Boulos Bones

For some time now I've been grappling with the idea that, despite the fact that while many of the things I enjoy are created by large groups of people, the final result is typically attributed to one single person. I'm certainly not the first person to notice this, but this dilemma has been brought to the forefront of my mind after watching this brief presentation in which each person's contribution to a game is described in detail. That in conjunction with watching an extremely long investigation into the theft of Disco Elysium from its original creators (a term much more ambiguous than it first seems), as well as another video essay on the real creator of the Roblox “oof” sound. These three things in recent succession crystallized this issue in a way that provokes confrontation.

Despite subconsciously knowing this phenomenon to be true, it didn't stop me from associating names with works as if they were the singular force behind their existence. Cases such as: Hidetaka Miyazaki – Creator of Dark Souls, Masahiro Sakurai – Creator of Smash Bros, Todd Howard – Creator of Skyrim, John Romero and John Carmack – Creators of Doom(1993). Even the indie beloved Undertale is not the sole creation of Toby Fox but also includes significant art contributions by Temmie Chang. In fact, this iconic quote from IGN sums up the problem better than I ever could:

“There's a tendency among the press to attribute the creation of a game to a single person,” says Warren Spector, creator of Thief and Deus Ex.

— IGN Staff

In a tasteful irony, not even that quote is properly accredited, but instead is attributed to “IGN Staff”. Only after scrolling to the bottom of the article would one find the true author of those words, Steve Butts (who, as an aside as I was looking into this, was fired from IGN for sexual harassment, yayyyyyyyyy).

I illustrate this not to disregard the likely significant contributions these people had on their respective works, but rather to highlight that the perception is skewed significantly in favor of the individual as opposed to the collective. Indeed, single-person projects do exist, the iconic indie farming game, Stardew Valley, serves as an example of just that (ignoring ports and later updates).

I know a certain reader of the printhouse dislikes when issues are bought up and not definitively solved in the same piece, so what can be done about this problem? The answer might lie in a personal favourite first-person shooter of mine, ULTRAKILL.

Pictured above is the ULTRAKILL's credits section, also known as the “Hall of Shame”. It is an in-game virtual museum depicting every person who has contributed to the game in some capacity. Almost every contributor has a little virtual plush/portrait depicting them or their avatar and a plaque that states their name and role. Should the player be interested to know more about a member of the team, they have the option to pick up a little book in front of them and read a brief blurb further detailing their work on the game.

This little museum is leaps and bounds ahead of any credits roll as far as recognition goes and has done more to transition my perception of the game from a “one-person project” to a larger effort from many people. While it would be easy to simply point at this example and say “Why doesn't everyone do this?” that'd be too naïve even for me, because it would have to conveniently ignore one small issue with this whole endeavor.

Effort. The entire sphere of accreditation takes a consistent effort across the board. Effort to recognize, effort to document, and effort to present. A part of me feels like this is a weak excuse, but I also recognize that to make a video game (or anything really) takes a mountain of effort already. For a game like ULTRAKILL, a museum of virtual opulence may be difficult, but still feasible given the size of the team. On the other hand, for a AAA game with an ever-swelling number of team members, such an idea would be laughable. In fact, the credits roll for Street Fighter 6 is a staggering twelve minutes long.

Despite this complication, some games persevere regardless. Even though Undertale has garnered a reputation as a one-man project, the credits at the end of the game clearly show who worked on the game. Undertale goes as far as to take all the Kickstarter backer names and turn it into a bullet hell minigame. Smash Bros turns the credits roll into an on-rails shooting segment. This may not inform you about what each person did the way ULTRAKILL does, but you do recognize that each of these names holds a notable weight in the final result.

I wasn't really sure how to end an article like this, but I came to the conclusion that what all these 987 words are trying to say is that people make things. Therefore, it'd be best to try and appreciate that very fact. So I sent a message to one of the artists for ULTRAKILL, thanking them for their work on the game. If there's an artistic work that resonates with you for whatever reason, maybe try to reach out to someone who worked on it and thank them too.