In the early stages of building up this site, I had intended to post primarily concerning the game design items on my “What I’ve Learned” list before tackling more tangential industry issues. Unfortunately, I seem to get derailed by current events whenever I hope to get another post in edgewise. As a side note, I am indeed working on another game, but I am also teaching myself the brilliant Unity engine at the same time, so I anticipate at least another month before I have something to show.

Anyway. Rant incoming, so get comfy.

At the age of 23, I believe that I still qualify as a “young whippersnapper” in the game industry at large. As such, I may appear unqualified to lecture more experienced developers on their professional conduct, but I’m pretty sure I know a huge mistake when I see one.

Let’s not be coy here. Getting into pissing matches with your audience is probably the most self-destructive thing a creative person can do. As much as we may try to differentiate ourselves from Hollywood and other forms of media, this is at least one thing we can stand to learn from the film industry. Most filmmakers know how the system works. You produce a work of art, which may turn out good or bad. If it’s good, you graciously accept the honor and move right on to the next project. If it’s bad, you keep your head down and move right on to the next project. You don’t write angry letters to film critics about how they gave you a bad rap. And you definitely don’t try to guilt your audience into buying a ticket anyway.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I thought we all learned this lesson from Derek Smart years ago. The logic is simple: if you are capable of producing a good product, then the product itself will stand as proof of your talent. The moment you begin to vocally defend your work from its detractors, you are demonstrating a total lack of faith in your own abilities. Why else would you feel compelled to explain why your game is good, rather than let people see it for themselves? You obviously must feel that your explanation will be more convincing than the game itself. At that point, don’t even bother making it. Just tell people how awesome your game would be if you did make it. We’ll all take you just as seriously and you’ll save a lot of money in the process.

The revelation that sportsmanship is dead among gamers has been a bitter blow for me. In my rose-tinted, 20-something view of the universe, we all live in a rational meritocracy where anyone strong enough to beat me is an opponent to be honored and learned from. But as I begin my epic journey to the other side of the player/developer fence, I am even more disheartened that professionalism appears to be dying a slow, agonizing death in the game industry. Are gamers really so immature that it’s begun to rub off on developers? I’m not going to lie; as someone with a history of minor anxiety issues, this unhealthy psychological climate terrifies me far more than any failed creative endeavor.

When did we stop taking responsibility for our own work? When did our failures become someone else’s fault? Developers have been blaming publishers for years, but surely heavy constraints can inspire creativity, no? And even if you do get shafted - say, your QA budget gets axed and your game ships with bugs - save it for the postmortem, would you please? No need to air your grievances where we can all smell them. It just makes us think you’re the one that stinks.

My theory is this: as the gamer community has broadened to include more sociopathic neanderthals, they’ve become a far more convenient group to blame for all our mistakes. Because hey, they’re all assholes anyway, right? Suddenly, every flamebait forum troll becomes an attack from the community at large: Oh my God, they all hate me because they think my game sucks. I must educate them!

NO. STOP IT. You’re suffering from a delusion and you need to abandon it before you irreparably damage your career. I am already convinced that if Too Human doesn’t turn out to be the Second Coming and the cure for at least four types of cancer, Denis Dyack may never be able to get another game released. Not because his games are bad, but because no publisher will want to get near such a flagrant PR disaster.

And don’t even get me started on drinking yourself blind, flameposting reviews of your own game, and telling everyone you’ll make them all shut up one day.

So, here’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. In the tradition of indie developers openly asking what the deal is with things that upset them, I’m going to ask this question to all you developers out there:

Why do we get so bent out of shape when the Internet pans our work? What’s preventing us from dealing with these situations in a mature, professional manner?

I eagerly anticipate your responses. And I promise I won’t attack a Coke machine if I don’t like what I hear.

DISCLAIMER: Astute readers may wish to point out that my usage of other developers as examples of unprofessional conduct amounts to unprofessional conduct. I like to believe that we may learn from their mistakes so history doesn’t have to repeat itself.

UPDATE: The reviews are in, and Too Human turned out mediocre-to-fair. Sega is publishing a new title from Silicon Knights, so evidently Dyack is still a viable commodity. I don’t know whether I should be happy that things seem to be working out for him (I’m sure he’s a decent guy) or disappointed that this kind of behavior in the public forum is actually considered acceptable.

In other news, this interview with Luc Bernard is enlightening and mortifying in equal measure. I really hope this dirty-laundry tabloid business isn’t going to become a trend.

UPDATE THE 2ND: Okay, how is this supposed to not make me furious? Is this for real? Have I been transported into an alternate universe where you can pull this sort of lunatic stunt without getting flat-out gagged by your publisher? What the hell is this madness? Whatever it is, it was apparently enough to get him kicked from NeoGAF. Jesus. At this rate, I should be able to get a publishing deal simply by not rationalizing all of reality in my favor whenever a project goes south. Who wants to give me $15 million?

Did I say he was a decent guy? I still want to think he is, but now I’m not so sure.

Rationally speaking, I should not be angry right now. Unfortunately, I am anyway. What an awful feeling.

~ by George on August 18, 2008.