My first job in the game industry – a contract assistant design position – consisted of six months of heavy crunch on a project that was overdue and over budget.
It ended in a no-notice layoff that eliminated not just my position, but the entire team, including veteran producers and engineers.
Welcome to the game industry!
Since that gig, I’ve been one of the lucky ones. Not including my own ventures, I’ve worked as a full-time employee for five other companies. I left three on my own terms, for better or different career opportunities. A fourth company cut me loose, but I’d already been eyeing the exit. And the fifth ended in a well-known industry tale – Microsoft’s shutdown of Ensemble.
All in all, compared to folks who have been through a never-ending string of layoffs and studio closure, I’ve been extremely fortunate.
But regardless of how I’ve left a studio – whether by my choice or someone else’s – those moments are always bittersweet.
Game developers invest tons of passion in their work. I’ve seldom met anyone in the industry who’s there just to collect a paycheck. The game industry is a creative, highly charged field where, when everything’s clicking, a team develops tight bonds as they strive toward a collective goal.
Not surprisingly, employers leverage that passion – often positively, to help teams do amazing things, but sometimes negatively, to encourage crunch or acceptance of bad development practices.
They know good developers go “all in.”
But should you? Or is it possible that by tempering your all-consuming passion to make games… you’ll make better games?
Read on.
The Design Meeting: Back Away Slowly
Design meetings can be brutal.
Different designers come at problems from different angles, informed by their own experiences and preferences. They often feel like they alone see the correct solution – and if they could find the right way to explain it, everyone would see it too.
Good companies find ways to manage design meetings so they stay respectful and productive. But even when a meeting is efficiently run, it’s common for someone to feel let down by the final decision.
The source of disagreements may be small – perhaps a UI tweak or a balance adjustment – but over the course of a two-year project, the aggregate of small disappointments can add up, leaving a designer feeling burned out and unsatisfied with the final product.
In reality, so much of what makes a game great is subjective. It’s in moments like these where it pays to take a breath and ratchet back the passion.
Look around the room. More importantly, listen. Everyone wants to make the best product possible. What are they seeing that you’re not?
Being a strong advocate for an approach to a design problem is valuable, but it’s easy to fall in love with a single solution – to become so invested that you’re unable to see alternate paths.
I’m not arguing that everyone’s ideas have equal value. Experience, judgement, and raw design talent all come into play. There may in fact be a best solution on the table – whether it’s yours or someone else’s.
But the best way for a group to collectively figure out the best answer is to stay objective and clear-headed, and set aside the ideal version of the game that’s in their hearts.
The Departure: No Regrets
I mentioned that bittersweet feelings I’ve felt when I’ve left a company. Anyone who’s been in the industry for a while knows what I’m talking about.
There’s always the sense that something was left undone. Maybe you didn’t finish shipping a product. Maybe you’re sad about leaving friends that you’ve worked so closely with. Maybe it’s as simple and mercenary as feeling regret that you left stock options on the table after working so hard on a company’s products for years.
Even when the departure is the path you chose, it’s a loss. You were invested in a company’s success, and now you’re not – but passion isn’t a light switch you can flip on and off.
Remember this feeling of loss when you start your next position. It’s seductive to want to go all-in again out of the gate, especially when you’re in the honeymoon phase of your new job. “This studio gets it RIGHT,” you think. “This is what I was missing! I’m going to put ALL my passion into this place!”
The reality is that no studio is perfect and no game studio lasts forever. My run at Ensemble lasted eight years – that’s a lifetime in the industry.
If you’re unhappy in a position, it’s easy to be negative. Unhappiness leads to one type of regret – where when you leave, you wish things could have been different.
But rose-colored glasses about your new position can lead to a different type of regret, when the execution of the studio’s games don’t match the idealistic vision you originally had in your mind.
Instead, whether you love your job or hate it, be rational. Every day, look for ways to help a studio identify and solve its biggest problems, whatever your role is.
Don’t get complacent when the studio head says “we’re the best studio around – it’s an honor to work here!” Instead, make the studio better every day – whether it’s calling out bad practices, being a reliable coworker your teammates can rely on, or just bringing a box of donuts once in a while.
The Best Investment You Can Make
If this all sounds like I’m saying don’t be passionate about what you do, let me leave you with this thought: the one thing you can’t overinvest in is your own career.
It’s incredibly fulfilling to make games for a living, but plowing all your passion into your current project will burn you out if you keep it up for too long. Games, studios, and employees come and go. Customer tastes and technology change rapidly, and a great team’s best efforts are no guarantee of success.
Between now and the time you exit the industry, you’ll work on a lot of projects. What this means is that your career is the most truly sustainable thing you’re creating. Your reputation for quality, thoughtful work will outlast any single project or company.
So whether you’re striking out on your own and building an indie game, or working for a big studio on a project you love, ratchet back your passion every now and then.
Look beyond the game you’re working on today to the game you’ll be making next year, and the game you’ll be making in ten years.
Mix in a healthy dose of objectivity with that white-hot creative fire.
I promise, that UI button being on the left or right side of that one panel doesn’t matter as much as you think it does.
(Better make the button green, though – it ABSOLUTELY HAS TO BE GREEN.)
Do you agree with my premise, or do you think it’s better to be as passionate as possible all of the time in everything you do? Have you ever given a project your all, only to regret it later? As always, I’d love to hear your industry tales!