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Tag: professional

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.

Designing for the Great Conjunction

Chris Zukowski, the industry analyst behind How To Market A Game, recently published an optimistic take: indie development is in a “Great Conjunction.”

He argues that a perfect storm is brewing: genres that are “easier to make” are also the genres that Steam players are desperately hungry for. This creates a low-risk, high-upside scenario for small teams to release rapid, viral hits like Friend-slop co-op games or Horror-Casino hybrids.

But simply chasing the “Friend-slop” or “Idle Game” trend is the lazy route. A true designer knows that success is not just about the genre, but the transferability of insight, meaning the system behind the mechanics.

If you are going to take advantage of this “Great Conjunction,” you need to know why these genres are working. You need to identify the core human instincts they are satisfying.

The Designer’s Roadmap: Mapping the Great Conjunction

In my experience, the foundation of every successful game is not the graphic style or the business model, but its ability to satisfy a primal human need.

Here is a practical framework, using Instinct Mapping (the concept of identifying the core Survival and Social instincts a game satisfies) to deconstruct the “Great Conjunction” genres. I am writing a book on this topic, so stay tuned:

Great Conjunction Genre (Zukowski)My Instinct Mapping ProxyPrimary Instincts (The “Why”)The Design Hook (The “How”)
Idle / Incremental GamesIdle GameAcquisition, Rest, BuildingThe player gets a continuous drip-feed of Acquisition (loot/progress) with minimal effort, justifying the Rest (downtime) and satisfying the need to passively Build a growing system.
Friend-slop Co-op (e.g., Lethal Company)Party GameGregariousness, Play, LaughterThe core loop is dedicated entirely to Gregariousness (social connection) and unconstrained Play, with the physics or design chaos used to trigger Laughter. Human interaction is the feature, not the polish.
Horror Meta-GenreHorrorEscape, Curiosity, RestThe challenge (Horror) is driven by the thrill of Escape and the pull of Curiosity (what’s around the next corner?). The ‘Rest’ is the temporary moment of safety (e.g., hiding, a brief safe zone). The Horror-Casino genre simply layers this instinct over Acquisition.
Autobattler / StrategyAutobattlerAssertiveness, Combat, PlayThe player’s success relies on Assertiveness (making the strategic decision) and Combat (the resulting conflict), packaged as a simple, repeatable loop of Play that allows for quick experimentation.

The Formula: Market + Instinct

The success of these rapidly developed indie games proves that players will overlook polish and graphics if the core design loop is tight, fun, and deep.

Your task as a designer is two-fold:

  1. Analyze the Market (The ‘What’): Identify the “hot quadrant” in the Game Business Matrix (Session Time $\times$ Player Interaction) where there’s a confluence of hunger and low cost (like those mentioned by Zukowski).
  2. Design the Instinct (The ‘Why’): Deconstruct what primal need that market is tapping into, and use the instincts (like Acquisition or Gregariousness) to structure your Opening (hook), Core loop, and Closing (satisfaction).

Don’t be a martyr for a years-long art project when the market is begging for focused, fun systems built quickly. Use the Great Conjunction, but design with a framework. That’s how you turn a trend into a sustainable victory.

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.

Sound effects are art

Music and sound effects are responsible for setting the emotions and tone of a game. Specifically, sound effects are a great tool, from a game design perspective, to direct the player’s attention when they are concentrated on other things. Sounds are fundamentally about feelings; they act straight into our limbic system, much like smells, for example.

When I have to think about sounds for a game, I record a whole session (or set of sessions) in video form. Then I grab competitors and study where they put sound FXs, and I try to understand WHY. In general, there are clear patterns:

  • Every time the player interacts with UI and buttons, there is a sound.
  • Every time a player skill is used, there is a sound.
  • Every time an item is used, there is a sound.
  • Every time there are special statuses, there is a sound.

Usually, sounds are implemented through event systems, so I try to predict them or talk with programmers to understand the underlying architecture. Then, I add the event triggers to my sound specifications.

Sounds depend a lot on the art direction too, so I make sure to talk with artists to assure we are aligned on the tone. It’s easy to understand if you should use cartoony or realistic sounds, for instance, but the tone (serious, funny, epic, impactful, etc.) really makes the difference, also in terms of how players will perceive the art per se.

Imagine a rounded and gummy button, and then you add an explosive sound when the player taps on it. The feeling of that material will change completely.

Ways to lose the game

Since 2016 I worked as a freelancer for many realities. This fact gave me certain insight on the typical mistakes leaders, product managers, and producers, do when they decide on the strategy to follow.

1️⃣ Starting with the Metrics

“Data” is just an unformed, meaningless glob until you apply a creative hypothesis to it. You need to start with the “why” and the “what if,” not the number on the spreadsheet or the curve you saw on Sensor Tower. Stop treating data as a god; treat it as a confusing cloud of information. Your goal is to get your references at the start, not make decisions on them. Decisions have to be made on what makes you (you, intended as a team) special.

2️⃣ Seeking Consensus

Good strategy is always contrarian. If everyone in the room agrees that your next game should be “Fortnite, but with dragons,” be terrified. Consensus, by definition, is average. Have you read the Age of Average? This is how it starts. If everybody is doing something in the market, that something is not disruptive anymore. Follow others is not a good strategy, it can be a tactic for a while. But your goal as a leader is to create the right strategy to disrupt.

3️⃣ Providing a Goal, Not a Strategy

Many “strategies” are actually goals dressed up in fancy slides. “We need to hit X million MAU.” Okay, but how? That’s a target, not a strategy. KPIs are indicators used to understand many things; among them, you can also understand if you reached a specific goal of course. But the goal has to be something like “invent a new genre”, or “make the most downloaded free puzzle game on Steam”. Something achievable, of course, but ambitious.

4️⃣ Running a Strategy Workshop

You can’t expect creative strategy on a timetable, or to arise from a formula. Strategy emerges messily over time. In the shower, in the gaps between the work (remember my “eureka” moment?). It doesn’t come from a neat stack of Post-Its. I have been in plenty ultra long workshops where in the end nothing happened.

5️⃣ Putting Strategy in the Calendar

Strategy isn’t a “task” that you “schedule,” like an art review. It occurs in the unprompted, serendipitous moments that surprise you. It’s always on, somehow. It emerges from nuances, suddenly. Do the work, think as a strategist and it will come. And if not, you already have a strategy: shut down the project and stop losing money.

6️⃣ Looking for Proof

All strategy is a punt. A gamble. You can get some validation from soft-launch metrics, sure. But you’ll never be certain. The only proof you’ll find is by trying it. Stop looking for certainty; the real world is a chaos engine. These podcasts that only speak bad about the others? These “pundits” are not really in the game, they are judging from the outside many times. Again, do your work, step by step, every single day.

7️⃣ Making it Many Things, Not One Thing

Strategy is not a “list of stuff” (e.g., “We will integrate blockchain, launch F2P, and focus on narrative”). Strategy is one thing: the core fantasy, the single unique hook. Then organize and define the list of stuff you’re going to do. If you can’t point to that one thing, it doesn’t exist. Players want something important, not stuff to play.

8️⃣ Mistaking Boring for Intelligent

Man, with all those charts, all that jargon, and all that complexity, this strategy MUST be good! Ha, no. This isn’t a research paper for a thesis committee. It needs to be exciting—it needs to motivate the team, or it will never make a great game. Boring is fatal. And the team is probably composed by people really passionate about games.

9️⃣ Asking the Customer

Yes, of course, you must speak to the Player. But this doesn’t mean you should ask them what you should build and then build it. If it was that easy, every studio would be printing money. Their job is to tell you what they hate and what they love of what you are doing; your job is to build what they didn’t know they needed. It’s hard, very hard, but that’s the only way I know.

🔟 Hiding Your Opinions

You are not objective. Your strategy isn’t objective. And it shouldn’t be! Strategy is about making a choice. A subjective, opinionated bet. Those who embrace the fact that it’s all opinions and commit to them are the ones who master it.

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 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.

Collage of features

I met a colleague yesterday who is working on a project with no clear vision. Because of this, plans are constantly shifting, and prototypes are discarded just by pointing a finger to the sky. There is no one accountable for the game’s vision; the Creative Director is the company founder, and of course, he cannot be fired. The game feels like a collage of features, not a proper, cohesive experience.

I told him that this is very common, and it’s one of the main reasons behind the failure of so many games. Someone years ago said that 80% of games never see the light. This is why: you don’t have a clear vision of the experience you want to deliver. You only decide on the genre, and then you add, “but we’ll make it more casual,” without even intensively playing those kinds of games. You aren’t connecting with the audience. You aren’t willing to embark on the creative journey for real. So, you end up trying out things, making one prototype, not properly evaluating the results, and then moving on to something else—like throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks.

Maybe something will stick, and in rare cases, you might even get lucky and make some money. But that is not the way you build long-lasting, billion-dollar games.