting money, and commercial value all operate under one concentrated authority. When power is concentrated, capital flows become distorted, and the last people to absorb the consequences are always players and fans. VTV3 did not talk about money, but every decision about rules, penalties, and appeals translates into money: prize money, salaries, and brand value.

Following PUBG since my days as a player and tournament organizer, I have learned that emerging markets like Vietnam often grow their fan base very quickly, but their governance systems develop much more slowly. Vietnam just earned its first ASIAD medal and has a PUBG community large enough to gather 4.1 million signatures. Those are two valuable assets. The third asset, a transparent and independent management structure, is missing. A medal brings prestige; only good governance can keep that prestige alive.

Contrarian view: signatures do not replace case files

But we also need a contrarian view. The community is acting as if the penalty is wrong, while the content of the violation has not been disclosed. 4.1 million signatures create enormous pressure, but signatures do not replace case files. If Krafton later publishes evidence showing the penalty is fully justified, the current wave of "demanding justice" could turn into a storm against the very people who signed.

VTV3 did the right thing by not taking sides with Himass and TanVuu, and not taking sides with Krafton either. They only asked the publisher to answer two questions: what was violated, and how was the process handled. This is the attitude of a mature media outlet that knows how to separate an individual story from a systemic one. If VTV3 had chosen emotion, the case would quickly become an endless media war. Instead, they chose the legal angle, and that elevates the debate to a higher level.

The second risk is turning the matter into a Vietnam - South Korea confrontation. When famous streamers like Độ Mixi and PewPew speak up, and when reports say a player cried and deleted the game, emotions can easily escalate. But the core issue is governance, not nationality. This concentrated governance model exists in most major esports titles around the world, because no international federation is strong enough to step in as referee.

Takeaway: the bill for a system without a federation

If the ban is upheld, it is the bill for a system without a federation. If the appeal succeeds, it becomes the first push for Krafton to publish clearer rules. Either way, the question VTV3 raised has opened the door to reform. Every historic sports moment comes with a bill someone has to pay. For Vietnamese PUBG, the bill has just been printed, and the fans are the ones holding it.