Veteran Thief Designer Argues Immersive Sims Do Not Need AAA Graphics Budgets

Randy Smith Evergreen, a veteran designer whose work includes multiple games in the Thief series, has made the case for a more restrained approach to modern immersive sims. His central argument is not that visual presentation is unimportant, or that players would reject spectacular environments. Rather, he questions whether the genre needs to pursue the enormous budgets associated with the current AAA graphics race in order to deliver the things players value most.

For Smith Evergreen, the answer appears to be no. A contemporary game built in the tradition of Thief or Deus Ex may be more sustainable at a relatively modest scale, with a compact, skilled team prioritizing high-quality content, systemic interaction, and a clear artistic atmosphere over expensive photorealistic fidelity. In his view, a project in the roughly $3 million to $10 million range can be a sensible target for this kind of game in 2026.

That position lands at a time when development costs have become one of the industry's largest concerns. Big-budget games can take many years, employ hundreds or thousands of people across internal and external teams, and require sales figures that make experimentation much harder to justify. Immersive sims, meanwhile, are influential and beloved, but they have historically occupied a complicated commercial space. Their fans tend to prize freedom and depth, yet the genre's design demands can make even a visually modest project difficult to build.

A Question of Scale, Not Ambition

Smith Evergreen pointed to the original Thief as a useful benchmark. That game reportedly cost about $3 million to develop, and he believes equivalent work could potentially be achieved for less today in some areas because developers have access to more ready-made tools and digital assets. Engines, middleware, online storefronts, asset marketplaces, and production knowledge have all changed dramatically since the original game's era.

For useful background on this topic, read Sora Joins Fortnite, and the Kingdom Hearts Crossover Looks Unsettlingly Different.

That does not mean making a compelling immersive sim has become easy. These games need levels that accommodate multiple approaches, believable rules for systems that overlap, and careful feedback so players understand the consequences of their choices. A guard's patrol route, lighting conditions, sound propagation, locked doors, climbable surfaces, inventory items, and mission objectives all need to work together. The entire appeal is built around the possibility that a player notices a solution the designer did not explicitly highlight.

But Smith Evergreen's point is that production spending should serve that design ambition instead of being consumed by a quest for ever-more detailed surfaces, character models, and cinematic spectacle. He questioned whether a Thief- or Deus Ex-style release costing around $3 million would necessarily sell radically fewer copies than one made for $250 million at a major studio.

It is a difficult question, and one without a simple universal answer. Larger productions can bring a marketing advantage, recognizable technology, polished animation, and environments that immediately attract attention in trailers and screenshots. Yet the cost of reaching that standard can put intense pressure on a game to appeal to the widest possible audience. For a genre defined by patience, experimentation, stealth, and player-led problem-solving, chasing the broadest imaginable audience may not always be compatible with its strengths.

"Why Do We Need More Graphics?"

Smith Evergreen framed his skepticism through an observation about graphical realism. Recalling the release of Alan Wake, he described reaching a point where the game already made its setting unmistakably clear: he could tell he was on a ferry, traveling toward an island in the Pacific Northwest. From that perspective, the core communicative job of the image had been achieved. Further graphical improvements, he argued, can demand tremendous resources without necessarily making the game more understandable or more enjoyable.

The remark is not a rejection of beautiful art. It is a question about diminishing returns. Visuals are essential when they establish place, mood, hazards, routes, interactable objects, and character. In stealth games in particular, the player must rapidly interpret what is light and shadow, which spaces are exposed, where a guard is looking, and whether an object can be used. Good visual direction is therefore closely tied to gameplay readability.

Photorealism, however, is only one route to readability and atmosphere. Strong lighting, distinct silhouettes, deliberate color use, coherent architecture, expressive audio, and an art style with clear priorities can all create an evocative space. A grim industrial alley, an aristocratic mansion, or a strange near-future office does not have to resemble a film set scanned at microscopic detail to invite curiosity and support meaningful choices.

This distinction matters for immersive sims because the genre asks players to pay attention. They search rooms, study patterns, test objects, exploit systems, and make plans. The visual language of the world has to be legible, but it also has to leave room for imagination. A smaller budget may limit the number of lavish vistas or highly detailed cinematic sequences, but it can still support spaces that are dense with possibility.

What Players Come to Immersive Sims For

Smith Evergreen acknowledged that fans would naturally enjoy immense spectacle and breathtaking environments at the quality associated with top-tier studios such as Arkane Lyon. The question he raised is whether that level of presentation is necessary for the reasons people seek out immersive sims in the first place.

For many players, the defining memory of an immersive sim is not a single scripted visual moment. It is the story of an improvised solution. Perhaps they found an overlooked route, created a distraction, used a tool in an unintended but logical way, or escaped a situation after a plan collapsed. Those moments come from systems that encourage experimentation and from level design that respects the player's ability to think.

A smaller project can still create those experiences if its scope is disciplined. Rather than attempting a vast city filled with hundreds of similarly detailed buildings, a team could focus on a smaller number of locations with layered paths and interacting mechanics. Rather than producing hours of expensive cinematic content, it could invest in missions that reward repeat playthroughs. Rather than simulating every possible detail, it could select a handful of systems that combine in surprising ways.

That approach does not make a game inherently better. Scope reduction can become an excuse for unfinished mechanics, thin worlds, or weak presentation. Smith Evergreen's emphasis is specifically on high-quality content, not simply low spending. A smaller game still needs a strong identity, polished controls, trustworthy rules, technical stability, and enough depth to make its systems worth learning. "Scrappy" should describe resourcefulness, not carelessness.

The Indie Opportunity and Its Limits

Smith Evergreen sees particular value in this direction for independent development. Indies may be better positioned to take risks that major publishers consider too narrow, especially when a project has a defined audience and avoids production costs that would require blockbuster-scale sales. A knowledgeable, passionate team that can move quickly may be able to make an immersive sim without trying to compete directly with the visual scale of the largest releases.

He highlighted FTL as an example of a game remembered for creativity and gameplay rather than extravagant technical presentation. Its success illustrates a broader principle: games can remain culturally important and commercially meaningful because their mechanics generate tension, stories, and replayability. Visuals support that experience, but do not always need to dominate the budget.

Still, immersive sims pose unusual challenges even for smaller studios. Their complexity is not limited to art production. Every extra player option can produce more testing requirements, more edge cases, and more opportunities for bugs. Designers must make flexible systems understandable without overwhelming newcomers. Developers also need to communicate a genre that can be difficult to summarize in a short trailer. A project may be cheaper than an AAA spectacle while remaining far from inexpensive.

That is why Smith Evergreen's suggested budget range is best understood as a proposed strategic model, not a formula. Different teams have different tools, staff experience, locations, asset needs, and technical goals. A first-person stealth game with elaborate physics and large environments will face different costs from a smaller systemic game viewed from above. The important idea is matching ambitions to the likely size of the audience instead of assuming every genre must follow the blockbuster model.

A Sustainable Case for Focused Design

The designer's comments speak to a wider debate about where games find their value. Technical advances are real, and striking visuals can create powerful first impressions. But as budgets rise, studios can lose flexibility, teams can face greater pressure, and a project's financial threshold can become detached from the scale that best serves its concept.

For immersive sims, focused design may be especially valuable. The genre lives or dies on whether players believe the world will respond to their ideas. That belief is earned through consistent systems, thoughtfully constructed spaces, and details that communicate possibility. None of those qualities require ignoring visuals. They require treating visuals as part of a larger design language rather than the sole measure of a game's ambition.

Smith Evergreen's argument ultimately favors deliberate limits. A modern immersive sim does not need to look cheap, and it does not need to abandon atmosphere or polish. But it may not need a $200 million-plus production budget either. If a smaller team can create a distinctive world, give players meaningful tools, and build missions that reward ingenuity, the result may provide precisely what fans of the genre are looking for--without staking its future on an expensive race for more graphics.