Everyone enjoys having a pop at those who run certain aspects of our lives. Whether it's the Daily Mail using statistics as a stick to beat a Labour government with, or hip journalists and software publishing executives who waded into trade body ELSPA six years ago this week when it unveiled its Voluntary Age Rating symbols for games software.

"The design is pants," they said (or would have done, had 'pants' been in use as a derogatory term at the time). "If we're going to have voluntary symbols on games then they should be more like the BBFC symbols, not a boring collection of ticks." Others even questioned the need for a voluntary scheme at all. There was a need though. The (Conservative) government of the day were looking very closely at the games industry or, more to the point, the coverage it was getting in certain tabloids. Remember, these were the days when the talk in the playgrounds was predominately about how to pull off the finishing moves in Mortal Kombat - hearts yanked from bodies, decapitation complete with attached spine, for instance.

So concerned was the government that it set up the Home Affairs Committee Enquiry to look at computer games and it concluded: "There is widespread concern about the pornographic - including grossly violent - video and computer games and the impact that such games may have on children. It may be that classification of videogames should be reconsidered to prevent altogether their hire and sale to children."

The key phrase is that last sentence, which suggested that children wouldn't be able to buy or hire games at all, and this in an industry dominated by the SNES and Mega Drive. The effects of such legislation would have probably wiped out the UK games industry altogether (the 20-something PlayStation owners were still chasing girls and saving up for souped-up SRi Novas at this time), so ELSPA, as the UK trade body, had to do something. If a voluntary scheme hadn't been introduced, a mandatory one would have been.