Tokyo CGM Night (episode 4)

Video game development is a tough mistress; especially within a studio system you end up chained to your desk for the largest part of the day, turning your eyes and brain to mush as you try to cope with ridiculous decisions from higher up that somehow only seem to affect your schedule, not management’s, then if you do ever make it out to socialise you are bound by Non-Disclosure Agreements and just end up in massive bitching sessions, propping up other developers’ complaints with your own similar stories of how naff it all is, so more often than not you just end up going home straight after work to spend some quality time with your beloved bottle of wine. So it was with some trepidation and not a little amount of strain that I have been making efforts to go to events, social gatherings, dinner parties and whatnot to meet a wider variety of people and talk about the finer things in life, one of those being the fact I’m an independent now and am free to talk about whatever I wish to whomsoever can stand to listen to me.

The last day of April I attended, finally, one of pro-blogger and part-time stormtrooper Danny Choo’s Tokyo CGM Nights. I had previously made plans to go to earlier versions of this social event, yet something always seemed to crop up, be it another arbitrary and ultimately useless deadline or a total lack of energy after spending a week re-exporting work due to some minor change in the tool technology.

The event was held at SuperDeluxe close to Roppongi Hills, a basement-level club of sorts which was reserved for this event alone that night but looked like it might be a jolly good lark as a regular club space. The crowd was slow to build at first, which gave me a good opportunity to chinwag with some random people, all of whom were very friendly and interesting, coming from a wide variety of backgrounds, though all somehow involved, sometimes just tangentially, to blogging or podcasting.

This blog being a little specialised I was not surprised few people had heard of it, which also wasn’t helped by the fact my business card has a name on it different to what I write under here. That said, it was good to meet with people in a way that didn’t inevitably lead to loud moaning sessions about the state of the game industry, though I did try, out of force of habit, I guess.

Once the room had filled up Danny Choo started his presentation, an informal affair with three projectors beaming images on the wall, showing at first the new Nikon commercial he stars in and some talk about the various blogs and businesses he is involved in. Next followed several more people all talking about some recent projects, mostly revolving around new ideas in blogging and information sharing, after which there was, what I gather to be the tradition, the handing out of presents through the traditional Japanese sport of rock, paper, scissors.

Taking photographs seemed to be the done thing at the event, and though I did try, the light conditions were just too bad for my little mobile phone camera, and standing there with that little device made me very self-conscious as everybody else seemed to have the latest, most massive professional equipment around. Danny Choo’s site usually acts as an aggregate to the various blogs that write about the event, so interested parties should keep an eye open for better information and, no doubt, a ton of photos via other people’s sites. I didn’t particularly hide from the cameras but I didn’t push myself to the forefront either, so my fragile, and by now meaningless anonymity may last a bit longer.

Though the event is a great place to meet new people it is, however, somewhat closed off. Though it was easy enough to get in, invitations are only sent to people within Danny Choo’s network who are related to blogging or other IT businesses, with the caveat that no details of the event will be broadcast before the date. This makes it hard for me to recommend it to people visiting Japan, but if you end up moving here and, as seems to be the Law, start blogging about Japan, there is a good chance you’ll end up at one of these events at some point.

The IGDA and QoL

Few subjects are as contentious amongst developers, staff and management alike, than “unpaid overtime”; it’s sadly an issue that still divides, and about which more has been written, argued the toss about and discussed with less possible hope of an outcome than the Israeli-Palestine question. Game development being a highly creative industry staffed by motivated and, frankly, obsessive talent the idea that overtime is absolutely required if one is to develop a decent game is sadly still prevalent. Ignore scheduling issues, if the staff isn’t willing to kill themselves for the good of the project no good games, some say, can ever be made. Management obviously thinks unpaid overtime is great for business, squeezing free man months out of staff while conveniently ignoring century-old research that pretty much proves that overtime turns to negative productivity. My personal views on the matter should be obvious by this opening paragraph alone, but for every lefty liberal socialist like myself there is a raving workaholic who will come with plenty of counter-arguments. So, we look at some representative body to take up the issue, and as game developers we have, sadly, only one of those: the IGDA.

Recently somewhat of a storm has erupted when the IGDA, which claims it champions “QoL” (Quality of Life) for its members, ostensibly developers, had a roundtable discussion at the IGDA Leadership Forum 08, “Studio Heads Hotseat”, where a board member, at the time, boldly claimed:

there's a lot of talk, "oh you can make great games working 8 hours a day 5 days a week, it's management's fault if they work more than that," fuck, it's management's fault for hiring people who want to leave at 5pm every day is the way I look at it
-- Mike Capps, President, Epic Games

Video here.

This, in turn caused somewhat of an uproar on the IGDA feedback forums and a very lackluster, non-committal response from the board.

The story drags on quite a bit, and rather than recounting it here I suggest readers to watch the videos and follow all the links in the forums and the IGDA website. The long and short of it, though, is that the IGDA, the only spokesgroup our industry has really managed to create basically has very little it does for the lowly developer, seeming to be more in line with the management ideas for which us developers exactly need an organisation to protect us from.

The overall usefulness of the IGDA is also an issue many developers can’t seem to agree on, with some local chapters actually being well-run and offering a lot to the local members, yet others being pretty much useless. So far I have been a paid member, a token of support for the idea alone, as I was never in a real position to devote myself to the organisation in the form of tangible help and commitment; sadly a common situation for many developers. After this QoL debacle, though, I have decided to let my subscription run out after which it shan’t be renewed. We desperately need an organisation to protect the interests of developers, and the IGDA has sadly proven itself to be somewhat of a lame duck in this regard, peppering their site with splendid ideas and research, yet not being able to even stand up to its own board of directors when they blatantly and openly defy the very principles it is supposed to uphold.

These mundane issues, readers, are what keep developers awake at night. I’m sorry it’s not as sexy and academic as ludological narrative philosophy, but we are people after all, people stuck in a industry so mired in the 80s bedroom coding scene that it never found the time to grow up.

It's a mad world

It’s always good, at least for the ego, to have one’s opinions confirmed, or at least agreed with, by other parties. Let’s face it, I’ve made some stonking howlers on this blog over the years, but the growing trend of Japanese developers swallowing their pride and admitting the way Japanese development works is in no way competitive with that in the West mirrors my own, by now possibly tiresome, claims to the same.

This time two reports follow this rising tide of disenchantment. One is an interview with Platinum Games’ Atsushi Inaba, producer of the upcoming Madworld, as well as Okami and Viewtiful Joe. Though Madworld is not a game I am interested in, both Okami and Viewtiful Joe are astounding games with daring visual styles, so hearing him say things as

“I think that western developers are superior to those in Japan overall”

is somewhat of a shock. But he is, of course, right. Reading the rest of his interview here, it is obvious the man has his head screwed onto his shoulders. He talks of globalising the game market, the importance of IP and the fact Japanese developers need to get their act together to compete with the West. These are, by now, fairly common sense issues, but for Japan, always resistant to change and taking responsibilities, having this discussed out in the open is a positive sign that people realise there is a problem, which, in turn, is the first step to change and improvement.

The second news item comes from Square-Enix president Youichi Wada, a man whose open candour I am really beginning to respect. Earlier this month he explained the delay of Dragon Quest IX, and chalked it up to being caught off-guard by the number of bugs, apologising for the arrogance of it all. Pointing to the way debugging (QA testing, in Japanese development parlance) worked under the current system meant too many “stubborn” bugs slipped through the net. Indeed, I have found from my own experiences that no testing is done until certain parts of the team are finished with their tasks and are then moved on to bug checking. At this point it usually becomes a race between the coders trying to finish the game and fighting a sudden rising tide of bugs. As Mr. Wada explains in his comments, it might be better to test new features to some extent as and when they are being implemented, and not to just hack the whole thing together and simply fix some issues as they crop up, which is usually not the case.

As I previously wrote, and with Mr. Inaba’s own works to back it up, Japanese developers do do some things right, especially in areas of visual direction and exploring weird nooks and crannies of game design, but general development practices are now too old-fashioned and apparently uncompetitive. No longer can throwing more developers at a problem and requiring them to work weekends and nights fix every scheduling issue, and I, for one, am glad some heavy hitters in this industry are coming to terms with this and actively seeking to make changes.

Despite the reporting of such seemingly negative quotes about the Japanese development community I’d like to remind my readers that this is generally a positive thing. However much you may like Japanese games, they are facing difficulties here, and not just because of the global economic meltdown. Companies have been merging for survival for a while now, with several more to do so on the horizon, with only a few of them looking strong enough to survive; specifically, those few are mostly the ones that have committed to change and a global market. If you want to continue playing Japanese games and enjoy their cookie quirkiness, change is absolutely required, and acceptance is the first step.

Overtime, schmovertime

Stories about Japan’s “work ethic” are as legendary as they are, sadly, true. Late hours and weekends are extremely common, very much to the detriment of productivity and health. It doesn’t quite matter how late you turn up for work, but if you leave before the witching hour people will tut and glare askance. If Friday afternoon you get an email saying weekend work is required, mandatory, whether your own work schedule needs it or not, and regardless of any plans you may have made, you will show up. There are ways around this, but they require determination and some amount of gamesmanship. Foreigners wanting to work in Japan can try this tried and tested method and be part of the solution rather than exacerbate the problem that blind adherence to the Way Things Are Done Round Here seems to bring about.

Requirements:
Valuable working experience
A good working attitude (during working hours)
A friendly and helpful manner
A disarmingly witty way of pointing out other people’s mistakes
A continuous repeated reassertion of how things are done “back home”
Foreign mettle
Patience
Confidence

Step 1:
Do as the Romans. When you first start your job you’ll be under a probationary contract. At this time you have little choice but to do as your colleagues. Work late, but maybe not hard, and if that is difficult for you, just come in late in the mornings. The important part is to be seen to be at the office until late and make sure you do your work properly. Wow them with how efficiently and quickly you get things done, simply by not sleeping at your desk during the day or wasting time reading manga.

Step 2
Settle. Once you pass your probationary period it will be much harder for them to get rid of you, especially if you manage to get a seishain full-time contract. Now the game begins.

Step 3
Train your colleagues. Start coming in earlier and earlier over the course of a few weeks. At the same time leave a little earlier and earlier too. The important thing is to always be at your desk when people start coming into work. You want the reputation of always being the first in. Make sure that during coffee or cigarette breaks you slip into the conversation how early you arrived. As there is never anybody there to check the truth of your claims you may exaggerate a little, but don’t push it. Any time before 9 a.m. is enough to blow the mind of most Japanese developers.

Step 4
Make sure your work is always done on time and to spec, such as there is. It’s much easier to get away with leaving “early” (meaning “on time” but earlier than anyone else) if your work for the day is done and dusted. Avoid having your work approved before you leave though, because there is no such thing as approval. Any time you show your work there will be change requests, whether justified or not. And any change request will have to be implemented NOW, regardless whether that particular task still has several months on the calendar. If a producer or director asks you to change something the implied timeline for that request is always “right now, before you even dare going home”. So check in your work, send an email to your lead and skedaddle. Alternatively, switch off, put on your coat, sling you bag over your shoulder and on your way out tell your lead the work is checked in. Never stay around long enough for feedback!

Step 5
Start making timekeeping an issue. Make sure you have plans after work, real or imagined; Japanese classes are a good one they can’t ignore. Whenever it looks like overtime is going to be creeping up on you, mention your plans. “Oh, I have to leave at 6.30 tonight, I have Japanese classes.” You are leaving “early” not because you’re foreign and lazy but because you have a life outside of work. Trust me, the assumption is you won’t have, so you have to make sure to let them know you actually do. When you’re in a meeting or being talked to by a director and leaving time is approaching, start getting fidgety, look at your watch or the wall clock obviously and nervously. When they get the hint and let you go, rush out as if it’s going out of fashion. They’ll start feeling conscious about having kept you up and hopefully even a little guilty.

Step 6
Make overtime the exception. Whenever you stay later than usual, make sure people know it’s a rare case. Over coffee sigh deeply, look at your watch and say something like “Oh, it’s already 7 p.m. Heh, late!”

Step 7
During this time it is vitally important that you’re a valued colleague. During the day always be courteous and friendly with your leads and colleagues. Always jump to the task at hand and do it properly and on time. Make sure they feel they can ask you to do anything and you’ll happily comply, just don’t ask late in the day. However, and this is the difficult part, while keeping this charming and approachable attitude, be sure to make a point of avoiding blame for mistakes. If a planner drastically changes spec or a director demands some arbitrary change that triples he workload without altering the schedule, you need to communicate you’ll do you best, but if that is what they want, and if they are sure, you can implement their changes, just not tonight. If asked why a particular task hasn’t been finished yet, apologise and say it was but their changes required a lot of reworking. Never blame people outright but always imply these kinds of things are their doing, not yours.

Step 8
Become uppity. Once you’ve established you’re a punctilious and punctual worker, driven yet strict, and a value to your company, you can let slip the Westerner. The idea of work-for-hire is still a little strange in Japan, where they favour the parchment signed in blood. Take contract issues extremely seriously. Unlike Japanese employers, don’t just sign whatever or agree to things you don’t fully understand. Ask for explanations, changes, let them know you are under contract with them and that this is a business arrangement. Once they know how seriously you take these matters, you can often get away from arbitrary overtime by simply reiterating contractual agreements. “Nah, I’m not staying late. My work doesn’t require it and my contract states I work for 8 hours a day.” Authority is scary to many Japanese, and with a reputation for strict contractual adherence they’ll often allow you to get away with this.

This technique will take some time, several months usually, but it does work as I’ve used it successfully several times. It certainly helped there weren’t many foreigners at the places I’ve worked and that I could play this game with the “weird foreigner” card, though as there is strength in numbers, the more people refuse arbitrary overtime the better and fellow foreigners are most likely to agree with your attitudes. That said, being the living example of how things can be done differently I did find several of my more daring colleagues following in my footsteps, which was immensely gratifying.

Another danger is that if your director doesn’t like you much you can be passed over for promotion or pay rises. Quality of your work isn’t as important as being seen to stay late. This is why it is so important to be likable and helpful during work hours, and to occasionally get drunk with your colleagues. You are not a bastard except when it comes to timekeeping. That said, I have enjoyed pay rises and a decent promotion within one company despite refusing to do any overtime whatsoever, so it can be done as long as your work is good enough. Sadly, you do actually need to work hard and be good at what you do; simply wanting to avoid work at all isn’t going to cut it.

Alternatively, anonymously contact the Labour Standards Office and have the weight of Japanese law fine your company and force a rigid working hours system.

Alea iacta est!

"The die has been cast," Julius Caesar exclaimed, according to Plutarch, before crossing the Rubicon and plunging Rome into a civil war that would shape Western civilisation. And, in a move with exponentially less significance, it is also what I say now, as I have finally decided to lay down arms and hand in my resignation. After a long decade of working in video games development, the majority of which in Japan, I have found that reaching my full potential, the dreams I pursue, to create amazing art through hard work, dedication and study, to work on great games that bring many people joy, to work in a professional, streamlined working environment...are all pretty much impossible here, for a variety of reasons.

Some of these reasons point the finger of blame squarely at myself, of this I have no doubt. I don't for one moment believe I am the "misunderstood genius whom nobody listened to". I certainly could have done more to better my situation, but I gave up. Other reasons, though, are very much to do with the state of video game development in general, especially in Japan. These reasons I will mull over at length in an upcoming series of posts dedicated to the subject. But the end result is: I throw in the towel. I simply cannot ever do any good (enough) work as a wage slave in a Japanese company. I'm out.

To say I feel liberated is possibly somewhat of an understatement. In fact, this decision was made a while back but due to circumstances out of my hands I had to bide my time. One can imagine having this particular carrot dangled in front of me for months on end was a very rough and emotionally turbulent trek.

So what's next for me? Sadly, unlike the West, in Japan one usually works out their notice period to the last second. Having already had my reserves of motivation depleted it'll be a difficult last month, dragging myself to work. But after that, I've been looking into the possibility of doing some freelance work, indie projects, some other business ideas, doing some art for art's sake. I need to realign my spine and coax some life back into my joints by exercising, possibly swimming in one of the tiny local pools usually clogged by ancient women doing aquarobics. Learn to knit. Study something, possibly another language. Work through my backlog of unplayed games. Do a bit of traveling to see friends and family. But mostly, and foremost, I will have a sleep for a month orso.

Japanmanship will continue for as long as I have things to write about and spurious opinions to proclaim. Aside from the series of in-depth post-mortems I have planned I'll now be able to look a little more closer at typical Japanese games that usually don't make it to the West, as well as the many trial and tribulations of the freelancer or indie developer. Theoretically, aside from the post-mortems, the tone of the blog should take a turn for the optimistic, or, if things don't go well, the self-loathing, as I'll have noone to blame but myself.

Japanese devs aren't stupid

However frustrated I get sometimes it is good to know there are Japanese developers, of actual importance and status, who seemingly pretty much agree with me. It's a little confirmation that makes me glow on the inside and reminds me that, even though my tone may be condescending and bitter at times, I am not pulling all this out of my arse.

In an interview in Gamasutra, Platinum Games' Atsushi Inaba speaks frankly of the wide chasm between Western and Japanese games. What lends these comments particular weight, in my eyes, is that I personally consider Platinum Games' output to be of extraordinary quality, painting them as one of the top developers in Japan. Yet even Mr. Inaba concedes Japan is behind.

"And what I want Japanese creators to realize now is that they are now following the lead of the U.S. creators, and that we need to get to and then surpass those creators, with innovative games that sell in the West as well."

He points to one particular strength of Japanese developers, namely working well within tight technical limitations.

"Japan had always been good at taking advantage of what was available within the technology of the consoles that were available then, and worked best within the restrictions, while the West had always been great at going beyond what was available to them. So, going forward, I believe that Japan needs to be more creative, and go beyond what is given. "

It is true, from my observations, that Japanese developers generally don't cope well with the raw power and the expectations that come with that of the next generation systems, which, in conjunction with the huge sales figures, might explain why so many of them are looking at the Wii and the DS as primary platforms. Arguably, Japanese developers are doing amazing things on the DS, for example, pushing its limits both technically and creatively; this is one area where one could argue Japan is ahead of the West. The Wii, however, remains a Nintendo powerhouse, with plenty of cheap, substandard shovelware littering the shelves in Japanese stores too.

One thing Japan is still pretty strong in is, in my opinion, creative design. This is a country and market, though also blighted by sequels and cynical cash-ins, where one can still follow the, what I call, William S. Burroughs school of game design pitching. One can dream up a high-concept pitch, say "you play a mechanical fetishist penguin from the future who needs to save the world by slapping people's arses with a sword made out of handbags while avoiding FBI agents dressed as lolitas who want to use your brain to create a funky coat for the president's daughter, who is also a pink SUV", which would, in the West, get you escorted off the premises by security but, in Japan, might lead to nodding and chin stroking. When Mr. Inaba speaks of being more creative, I'm sure he means technically.

Just the fact that companies like Capcom and Platinum Games have come this this realisation and are working to remedy it is very comforting. Game Republic's Yoshiki Okamoto agrees but is a little more defeatist about it, thinking that the West is now so far ahead that it's almost impossible to catch up.

"Even if we thought about catching up with them now, they'd still be making progress."

He might be right, but it's not a lost cause. Things need to change and it seems they might. But as all things in Japan, the change will be slow and will require input from the outside. Readers of this blog may be interested to hear that Platinum Games are willing importers. theoretically at least, as Mr. Inaba mentions:

"Bayonetta is a very difficult game to develop, and if there are very capable developers and programmers in the West it would be great if they could come on board."

If haven't a clue how far they are prepared to go with this, as it'd require some extensive company-wide language training, relocation support and possibly a restructuring of development systems and salary structures, but eager readers know where to send their resumes. It should also be noted that Game Republic appear to also be gaijin-friendly. Don't focus too much on my fatalist bitter ramblings, but take some solace in the fact Japanese developers too are looking to fix things.

Strength in numbers

I had an interesting conversation with a friend and fellow foreign lifer here who pointed out the obvious I was already vaguely aware of but had not quite yet formulated into a thought: the more gaijin work at your office, the better. And this isn't coming from some kind of racist superiority complex, no.

There is a kind of foreigner in Japan who suffers from the commonly called "my Japan syndrome", for whom the mere sight of another foreigner breaks the illusion that the solitary life here can easily trick someone into: that you're somehow special and unique. And certainly, the fact Japan is so homogeneous and every white, long-nosed face sticks out in a crowd, you'll find interest, idolisation even, from many Japanese people who don't often come into contact with "your sort". If your dream of working in the Japanese game development industry is based on a love for very Japanese-y games, you may even think you'll want to work in a very Japanese company surrounded, exclusively if possible, by Japanese colleagues. There is no better way to immerse yourself, is there not?

Well, it's not all piss and cakes. The Japanese system has its faults and problems, as does any, but I daresay we labour under some more egregious managerial fallacies that have either already been decimated in the West or have generally been decided as being a very bad idea. Not so Japan, where the old adage "but this is Japan!" is still the most commonly used excuse to not have to think about any troubling situations. I have had long and frustrating conversations with colleagues, usually over a cigarette or two, about their work ethics. "If you are so tired," I'd ask, "why not go home on time and take a good rest? That way you'll be more focused tomorrow!" And they'd nod and agree. And then they'd just go ahead and do what they always do: stay late because this is Japan. Whenever I come across interesting articles on technical issues, game design or tools I make a point of sending it in an email to interested parties, or rather to parties who should be interested, though they never make an effort to read them. When I am given neither autonomy nor direction over my work I pipe up and say it's a waste of everybody's time for me to create something and then change it later when they have ironed out all the issues. I try to lead by example, working solid hours, always coming in on time and trying to remain focused during the day. I try to inform colleagues of new games and the interesting things we could learn from them. I try to push for best practice approaches to problems. However....

I am the only foreigner in our part of the studio. Therefore, I am also the only one trying to bring about change, for the better, hopefully. I am the only one who comes in on time every morning, who leaves on time too. I am the only one who avoids unpaid overtime. I am the only one calling other disciplines to task when they make mistakes that directly impact my work flow. I am the only one who really tries to research games and techniques. I am, in short, the only one who wants change.

Now the main problem with this is that I don't, nor am able to, offer any real context to my proposals and ideas. I am just one man, and as such, in a communal country like Japan, can all too easily be dismissed. "This is Japan," they say "and we do things our way. You are just some weird foreigner." And well, I am, I guess. "JC comes in very early every morning," they think, "because he is just this weird foreigner who sticks to his contracted hours." or "Don't ask JC to come in on weekends, because he's weird and will say 'no'." However, had there been three or four or more of us, all doing these things, it wouldn't be represented as one man's insanity but as "the way things foreigners do it". If every morning, when people finally come in, there is a group of foreigners already hard at work, they will think, "wow, foreigners do it this way, huh?" rather than "ah, there's good old mad JC." A single person is a problem, a group of people is a movement.

The message of this post is twofold. Firstly, if you are keen to work in Japan you may be thinking you want to work in a Japanese company with a Japanese working environment. As a Westerner this is not a good environment to work in. I will go into more detail in the future but the Japanese system is inefficient and broken; one can witness this in the companies that are successful, which also appear to be the ones actively changing their approaches. Secondly, a single person cannot affect change, especially in Japan. For these reasons I highly recommend future ex-pats to investigate, even ask during interviews, how many foreigners are working at a studio before making any commitments. The more foreigners there are, the more chance there is that there isn't too Japanese a working mentality, that the studio has a future and that you won't end up too frustrated and overworked or that there is a real possibility of change for the better. By painting this as a Western vs. Japanese attitudes thing might come across as racist, foreign arrogance even, but from my experiences and observations it seems to be the case. Japanese developers too are slowly beginning to realise they dropped the ball, in development terms, quite a while ago, and some companies are actively making changes to emulate the more useful Western approaches to stay competitive. Having foreigners on board helps with that and it will help you, as a foreigner working at a Japanese company.

As for me, well, I have long given up trying to change things. As the solitary white guy here I am simply unable to. I can have frank discussions with my boss over a few drinks, where he vehemently agrees with me, even spurs me on, I can talk to exhausted colleagues who will agree that they are working so hard as to have become inefficient, I can try to lead by example, but in the end "this is Japan" and I am just the single odd one out. I am that single nail that sticks out. So I spend my days just doing exactly what I am asked to do and nothing more, while pondering the future I might have at this studio. Or not, as the case might probably be.

Hey, teacher!

As our industry grows, which is does relentlessly, and matures, which it does grudgingly, obviously the workforce will grow in terms of needs, numbers and skills, and so it is not surprising that institutions will offer dedicated courses and degrees which, in turn, get to be scrutinised by the press in a recent bit of hooplah over the state of such affairs in Britain. This leads me to pondering the value of game-related degrees and a lot of chin-stroking on what I believe the industry needs. And I've come to the conclusion that the industry does not need game-related degrees.

As can be said for any industry, arguably, the skills you will rely on most in your career will be learned on the job, with a previous education only offering you a solid base to start your training from. The game industry is no different. Looking back at my own career I find that all the skills I possess and use nowadays I have learned while doing the job and my skill set when I joined the industry was laughably inept to deal with the issues I face in my day to day activities. Ask a banker, labourer or teacher and you'll probably find this to be a common thread. Experience is a far better teacher than any humanoid, but that doesn't of course mean education is useless - far from it. I studied in a vaguely related field, though still far removed from video games, and one of my most hated courses I find taught me things I, I reluctantly accept, still use today, in the form of colour theory and composition. What my education did well was to teach me the basics of the visual arts and the disciplines of production, scheduling, pre-production and the like. But with my degree in hand a young JC would in no way be ready to start a job as a games artist from the get-go. No, I was lucky enough to find a company who saw my potential and hired me. From that point on I've relied of colleagues, training, self-study and a bit of real-life working pressure to make me what I am today: a dried up husk of a shell of my former self. All joking aside, I am what I am in terms of competency in my job thanks to the job, with my education serving to add a sense of depth and grounding.

And this is an important issue, I think. Video games are still so immature, as an industry, with so much to learn and improve on that any study that bases its syllabus on the current state of the business is basically teaching "broken knowledge" or immaturity. If you teach a student how things are done now, they might be able to wrangle a job in the short term, but as an employee they'll form part of the problem, not the solution. What we need is versatile, well-grounded graduates who can think fast on their feet and, as much as I detest the phrase, "think outside of the box". With vastly exploding budgets, higher risks, shorter development times, growing impoverishment of the imagination and the difficulties of nurturing new IPs, how can a graduate help solve difficult issues like these if all they know is how to do their jobs in these circumstances? A game degree course as a supplement to a regular degree could be helpful in getting that first job, but as a substitute for a more general degree I'd say it's specialising too soon. There is a very good reason why the better environment artists I've worked with usually have an educational background in architecture.

From an art perspective, these are my thoughts on education:

- Communication
One skill that is often overlooked is the ability to communicate ideas effectively, not only between client and artist but also between artists within a team. Video game development is, by and large, a team-based endeavour and communication is paramount.
- Basic art sensibilities
I am shocked how little people understand about basic colour theory or composition, to the extent where it is applied correctly it jumps out at you as fantastic game art. We must learn from established arts when it comes to the emotive power of colours, the space they need to be read properly, the effect light and shadow have on directing the eye and much much more. These skills can all be learned during your average basic art degree without even thinking about video games.
- Working to tight budgets and deadlines
Having studied a subject that required expensive equipment I learned early on to schedule in time for the use of these often over-burdened devices. We got away with a lot by doing prep work on home computers before sending the data to the larger equipment at college to do the rendering, or we would sneakily hide in cupboards to be locked in overnight, illegally, so we could have an entire digital editing suite to ourselves for 10 glorious but tiring hours. Knowing the time limitations taught us to think things out ahead of time to make the actual process as quick and easy as possible. This seems to be a skill in short supply in our industry.
- How the software works
All you need to know is where the buttons are. Anybody, and I mean anybody, can learn to use Photoshop or Maya. To use them well requires a talent and skill you'll pick up over time, but you need to know what buttons do what, totally outside of the context of video game graphics. Maybe nowadays we are stuck with polygon modeling, but who knows what the future may bring? Teaching only polygonal modeling will short-change the students who will be unprepared for future developments in video game technology.
- Don’t focus on current-gen
As mentioned above, by the time you graduate and get your job video game technology will have advanced - no question. You may be able to model and texture one mean Unreal 3 character model but you'll be at a loss as to the latest developments. It's best to have a general grounding in the software and techniques than anything too specific. On top of that, each company has their own techniques, limitations and toolsets and everyone (everyone!) will have to learn new approaches when changing companies anyway.
- Don’t focus on game art
As a personal opinion, a lot of the video game art out there is ugly. They may be technically accomplished and display excellent craftsmanship, but still, a lot of it lacks visual gusto. Being able to rely on acquired art sensibilities from other media can only help give you and your project that unique visual flavour that will set it apart from the other Space Marines of Hell FPS clones out there.

Video game education is in its infancy. I'm sure it'll evolve into something quite useful but all reports state that that might not be quite the case yet. If my experience seeing game school graduates' work is anything to go by, I'd say it has a long way to go yet. Your more cynical observer may think these schools are merely profiting from the growing trend in youngsters wanting to work in video games, promising increased chances of employment, despite the evidence to the contrary, and offering a very naive syllabus by people with absolutely no actual development experience or clue. At this moment in time I would highly recommend people with an interest to find a general education in the rough field of their future expertise, rather than a specialised education for video game development.

This GameSetWatch article mentions Andrea Rubsenstein's continued adventures at the HAL game academy in Japan. And, of course, how could it not be, Japan is a slightly different beast in these matters. As a commenter pointed out, in most cases in Japan the prestige of the name of your alma mater is much more important than your actual skills. Video game development is slightly different in this, as actual skill is a requirement, or at least the potential for it, and as such, having "Tokyo University" on your resume might pique the interests of the potential employer, it is in no way a guarantee to employment, as it might be in, say, politics or banking.

In Ms. Rubenstein's situation I have actually little doubt it will increase her chances of employment. She is, afterall, a foreigner and a woman, which in Japan will raise many (irritating) concerns over suitability. Having been through a Japanese school not only will show Japanese language ability but also a slightly better understanding of the Japanese working system than we, as foreigners, are usually given credit for, so even though I have my question marks over the transferability of the skills taught, it would count as a proof of aptitude which would make her a more enticing prospect to employers - at least, it would assuage many of the usual concerns.

So in closing, the above is all personal opinion and video game specific degrees could, potentially, augment a regular degree but not, as of yet, replace them. But don’t quote me on that.

The state of indie in Japan (Jindie?)

Apologies for the recent dip in output. Life has a tendency to crop up on you sometimes, and the little time I have been able to devote to writing was done so in response to a request for an opinion piece for Gamasutra regarding the state of amateur and indie game development in Japan.

[Nikkei reporter Shin Kiyoshi] points out that the burgeoning amateur and indie development scene is helping push the creativity and competitive edge of the U.S. market to an extent that pushes Japan's own industry even further behind the curve. And Kiyoshi is certainly not the only one to have noticed this; more and more Japanese pundits and developers are, sometimes with only basic grumbling acceptance, noticing the growing gap between the two cultures.

And though there is some amateur game development in Japan, it is almost negligible: it certainly isn't allowed to encroach upon the established industry thinking that once made Japan a great nation of video gaming but is increasingly turning it towards mediocrity and obsolescence, save for a single digit number of exceptions.

Read the full article here on Gamasutra or here on GameSetWatch.

Let's be positive, for a change

A recent post by Michael Abbott of the Brainy Gamer cut a little too close to the bone for me. In it he riles against the cynicism, or "snarkiness", he feels is so prevalent in video game websites and blogs. And honestly, he has a point. There does seem to be a prevailing sense of snarkiness on a lot of game related websites, which is why I usually and subconsciously limit myself to games news reporting sites, as opposed to editorials, like the Magic Box where I can find what I need reported as dull fact without the stench of some person's opinion which more often than not is clouded by personal opinion and cynicism. It's also why I really enjoy the Brainy Gamer as his obvious enjoyment of the games he is playing and talking about shines through, reminding us developers that despite what we think of the games we create there are people out there who really like playing our stuff. We should be grateful for that and remind ourselves we are not in this business to satisfy our own muses so much as to satisfy our customers, oh, and to make a profit but those latter two should go hand in hand.

So, for a radical change, I'll have a look at some positives about working as a foreigner in Japan because, despite my many grumblings, there are some. I know it's more fun to bitch and moan about my commute and natto and whatnot, but I know there is a real danger some excited pipe dreamers are put off the idea of working in Japan because cynical old sinners like myself keep harping on about how dreadful it all is. I've made fairly similar posts before and may be repeating myself on certain items, but this post is more for me than it is for you.

What is good about being a foreign game developer in Japan?

1. As a multilingual, assuming you will bite the bullet, as you should, and learn Japanese, you have access to a much wider pool of information and data than most of your colleagues. During my morning trawl through my usual sites and blogs I usually end up the main informer to the rest of my colleagues. They see me as a source of news and information, which helps me gain a certain standing which, though a little unwarranted, does help my ego.

2. You're the Devil on the inside looking in. Japanese culture has many, widely reported negatives for those that are part of it, but seeing as you'll never be one of those you have a real opportunity to not only protect yourself but try to improve the situation for others. By setting the example of coming in early and leaving early, as well as getting all my work done by actually working during office hours, I have, on more than one occasion, inspired Japanese colleagues to do likewise. As I have the license to break the rules it's much easier for others to follow, the onus taken away from them and put on my head. At a previous company almost a dozen colleagues ended up coming in earlier and leaving earlier and meetings were scheduled, eventually, to reflect this.

3. You've done something quite difficult that a lot of people dream of but few have the drive to actually accomplish. Though I always keep saying how working in Japan isn't really half as difficult as most people like to think, it is quite a lot of work. For every one of us who made the move, and there are quite a few, dozens haven't though sort of wished they had. You haven't taken the easy route of staying at home and being comfortable, you've moved across countries or continents, leaned a new language, a new culture and are, whether you like it or not, a richer person for it. That doesn't mean you're in any way better than those who haven't made the move, of course, but it is something you can feel proud of, if you're so inclined.

4. Your name, being foreign, sticks out in the staff roll (credits list) like a sore but elegant thumb. Your name actually gets noticed by those who view the list just because it isn't in kanji.

5. Even if the train lines are not, life generally is pretty darn good in Japan. Sure, people are selfish and annoying, like everywhere, and Tokyo can be quite dirty and overwhelming, but the immense choice of things to do is just fantastic. You could eat a pretty good meal for a reasonable price in a different restaurant every day, if you want, or be stuck in the middle of town with no idea what to do and be within a stone's throw distance from a couple of dozen venues to occupy your time at. There is crime, but the overall sense of security is still present. If you lose your wallet there is a real chance it'll be returned to you somehow. And though in everyday life your role as a part of Japanese society is marginalised, you'd never know this on an average night out, where you'll bump into friendly, drunk people everywhere.

6. With Japan as a base you can travel to many interesting places on a tight budget. Not only Japan itself has a lot of interesting places to visit, but for fairly low air fares you can travel to most parts of Asia and Hawaii and see the world without having to be a backpacker.

7. Your work environment will be a lot more varied than back in the West when it comes to the mix of genders and personalities. In many studios in Europe and America it's still a bit of an old boys Star Trek clubhouse, with the overwhelming majority of employees being male and of a certain age and type. In Japan the mix is far more generous and though there are problems here too, the overall impression is that it's far more mixed.

8. Though there will be the occasional arse who'll resent you for being foreign, earning more or being able to sidestep the rules, generally people you'll work with are friendly, open and, most importantly in light of the subject of this post, not so damn cynical. I've never had a drive-by in my time in Japan, the hateful tradition especially prevalent in the UK, where random colleagues would walk past a monitor and say "that's shit". When checking out new titles there is more of an open interest rather than an exercise is slamming the product. And just because you're not Japanese some colleagues will be very excited to work with you, chat with you and get you out at night to get you drunk.

9. Being in Japan makes you just about different enough to write a blog, whether your life deserves one or not.

10. At long last Japan now finally has good deodorant in the shops. Sure, it's only Lynx/Axe which makes you smell like a horny teenager, but at least it works better than the powdery shite that was the norm previously.

With every employment decision you must weigh the pros and cons against each other and obviously Japan has its fair share of cons, like working conditions and pay for example, but don't let's forget there are pros too and I especially need reminding of that sometimes but so do you, the reader, who may at times feel mired in this blog of putrid cynicism. I apologise for that, but I'm only doing what, as a Brit, comes natural.

Adventures in game design schooling

People still often contact me via e-mail regarding their dreams of working in the Japanese game industry and though I try to help out as much as I can, I am not always able. But it is gratifying to know my cynicism isn’t putting everyone off the prospect. Game design, it seems, is most people’s dream job and many readers have no previous game industry experience, which leaves me at a bit of a disadvantage in the whole agony uncle arena.

To those people I’d like to recommend reading Andrea Rubenstein’s blog about her Herculean efforts of entering into a game design school in Japan. She has written of her experiences on the Game Career Guide website, as well as her blog and it’s an interesting read. By the look of things she will start in April of next year, so I hope to be reading her insights of the actual program itself.

I have only ever dealt with Japanese graduates of a few select schools, in Tokyo, and know little about what goes on in there. I have also witnessed the mass recruitment drives, where in the first few months of the year hundreds of similarly suited young turks take a week long test to see who of them can be part of the select group of new hires. I am very curious to read Ms. Rubenstein’s views on the matter as she lives through them. I wish her the best of luck!

Note that this is a genuine recommendation, and not mere lip service because she lists this blog on her “resources” page; apart from a lake of bile I can’t really imagine what kind of resource I’m offering, but I am grateful for the link nonetheless.

Iceboy in Lavaworld

You may think platform games that resort to including a lava world, ice world or, heavens to Betsy, a combined lava and ice world, are suffering from designer’s imagination impoverishment syndrome (the well-documented but as yet untreated D.I.I.S. epidemic sweeping our industry). Let me tell you, they are not; these worlds are a virtual reflection of a typical Japanese tradition: the heaters and air-conditioners in office buildings.

After the sweltering heat and suffocating humidity of a Tokyo summer the dry, crisp cold of a Tokyo winter is usually the highlight of my year. The skies are bright blue, the sun shines, the air is dryer than an A.A. meeting and temperatures are comfortably low without the fear of frostbite. I love Tokyo winters. I love them as much as I detest Tokyo summers, and that is a lot!

However, with the cold outside air-conditioners, operating on a building-wide regime, get turned to heating, blasting the entire building with warm air, with no real options to turn it off locally, save for allowing a few slight temperature settings. What usually happens is that the building owner or concierge discusses with representatives of each company in that office when would be a good time to switch and at what time in the morning to turn on the device or when to switch it off. Sometimes it isn’t even discussed and the switch is made when the calendar dictates it’s autumn or spring, regardless of the weather. For most companies this works fine, but not for game development studios.

We are on a higher floor, so the heat of the floors below us rises. On top of that we have enough computers and devkits, whirring away, often and usually unnecessarily overnight, that we could, if we wanted, calculate Pi to the billionth decimal in microseconds. All these devices generate heat. All our pasty, flabby bodies, stuffed together in a small office, generate heat. The air becomes heavy, stale and hot. We open the windows but there is little breeze, so the desks on the outer edges become freezing cold but those in the center remain in pockets of stifling, stale warmth, not unlike a badly microwaved apple pie. In one office you’ll see both people with heavy coats and lap blankets as people with T-shirts and slippers. The outer circle develops colds, the inner crowd headaches. Productivity plummets, people get tired. And short of forcing a shutdown of the building-wide heating system there is nothing that can be done about it.

The summers aren’t much better, the situation being the polar opposite (and that is a better pun than you’re giving it credit for!) Those in the inner parts of the office are freezing, wearing coats and lap blankets as the air-conditioner blasts icy gusts straight down their necks, while those next to the windows are sweating and stripping to the bare essentials.

Maybe I have been unlucky, but in the small majority of offices I’ve worked this was the case. Recently it’s been so bad on any given day there will be at least 4 or 5 people off on a sick day – in itself a rare occurrence in Japan. It is extremely unpleasant. But at the same time, what can you do? Apart from having the building owner install a better and presumably much more expensive system would probably negate the cheap rent that got us renting an office here in the first place. Moving to another building would, aside from the problems of finding viable, affordable places, eat away at our already tight deadlines. We’re up a certain stretch of river without a boat propulsion device. Or rather, we are stuck in the first circle of Hell without the eternal damnation.

So there you have it; lave and ice worlds in games are actually subtle and politically subversive comments on the tyranny of office building air-conditioners. I bet you didn’t know that.

The Big Dipper

There is a well-documented problem with longevity amongst game industry careerists. Part of it is the frivolous nature of our products. When you’re meeting with friends who are lawyers, doctors, cancer curers or crime-fighting superheroes it always feels a bit sad when you tell them you’re still making kids’ toys, especially when you’re getting older. It’s also partly due to the punishing work “ethics” and generally lower wages. This is why most companies advertising for staff stipulate the applicant must be “passionate about games”, because, let’s be honest, the only real rewards you are going to receive are self-made.

In Japan it works a little bit differently. It’s often just seen as a desk job, as I suppose it is, and any real chance of promotion comes with longevity at the company. If you’re in your thirties and have been employed at the same place for, say, a decade, you’ll be promoted, whether you’re suitable or not. This partly stems from Japan’s history of life-time employment which, as I made clear at the start of the sentence, is history. Any person who still claims this as a fact of Japanese life needs to move out of the 80s. That said, job hopping is still very much a developing skill. Employers expect the employees to expect life-time employment, but that’s where it ends.

Eventually a lot of people end up leaving the industry, globally speaking, as employers are keen to hire enthusiastic graduates rather than keep their senior, and therefore more expensive, staff. Only those few who are extremely lucky enough to find a place of employment ideally suited to them find a new lease of life and stay the course. This is pretty much what it comes down to, life in the game industry: job-hopping from one place to another, or being made routinely redundant, until you find a place where there is an ideal marriage of wages, quality of life, projects and people. Ideal for you, that is. Alternatively you could be blissfully aware of your own incompetence and stick it out at a place where your employment is safe, possibly due to longevity or having incriminating photos of your boss at hand.

In the meantime most of us just ride the rollercoaster of highs and lows until we are sick of it and get a real job. Personally, and I think this may be endemic, I find my lows getting lower and my highs less and less high as time progresses. Soon enough the highs can’t counter the lows anymore and then I’ll have some difficult decisions to make.

The reason so many people get burned out, apart from the obvious crunch time mentality, is, as I see it, twofold. Firstly the job requires a creative mind, yet one hardly gets any opportunities to let that creativity run riot. This is the “prissy artist syndrome” where the increasingly technical tasks start to eat away at your Muse. You want to go mad and create insane characters and fantastical worlds, yet most of the time you have to polish, fix, adjust, change, bug-check, implement. These are necessary tasks and all part of the job, but when you’re feeling low these activities can really get on your goat.

The second reason is one the employers need to take the blame for. The aforementioned passion that is, apparently, a job requirement, is mostly advertised to get young, keen people to work for little money and do unpaid overtime willingly. It’s hard to make employees work extra time for no extra pay or reward other than, maybe, a few days holiday at the end of a project of a duration that usually doesn’t reflect the countless hours you’ve worked for free, but if you convince them it’s “for the good of the game” you usually can get people excited enough to comply. However, this is a double-edged sword. Aside, of course, from overworking your staff and decreasing their effectiveness, you are also chipping away at their morale. “Wow,” a keen applicant may think, “I am passionate about games! They want passionate people! I can give them all my ideas, I can really help make this a better game!” But no, there is usually little room for employees to contribute to the extent they believe they will be able to, so this false expectation of being deeply involved turns into bitter resentment when leads and bosses dictate what needs to be done with little regard to the ideas of the “passionate employee”.

In the end you have turned from passionate artist to competent but tired craftsman until you become a journeyman, doing your hours for the pay with very little enthusiasm. At that point you think to yourself “hey, I can work my hours with little enthusiasm elsewhere, for much better pay!” and you get a job in banking.

Of course, the many people that do stay in the industry before their use-by date are lucky. They end up somewhere where they feel valued, where they feel adequately compensated and can work on things they like. They are also an immense asset, having acquired more knowledge than the five graduates their wages would easily pay for. But these days finding such a place is a little like winning the lottery.

With increasingly expensive development cycles and a staffing problem the traditional decline in morale of seniors is something that should be addressed. However useful keen and cheap graduates are, they are no substitute for a weathered veteran. At the very least you need a few of them aboard. It’s a shame to lose all these people to the better paid, better scheduled and better rewarded jobs. I wonder what could be done about that.

On the other hand…maybe it’s our industry’s self-regulating culling process. Get rid of the chaff, out with the old. I mean, if Portal has taught us anything, not desert related, it’s that it’s the new guard, the young turks, who will bend new life into game design while the old fogeys keep harping on about nicer-looking guns and better ragdoll physics. It takes a team of seniors to come up with Halo 3, but it was a pack of students that came up with Portal. Bah humbug. What do I know? Maybe it’s time to be put out to pasture.

Fallingu Behindo

I have often stated nobody in Japan speaks English. This is of course not entirely true, but it’s a handy guide for aspiring immigrants. You really need to make the effort to learn Japanese or you’ll face a lot of frustration and hurt your opportunities. But some people do speak English here, some very well, even. Despite learning it as part of the standard curriculum at school most Japanese simply have too little knowledge or skill in English to use it and any proficiency is mainly due to foreign exchange experiences or personal interest. But even in the latter case some people go to English language schools for months and still can’t master the language to a level where it becomes useful. Sure, a lot of people will be able to get the wide gist of a piece of English text if absolutely forced to read it, but ordering a cup of coffee is still too difficult.

Like it or not, and even though it’s not a majority language, English has become, due in no small part to technological advances made in the West and the widespread use of the internet, the lingua franca. Most countries’ populations have dealt with the situation admirably, even though English is a notoriously difficult and confusing language. Watch any news item and most people interviewed, wherever they are in the world, speak English at the very least to an extent it is usable and understandable. Except, of course, when it comes to Japanese interviewees who always need to be dubbed and translated. The same goes for the video game industry. Watch any developer interview on, say, Gametrailers and they’ll speak English, be they from Poland, Russia, Sweden, America (where they speak it very well) or France. But not, of course, Japan.

This is not a rant against Japan’s overall inability to learn a language or my own self-made frustrations as a lifer here, but it struck me that this is most definitely a contributing factor to the further falling behind of Japanese game development especially on technical issues.

One of the great aspects of our industry in recent years is the greater freedom with which developers share information. Shows like GDC, sites like Gamasutra as well as many other outlets are great ways for developers to share information on a mutually beneficial basis. And something like, say, Tim Moss’s excellent lecture on data driven systems, once translated and communicated by me to the rest of the team, turns from a lucid and interesting talk into an incomprehensible, childish load of gibberish. Articles of note on Gamasutra, when sent by email to colleagues, end up ignored in the same way I ignore emails, as it is sometimes just too much bother struggling through a text in a language you haven’t mastered, especially when you’re busy.

Also when it comes to the job market Japan is in trouble. There is a constant lack of qualified applicants and little time or money to train graduates to a good standard. Whereas Westerners are pretty free to move from country to country to find the best companies to work for, Japanese companies, due to their lack of English ability, are limited to local hires and those few foreign idiots who learned the language and are willing to take a massive pay cut. It would seem a lot of able applicants are relocating to America because integration is painless and the salaries much better. Japan is missing the boat here, letting good candidates slip through their fingers. The attitude should be "we want the best, so we look for the best!” rather than “do you speak Japanese and are you willing to work for 50% of the salary you could get elsewhere?”

Though some companies do license foreign technology, like Renderware and Unreal Engine, support, though localized, is usually a step removed from the actual developers of the software. This extra degree of separation can add to response time, affecting the development and ultimately the experience of licensed technology. Even then there are on-line communities where questions can be fielded but fewer in Japan than abroad.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. Two of the three major console manufacturers are Japanese and offer pretty good local support. The Japanese market, though shrinking, is at the moment still viable. And with the massive success of the DS and Wii, arguably two pieces of hardware without huge technical power, current working systems in Japan can still be used to profitable effect. Some Japanese developers too have started talking candidly about their technology and practices and there are some local seminars and shows like CEDEC and the like. But when it comes down to numbers these events pale in comparison to foreign shows and with western companies becoming increasingly aggressive in the global market Japan needs to step up and take the challenge, and for this a minimum requirement would seem to be some usable level of English proficiency. It’s not a panacea, but it’s definitely one aspect that is a hindrance to the Japanese game development industry.

Genuinely Genial Game Gaijin Group Gabfest

In the wake of last month’s Tokyo Game Show was another opportunity to follow a variety of lectures and workshops at CEDEC and several symposia at DiGRA. One of these was a roundtable discussion about working as a foreign game developer in Japan, featuring a selection of gaijin from several corners of the world, all painstakingly building their careers in Japan. The line-up can be found on this page, the second section from the top. (Mr. Dylan Cuthbert was indisposed.)

On-line reports of this particular event, which I didn’t attend (or did I?)* are very sparse. Jason Della Rocca, head honcho of the IGDA, gives the whole DiGRA event a quick mention on his blog with a succinct:

DiGRA, on the other hand, was both wildly inspiring and numbingly boring.

Whereas the Japanese IGDA site only gives us a very brief blurb, turned into “hilaric” English thanks to the never boring Excite translation page:

It became shape that Mr. locker drew it out while questioning the panelist on the point that the researcher from foreign countries that gathered in this conference wanted to learn as a stance.

The two things we can learn from this all is that (a.) the organizers of DiGRA should, in future, record or transcribe these events for the benefit of the wider community, and yah-booh to them for not having done so this time, and (b.) the readers of this blog can see there are more game gaijin out there. Hopefully one of the attendees will write up the symposium on his own blog at some point in the future.

Let’s hope there will be more events like this, recorded for posterity with any luck. That way I might have something useful to post on the matter.

STOP PRESS: Literally not thirty seconds after posting this article I find this URL with an incomplete report of the discussion.

* No, I didn’t.

A time for change

One of those little traditions of Japan is that summer and winter time are mandated by calendar dates, rather than the weather. After the venal equinox Japan is officially in summer mode, after the autumnal one in winter mode. Shops change their layouts and stock, clerks change their warm woolen uniforms for light cotton ones, even time tables may change.

As I remarked before, these recent years the weather has become increasingly erratic, and though we had a few delightfully warm spring days this last week it is far from summer-y; evenings are still mighty cold and from one day to the next there will be frosty winds and rainstorms. I pity the poor shopkeepers having to wear their light uniforms in such weather conditions simply because the system demands it.

I had been looking forward to this equinox as that means our communal building will finally switch on its air-conditioner again. They don’t care if people are freezing or sweating in their workplace, before the equinox the central heating is on full blast, afterwards the air conditioner. It’s the way thing are done. These last few weeks our office has been slowly getting increasingly warm. By three in the afternoon, thanks to a mass of bodies working away at their keyboards and a bank of computers whirring away happily, conditions become uncomfortable. The windows are opened, the door to the fire escape propped open with an empty graphics card box, fans switched on. But it’s no use; the central heating and the sun shining on the flat roof all contribute to a musky, dizzying warmth that make me sleepy and gives me a massive headache by 5, still hours before I can leave for home.

But is our office in line with the times? Apparently not. After the midweek holiday to celebrate the coming of spring the central heating is happily continuing its onslaught. I wear a pull-over and thick coat to work but have to strip off as much as possible on the work-floor lest my clothes get drenched in sweat. These are hardly ideal working conditions, and things will deteriorate even more until the building’s supervisor finally decides it’s time to flip the switch, at which point we’ll have a few cold weeks until the weather catches up, which is infinitely preferable to the heat.

All my gripes with work are aggravated by the warmth. Lunchbox smells become worse and seem to linger around longer. Unwashed colleagues stink even worse than usual. The dusty environment gets even dustier as fans circulate the warm air, rather than cool the workers. Stacks of papers on messy desks get blown about and scattered periodically. Low motivation turns into downright apathy as everybody turns into a warm zombie by mid-afternoon, sit back, sigh heavily and complain loudly about how damn warm it is here. And my aforementioned headaches can’t be suppressed by coffee as any hot drink just makes things worse and even the bottled water which comes out of the vending machine ice cold turns into lukewarm spit after keeping it on your desk for a while. And due to the open windows and doors every police siren or ambulance, which seem to be in abundance around our office, starts everyone as they noisily screech past. The widespread hay fever that seems to blight Japan too doesn’t benefit from the open windows as colleagues sneeze with loud grunts every other minute.

I am praying for the air-conditioner by now, and I’m not even a religious person. I hope Monday will herald in summer time at our office, a few days late, as more weeks of this heat will surely drive me to insanity. Maybe I should have a quiet word with our building’s supervisor before I lash out and hurt somebody.

Stupeur et tremblements (review)

In a previous post I took the diabolical liberty to comment on a film about Japan I had not seen yet. Of course such a journalistic or even editorial remiss weighed heavily on my mind so I took great measures to acquire this film for myself, watch it and comment on it again as an informed viewer.
The protagonist Amélie is a Belgian woman in dire need of some gamesmanship lessons. Having been born in Japan and resident until the age of 5 she holds special memories and due to a great desire to revisit the culture that she admired in her early years she comes back as a grown woman with a one year contract as a translator at the big Yamimoto Corporation in Tokyo, with, as they are keen on saying on television, hilarious consequences.

Hilarious? Well, funny it is, but funny peculiar if anything. Amélie, who starts young and keen and full of desire to play by the Japanese rules, soon finds herself in a downward spiral of misery as the system and her superiors stomp on her, try to break and degrade her while she herself, set on finishing the contract if it kills her, stumbles along with the best of intentions. If you view this film as a distant observer with little knowledge or interest of work in Japan you may find it amusing, funny even, but I found myself shocked at how little it is actually exaggerated. Of course it is exaggerated and game development isn’t half as bad as corporate office life, being less formal on rules and hierarchy, but some situations felt awfully familiar. Little consideration is given to Amélie’s qualifications and foreignness, and work quickly becomes dull zombie work with superiors stabbing her in the back, and front, at every occasion. Bosses scream unreasonable orders, working practices are inefficient and there is some manhandling which would land any western employer in a courtroom. On more than one occasion I had to fight off the desire to step through the screen and give some of Amélie’s colleagues a well-deserved slap. “Why are you taking this abuse?” I screamed in desperation as Amélie gets demoted to lower and lower positions.
The main arc of the story revolves around the complex relationship between Amélie, played by Sylvie Testud with a lot of humanity and heart, and Fubuki Mori, played by the surprisingly tall Kaori Tsuji. This relationship is solidly sadomasochistic and, to my dirty little mind at least, has some strong sexual undertones. Fubuki is clearly the antagonist, the person who drives Amélie’s downfall, despite the presence of two other screaming superiors who would seem to fit the bill better. As the film points out, if the President is God then the vice-president is clearly the Devil. And though this is true, it is your immediate colleagues or superiors one needs to be most careful with. Fubuki’s status in the company as in life, being an unmarried and unmarryable woman nearing the age of 30 is particularly well observed.
During the film Amélie talks about Japanese culture and history, about such things as honour and pride, with the same sense of awe as your usual Japanese-wannabe, i.e. in a vastly inflated way bordering on idolatry, and, in my view, false. It always irks me when foreigners talk about Japanese honour while to me it’s clear the western interpretation of the word differs significantly from the Japanese; people confuse honour with unquestioning obligation too much and to their detriment. But in this film at least Amélie seems to learn some lessons and though she doesn’t end up a bitter and twisted wreck like most people that follow in her shoes, she does realize that the real Japan and the memories of her past and the history she studied don’t really equate.

It’s not all great though. Sylvie Testud does have a little bit of a wonky accent when speaking Japanese and some of the Japanese cast are clearly not very good actors. The title sequence shows Sylvie Testud in full Geisha face make-up, which always makes me a little queasy. White face-paint never looks good on western women. That said, I don’t really like it on Japanese women either, but at least they have the history behind them. I’m splitting hairs, of course, as the overall experience of the film is great and as such I recommend it to anyone who is toying with the idea of working in Japan. For others it is just a great story and the film also shows some lovely aerial views of Shinjuku.

The important lessons to learn are that even though this film is slightly exaggerated, there is a real possibility of landing yourself in a similar situation; you must prepare yourself and know what you’re getting into. Also, playing by the Japanese rules, trying to act like the Japanese would simply does not work, ever. It’s not just that these rules can be tediously obscure, difficult to learn or understand but mostly that you’re foreign, you always will be and you’ll always be treated as such; in Japanese society this is your strength, not your weakness, but it’s up to you to make people realise this. I would never allow myself to be in Amélie’s situation, and neither should you. It can be done differently, and this film only proves that differently is the way to go.
Go watch it! It’s a charming and entertaining film that deserves a wider audience. It delivers, in my view, a much more honest view of Japan than most other endeavors, including the much touted “Lost in Translation”. I have not read the book yet, and though I won’t go hunting for it as I did the film I will probably pick it up if I see it in stores on visits home. It certainly dashed my own dreams of writing a novel about my “hilarious” working experiences in Japan. Damn you, Amélie Nothomb! Although, judging by your autobiographical experiences in the story, you have already had the pleasure of experiencing Hell.

The letter of the Law

Despite what you may think and in the face of all evidence to the contrary Japan actually has a set of laws to protect the employee in the shape of the Labour Standards Law which is provisionally translated into English and available from such websites as the Japan Institute for Labour Policy and Training. The biggest problem is of course Japan’s cultural attitude towards making waves, as in it being best not to. This usually ends up as the victim’s albatross, with police, lawyers and judges trying to get, say, the victim of a car accident to accept the official apology and the free luncheon voucher because, you know, lengthy litigation would just be so embarrassing for all parties involved and we don’t want that now do we?

Though I’d hate it for Japan to become as litigious as America I do think some cases need to be made. Employers are not going to change things for the benefit of the employees unless they are absolutely forced to do so, are they? Take for example the case of a dozen developers at Sega Japan who were confronted with the “empty room” treatment. This trick was a favourite of corporations all over Japan when they needed to get rid of people; they would change their job description and have them sit in an empty room with a telephone, ostensibly to answer it. No notebooks, no books, no coat or bags were allowed in until eventually the employee quit out of bored desperation but, importantly, of his own “free” will. These developers started a lawsuit against Sega which they won; I’m not sure if it was settled or the company lost in court, as information is a little thin on the ground　even though the case was widely reported, but the corporation hasn’t used this trick since, almost no game company has.

Another problem with the Labour Standards Law is that the punitive measures are a bit on the low side, making it sill very much an attractive proposition for shady employers to try and circumvent the law. If only a few people bother to complain or take them to court they’re still better off than playing by the rules. Every year the government hands out fines to a lot of companies that have violated the working hours and overtime pay rules, but the list doesn’t seem to get shorter by the year. Of course a lot depends on the employees themselves taking responsibility and daring to complain, but in a country like Japan that is obviously not a strong point, shifting the balance of power firmly to the employers’ side. Still, it’s nice to know that if you’re being screwed at least you have a law behind you. Not that it is any consolation or safety net but at least you can rest assured you’re being screwed illegally. Here are some of the more interesting Labour Standard Laws:

Working conditions shall be those which should meet the needs of workers who live lives worthy of human beings.

This is a doozy, isn’t it? Obviously this provision is aimed at those working in harsh conditions and probably do manual labour, but the fact they included the “worthy of human beings” part makes it perfectly applicable to game development if, like me, you think it’s worthy of being human to see your kids and family at least every day or aren’t forced to eat convenience store food for dinner every night.

An employer shall not engage in discriminatory treatment with respect to wages, working hours or other working conditions by reason of the nationality, creed or social status of any worker.

I can’t comment on this too much. Every time I felt I was being held back for being a foreigner they throw some good excuse in my face like “your Japanese isn’t good enough”, which is a very hard fact to refute or disagree with. On top of that I get away with more and get paid more by simple virtue of my foreignness and my abrasive foreign ways. We should look at how the Chinese and other Asian colleagues are paid and though I have no hard evidence, proof or any information of any kind I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up at the lower end of the curve.

An employer shall not engage in discriminatory treatment of a woman as compared with a man with respect to wages by reason of the worker being a woman.

I have written before on the status and treatment of women in not just our industry but any kind of working environment in Japan. They are still seen as part-time workers until they get with child and inevitably quit. Why invest time and money in the career of an employee you know is going to step out as soon as she gets one in the oven or finds a lucrative husband? Sadly a lot of women actually encourage this kind of thinking by living up, quite willingly, to the stereotype. However, this makes it all the harder for those women who want to build a career. Though things are changing slowly I doubt Japanese businesses are fully compliant with this law yet.

A dismissal shall, where the dismissal lacks objectively rational grounds and is not considered to be appropriate in general societal terms, be treated as a misuse of that right and invalid.

Another strangely worded law, this seems to imply that you can’t just fire someone willy-nilly. These kinds of laws led in the past to the aforementioned “empty room” tactics and other strange ways to circumvent having to explain in court why your reasons are objectively rational. Still, compared to the west I see far less creatively staged dismissals than you’d expect. With a full-time contract most people seem to expect a certain level of job security which may or may not be warranted.

An employer shall not have a worker work more than 40 hours per week, excluding rest periods.

Excluding rest periods, which a later paragraph tells us is at least 1 hour for a working day of eight hours or more, which, believe me, is the standard in the game industry. So that makes a 45 hour week the accepted maximum, by law if not by your employer. Combine this with the following statement:

In the event that an employer extends working hours or has a worker work on rest days, pursuant to the provisions of Article 33 or paragraph 1 of the preceding Article, the employer shall pay increased wages for work during such hours or on such days at a rate no lower than the rate stipulated by cabinet order within the range of no less than 25 percent and no more than 50 percent over the normal wage per working hour or working day.

The Articles and paragraphs referred to concern trade union approval or the consensus of a committee or body made up of or representing the majority of employees, which, in all truth, I have never seen happen. But that’s besides the point. By law you have a right to expect overtime pay, so why aren’t you getting any?
A lot of companies get away with this with some semantics. Salaries, as stated on the contract, usually say something like “including overtime” or a portion of your monthly wages may be paid under the “overtime” header. It’s not overtime pay, of course, just a small percentage of your dues with a different name, but they can show that they do pay “overtime” this way. Even in the most optimistic interpretation it shows the mentality of this industry; overtime is a given, scheduling isn’t.
I am curious what would happen if an EA_Spouse kicks off a similar shitstorm in Japan; the chances of winning would appear good, especially as this is the one area where the government is slowly and, until now, ineffectually taking measures into hand

An employer shall provide workers at least one rest day per week.

The law has a proviso that states that alternatively it should amount to four days per four weeks. Here a big exclamation mark pops up over my head, Metal Gear style, that reminds me of the three months of weekends and continuous work I've done last year. Except, of course, I was not made to work weekends and holidays, merely “asked”. I could have declined and be perfectly in my right, but that would have cast a shadow over my continued employment. I would be the troublemaker not playing by the unwritten rules, not a team-player by dumping the extra work on my colleagues, etc. There are many devious ways to interpret this so to avoid getting into illegal trouble we often find ourselves just going along with it and foregoing a few free weekends and holidays. We’re all idiots.

When a woman for whose work during menstrual periods would be especially difficult has requested leave, the employee shall not have the said woman work on days of the menstrual period.

This one was an interesting surprise to me. Not being a woman, of course, I can’t really comment on it but from experience I see this is a little used excuse. One wonders why my female colleagues don't (ab)use this law.

An employee shall not exploit an apprentice, student, trainee or other worker, by whatever name such person may be called, by reason of the fact that such person is seeking to acquire a skill.

Maybe the word “shall” should be replace by “shouldn’t” as it certainly happens if you interpret “exploit” as “pay terribly low wages”. I’ve seen a lot of graduates enter this industry, often with a few months’ work placement to pave the way to their first contract. For the employer it means cheap and willing labour, for the graduate it means a foot in the door. Though both parties benefit to an extent, fair it is not and neither is it legal, apparently.

~ ~ ~

As you can see, there are plenty of laws out there to protect an employee’s interests. It’s up to us to make our employers adhere to them. We must speak up if these laws are broken, even if it endangers our short-term employment prospects. Without people willing to stand up for positive change things simply aren’t going to happen, and even in Japan where formal apologies can excuse the worst crimes and people are encouraged not to make a fuss because it’s generally embarrassing, there are avenues to protect your rights. Use them!!


WARNING! Reading up on laws and your rights is not enough. Contact the Labour Office or ask a lawyer for information before taking any action. Do not rely on internet-published PDF files or mouthy blog writers when it comes to matters of law!