Being A Gay Game Developer

The 1980s: Closeted and Scared

Tim's first job was in 1981 at Pegasus (later Cyberon), a small game company he joined while still in high school. He was completely closeted. The AIDS crisis dominated the news, with constant messaging that being gay meant death — terrifying for a teenage Tim.

The Receptionist Incident

At Pegasus, a gay designer was hired for a bridge game. His boyfriend would visit the office, which seemed fine — until Tim overheard two young coworkers he admired (the "cool" artist and receptionist who talked about concerts and weed) complaining about the boyfriend's visits. When Tim pushed back, pointing out that other partners visited too, the receptionist dismissed him: "You wouldn't understand."

The gut punch: these were the two people at the entire company Tim felt he could have confided in. If even the seemingly liberal young people reacted this way, nowhere felt safe.

The Graduate School Tragedy

At UC Irvine in 1987–88, Tim witnessed a fellow student's life collapse. The student, a social ecology major, came out to his father, who immediately cut off all financial support and told him not to come home. Without funding, the student had to leave school. Tim and others helped him move out of student housing on short notice. Tim describes him as the most "absolutely dejected, demoralized person" he'd ever seen — someone who weeks before had been happy and driven, now with no idea what to do with his life. They lost touch entirely.

This reinforced Tim's conviction: nothing was safe.

The 1990s: Interplay and Pervasive Homophobia

Tim joined Interplay around 1991–92. The company culture resembled a college fraternity — mostly young, white, straight men. Casual homophobia was constant and normalized. "Gay" was used as a universal pejorative: "that movie was so gay," "that game is so gay." Tim can't recall a single day without it.

The Shower Problem

Interplay had a racquetball court with locker rooms. Senior people in the organization would refuse to shower afterward because the shower room was open, loudly stating they wouldn't risk it because "who knows who's gay here."

The Transition Incident

Around 1995, a colleague transitioned. She sent a thoughtful email explaining her situation and stating she would only use one specific women's restroom out of four to minimize discomfort. Despite this, Tim overheard a senior woman outside the office furiously complaining: "What if he's in the bathroom?" When Tim pointed out she'd specified which bathroom she'd use, the woman responded with the same dismissal he'd heard before: "You can't possibly understand."

The 2000s: Troika and Self-Censorship

Tim co-founded Troika but stayed closeted for most of it, fearing that being out could cost the company contracts. Their first game, Arcanum, shipped without content issues. But during Temple of Elemental Evil with Atari, significant content was cut — including a lesbian prostitute subplot in the village of Nobe that Atari demanded be removed (though they wouldn't put the request in writing as the contract required, so they instead asked for entire sections to be gutted).

Interestingly, Bertram the gay pirate survived all cuts and was never flagged for removal. He even got noticed by Time Magazine in an article about gay characters in video games.

The 2000s–2010s: Coming Out at Carbine

Tim came out after Temple of Elemental Evil and was open from day one when he joined Carbine Studios in late 2005. When he told producer Erica Milt he was bringing a male date to the holiday party, the response was simply "nope, no trouble."

At a dinner, NCSoft president Robert Garriott noticed Tim's engagement ring and asked if his "wife" had trouble with the long hours. Tim corrected him — "my fiancé, he doesn't have any trouble" — and Garriott immediately responded: "Do you have any trouble with homophobia here? If you do, just call me. We don't put up with that."

The Fist Fight

The one incident at Carbine: after a company party, a homophobic remark by an artist led to a physical fight with a gay designer on Tim's team. The art director handled it well — both received written warnings (one for the remark, one for throwing the first punch), with a clear message that any repeat would mean termination. Tim was relieved he didn't have to be "the gay director stomping in."

Marriage and Wikipedia

In 2011, Tim married on the beach in Provincetown, Massachusetts — where the Mayflower first landed. He later discovered that Peregrine White, the first baby born when the Mayflower arrived at Provincetown, was his great-great-great (many greats) grandfather.

He returned from his honeymoon to find his Wikipedia page had been vandalized — someone had listed him among the "top 100 gay game developers in tree" (or similar nonsense). It was fixed, but the pettiness stung.

Obsidian: The Best Workplace

Tim started at Obsidian a few months after his marriage and describes it as "the single most diverse, inclusive place I've ever worked at." He struggled to recall even one negative incident related to being gay.

The only recurring issue: blood drives. The Red Cross would visit, and coworkers would innocently ask why Tim wasn't donating. At one drive, a nurse directly asked him, and he had to explain that gay men couldn't give blood. This was especially frustrating because Tim is A-negative, a blood type in high demand.

The Death Threat and Leaving Social Media

In 2016, someone on Facebook who loved Fallout discovered Tim was gay and sent him a death threat. Facebook banned the account, but the person created a new one and — using a photo from Tim's backyard — figured out where he lived. Tim deleted all social media that day and never returned.

Conferences and Mentorship

In 2017, Tim began speaking at gaming conferences, including two gay gaming conferences in Australia. His motivation was visibility and mentorship. He realized that across his entire 40+ year career, he had never once had a mentor who shared his experience as a gay person in the industry. No one had been in the industry longer. He had no one to ask questions, no one for guidance.

At Obsidian, potential hires would sometimes pull him aside after interviews to ask: "I'm gay — is this place cool?" Tim could reassure them, but recognized he'd never been able to ask that question himself.

The Takeaway

Tim's concluding message is optimistic: things are significantly better than they were in the 1980s and 1990s. He knows many LGBTQ+ people in the industry who are well-received, bring valuable experiences, and contribute to more interesting characters and games. "Everything's better, nothing's worse because of this." The loud political negativity today doesn't reflect the actual progress that has been made.

References

• Tim Cain. YouTube video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8fmAt3Ro_Y