As I observe Saber Interactive’s CEO passionately discussing the potential of generative AI dialogue to enhance video games, I find myself grappling with a familiar sense of skepticism. This feeling has lingered ever since companies like Ubisoft began touting the promise of AI-driven “neo-NPCs.” On the surface, the concept seems appealing. In an era where the aspirations for expansive open-world games often exceed their budgets, the idea of populating these worlds with endless dialogue chains and narratives sounds almost utopian. Yet, the reality of implementing such technology has often fallen short, as evidenced by titles like Seed and Inzoi, which attempted to introduce “smart Zois” but ultimately missed the mark.
While I appreciate the entertainment value of these innovations, I find myself questioning the narrative they present. Convai, an AI NPC startup, aims to steer clear of a gaming landscape where background characters are relegated to repeating a single line ad nauseam. Meanwhile, Ubisoft envisions “fully personalized and immersive experiences,” suggesting that their neo-NPCs will breathe life into games, whatever that may entail. Companies like Meaning Machine are advocating for narrative-driven games entirely powered by AI, with the underlying dream being to use this technology to craft compelling stories.
However, this vision falters at a fundamental level. The assumption that the dialogue of background characters is insignificant is a misconception that undermines the essence of storytelling in video games. One of the medium’s greatest strengths lies in its ability to explore pacing in ways that other forms of storytelling cannot. While linear narratives in single-player games prioritize pacing, open-world games have the luxury of taking their time to develop intricate background details that enrich the player experience.
In defense of miscellany
Consider the town crier in a fantasy RPG, sharing news of distant events that players will eventually encounter. Such moments, while seemingly trivial, contribute significantly to the immersive quality of the game world. A prime example can be found in Cyberpunk 2077, where advertisements are meticulously crafted to evoke a sense of corporate overstimulation and existential dread as players navigate Night City. In contrast, the setting of Starfield feels lackluster compared to the richness of New Vegas, not solely due to its main storyline but because the latter’s locations and background chatter are thoughtfully designed to surprise and engage players. The procedural generation in Starfield, juxtaposed with its bland cities, detracts from the overall experience.
Imagine if the cities in Starfield were populated with AI-generated NPCs, each delivering disjointed and random tales—stories devoid of the shared laughter that often accompanies a poorly executed joke. The notion that AI-generated NPCs could serve as a panacea for smaller studios seeking to tell stories in expansive worlds is fundamentally flawed. The richness of these worlds arises from the painstakingly crafted scripts that writers labor over, and bypassing this hard work in favor of automation will not yield comparable results. The creativity embedded in the myriad choices made by a writing team is far more valuable than the broad concepts that initially inspire them. Every element, from background chatter to combat dialogue, plays a crucial role in shaping the player’s experience.
They think you can’t tell the difference
The prevailing attitude among industry executives suggests they believe they can pass off subpar content as acceptable, stemming from a broader misunderstanding of what constitutes quality art: people. This sentiment was echoed by Chris Hays of id Software, who observed Microsoft’s insistence that the studio remained unchanged despite significant layoffs. Similarly, EA executives have been criticized for assuming that dedicated fans will flock to any RPG simply because it bears the label. David Gaider, creator of Dragon Age, expressed his exhaustion with the idea of AI-generated narratives, while the quest director for Cyberpunk shared a similar lack of enthusiasm for the technology.
Industry veterans recognize that good storytelling is not merely a product of technology; it is rooted in the human experience. The dismissal of generative AI as a viable storytelling tool is not born from fear of job loss but from the understanding that its output often lacks the depth and nuance required for compelling narratives. The belief that consumers will accept inferior products is a profound insult. It implies that audiences are indifferent to the quality of music, visuals, or storytelling in games. This attitude reflects a broader trend in which video games are viewed as mere commodities rather than art forms.
As companies like Hasbro attempt to replicate the success of titles like Baldur’s Gate by simply reallocating funds, and as Amazon’s former head of games dismisses the importance of acting in video games, it becomes clear that a disconnect exists between the suits and the creative process. The prevailing mindset is one of artless commercialization, attempting to sell a bridge that simply does not exist. It is essential for consumers to resist this notion and demand the quality and creativity that truly elevate the gaming experience.
