This is actually another important aspect of the AI debate. Don't cower before the mob. Do what you believe in. Harsh words, insults, and online outrage shouldn't stop you from making a game, building an app, or pursuing whatever creative project you're passionate about. You don't need their permission. And they're big mad about it.

You don't want to drink coffee.

GATEKEEPERS WITHOUT GATES For years, aspiring game developers were told that ideas were worthless. That execution was everything. And to a large extent, they were right. Everyone has ideas. Very few have the technical skills, resources, time, and perseverance required to turn them into actual games. But here's the thing: that reality also served as a natural barrier to entry. The industry didn't need explicit gatekeepers. The gates were already there. Programming, art, animation, sound design, production. Each demanded skills that took years to develop, money to outsource, or extraordinary amounts of time to learn. Most aspiring creators never made it past those barriers. And then came AI. Suddenly, people who had spent years imagining games but lacked the technical means to build them could actually start creating. Not effortlessly, not without challenges, and certainly not always successfully. But the barriers were dramatically lowered. And something interesting happened. A community that had spent years insisting that ideas were worthless because execution was what mattered suddenly began insisting that execution wasn't enough either. Now it was about the process. About putting in the hours. About earning the right to call yourself a developer. About whether you had suffered enough, learned the right skills, or used the approved tools. The goalposts moved. And I think that's where a significant part of the hostility toward AI-assisted development comes from. For a long time, technical expertise wasn't merely a skill. It was also an implicit qualification for belonging. AI challenged that arrangement. And when the natural barriers began to disappear, some of the very people who had celebrated the openness and inclusivity of the indie community suddenly found themselves acting as its gatekeepers. Except this time, they couldn't rely on technical barriers to keep newcomers out. So they turned to social ones. Public shaming. Harassment campaigns. Boycotts. Intimidation. Attempts to make developers afraid of admitting which tools they use. It's a familiar playbook, reminiscent of the worst excesses of cancel culture: when you can't prevent someone from participating, you try to make participation socially unbearable. Ultimately, AI doesn't guarantee good games. It doesn't magically turn every idea into a masterpiece. Taste, judgment, creativity, iteration, and execution still matter enormously. What it changes is who gets a chance to execute. And that's what makes this moment so disruptive. The people who once lacked the means to participate no longer necessarily need anyone's permission, approval, or validation. Social gatekeeping only works when enough people agree to enforce it. And it becomes increasingly difficult to enforce when the people being excluded can simply create, publish, and reach players anyway. The gates were forced open. And no amount of shouting at the people walking through them will put them back.

These people, man... “Just ask AI to generate an entire new game engine.” Okay, do it. Show us. Enlighten us all. You'll make billions of dollars and gain millions of fans worldwide. Go ahead. Do it.

I'm facing a similar issue with a game I'm developing. It would theoretically work better with PvP, but as a small indie developer, you simply can't count on having the player base needed to sustain multiplayer. My situation is slightly different, though, since I originally designed the game as a single-player roguelike, with multiplayer as a potential addition. So my approach is to focus on making the single-player experience good enough to stand on its own, then introduce multiplayer if there's sufficient interest. Bots can certainly help, but only if the game is simple enough that they can provide a meaningful challenge without requiring particularly sophisticated AI.

I find a large part of the anti-AI crowd incredibly disingenuous when arguing in favor of mandatory AI disclosure on Steam. I'm personally in favor of disclosure. I want developers to openly release genuinely good AI-assisted games and gradually change public perception through the quality of their work. But let's not pretend everyone demanding disclosure has the same intentions. Many of these people know perfectly well that AI disclosures can be used to identify games for ideological review bombing, regardless of their actual quality. Some openly encourage that behavior. And instead of acknowledging this very real concern, they conveniently frame developers' reluctance to disclose as proof that we're somehow ashamed of using AI. We're not ashamed. We simply recognize that there's a difference between transparency and handing a target list to people who have already decided to hate your game without playing it. If you genuinely want transparency, you should also be willing to condemn those who weaponize it. Otherwise, spare us the moral grandstanding.

See, the thing with you people is that you've constructed a persona in your head, and you're applying it indiscriminately to everyone who uses AI. You don't know anything about me. ANYTHING. Yet you're perfectly comfortable ascribing motives, intentions, and character flaws to me because it allows you to feel righteous. So let me correct you on two things, and only two. 1) I ENCOURAGE AI disclosure. I'm not particularly proud of using AI, just as I'm not proud of using Excel or Keynote. They're tools. But I'm certainly not ashamed of it either. I recognize that there's a stigma attached to AI, partly because of grifters cloning existing games, producing low-effort scams, and flooding social media with ridiculous engagement bait about how Claude supposedly built an entire game in one prompt. But that stigma is also perpetuated by people like you, who refuse to engage with the actual facts, endlessly repeat questionable claims about energy consumption, insist that AI requires zero effort, and casually label everyone using it as lazy or talentless. And above all, you seem convinced that your personal worldview, morals, and ethics are universal. Well, here's something you might find difficult to comprehend: I do not share your values. And you are not the sole arbiter of what is true, good, or morally acceptable. I ENCOURAGE DISCLOSURE precisely because I believe the fastest way to overcome this stigma is to make genuinely good games while openly acknowledging the use of AI. Of course, the most fanatical opponents will never recognize anything positive about AI, regardless of the evidence. But I'm not trying to convince them. My audience is gamers. Because I'm a game developer. 2) DO NOT lecture me about passion or hard work. I've probably worked more over the past four years than you have in your entire fucking life. Notice the word probably. That's because, unlike you, I recognize that you're an individual whose life and circumstances I know nothing about. I wouldn't feel comfortable casually dismissing your efforts, because at the end of the day, you're a complete stranger. I'm extending you a courtesy you clearly don't feel obligated to return. I've been working my ass off for years, and I genuinely enjoy it, even when it's difficult. dDay and night. Weekends and holidays. I've explored countless ideas, experimented with countless tools, and spent an absurd amount of time learning, failing, rebuilding, and refining. I've learned to read code. I've learned Photoshop and Illustrator. I've learned CapCut. And yes, I've learned to use AI effectively. I've sacrificed sleep, vacations, personal time, and even career opportunities because I genuinely love what I'm doing. And I don't regret it one bit. So don't you dare lecture me about passion. Have you ever been passionate enough about something to make real sacrifices for it? Because when I look at your feed, all I see is someone commenting, reacting, criticizing, and consuming. What have you created that gives you the confidence to pass such sweeping judgments on complete strangers? You don't have to like my games. You don't have to buy them. But stop mistaking your contempt for moral superiority. You're just parroting the same tired talking points. Not one original thought, not one independent argument. You've chosen your tribe, and now you dutifully repeat whatever that tribe tells you to think. Just look at the replies under practically any post about AI. The same accusations, the same insults, the same moral grandstanding, repeated almost word for word. And somehow, you've convinced yourself that repeating the consensus of your own echo chamber makes you an independent thinker. You accuse others of outsourcing their thinking to AI, yet you seem perfectly content outsourcing yours to the crowd. "Gamedev is usually about a passion of something". Bitch please.

Feast your ears on this masterpiece. youtube.com/watch?v=D4ro8OTK…

I may be reading too much into this, but this could be a 5D chess move. By publicly pushing Valve to drop its AI disclosure requirement, @TimSweeneyEpic might actually be putting them in a position where reversing course looks like conceding to a competitor. If he genuinely believes AI is the future of game development, and Valve doubles down on a policy that increasingly alienates AI-assisted developers, Epic could eventually position itself as the more welcoming alternative. Of course, that assumes Valve takes the bait, developers actually care enough to switch platforms, and Sweeney is playing a much longer game. Or I could be reading far too much into it.

A rare disagreement. I understand Tim's point, but I believe we need to openly disclose AI usage while making genuinely good games. That's the only way we'll overcome the stigma. We need a Malfoid moment for gaming: a massively successful game that proudly embraces its use of AI and forces people to reconsider their assumptions. No amount of arguing will accomplish what such a success could. And once that shift happens, AI disclosure will gradually become irrelevant anyway. I suspect the overwhelming majority of developers will eventually use AI in some capacity. At that point, it simply won't be noteworthy anymore.

I actually agree with this. Developers should proudly disclose their use of AI. Not for the same reasons as this poster, obviously, but the end goal is the same. If we want to overcome the stigma surrounding AI, we need more courage and transparency. Review bombing is a legitimate concern, but I'd like to believe it would lose much of its impact if AI-assisted development became openly acknowledged and commonplace.

My one weakness is that I don't have an active Discord account. Never really have. I've just never liked the platform. But I do realize that a huge part of the gaming community is there, so I might have to reconsider.

Just shows how anger and hate can blind otherwise smart people. Some people in this thread are seriously pointing out that the hand has six fingers as if that wasn’t the entire joke. Last time I’ll tag you, @TimSweeneyEpic, but seeing how responsive you’ve been to the game jam idea has earned you a lot of respect in my eyes. Truly, thank you. And kudos to your team too.

Gamedevs should have more ambition. AI doesn't automatically produce originality (or quality for that matter), but it can make pursuing original ideas considerably more feasible. AI is giving individual developers and small teams an unprecedented ability to prototype, experiment, discard, and iterate at a fraction of the traditional cost. An idea that once required months of work and substantial investment to validate might now be tested in days or weeks. And an ambitious project that would previously have been dismissed as financially unrealistic might suddenly become achievable. This doesn't mean AI will magically turn mediocre ideas into great games. Creative vision, judgment, experience, and countless hours of refinement remain indispensable. But when the cost of experimentation falls dramatically, so does the cost of failure. And when failure becomes affordable, developers can afford to take far greater creative risks. That's why I find the categorical opposition to AI in game development so shortsighted. We're potentially looking at one of the most powerful tools for creative experimentation the industry has ever seen.