There’s a conversation I keep having in interviews and networking calls. Someone asks what I do, and I say: production, game design, some programming, communication between teams. And I can see the slight hesitation — so, what are you, really?
The game industry rewards specialists. Senior engineer. Lead artist. Principal designer. These titles are clear. A generalist title is harder to find on a job board.
But here’s what I’ve come to believe: the most underserved role in game development is the person who speaks everyone’s language.
Studios break down not because the developers can’t code or the artists can’t design. They break down because the developer and the artist don’t understand each other’s constraints. Because production is making promises that design can’t keep. Because nobody is holding the whole picture.
That’s the generalist’s job. Not to be the best at any single thing — but to be the connective tissue that makes a team more than the sum of its parts.
I’ve stopped apologising for being a generalist. It’s a skill. A hard one. And studios that figure that out tend to ship better games.