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Tag: inspiration

Thoughts on 996 (aka Crunch)

I love my work and I work a lot. Yes, I feel that I have to, because I feel responsible for our team, for our game, for our publisher who’s placing a lot of trust in us and our game and I’m ambitious and eager to succeed. But I crunch when I feel like it. In our team, no-one is ever forced to crunch, nor is it expected. We repeat to ourselves and each other that we do not need to crunch.

I used to think crunch very much avoidable and is all due to bad planning, and to an extend it is. You always have to factor in that things take longer and that game development is very dynamic. But it’s not that simple. Ambitions and aspirations won’t be tamed that easily and having a drive to succeed is an unstoppable force.

But 996 (working from 9am to 9pm for 6 days a week) is extremely unhealthy, even for a single week, especially if it’s mandated and expected but you planned for 955. In our team, if we feel we’re running behind schedule, we reprioritize and focus on the things we can finish and replan for the things that fall of the schedule. So not only do you need to plan realistically, expect dynamic development and ambitious team members, you also need to be flexible and adept to any situation to make sure crunch is not considered a tool.

Crunch is avoidable and should be avoided, but crunch if you feel like it on a personal level.

Beyond your resume

Companies and investors look at the past experience of a candidate or an entrepreneur to determine if the person is right for the position or investment. This makes sense because you want to reduce risks as much as you can. Having people with concrete experience on something working on that something gives at least the feeling that they can do it well.

In the case of game design, this translates to genres and platforms. Companies look for economy designers who have worked on idle RPGs, for instance. Investors will probably fund ex-Riot people to make a new MOBA game for the US market.

But if you are a real game designer, you can work on different genres. I mean, if you know the basics of problem identification, audience, deconstructing mechanics, and so on, you can work on a platform game for PS5 even if you previously worked on casual match-3 games for mobile. We are not finding the cure for cancer, right?

In most cases, the only way of proving this capacity is alone or in a game jam. It’s hard to be hired by a company in a completely different environment. But the reality is that there are fashions, and maybe that popular genre in your area becomes uninvested, and you have to reinvent yourself.

How to do that? I prefer to start by applying my past experiences to the new challenges. The capacity to adapt insight and look at everything as a system is key. And it is a talent, so you need to cultivate it. I hold a design diary and often take notes of these cross-references and analogies.

The art of discovery

What is art? To me, art is everything that makes me discover something new. Video games are about fun, and fun is basically discovery. It’s the discovery of some skill we have, the discovery of how a certain story will end. It’s the discovery of a new technology, or maybe the discovery of a new type of appearance or visual style.

It’s clear that video games are pure art under this optic. This includes even games made purely for cash, like gambling games or aggressive free-to-play games. We discover something about ourselves in any case. Of course, that “something” can be bad as well.

New social-gambling game idea

Watch this video and, if you like it as much as I do, listen to this idea.

Here are the rules:

  • The board is a circle.
  • There are 4 balls of different colors: green, blue, red, and yellow.
  • Balls start with a random speed in a random direction.
  • Every time they hit the circular border, they create a connection.
  • Every time they hit the connection of another ball, they take possession of that connection.
  • When a ball has no connections, it disappears from the board.

Let’s talk about the real game:

The Player Input (The Bet)

Imagine being able to bet on a color. Each bet directly contributes to the strength of the ball. The more you bet on a color, the more you influence its force or mass, the more likely it is to smash an opponent’s connection.

The Reward (The Jackpot)

The final prize will be proportional to the number of links the final remaining ball possesses. This proportion can be explored because there are clear opportunities for jackpots: imagine a scenario where a single color quickly dominates and consumes the entire board’s connection count.

What do we have here?

We just designed a new kind of gambling game. It combines:

  1. Observable Physics: It feels “fair” because you can see the action.
  2. Social Conviction: You are betting on belief, not just chance.
  3. Variable Reward: The proportional reward and jackpots drive engagement.
  4. Minimum Interaction: And players can continue betting as long as the game goes.

We used colors, movement, and the irresistible draw of a collective bet.

The biggest lie in modern tech

It’s time we look at reality. That quote that rules your strategic meetings? The one that says, “If you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it”?

Peter Drucker REALLY said the exact opposite:

“By the time it can be captured in numbers, it’s too late.” — ‘The Effective Executive’, page 17

Let’s talk about the Big Lie that’s ruining your creative game.

The Glitch in the Matrix

The whole mess started long before Drucker was dragged in. It began with V. F. Ridgway in 1956, who said:

“What gets measured gets managed—even when it’s pointless to measure and manage it, and even if it harms the purpose of the organisation to do so.”

Ridgway was telling us metrics are a bug, not a feature. Yet, somehow, this became the metric gospel we use to justify every pointless KPI.

And Drucker? He was advocating for perceptual thinking, for capturing the OPPORTUNITY (the “Rare Dot”) before it becomes a measurable fact. Because, just like when your competitor releases the perfect game before you do, once it’s a fact, it’s already too late.

The McKinsey Gold Rush and the Final Boss
Then came the 1980s. IT systems made everything measurable, and consulting firms smelled money. It was a Gold Rush in the form of selling software and services. They needed an authority to market their new Surveillance Manuals.

Their move was an act of pure intellectual dishonesty. Drucker’s real ideas were too nuanced, too complex. So, too uncommercializable. They needed a punchy, two-button slogan.

Their solution?

REENGINEER DRUCKER!

Take his wisdom, strip away the subtlety, simplify it into a powerful tool that justifies their entire business model: “If you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it.”

It’s like using a quote from Orwell’s 1984 to sell the very surveillance system it warns against. A brilliant, deceptive move that made the modern business model bulletproof, but creatively soulless.

Your Trojan Horse
Look around your industry. This Big Lie is the system that’s deceiving everyone into playing the wrong game.

Consultants see it. Risk managers see it. Even some economists see it. But few people stop playing pretend. They think the whole system—their career, their salary, their social validation—will collapse if they dare point out the obvious.

IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THAT WAY.

You don’t need to “burn the boats.” You just need to stop chasing past facts and start focusing on Rare Dots.

Build a small Trojan Horse: a deeply personal, perceptually driven project or strategy, that the metric-driven system itself cannot play pretend with. Find your own “why” and let the metrics follow, not lead.

Stop knocking

Imagine a big gate. Behind that gate lies the success of the game you are making. Now, imagine you are standing right in front of it. Suddenly, you hear a voice:

“Why should you enter this gate?”

This voice represents all the Players. They want a single, compelling reason for you to gain access to that success.

You could start by listing the good qualities of your game—it’s like sending a resume: “This game does this and that.” Or, you could tell them the game is simply proof that you can make games, which isn’t a terrible argument, considering 80% of games never see the light. You could even beg them to let you in, like a personal favor, so you can continue making games.

Sending resumes, trying to prove things to strangers, or begging will probably not make them open the gate for you. In fact, they need a real will to open the gate in the first place.

Whether you’re looking for a job or selling your game, try to avoid the “gate situation.” Build your own stand outside of the walls, show off your merchandise, and let them invite you in.

We are based on deadlines

The games industry is a deadline-based industry. That’s why you often see terrible practices like crunch. Crunch is typically concentrated in the last few weeks of a project, and it is fundamentally a management failure. Systemic crunch makes things unsustainable. People will become stressed, burn out, and quit—and this could eventually damage the entire industry.

Great games are made by teams that strive for success. If you are both ambitious and smart, you can design a game to be sustainable. But you must be acutely aware of deadlines and accept that our sector is based on them, because you can’t really control everything else.

Vision and commitment

In my experience, there are two kinds of teams that achieve success with games.

The first kind is absolutely sure they will make it. They put all their energy and effort into finishing the project. They crunch a lot, and often they don’t respect local labor laws. But they are certain their vision is great, and they may eventually be right.

The second kind believes in a vision as well, but they are aware that the odds are low. They still go for it, adopting the philosophy: “We can fail, so what?” They know they would pursue the project anyway. Life is short, so why not try?

These, in my experience, are the teams that might succeed. Conversely, the people who think like: “Let’s see how it goes,” “Let’s make a game with this new tech because it can be a goldmine,” or “Let’s make a game for this platform because someone else made money,” never, ever succeed.

Vision and clocks

Recently, I was hired for a gig as a fractional leader on a new genre. The team was skilled and talented, and the environment was fantastic. Also, the vision was clear, and my client was very creative. Without even noticing it, I worked lots of hours—much more, actually, than the hours I billed.

Some time ago, I was working on another project with a different client. The vision was messy and definitely not based on anything apart from personal opinions. The team was split across multiple projects, and the goals weren’t clear. Someone told me on a Monday, “I wrote you the whole weekend over Slack, where have you been?” And I answered, “I’m sorry, I don’t work on weekends.”

I believe that crunch is a systemic issue in our industry, and since we have pipelines, it’s avoidable. However, a team truly aiming for success will always have certain members willing to work extra to contribute to a good project. If someone asks me to work more, I will probably be reluctant. But when I feel I want to, I am happy to work extra hours. Things aren’t always black and white.

Resist and persist

Perseverance is critical to staying competent in game design and in the business in general. Making the choice to enter the industry might be easy at the start—games are cool, and we all love them. But you’ll face resistance sooner or later: turning points and real obstacles to your choices.

That’s when you have to show up, put your soul into it, and demonstrate perseverance. Somehow, I consider resistance a kind of grace. Because without it, one would never prove their real commitment to something.

Things get harder when you’re working on a personal project. Aside from all the actual questions about the game you’re making, there are external pressures and survival doubts: Will I make it? Then you connect with people and discover easier opportunities to pick up. Working for others releases a lot of the stress you have when working alone.

That’s why it’s important to set concrete goals, every 6–10 weeks. These are checkpoints to reach, helping you ignore the sirens’ calling and trying to resist. I have seen people make incredible things in 10 weeks if they have a clear purpose. And if you persist and resist, the reward is something that will be with you forever: competence.