There's also a pining for lost power built into it, I think.
The oldest game journos remember a time when they were kingmakers. If it wasn't a big publisher, it was they who decided who'd become famous and who'd fade into obscurity. If something they didn't like wanted to make it big, they'd just give it the bare minimum amount of air, or drum up a hit piece and strike it down.
Back then, the internet didn't really exist for many kids, not as a space where games could be discussed. For a time, gaming magazines were the sole deciders of what the popular opinions in gaming were supposed to be, and you and your three friends (who were totally kids your age and not two pedos and an FBI agent) on the Gamin' Kidz Forums couldn't out-argue them.
So all the gaming news outlets had to compete with was each other. And with no way to judge their respective quality, what mattered most was speed and efficiency. Reviewers had to make sure their review was on store shelves the same week a game came out, no matter what. If they failed to get their opinion out, by the next cycle they'd be old news. Didn't matter how much they were actually a good fit for the games, either.
The advent of internet videos caused new voices to rise. The change was slow, at first. Some pasty-skinned, bespectacled nerd uploaded a video on castlevania 2. It was blurry as shit, his voice was flat and boring, half his complaints would get laughed out today, and it was decades out of date... but it was done all by himself. A one-man band, at least at first, and it was up and public where anyone could see it. He'd follow it up with different games, week after week, and slowly, people would turn their eyes to him.
Others would see what he was doing on his own, and try their own hand at it. They'd review anything that sat on their shelves, whether that be Rascal Racers or Daikatana, or they'd make a top ten list of Creepy video game characters or revolvers or weird zelda characters. Slowly, by reviewing these things, people would come to understand their perspectives, and they'd grow fanbases, building up steam.
They weren't all, either. As technology improved, other types threw their hats in the ring. Videos went from being restricted to reviews by bandwidth, to being full let's plays showing games from start to finish. People would upload videos of them beating dark souls with ridiculous builds, or without equipment, or with or on donkey kong bongo controls. Comics and animations would point out the absurdity of even the most minor mechanics. One guy would describe that weird mechanic you'd always wondered about, then other guys would take that knowledge and use it to break a game in half and get from start to credits in minutes.
All of a sudden, one thing became clear: the success of mainstream journalists was almost arbitrary, based on qualities entirely divorced from what gamers wanted. the ability to sound like they knew what they were talking about or stroke the right egos, rather than a deep understanding of and skill at the games they reviewed. In fact, as they stumbled after the jontrons and caddicaruses and markipliers into the digital space, it became clear they were often shockingly amateurish. The indies could play better, play longer, play deeper - they weren't constrained by the limits of deadlines yet could even get videos out faster. And while they weren't above having biases, it had become clear that the mainstream could be bought and sold just as easily - especially bought in bulk. Those with the integrity to look someone in the eyes and tell them that their game sucks were swiftly given the boot at a corporation, but hailed as heroes in the indie space. Plus, if you didn't like a given guy's tastes, you'd just find someone more agreeable instead.
As we came up to gamergate, it was already becoming clear that Gaming journalism as a formal instituion was deeply flawed. And gamergate itself revealed two things with crystal clarity: not only were many institutions deeply corrupt, they were all willing to circle the wagons for each other. For many it was the straw that broke the camel's back, the moment they went from "they're flawed but they're my usual haunt" to "fuck these assholes with a rusty crowbar".
They've thrown their weight around plenty of times since on the industry side, but it's only become more clear over time that the subtle powers they once enjoyed over the customers is long gone. They've lost the ability to play kingmaker, to shape gaming opinions, to surface and drown games as they see fit. Nobody, nobody trusts them anymore. And when they try to spark a boycott, they prove completely, utterly powerless.
They've had a longer tail with their industry internal sway, but the only reason they had that is because they were supposed to have the hearts and minds of customers. And every time they fail to swing a game's success - every Veilguard or Where the Water tastes like wine that flops, every hogwarts or wukong that succeeds despite their ire - they prove that trusting their sense of the market is a simple death wish.
This is why you'll always find them fixating on the figurehead youtubers of general rejections. Those are the ones who stole their positions. Those are the ones who might genuinely be able to bury someone with a smear campaign. Any journalist would kill to get something like Markiplier's Iron Lung off the ground, to be that successful and beloved. They'd raid, rob and rape for the power of Josh from Let's Game it out. They'll forever pine for the power they lost... but that power is there's no longer.