---
title: 'The Mechanic That''s Impossible to Balance'
source: 'https://youtube.com/watch?v=fMbVMO4FfHE'
video_id: 'fMbVMO4FfHE'
date: 2026-06-28
duration_sec: 0
---

# The Mechanic That's Impossible to Balance

> Source: [The Mechanic That's Impossible to Balance](https://youtube.com/watch?v=fMbVMO4FfHE)

## Summary

This video explores the complex role of failure in video game design. It argues that failure is essential for creating meaning and stakes, but balancing it to avoid frustrating players is a constant challenge. The video examines different types of failure, including runbacks and roguelite progression, and discusses how player skill and available time affect tolerance for punishment.

### Key Points

- **Failure is essential for meaning** [00:10] — Failure gives games stakes and meaning, making success feel earned.
- **Failure must be real, not just a threat** [01:14] — Players need the threat of failure, but if never experienced, the threat becomes meaningless.
- **Runbacks add friction** [01:52] — Runbacks force players to replay sections after death, which some like for added challenge but others find frustrating.
- **Elden Ring's checkpoint approach** [02:15] — Elden Ring places checkpoints right before bosses, allowing immediate retries.
- **Silksong's runbacks feel natural due to platforming** [04:13] — In Silksong, runbacks feel natural due to platforming mechanics, unlike in Dark Souls.
- **Roguelites soften failure with metaprogression** [06:02] — Roguelites soften failure through metaprogression where every failure improves the character.
- **Hades' Heat system allows gradual difficulty** [07:57] — The Heat system in Hades lets players gradually increase difficulty, avoiding sudden brick walls.
- **Time limits create tension but are widely disliked** [10:54] — Time limits can create tension, but players fear them due to potential wasted time.
- **Unsighted's innovative time limit mechanic** [11:59] — Unsighted uses time limits that force tough choices but avoid game overs.
- **Save scumming in Baldur's Gate 3** [15:40] — Players often save scum in Baldur's Gate 3 to avoid permanent consequences of choices.
- **Failure disproportionately affects less skilled players** [18:28] — Less skilled players experience more failure, creating a punishing loop, while skilled players get positive reinforcement.
- **Games have become more punishing over time** [20:37] — The average game has become more punishing over the last 15 years, partly due to Dark Souls' influence.
- **Possible future shift toward roguelite structures** [23:44] — Future games may shift toward roguelite structures to better balance failure and player progress.

## Transcript

There are many important aspects that 
make video games feel like video games,  
but one that I find especially interesting due 
to our complex relationship with it is failure.
Without some sort of setback, or at the 
very least the potential of a setback,  
games run the risk of losing meaning. The best 
way to make success feel good is by earning it,  
and so space for failure is a key 
part of almost any game’s design.  
This can take all sorts of forms, both big and 
small, harsh and forgiving. Frankly, there are  
tons of ways to incorporate it—it all comes 
down to what a game is aiming to make you feel
What makes failure tricky is that it is a 
thing we instinctively want to avoid. Like,  
when I come across a new boss in a game, a part of 
me always hopes that I will clear it on that first  
attempt. Of course, if I did first try every fight 
I came across, the feeling I would inevitably walk  
away with is that the game was too easy for me. 
It only actually feels good when it is rare.  
Despite our aversion to it, we need failure. 
The threat of it is what gives games stakes,  
it's what makes your inputs matter. And for 
it to really work, the threat can’t just be  
a threat—the consequences have to be carried 
out because if you never experience friction,  
the threat will no longer feel threatening, 
causing it to feel more like a ride than a game.
On the other hand though, there is only so much 
failure most players will be willing to endure,  
creating this push and pull for developers where 
they have to consider how to implement failure  
in a way that will feel meaningful and be 
in line with the type of experience they  
are trying to create without driving away 
their core player base out of frustration.
Over the past couple months, there has been 
a lot of discussion around Hollow Knight:  
Silksong for this reason. The game is incredibly 
difficult; the various gauntlets and boss fights  
will have you dying over and over again, and what 
has been one of the more controversial aspects is  
that in most cases, instead of respawning in a 
spot close to whatever fight you were just in,  
you most likely will be sent far, far away and 
need to engage in a dreaded runback. Runbacks  
have long been a part of metroidvanias and other 
genres that take heavy inspiration from them,  
but there has been a somewhat recent push 
away from them. A comparison I’ve seen a lot  
is with how Elden Ring does it, that being always 
providing some kind of checkpoint right by a boss,  
allowing players to immediately retry after 
a loss. The challenge is not the level as a  
whole but instead the boss, and this format 
pairs logically with the immense difficulty  
of some of these fights. They are balanced 
around the assumption that players will  
come in at full strength and therefore they 
pull very few punches. The friction comes  
from how difficult they are, not from 
how much they will punish the player.
In Silksong, bosses also seem balanced around the 
assumption that players will be coming in at full  
strength despite having to travel so far to get 
to them. In fairness, with Silksong, players are  
never that far away from being at full strength, 
as the primary resource they will deplete, Silk,  
can be recovered without any sort of item, 
unlike Elden Ring where the player can only  
restore their primary resource, flasks, by 
resting or dying. Also, after every death,  
Hornet leaves a cocoon behind, and breaking it 
fully restores her silk, creating the opportunity  
for the player to start every fight with a 
good amount of health. Regardless of that,  
there is still far more friction here. Every death 
has the weight of two failures, and instead of  
getting to keep practicing the part that caused 
them to fail, players have to work through a  
section that calls for a different skillset 
that they already feel like they overcame.
Now, despite what people who hate them will 
say, it should be noted that there are plenty  
of folks out there who do like runbacks, and 
particularly the ones in Silksong. They like  
that the challenge comes from mastering an 
area on a wider scale instead of in tiny  
segments. They like having space between 
attempts that push them to approach every  
fight with consideration instead of casually 
throwing themselves into a meatgrinder. They  
like finding the optimal path back and perfecting 
their movement through it. They may even like  
the temptation it creates to go somewhere else 
for a little while that they may have missed.
Sickos like this do exist. And, yes, I am 
sickos. I like Bilewater; I refuse to apologize.
Admittedly, while I have started to find runbacks 
to be a bit tiring in many soullikes I play,  
I didn’t have that same feeling in Silksong, 
largely due to it being a platformer. Where  
awkwardly weaving between enemies in Dark 
Souls kind of goes against what the game  
wants you to do, speeding through areas in 
Silksong feels natural and fun. There are a  
bunch of moves specifically designed to help you 
traverse areas and bypass enemies, so instead  
of it feeling like cheesing the intended 
design, it feels like the intended design.
Now, even as someone who found value in them, it 
is undeniable that this type of failure is grating  
for tons of people, and this largely comes down 
to how often any given player has to do it. Like,  
obviously runbacks will feel different to those 
who only end up doing 2 to 3 attempts per boss  
compared to those who come closer to 30 or 40. 
Doing more runs not only takes up more time,  
but also will lead to diminishing 
returns in terms of your improvement  
at the actual runback. For many, there is a 
good chance that after a bunch of attempts,  
getting back to the part they’re stuck on will 
become near mindless; leaving it feeling less  
like part of the challenge and more like 
a minute or two they’ll never get back.
Unsurprisingly, the more punishing failure is, the 
less patience players will have for it. Discourse  
around Silksong often gets boiled down to it 
being too hard, but as plenty of other people have  
started to point out, it has more to do with how 
punishing the game is than how difficult it is.  
They are obviously intertwined, but it's not 
as if the hardest parts of Silksong are so far  
beyond anything a game has ever done before; 
it's that failing at them means replaying  
a different hard part where dying on the way 
back could mean losing all of your hard earned  
money. It is a tension that is hard to hold and 
based on the discussions surrounding the game,  
it seems like for a good amount of people than 
tension shifted into frustration. Failure in  
Silksong can so easily beget more failure, and 
that kind of spiral downwards is hard to stomach.
Honestly, I think part of why roguelites 
have gained so much popularity is because  
a lot of them do the opposite of this. They 
are designed around small chunks of gameplay,  
where, yes, you most likely will fail time and 
time again before having anything that comes  
close to even looking like a successful run; 
but, due to various forms of metaprogression,  
every failure is a chance to improve your 
character whether it be increasing their stats or  
unlocking new moves or anything else that may give 
you an edge. Failure in a roguelite is expected,  
and the consolation is often that the playable 
character will be more effective. Even in games  
with horizontal progression where its more 
about increasing gameplay options over stats,  
having a wider pool of upgrades and 
abilities to choose from gives players  
more opportunities to craft powerful builds. 
The improvement is impossible to avoid,  
giving players a sort of permission structure 
in a way other types of games don’t.
For instance, a pretty common phenomenon with 
games like Silksong or Elden Ring is that players  
will come across a boss, be underpowered in 
some way, but still bash their head against  
it until they beat it. Typically, bosses like 
this aren’t designed to be brute forced. They are  
meant to be barriers that push players to explore 
elsewhere so they get more powerful and come back  
better equipped, you’ve heard all this before. 
However, doing that can feel like giving up,  
which isn’t easy for a lot of players to do. 
Exploring elsewhere is choosing to progress  
the character's ability over the player's 
ability, leading to the fight being inherently  
different when they do come back. If they get too 
powerful, the fight may not be challenging at all,  
and so beating the boss won’t feel nearly 
as satisfying because of a choice they  
made. However, in a roguelite, due to the 
structure, instead of coming back to a boss  
with a massive increase in the character’s power, 
it will almost certainly be a more gradual one,  
making it unlikely that the fight will be 
trivialized due to the increase and also causing  
it to be harder to deem what deserves more credit 
in the success: the character or the player.
Also, more and more roguelites have started 
to offer a number of ways to increase the  
challenge once the player has started 
to figure things out and substantially  
upgraded their character’s abilities. The Heat 
and Fear systems in the Hades series are solid  
examples of this. Before each run, players can 
select modifiers ranging from simple stuff like  
damage and health increases for enemies to more 
interesting obstacles like new versions of bosses,  
time limits—changes that have a significant 
effect on what a run feels like. It is a  
challenge players opt-into, customize to their 
liking and maybe most importantly can gradually  
implement. It lets them increase the challenge 
to make it clear that their own skill is what  
deserves the credit while making it rare to 
get the feeling of running into a brick wall.
All of this creates a system that offers a 
smooth, challenging and varied experience that,  
regardless of skill level, never 
feels like the player is doing the  
exact same thing over and over again. It 
softens failure in every conceivable way.
To be clear, I am not trying to say that 
this sort of implementation of failure is  
better than other types—it is just that it's 
a type of failure that broadly is easier for  
players to accept because it doesn't leave 
them feeling as if they've wasted their time.
A person's tolerance for failure depends 
on so many different factors, but one that  
looms larger than most is how much time they 
have to play games at all. If you only have  
an hour every few nights to play something, 
do you really want to spend that whole time  
dying to fucking Groal again? Most players 
want to feel as if they are making progress  
within any given gaming session, and even if 
they are getting a tiny bit better each fight,  
that isn't necessarily going to be felt 
in the way or at the speed they may want.
The right amount of failure is a hard thing 
to measure. It is so dependent on the goals  
of a game and the state of mind of the 
player, and frankly what I'd argue is  
generally the ideal amount sort of exists on 
a razor's edge. I’d say the best time to beat  
a boss is when you are on the brink, when 
one more loss will push you over the edge,  
and so, especially with games that aim to be more 
punishing with their failure, where the number of  
times you are willing to fail is relatively low, 
it is all too easy to get pushed past that point.
Of course, failure isn’t always tied to having 
to replay a section multiple times. It can also  
be used to shape what happens next whether 
that be narratively or gameplay-wise. While  
this type of failure may seem like it'd be 
more appealing to those worried about having  
their time wasted as it doesn't force them 
to do the same thing over and over again,  
many seem averse to this approach as well. 
This is probably most true when it is tied  
to gameplay. If you get thrown into a high 
pressure situation that could lead to the  
permanent death of an NPC or something, 
the stakes may create valuable tension,  
but failing will be a hard thing to accept. Not 
only can it fundamentally change the narrative  
experience but also there is a decent chance that 
the failure may come from you simply not realizing  
what you were supposed to do, making it feel less 
like your character was unable to save someone,  
and more like a miscommunication 
between the player and the game.
Even though plenty of people like to be 
tested on their mastery of mechanics,  
they don't necessarily want the 
result of those kinds of tests  
to have a lasting impact. They want to be 
able to have the space to figure things out,  
and the fear of dealing with longterm 
punishment can be a massive deterrent.
This fear is a big part of why 
people hate time limits in games,  
especially ones that span the entire play 
through. While I do think there are ways  
to balance titles to protect against this, a 
lot of people fear the idea of early failures  
putting them so far behind that by the time 
they figure the game out, it will be too late.
A fairly common critique I received on my recent 
video where I defended time limits and discussed  
some games that I think would have been better 
if they had one is that I didn't fully address  
the ways this fear can play out; what happens 
when you actually run out of time? In hindsight  
I wish I would have because I think there are 
both a lot of good and interesting alternatives  
to being forced to start the game over; and that 
it would have better supported the thesis of that  
video which is that no matter how interesting 
the inclusion of a timer can make a game,  
the discomfort they create will still 
never appeal to the majority of players.
For instance, instead of getting a game over, 
running out of time or running low on time  
could simply lead to some other consequence. In 
Unsighted, which yes is always my go-to example  
when talking about titles that use time limits 
well, unsurprisingly has a great approach to this.  
Every character, including your own, only has a 
certain amount of in-game hours to live, and their  
life can be extended through the use of a resource 
that can be found throughout the world. This gives  
a good reason to explore despite the time limit 
and also creates a personal goal to keep as many  
characters alive as possible. However, if the 
playable character gets low enough on time,  
they are presented with the option to sacrifice 
other characters to get time back. There are  
certainly less brutal ways a game could go about 
this, but doing something along these lines that  
fundamentally change character relationships or 
places you can visit without drawing the ire of  
those who live there or anything else that brings 
a change to your relationship with world can be  
effective ways of providing near unlimited time 
while not cheapening the impact of running out of  
it. Another approach that could work with a system 
like this or even just stand on its own is to let  
the player continue playing even after running 
out of time, but have that impact the ending  
they get. Depending on the complexity of the game 
this could mean all sorts of different things,  
but it would ensure that the player doesn't miss 
out on the core beats of the game and story.
Now, the problem with these approaches is that 
they make you feel bad. Even if it isn't as  
drastic as sacrificing other characters, doing 
something that severs a relationship with those  
you've come to care about, while narratively 
intriguing, is a lot, and if the alternative is  
a game over, you will pretty much have to do it or 
quit, and this could takeaway your favorite part  
of game simply because you weren't quick enough. 
Even in a set up where it could just lead to a  
bad ending for your character, this also can feel 
frustrating as people generally want to get what  
is considered the good ending, the true ending, 
and so anything else feels like time wasted. And  
as most people are probably only gonna play a 
game one time, the potential for a bad outcome  
doesn't feel worth it for most. This increases the 
chances that a likely player behavior will be to  
look up the most efficient path or over powered 
builds as to avoid the negative consequences.
Honestly, this sentiment often exists even when 
skill is not part of the equation. This can be  
seen with games that have meaningful 
choices within them. While on paper,  
most players would say that they want to 
play a game where their choices matter,  
I don’t know that that is what they actually 
want. More than there being a lot of choices  
that matter, I think what the majority of folks 
want is for the story to play out in the way they  
want it to play out. Obviously this doesn’t 
apply to everyone—some people love making a  
choice and living with the consequence of that 
choice. However, a lot of players want to feel  
in control. They want to know that the choice 
they are making is the right one. The one that  
will get them the best ending or atleast the 
ending they will be happiest with. Especially if  
you’re only going to play a game once, you 
don’t want everything to go wrong because  
you gave the wrong fatherly advice or because you 
interpreted the words of a character incorrectly.
What’s weird is that I imagine the majority 
of folks would agree that the most interesting  
and engaging kinds of choices tend to 
be ones where what the outcome will  
be is not clear. The kind that gets the 
player to stop and think about what could  
happen. What could go right, what could go wrong, 
and then try to make the best choice they can,  
whether that be based on the things 
they personally value or the things  
the character they are playing as values. 
However, based on conversations I’ve had,  
posts I’ve read, playthroughs I’ve watched, 
most people struggle with not actually knowing.  
There is a reason why major gaming publications 
post guides for endings and romances for every  
major release that includes choices surrounding 
them—people rely on them to avoid losing out.
This gets even more complicated when luck is added 
to the mix. Back when it released there was a ton  
of discourse around Baldur’s Gate 3 in regards 
to reloading saves, less kindly known as save  
scumming. Whether it was to undo the consequences 
of any given choice or an unfortunate roll, it  
became a wildly popular way to approach the game. 
In some ways this seems to be the antithesis of  
what players should do when playing a title like 
Baldur’s Gate 3, one that is based on Dungeons  
and Dragons, the ultimate example of a game where 
players have to live with their failures. However,  
the mindset someone approaches a tabletop rpg 
with is not the same that they approach a video  
game with. While there is a whole cottage industry 
examining Game Master horror stories, if you have  
a halfway decent group to play with, chances are 
you will have some level of trust in your GM to  
craft an experience that feels satisfying, that 
twists failures to be as interesting as successes,  
that has payoffs for everything. But that 
is a lot harder to do with a video game.
They can’t be as accommodating or nuanced as a 
person can be; they can’t pull you aside and ask  
how you felt about how something played out 
and adjust accordingly, so outcomes can feel  
more harsh because of that. For instance, if you 
fail the strength checks to pull Gale out of the  
portal at the start of the game, you just don’t 
get Gale in your playthrough. Admittedly you’d  
have to be pretty unlucky to miss in this way, but 
it could happen. Not to mention there is also a  
chance that the player misreads the situation. 
They see a hand out of a portal and worry that  
it is going to try to pull them in and miss him 
for that reason. Even though this kind of result  
would allow players to focus more on the other 
brilliant characters in the game and ultimately  
have to navigate situations later on in much 
different ways, it is hard for many to accept that  
a character as beloved as Gale, one who is vital 
to the experience of most other players literally  
will never be a part of theirs. This might work 
in a vacuum, but as information about characters  
and games is often thrust upon us, it is near 
impossible to not have some fear of missing out.
Obviously this is one of the more extreme 
examples of a potential outcome in Baldur’s  
Gate 3, but even with choices that have a 
smaller impact, the fear of missing out on  
characters or events is hard for players 
to shake. And so these kinds of failures  
that make choices more interesting also 
make it more likely that players will  
avoid falling into them whether that is through 
reloading a checkpoint or looking up a guide.
What it always seems to come back to in one way 
or another is that players don't want to feel as  
if their time is being wasted. They don’t want 
to put hours and hours into something and not  
get back whatever it is they hope to get out 
of the experience. While many of us do waste  
tons of time on things we barely even think about, 
there's something about playing a game that feels  
different. It's more of an investment; it’s an 
active choice, and a part of their appeal is the  
promise of control. Of being able to progress 
and overcome obstacles, of being able to have  
a desired outcome. Failure is what makes this 
control matter, but it is also what interrupts it,  
what in some cases puts it in jeopardy. It is a 
thing that players need, but don't often want.
And one of the most unfortunate things about it 
is that, with most games, the players who are  
the least interested in experiencing failure, 
are often the ones experiencing it the most.  
Obviously there are many things that go into 
any given player's taste, but there does seem  
to be a correlation between being more skilled at 
a game and wanting a higher level of challenge and  
punishment. It is the search for the sweet spot, 
the balance that will get you in the flow state;  
but so often, especially in titles with a single 
static difficulty, those players aren’t dealing  
with the consequences of failure. They aren’t 
doing 40 runbacks to a boss, running out of  
time after dozens and dozens of hours in a game, 
losing resources from dying. Instead, they are the  
ones getting through with far less friction and in 
some games are rewarded for that by getting more  
experience or access to weapons sooner, creating 
a snowball effect that makes things easier for  
them. Meanwhile, those a bit less skilled get 
hit with negative feedback loops that get them  
stuck for far longer. To be clear, being less 
skilled at games doesn't necessarily mean not  
wanting to deal with failure at all; I'd imagine 
there are some who do just want smooth sailing  
all the way through, but, I’d imagine many want 
to be in their own sweet spot, however, getting  
punished this often and this severely pushes them 
outside of it. In some ways, it makes it so those  
failing the most and those failing the least, wish 
they could have an experience more like the other.
While difficulty discourse has long been at 
the forefront of gaming discussions, over  
the past couple years it has started to feel a bit 
different. There seems to be a fatigue setting in,  
and it's not just that a new group of people who 
have never liked more punishing desing are joining  
the conversation; it's that a lot of people who 
used to be more onboard with this kind of design,  
have started to sour on it. There are a lot 
of things that could explain this shift, from  
the general mental exhaustion of being a human in 
our current digital and cultural age to gamers as  
a whole getting older and older thus having less 
time and patience for punishing forms of failure;  
as far as things directly related to the industry 
though, I think it is important to acknowledge the  
Dark Souls of it all. Obviously, Dark Souls 
did not invent being hard, but it’s approach  
to difficulty has been massively influential. 
Not only has FromSoft launched themselves from  
being a niche studio to one of the most popular 
ones out there, but countless other developers,  
indie, AAA, and everything in between, have 
taken cues from the Souls series. And it's  
not even that there are too many soulslikes now, 
although I know plenty would argue that there are;  
it's that more and more games in all types of 
genres have adopted aspects from the Souls series,  
leading to the average game now being more 
punishing than the average game 15 years ago.  
After an era of streamlined titles, the pendulum 
has swung back, certainly not anywhere close  
to where it was in the 80s and early 90s, but 
games, as a whole have moved in that direction.  
I don't think this is exactly a bad thing, and I 
am sure many of you have welcomed games becoming  
a bit more punishing, but it feels like we're 
starting to hit the edges of what a broader  
audience is interested in engaging with. As 
the average game has increased in difficulty  
and harder ones have continuously tried to top 
themselves to present a new level of challenge,  
failure feels heavier than it has in a long 
time. And when mixed with how most things  
in life feel heavier now than they have in a 
long time, it is no real surprise that there  
has started to be more pushback; that general 
audiences have grown tired of the heaviness they  
experience within the hobby they turn to in order 
to escape all the other stuff for a little while.
Failure makes games better. In some ways it is 
what makes them games at all, but submitting to  
it is no easy feat as there is no guarantee that 
the reward will feel worth it. That your time will  
be respected. And part of this is because what any 
given person views as their time being respected  
will vary greatly depending on countless factors 
that developers can’t realistically control for. 
Not to mention, at the end of the day games 
are not designed expressly with you, or,  
more tragically, with me in mind; they 
instead are designed for the nebulous us,  
more specifically for subsections of the nebulous 
us, and as that us gets bigger and bigger,  
and those subsections become more varied, more 
and more people will fall outside of the target.
All of this amplifies the frustration that 
comes with failure, and I don't blame anyone  
for feeling this way. I do think there is value in 
submitting to failure. I also think sometimes we  
are so averse to it that we don't even allow it to 
be an option, which is a shame. Due to our natural  
inclination to avoid it, I think it can be hard 
to identify what amount of failure and what kind  
of failure we will be okay dealing with. We write 
something off a bit too quickly. With that said,  
it is quite easy to get pushed too far. This is a 
big part of what makes it so hard for developers  
to balance. They are trying to find a line that 
is so circumstantial, a line that is frankly hard  
to hit even in games that offer players plenty 
of ways to augment the difficulty, a line the  
players are instinctively trying to push against, 
so it makes sense that it often feels off one  
way or another. I expect to see games shift 
in the other direction as a response to the  
current state of things. Truthfully, I wouldn't be 
surprised to see more and more games move toward  
structures more reminiscent of roguelites, and I 
think this is kind of supported by the fact that  
tons of major studios have experimented with them. 
Whatever happens, I do hope you continue to fail,  
and I hope it is just the right amount of 
failure to leave you feeling accomplished.
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delivery, and if you order using my link in the  
description you can get 33% off for 1-2 displates, 
38% off if you order 3, and 40% off if you get 4  
or more. All in all, Displates look great and are 
easy to manage, and now is the best time to grab  
one for those you love as well as yourself. 
Thanks to Displate for sponsoring this video.
For all of you still here, hello. I'd like 
to thank my patrons for making this channel  
possible. I've been doing this for a while now. 
It's pretty cool. And anyone who's watching to  
this point in the video, you're responsible for 
that. So, thank you. And if you're doing it out of  
hate…respect. I hope you have a great day and/or 
night, and I'll see you in the next one. Bye.