Why I'm Steering Away from the Gaming Industry
In literally every one of my interviews, I am asked the same question: "Why do you want to steer away from the gaming industry?" The full answer is hard to convey to someone outside the industry, so in this blog, I will try to explain it.
The short answer is that the gaming industry is brutally demanding. It offers two worlds. The first is very passionate; every part of the process is art, from game design to development, sound, and pixels. But living in this world as a means to earn money carries immense risk, much like being a fine artist.
So, a huge majority of people live in the second world. How do they reduce risk? By researching until a game design document resembles a market research report. Everything is statistics. Everything is tested. Often, the focus shifts away from quality or originality; the only thing that matters is market response. In return, this can damage the feeling of ownership, because it feels like you made the game the reports wanted, not the game you envisioned.
While games are incredibly profitable, this is often the result of passionate people behind the scenes. Sometimes companies treat these people with respect to create art; other times, they view passion as a resource to be exploited. This approach is profitable, but it impacts both employees and players.
This environment is where "dark patterns" are born. If the goal is solely to maximize profit, the first step is often creating addictive loops—not to make people "play," but to maximize the chance of selling something. Selling is not bad in itself; everybody needs to sell something. The issue arises when we exploit psychology to create artificial needs, making players spend money they wouldn't otherwise. While these techniques appear everywhere, I believe their effects in gaming are at much greater levels. This is a growing topic, and even at the Gamescom Congress this year, there was a trend to educate the public and developers about these patterns.
For the people working on games, the situation is complex. Games are fun, and making them is fun. This attracts many talented people who can solve complex problems. However, they often get locked inside the industry because of the specificity of game engines and workflows. There is also a sunk cost fallacy: having invested so much in learning specific tools, you don't want to start over, even if you are no longer satisfied creatively.
When there is a high supply of passionate workers, profit maximization can lead to difficult working conditions. Why pay top dollar when so many people are willing to work for passion? Years ago, this was balanced by high ownership and fulfillment. But as the industry has evolved into a more rigid business perspective, I am finding it harder to see the positives in that specific environment.
Moving into a personal note: I am still an idealist. I still believe I can make money by helping or entertaining people without relying on dark patterns. This view makes me an outlier in the current gaming landscape, and perhaps in other industries too. As a co-founder of my HTML5 start-up, every new project presented a dilemma. Should I loosen my principles to optimize success, or stick to my dream of making games I would want to play? Would I develop a gambling game? It pays amazingly. Would I exploit behavioral weaknesses to drain players financially? Most people in HTML5 games will get this offer at least once.
I said no. While I do not regret it, the outcome was difficult. We prioritized our vision, and eventually, we ceased operations. We made many games—some external work to sustain ourselves (common in indie studios), and some original titles that never quite hit the revenue mark. It was a combination of product fit and the luck required in an incredibly saturated field. In the end, we closed the studio. It was fun to work with my co-founders, but considering the stress and the financial risk, it was not sustainable. As long as I cannot find a company that shares my views on ethical design, I will look outside this industry. I will likely continue making games as a hobby, but for my career, I want to make people's lives better and get paid fairly for my efforts.
There is a line you need to walk. You can take exploitative directions to increase profit in the short term, but there are inspirations showing it is possible to be successful without them. It requires being exceptionally good (and usually, getting help—you cannot do it alone). I want to name the companies I admire: Supergiant Games, Larian Studios, and Sandfall Interactive. These studios touched me emotionally, proving that ethical, high-quality games can win.
P.S. 1: These views do not reflect the working environment of my previous employers. They were clear on expectations and offered transparency from the very first interview, which I appreciate.
P.S. 2: For the company I co-founded, I thank our investor for giving us creative and executive freedom. He never made us feel bad even after we closed the studio, which was the best case for a hard scenario.