In the spirit of education, the first thing I would like to impress upon you is one of the most surprising lessons I learned: Public speculation is always wrong. Always. Blizzard operated under a blanket of scrutiny, and only after I was in the meetings could I appreciate how inaccurate public analysis was. Unless you’re in the room, you have no idea what’s going on. Unless someone knows firsthand the reasons why a company makes decisions, popular conjecture is completely off. For a company as secretive as Blizzard, the tinfoil-hat theorizing about why we did anything was severe, cynical, and reactionary. It struck me how people universally assumed corporate decisions were thoughtless or callous—like if a feature was dropped, it was done so without regard for the feelings of the fan base. When decisions were made for financial grounds, people assumed it was because developers lacked imagination. Whenever technical or gameplay decisions were made, it was assumed the company was penny-pinching. I’m not even referring to the trolls dredging the game forums for flame wars; I’m talking about the intelligent, well-substantiated, and reasonable arguments about why Blizzard did this or why Blizzard did that. But…all of it was wrong and certainly not because the fan base was stupid. People were wrong because they considered only variables that were public knowledge—which were only a fraction of the pertinent factors.
Game development is incredibly complicated, and fans see only a few pieces of the puzzle. Games are often headless monsters; moved in different directions by technological, design, or financial limitations, instead of by anyone in the studio. Game development is sustained improvisation, and if this book can hold your attention long enough, maybe you’ll walk away understanding how many pieces it takes to build a massively multiplayer online game (MMO).
Development is often random and iterative. There are failures and discoveries, and the process zigzags until someone says, “Ship it!” Even some developers wouldn’t know what was happening on their own project until they got out of their seat and talked to the devs who had been in the room, in the meeting, and directly asked questions about what was going on. That’s basically what I did for four years—I got out of my seat and asked, “Whatcha working on?”