"Too Romantic About Job Security": How One CEO's Comments Expose Gaming's Broken Relationship With Its Workers

When Ustwo Games CEO Maria Sayans stood before an audience at London Games Fest and declared that the industry had been "a little bit too romantic about the idea that we should have employees and give people long-term job security," she didn't just make a controversial statement. She inadvertently pulled back the curtain on a truth the gaming industry has been trying to hide beneath polished press releases and quarterly earnings calls: that the people who make our favorite games are increasingly seen as liabilities, not assets.

The statement came from the CEO of a studio that created Monument Valley, one of the most celebrated mobile games of the past decade—a title that won Apple's Game of the Year, spawned a sequel, and generated millions in revenue. If a studio with that pedigree can't afford to treat its workers as anything more than temporary contractors, what does that say about the industry as a whole?

The Quote That Sums It All Up

Sayans' comments weren't a slip of the tongue. They were a carefully framed argument about Ustwo's future direction. According to her, the studio's financial model is unsustainable. Development budgets for its games range from £7 million to £10 million, yet the studio employs fewer than 30 people. Her proposed solution? Rely more heavily on contractors. "We'll see that we've got a core team and any growth will come through contractors, which is something I hate about the industry," she admitted, acknowledging the irony of her own position.

The framing is revealing. Sayans frames job security as a romantic ideal—something nice in theory but impractical in the "real world" of game development. This language echoes a broader industry rhetoric where stable employment is positioned as a luxury, not a standard. It's the same logic that has normalized crunch culture, contract instability, and mass layoffs across the sector.

The irony cuts deeper when you consider that Sayans has been in the industry for two decades. She acknowledged that those who entered gaming in the early 2000s "had it very good," but suggested that stability is no longer feasible. For a generation of developers facing housing crises, student debt, and gig economy precarity, this framing feels less like wisdom and more like surrender.

The Numbers Don't Lie—But They Also Don't Tell the Whole Story

Ustwo Games is not a struggling indie studio scraping by on fumes. The Monument Valley series was a commercial and critical phenomenon. Its sequel was Apple's iPhone Game of the Year in 2017. The studio's artistic pedigree is undeniable.

Yet the financial picture Sayans painted is stark. Despite Monument Valley's success, Ustwo's pivot to PC and console, along with its advice to price games higher ("If in doubt, price it a little bit higher because you can always discount later"), signals that even hit studios struggle to sustain permanent employment. Sayans noted that mobile no longer offers a "solid base to build a long-term business around."

To be fair, mobile game development is notoriously volatile, and Ustwo's £7–10 million budgets are real. But the question isn't whether costs are high—it's whether the burden should fall on workers or on leadership's expectations of profit margins. Sayans lamented that Ustwo, based in London, cannot achieve the lower operating costs of competitors that don't offer benefits like pensions. It's a statement that critics have interpreted as blaming workers for the studio's inability to compete with cheaper labor markets.

The Industry's "Profits First, People Second" Playbook

Ustwo's situation is not an isolated case. It's part of a pattern that has defined the 2025–2026 gaming landscape. Microsoft/Activision Blizzard, Sony/PlayStation, and countless others have announced mass layoffs despite reporting record revenues. The industry has undergone a structural shift: from creative studios where developers were collaborators to corporate entities where they are line items on a spreadsheet.

The consequences extend beyond immediate job losses. A 2025 IGDA survey found that 40% of developers with 10+ years of experience are considering leaving the industry. This "brain drain" threatens long-term innovation. When the people who understand your engine, your tools, and your creative vision are treated as disposable, the quality of the final product inevitably suffers.

Counterexamples exist. Valve operates without traditional management hierarchy and has maintained profitability for decades. Nintendo has weathered economic storms while retaining its workforce. Supergiant Games continues to produce critical darlings without resorting to contract-based development. These studios demonstrate that profitability and worker security are not mutually exclusive—they require intentional leadership and a different set of priorities.

The Developer Backlash and What It Means for Ustwo's Future

The response to Sayans' comments has been swift and pointed. On Reddit's r/pcgaming, user Gorotheninja articulated what many developers were thinking: that the quote is "tone-deaf" and emblematic of industry rot. Across social media, developers shared stories of burnout, contract instability, and the emotional toll of being treated as expendable. One developer on X wrote, "I've been in this industry for 15 years and I've never felt more disposable."

The practical consequences for Ustwo could be significant. Job candidates may now think twice before applying. The studio's reputation among the indie and creative community—a community that values collaboration and mutual respect—has taken a hit. The label "union-busters" has been attached to Ustwo, placing the studio in a broader context of anti-union sentiment that has plagued both gaming and tech.

This backlash may push other studios to publicly commit to better employment practices. Or it could accelerate the trend toward contract-based development, as executives see that even successful studios are retreating from permanent employment. The outcome depends on whether developers and players demand accountability.

The gaming industry faces a choice. It can continue treating developers as disposable fuel for quarterly profits, or it can rebuild a model where creativity and stability are not opposites. Sayans' comments are not an anomaly—they are a symptom of a system that has lost its way.

The gaming industry doesn't need more consumer guilt—it needs developers who can organize, executives who will listen, and a culture that treats job security as a baseline, not a romance. Because if a successful studio like Ustwo can't afford job security, the question isn't what hope there is for the rest—it's what we're willing to accept as normal.