The Case Against Perfection: Duke Nukem Forever

For those of you who are familiar with videogames, the name Duke Nukem is no doubt a known moniker in your mental lexicon. The protagonist anti-hero of the mid-90s shoot-’em-up by the same name, Duke Nukem revolutionized the idea of what a video game could be and how far it could go. Quickly becoming one of the top-selling videogames of all time, the game made its creators, 3D Realms, ridiculously wealthy and its fans absolutely ravenous for a sequel.
3D Realms started working on that sequel in 1997.
They never completed it.
In May 2009, the company, drained of funds, closed its doors.
So why tell this story now, almost three years on? Plenty of others have already written about this, Wired being the best journalistic example. But there’s a unique connection to Fishbird ideas (or lack thereof) in the failed story of Duke Nukem, one that we’ll summarize here.
It’s a fairly simple story.
Looking to knock the ball out of the figurative park with their Duke Nukem sequel, 3D Realms set out to create the best game ever. They threw big money into the project, hiring the best designers, the best coders. Every element had to look intensely realistic. Every gameplay moment had to be jaw-dropping. Awe-inspiring. And in theory, it was a great goal. But there was a problem with the goal: 3D Realms wasn’t working in a vacuum. Technology changes so quickly that the greatest looking game today looks amateurish tomorrow. You’re always playing catch-up. That’s where 3D Realms found itself. The team scrapped all of its work multiple times after playing competitors’ games, seeing the latest graphics in action, believing their game had to be even better.
Five years went by.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Fans were screaming for a new Duke Nukem.
3D Realms needed more time.
Another year went by. Staff left. Money got spent. The head guys at 3D Realms went to their publisher, hat in hands, looking for more money to finish the job. Instead, they got sued.
And 3D Realms was gone.
The Duke Nukem sequel came out last year, completed by another company. Called Duke Nukem Forever, the game was said to be one of the worst ever made. It’s the perfect case study of what happens when you get attached to perfection. It’s like a dog running on linoleum: lots of action, but no movement. With unlimited resources and no by-when, the team at 3D Realms basically scrutinized their dream project into oblivion.
At Fishbird, we don’t deal with perfection. It strangles creativity and output. If what you’re committed to is getting it perfect, you’ll produce pretty predictable results. Breakthroughs require us to break from getting it right, and simply get it out into the world.


