Engineers, Hours, Perks, and Pride

This started as a Google+ post about an article on getting top engineering talent and got way too long, so I’m posting here instead.

I wholeheartedly agree that 18-hour days are just not sustainable. It might work for a brand-new startup cranking out an initial release, understaffed and desperate to be first to market. But, at that stage, you can expect the kind of passion and dedication from a small team to put in those hours and give up their lives to build something new.

Once you’ve built it, though, the hours become an issue, and the playpen becomes a nuisance. You can’t expect people to work 18-hour days forever, or even 12-hour days. People far smarter than I have posited that the most productive time an intellectual worker can put in on a regular basis is 4 to 6 hours per day; after that, productivity and effectiveness plummet, and it only gets worse the longer it goes on.

Foosball isn’t a magical sigil protecting engineers from burn-out. Paintball with your coworkers isn’t a substitute for drinks with your friends or a night in with your family. An in-house chef sounds great on paper, until you realize that the only reason they’d need to provide breakfast and dinner is if you’re expected to be there basically every waking moment of your day.

Burn-out isn’t the only concern, either. Engineering is both an art and a science, and like any art, it requires inspiration. Inspiration, in turn, requires experience. The same experience, day-in, day-out – interacting with the same people, in the same place, doing the same things – leaves one’s mind stale, devoid of inspiration. Developers get tunnel-vision, and stop bringing new ideas to the table, because they have no source for them. Thinking outside the box isn’t possible if you haven’t been outside the box in months.

Give your people free coffee. Give them lunch. Give them great benefits. Pay them well. Treat them with dignity and respect. Let them go home and have lives. Let them get the most out of their day, both at work and at home. You’ll keep people longer, and those people will be more productive while they’re there. And you’ll attract more mature engineers, who are more likely to stick around rather than hopping to the next hip startup as soon as the mood strikes them.

There’s a certain pride in being up until sunrise cranking out code. There’s a certain macho attitude, a one-upmanship, a competition to see who worked the longest and got the least sleep and still came back the next morning. I worked from 8am until 4am yesterday, and I’m here, see how tough I am? It’s the geek’s equivalent to fitness nuts talking about their morning 10-mile run. The human ego balloons when given the opportunity to endure self-inflicted tortures.

But I’m inclined to prefer an engineer who takes pride in the output, not the struggle to achieve it. I want someone who is stoked that they achieved so much progress, and still left the office at four in the afternoon. Are they slackers, compared to the guy who stayed another twelve hours, glued to his desk? Not if the output is there. It’s the product that matters, and if the product is good, and gets done in time, then I’d rather have the engineer that can get it done without killing themselves in the process.

“I did this really cool thing! I had to work late into the night, but caffeine is all I need to keep me going. I kept having to put in hacks and work-arounds, but the important thing is that it’s done and it works. I’m a coding GOD!” Your typical young, proud engineer. They’re proud of the battle, not the victory; they’re proud of how difficult it was.

“I did this really cool thing! Because I had set myself up well with past code, it was a breeze. I was amazed how little time it took. I’m a coding GOD!” That’s my kind of developer. That’s pride I can agree with. They’re proud because of how easy it was.

This might sound like an unfair comparison at first, but think about it. When you’re on a 20-hour coding bender, you aren’t writing your best code. You’re frantically trying to write working code, because you’re trying to get it done as fast as you can. Every cut corner, every hack, every workaround makes the next task take that much longer. Long hours breed technical debt, and technical debt slows development, and slow development demands longer hours. It’s a vicious cycle that can be extremely difficult to escape, especially once it’s been institutionalized and turned into a badge of honor.

Video Game Business Models

I see an opportunity, particularly for indie game developers, in developing new business models for sellings games. There are currently three predominant business models in the gaming industry:

  1. The major retail model: release a game for $60 in major retail outlets, with a huge marketing push, looking for a big launch week payout. Steadily lower the retail price by $5 or $10 a couple of times a year as it ages, until it eventually ends up in the $10 bargain bin. In the meantime, release DLC or expansions to try to get more money out of existing players, and raise the total cost for those buying the game late for $20 at retail up to or above the original $60 price tag.
  2. The subscription model: the game itself is cheap or free, but players must pay a monthly fee (usually around $15) to play the game. This is most common in the MMO genre, but can be seen elsewhere as well.
  3. The “freemium” model: the game itself is free, but players pay for in-game items, bonuses, avatars, skins, or other unlockable content, on a per-item basis. This is most commonly done with a points system, where players buy points with cash, and then spend the points on in-game items. This is particularly popular with mobile games, but is fairly widespread in general.
All three have found great success with the big game publishing houses, and the last one has found a good deal of success for indie game developers. But that last option doesn’t work with all game types, and has two possible outcomes: either all the purchasable content is purely aesthetic, and doesn’t seem worth paying for, or it offers real in-game advantages, and gives players the option to “pay to win”, leaving those who can’t or don’t pay feeling unfairly handicapped.
I think there’s another option waiting in the wings, however; I call it the value model, for lack of a better term, and it works something like this: release a game at a very low price point, and do the exact opposite of the major retail model. Players can purchase the game at any time and gain access to all content, past, present, and future. As content is added through updates and expansions, the price goes up accordingly with value. This has several effects on the sales dynamic:
  • For indie developers, releasing at an initial low price point can help to boost sales when a large marketing budget is unavailable, and help to fund further development. It’s also easier to sell a game at a lower price point before it gets popular, and easier to set a higher price point as popularity increases.
  • For players, it helps to avoid feeling like they’re being swindled, or continuously squeezed for more money; they know up front what they’re paying, they know what they’re getting right away, and if it’s worth it, then whatever content (which is free for them) is a welcome bonus.
  • From a marketing perspective, it gives the opportunity for a reverse discount: if you announce ahead of time that new content will be released (and therefor the price will be going up), it can push people to make the purchase (to lock in the lower price while guaranteeing the upcoming content) the same way a true discount would, without actually having to lower the price. The price is effectively reduced because prospective buyers are aware that the price is about to increase.
Does anyone know of any examples of such a model being used for games? I’ve seen it occasionally in game content (e.g. Unity assets and the like), but I don’t think I’ve seen it for a public game release. I’d be happy to hear thoughts on the subject in the comments!