Game development is a complex and intricate process, but what if I told you that one of the biggest hurdles isn’t technology—it’s leadership? In September, we delved into why game development cycles have stretched longer over the past decade, but one critical aspect kept resurfacing in reader comments: why didn’t we talk about bad leadership? Fair point, and mea culpa—it wasn’t intentionally omitted; it simply wasn’t a focus of our initial interviews. But here’s where it gets controversial: defining “bad leadership” isn’t as straightforward as it seems. What’s toxic in one studio might be standard practice in another. To uncover the truth, we spoke with six industry veterans who shared jaw-dropping stories of how poor leadership derailed high-profile projects—some even requested anonymity to avoid retaliation. Their insights reveal a harsh reality: you can’t fix game development with AI or tech alone if the leadership is broken.
And this is the part most people miss: poor leadership isn’t just about being a bad boss—it’s about systemic behaviors that grind progress to a halt. We’ve identified seven key traits of ineffective leaders that plague game development, and trust me, they’re eye-opening. From failing to grasp the realities of game development to treating developers like interchangeable cogs, these behaviors aren’t just annoying—they’re costly. For instance, imagine approving content only to scrap it later, or demanding polished material early in development just to make decisions. Sounds inefficient? It is. But it happens more often than you’d think.
Here’s the kicker: these issues aren’t just about individual leaders; they’re often structural. Take the case of a studio where every department needed sign-off from leads who had no expertise in the work they were reviewing. Weeks of development were lost in limbo because these leads couldn’t agree. Or consider the “Dark Souls phenomenon,” where a creative director plays a hit game over the weekend and suddenly demands similar features, throwing the entire team into chaos. These aren’t isolated incidents—they’re patterns that repeat across studios.
But let’s not forget the human cost. Developers are often treated as interchangeable, expected to master genres they’ve never worked in. When they leave, they take institutional knowledge with them, leaving studios scrambling. And then there’s the crunch—vague policies that promise no overtime but set deadlines that demand it. It’s a recipe for burnout, and it’s entirely avoidable.
So, what’s the solution? AI isn’t the answer. The real fix? Listening to the people who actually make games. Leadership isn’t just about power—it’s about understanding, trust, and clear direction. As writer Robert Caro once said, “Power reveals.” It’s not about corruption; it’s about what leadership uncovers about itself. If we want to speed up game development, we need to redefine what leadership means in this industry. But here’s the question: Can we overhaul a system where bad leaders often thrive due to their connections? Let’s discuss—what do you think? Is poor leadership a structural issue, or does it boil down to individual failures? Share your thoughts in the comments!
