Small Weird Crews

One very good way to think of your team as you embark on something is that the team itself is a quest. You are coming together to create a sort of interactive story that you're all going to build part of, and that story is going to go somewhere.

What is the purpose we're doing? What's the genre we're in? Who's on the team? How does the story unfold? All of these apply to small teams and to excellence generally.

"Building an awesome game uses the same principles as building an awesome small team. Think quest purpose. Think character selection and development arc."

— Mike Shatford

One of the things you notice in its absence—when you don't have a clear, coherent direction, everything feels a little bit formless.

"For me, a game idea is a platonic ideal that we are always striving to achieve. Once I can see a thing in my head, my job becomes all about how to help guide people to it."

— Raphael von Lierop, Hinterland

Where are we going? If you can't answer that question clearly, watch out.

Trust is either there or it's not. And if it's not, it drags down everything you do. Without it, you can't move fast. You can't delegate. You can't have hard conversations.

"Trust is built by clear expectations and consistent delivery. If delivery doesn't match expectations, even if the work is good, trust is eroded."

— Sam Dungey

Trust is head, heart, and gut. Connect it to purpose, every day.

When the team or company tells you "oh, we're just a great big family here"—run.

Families can't lay each other off. Families can't quit. Families are literally for life. Can you genuinely say the same about the people you're working with?

We can build great things without pretending we are a family.

Three or more, fifteen being the sweet spot, certainly much less than fifty. By definition, it's curated. Bespoke. Individuals who bring character and personality that doesn't fit into a statistical machine.

"Your team doesn't want to work with the 'LinkedIn' version of you. Character and confidence isn't visible in our triumphs alone; it's revealed in the challenges we face, the mistakes we make."

— Emma Procter

In doing anything interesting, neurodivergence is the norm. Different brain functions all over the place. We're not cookie cutters. And this is great.

"Creating a diverse team is difficult—financially, time-wise, emotionally—but absolutely 100% worth it. The stories we're able to create together are so much more than anything I could have imagined myself."

— Jevon Wright, Adaptory

We look at OCEAN: Open, Conscientious, Extraverted, Agreeable, Neurotic. Favour people who are fundamentally open. Very strongly favour conscientious—if there's one thing to look for, it's that.

Character archetypes: The Enthusiastic but Flakey Cowboy. The Nurturing Earth Mother. The Obsessive Spreadsheet Fixer. The Community Guard Dog. All workable. All have obvious ways to match with something else.

The trust you build together is the most important thing. It's grounded in character. Those two—trust and character—are far more important than personality. This is not about being likeable or being friends.

And all of that is far more important than personal politics. Small teams that remember this tend to be much higher-functioning.

Three gigantic red flags. This was a point of real agreement across everyone.

Duplicity: If someone defaults to "I am going to trick everyone," that trait cannot exist in a high-functioning small team.

Negativity: If it's a foundational character quality and they're not going to change, that's a sign.

Passivity: The most subtle. People who are nice but won't do anything unless told to. You'll probably like them. You'll probably become incredibly frustrated.

One Person Plus Followers: The genius surrounded by enablers. Workable, but everything depends on one person's capability ceiling.

"We Are a Collective": Completely democratic. Everything goes to a vote. Pretty categorically, this doesn't work. Under pressure, collectives immediately realise they need structure.

Three Founders: Teams of three guys or three women are often stronger if at least one gender is flipped. Not political—just experience.

The blob is decision-making by consensus where no one has accountability. No one makes the call until everything falls apart.

You want some structure—doesn't have to be rigid. But if you're having three-hour discussions with no decisions? That's a symptom.

"Make sure you have at least one person on your leadership team who isn't a creative. You need someone laser-focused on the business side."

— Josh Tsui

Some level of core dissonance, disagreement, tension is incredibly useful. You almost always see it in lasting crews. Think of two front people in a band who disagree on everything but make great music.

But bullying is not useful. In New Zealand, because we're "too nice," bullies get way too much room. Tension is people with strong viewpoints vying for the best solution. Bullying is one person running rampant.

Traps on both sides. Stupid hierarchy—where rank matters more than contribution. Social savagery—the informal cruelty in flat organisations, the whisper networks.

Neither serves your crew. Both will poison the well.

"Our critics mock the new and the bold and those deadly serious about their missions. 'Are you not in on the joke?' It's irony all the way down."

When you start doing difficult things you're serious about, the irony drops off. You accept you're in this for real. Irony corrodes commitment. Commitment is what small crews run on.

In special forces, the ratio of active specialists to support can be 20:1. For every person doing the thing, up to 20 people supporting them.

You will overestimate your resilience, and underestimate your support needs.

You can't go full-ball forever. At some point it crests, everyone burns out, and you realise you should have had rhythm.

One Hit, Can't Repeat: We did the thing. Now we have second-album syndrome.

"We Fell Into a Gold Mine!": We accidentally did it. Now we're trying to do it deliberately.

"We Have a Process": The rare studio that figured out how to repeat.

"Just on the Journey, Bro": No real direction. Just vibes.

Once you're up and running, you're in a rhythm. Make decisions. Do the thing. Repeat.

My default: make decisions as fast as you can without going off the rails. But for really big decisions, delay them as long as you can until you have everything you need.

Decisions are the rope ladder of what you're building.

It's great being Queen at Wembley. It's great being a punk band at local clubs. Both work really well. The middle is often challenging. This is the barbell theory.

You can't copy-paste another team's success. Queen were four weirdos at an exact time and place with exactly that combo of skills and passions.

It's ingredients, not formula. If you're doing ambitious things, you have to find your magic.

If you have a size you want to stay at—for me, fifteen—be aware of what happens if you go beyond that.

Success is a trap. "We have the money to hire twenty more. Nothing will change." It changes.

Be aware of yourself circling the black hole.

The joy of these teams. Why we do it.

Being under pressure is not the problem—if you're doing it well, it's a joy. An absolute crazy roller coaster of fun.

You're five people, locked in. You don't need 500. You can do this. And it's incredibly rewarding when you do.

"Don't strike while the iron is hot, but make the iron hot by striking."

— Oliver Cromwell (via Paul Moon)

It is never the "right time" to do something bold. Right now is the worst time in years to start a game company. Except some people are starting one.

Almost all strong tech companies were founded during downturns when everyone knew it was the worst time.

Trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust, trust.

Do not forget that one as a basic one.

"One of my personal ambitions as a creator is to make 'heavy' things. Cultural productions that will be left on the beach when all the ephemeral content has been washed out by the tide. You can erect monuments with a handful of friends. The future is physical. Build for all time."

— Jason Killingsworth, Tune & Fairweather

In a world of lightweight, disposable content, there's massive competitive advantage in building things that last. Heavy things are harder to make. They require obsessed teams.

Heavy doesn't mean complicated. It means built to matter. Built to last.