i couldnt get the proportion that makes the games and working conditions better here. longer development time ~ better game ~happier employees? 7 years of development time~ L.A. Noire ~ a class action? yea yea just kidding, one person mentions a hacker not being able to guess the outcome of his action... a hacker? really? (i think i hacked in this now, uhm now what? let me share this with others so they can have pizzas too yayyy!)
Game Developers' Quality of Life: Why Should Gamers Care?
In this feature, we ask if quality of life at development studios should affect how gamers think about the industry.
Blowing the Whistle on Working Conditions
A video game is composed of millions of tiny achievements made by hundreds of people. When combined, their work results in innovative, genre-defining artistic statements like World of Warcraft, Half-Life, Super Mario 64, or Tetris. The fruits of their collective labour are savoured around the world by gamers, a once-exclusive tag that is now, thanks to the burgeoning market of Web-based casual games, embraced by more people than ever before.
Despite the impact that generations of video game developers have had on the medium of interactive entertainment, though, it's easy to forget those millions of tiny achievements when you're embedded deep within virtual worlds like Azeroth, the Black Mesa Research Facility, the Mushroom Kingdom, or a 10-block-wide screen of endlessly descending shapes. Logically, our brains know that none of these worlds can exist without the imagination, artistry, and programming skills of human beings. Yet for many gamers, those who work in the gaming industry are, essentially, faceless purveyors of joy. There are a handful of household names like Shigeru Miyamoto, John Romero, Hideo Kojima, and Will Wright; as for the rest of the names listed in the closing credits and the instruction manual…well, who?
This apparent cognitive failure of gamers to acknowledge the contribution of game developers to our overall well-being is only brought to the fore on rare occasions, when the people behind our gaming pleasure see no option but to go public with their sentiment of systemic discontent. The enduring example of the entire discussion surrounding game developers' quality of life arose in November 2004, when an anonymous blog post by the partner of an EA Games developer working on The Lord of the Rings, The Battle for Middle-earth detailed a studio-wide, 85-hour work week.
"The stress is taking its toll," the blogger wrote. "After a certain number of hours spent working, the eyes start to lose focus; after a certain number of weeks with only one day off, fatigue starts to accrue and accumulate exponentially. There is a reason why there are two days in a weekend--bad things happen to one's physical, emotional, and mental health if these days are cut short. The team is rapidly beginning to introduce as many flaws as they are removing."

The blog post gained widespread media attention and, later, saw EA settle over US$30 million in overtime to staff at its California studio following three class-action lawsuits. The "EA Spouse" saga, led by blogger Erin Hoffman, shone a spotlight into the dark corners of game development. For the first time, it seemed, gamers were made aware that making video games for a living isn't necessarily as fun as it sounds.
A similar incident in early 2010, ahead of the release of Red Dead Redemption, saw the "Determined Devoted Wives of Rockstar San Diego employees" publish a scathing attack against that studio's management on industry website Gamasutra and threaten legal action if their partners' working conditions were not improved. It is unclear whether that situation was resolved, although it appears that no lawsuits were filed against Rockstar Games. More recently, Team Bondi, the Sydney-based developer of the Rockstar Games-published L.A. Noire, was revealed to have dictated what former employees referred to as an "ominous crunch" (the intensive period before a deadline) that lasted for years, and a revolving-door staff policy that saw over a hundred employees leaving throughout the game's seven-year development.
Those three games--Battle for Middle-earth, Red Dead Redemption, and L.A. Noire--achieved Metacritic ratings of 82, 95, and 89, respectively. Collectively, they were enjoyed by an audience of millions across the PC, Xbox 360, and PlayStation 3 platforms. In the grand scheme of things, it's all too easy to sweep a few months--or, in the case of L.A. Noire, years--of long working hours under the rug and bask in the shining glory of the final products. But to do so would be a mistake, argues Kenneth Yeast, who was the engineering development director at Electronic Arts during the Battle for Middle-earth project.
The development team--which consisted of around 100 full-time staff, including management--worked "60-something days straight" until the game shipped in November 2004, says Yeast. Staff were required to be in the office by 9.30 a.m. and would go home typically around 9 p.m.--sometimes, as late as 11 p.m.
"It was insane," he remembers. "[Management] refused to cut any feature, or adjust anything to change the scope of the delivery, in order to fit the deadline. It was rough. I was warned when I was hired that they were expecting to go into crunch. It has its effects. I know I'm getting older, but I felt my eyesight got worse, even during that period of time. It was stressful."
Yeast--who is currently director of engineering at California-based mobile game developer Bad Juju Games--compares game development to a sausage factory.
"You may like to eat sausages," he says, "but you don’t want to see how they're made."
Jason Della Rocca was the executive director of the International Game Developers Association (IGDA) between 2000 and 2009. The "EA Spouse" incident occurred right in the middle of his tenure. Before that event, he says, the industry had a "blind faith," where the prevailing attitude seemed to be, "We have no clue what we're doing, just work harder! If I code more, things will get worked out!" "It came from the lack of maturity of the industry, of the people, of the art form," says Della Rocca. Since then, "things have gotten better on average." The IGDA moved to establish a quality-of-life "special interest group" and began discussions with game development studios regarding employees' working conditions, "but you still end up with these extreme scenarios like on L.A. Noire," he says.

Yet smoke and mirrors still dominate a necessarily secretive industry. As tens of millions of dollars are being poured into each AAA title, and as competition for gamers' wallets grows fiercer than ever, studios and publishers have few reasons to embrace transparency. It's a point not lost on Chuck Hoover, chairman of the IGDA's production special interest group and studio production director at Schell Games in Pittsburgh.
"How can we expect a gamer to know which studio to support, and which studio is churning through their staff with 80-hour weeks?" he asks. "What I would love to see is a world where the game industry sheds light on quality of life, so we can educate gamers on these issues. Something like an IGDA 'good studio' seal of approval based on overtime hours, work-life balance, and employee treatment; that's where we need to start."



