I was three tabs deep into Steam when a headline stopped me cold: Valve pulled in $11 billion (≈ €10.1 billion) in the first half of 2026. For a company that makes almost nothing and sells almost everything else, that number reads like a revelation you both expected and secretly feared. You can feel the market tilting when the platform that does the least keeps winning the most.
I’ll keep this short and blunt: Tom’s Hardware, citing Alinea Analytics, reports Steam’s gross sales jumped about 14.5 percent year-over-year for H1 2026. That growth isn’t magic—it’s the sum of viral indies, rebundled back catalogues, rising prices, and an enormous wave of players in China. I want to explain where that money came from, why older games suddenly matter more than new releases, and what it means for you as a buyer or a developer.
On any sale day you can see catalogs stacked like grocery shelves. Steam’s back catalog is doing the heavy lifting and it shows in the numbers.
Only 21 percent of Steam’s revenue in H1 2026 came from games released this year, down from 27 percent in H1 2025 and 29 percent in H1 2024. That’s not nostalgia alone. Publishers flood the store with discounted backlogs during platform-wide publisher sales, and players respond. I’ve bought the Dishonored pair during one of those sales and found them more satisfying than most new buys in the last year.
How much revenue does Steam make?
Short answer: a lot—$11 billion (≈ €10.1 billion) in six months, according to analyses cited by Tom’s Hardware and Alinea Analytics. That figure bundles full-price releases, discounted sales, DLC, and microtransactions across millions of users. For perspective, that’s revenue on the scale of a small national GDP, and Valve’s cut from third-party sales makes the marketplace incredibly lucrative without the overhead of a huge publishing roster.
I watched a friend rave about a viral indie and thought, that’s where the next big spike will be. Viral indies and Chinese player growth turned Steam into a launchpad and a cash register at once.
Take Meccha Chameleon: a breakout that shipped over 15 million copies in weeks. Viral hits like that feed revenue spikes while publishers pad earnings with legacy sales. Alinea’s data points to a substantial uptick in Chinese users—where more than 90 percent play on PC—which amplifies volume and skews the mix toward titles that already exist on Steam.
Higher list prices matter too. With many AAA releases pricing at $80 (≈ €74), the math pushes players toward older, cheaper options during seasonal sales. Steam becomes the obvious place to buy decades of games cheaply and reliably, and Valve sits back like a toll booth on the internet highway, collecting fees without doing the heavy lifting.
My friends ditching discs is a small signal with a loud echo. Valve’s hands-off posture keeps customers happy and competitors busy inventing ways to copy it.
Valve does very little and still wins. Steam’s combination of a massive install base, frequent discounts, and consumer-facing features (refunds, wish lists, cloud saves) makes it the safest harbor for PC users—especially those escaping console ecosystems as physical media decline on PlayStation and elsewhere. Publishers and platform rivals like Epic or GOG can compete, but the network effects run deep.
Why are older games selling more on Steam?
Because old games are cheaper, often better designed, and get discovered again through sales, creators’ bundles, and social virality. Lower friction to buy, plus pricing pressure from $80 titles, nudges players toward classics. That pattern flips consumer attention and revenue away from fresh releases and into legacy libraries.
I used to worry this meant the market was broken, but the pattern now looks like a machine spinning profits from existing assets. That machine keeps compounding returns in obvious ways.
Between publisher sales, viral indie hits, and a surge of new PC players in China, Steam’s model creates repeated payoff. A single breakout title can act as a gateway; a discounted catalog pulls lapsed players back into purchases; higher-priced new releases steer bargain hunters toward older offerings. The result is growth that behaves like a slow-burning snowball—small choices stacking into enormous momentum.
Is Steam still worth using?
If you care about variety, frictionless refunds, and a gigantic library—yes. If you’re a developer, the platform’s reach is irresistible but increasingly crowded; discoverability tools, community pages, and publisher promotions matter more than ever. Names like Valve, Epic, and publishers’ storefront strategies will shape whether you sell or get lost.
Valve’s model is simple: host the exchange, skim the fee, and let viral phenomena and old favorites do the heavy lifting. You can chase the next $80 (≈ €74) AAA release or you can go hunting in the sales bin where value and quality often live—so which side are you on?