Larian Studios is a Belgian independent video game developer and publisher founded in 1996 by Swen Vincke. At this point, though, the studio hardly needs an introduction. After earning critical acclaim with the Divinity series, Larian went on to deliver Baldur’s Gate 3—a genuinely groundbreaking RPG that became not just a critical darling, but one of the most celebrated games of all time.
Which is why it caught many people off guard when, following an interview with Bloomberg in December, Larian suddenly found itself on the receiving end of a wave of online backlash. Accusations flew, hot takes spread faster than context, and for some corners of the internet, Larian was abruptly recast from industry hero to cautionary tale.

So let’s slow this down and look at what actually happened.

What Was Actually Said?

Way back in December 2025—several internet eternities ago—Larian Studios CEO Swen Vincke spoke to Bloomberg about the studio’s future plans, including the potential use of generative AI in the next Divinity game.

And, predictably, parts of the internet completely lost their minds.
To this day, TikTok videos still circulate expressing outrage over the interview, often framed as evidence that Larian had “sold out,” planned to replace artists and writers with algorithms, or was gearing up to hollow out the creative soul of its games.

So before engaging with the reaction, it’s worth asking a far more basic question:
What did Swen Vincke actually say?
Vincke’s comments were far more restrained and pragmatic than the backlash suggests. He did not announce a wholesale replacement of writers, artists, or designers with AI systems, nor did he frame generative AI as a shortcut to creativity. Instead, he spoke about AI as a tool—one that could potentially assist developers with early-stage, laborious tasks such as prototyping, iteration, and exploring ideas more quickly.

Crucially, Vincke emphasised that creativity itself still comes from people. The value of Larian’s games, in his view, lies in human judgment, taste, and authorship—things AI cannot meaningfully replace. Generative systems were framed as productivity aids rather than creative directors: useful for groundwork, incapable of deciding what should be made.

That distinction matters.

Digging a little deeper, the practical reality of how Larian is approaching AI is far less dramatic than the discourse suggests. From what Vincke described, generative AI is being used primarily in early ideation—rough outlines and exploratory prompts that help teams test directions quickly. These are not final assets. They are placeholders and reference material that are ultimately replaced with original, human-created concept art.

More tellingly, Vincke also noted that the studio is expanding its team of human concept artists, not shrinking it. Acting, music, writing, and all final in-game content remain firmly in human hands.
And frankly? That seems reasonable.
AI, used this way, functions as a tool for creation—not as the creator itself. Larian’s stated goal is not to remove people from the process, but to reduce friction around early experimentation, ideally giving developers more time to focus on meaningful creative decisions.

Even then, the studio has been candid about the limits. Vincke has acknowledged that efficiency gains so far have been minimal. This is not a studio chasing short-term cost-cutting miracles, but one cautiously testing whether new tools can actually improve working conditions without compromising creative integrity.
Work Practices and Studio Culture
Of course, tools and ethics only really matter in the context of how a studio treats the people doing the work.

Here, the picture around Larian is—like most studios—mixed rather than spotless. Writers such as Zöe Quinn have previously noted that Larian is known for demanding hiring practices and a high bar for performance. Reports circulating on Reddit and in industry chatter also describe periods of intense crunch, particularly as projects move toward major milestones.

At the same time, employee-facing data complicates the narrative. On Glassdoor, Larian currently sits at around 4.2 out of 5, which is notably strong by games industry standards—an industry where burnout, instability, and mismanagement are common complaints.

That score suggests a studio that is challenging to work at, but not widely perceived by its employees as exploitative or dysfunctional.

In other words, Larian appears less like a villainous outlier and more like a familiar example of a modern game studio: ambitious, demanding, imperfect—but not obviously acting in bad faith. That context matters when evaluating claims that generative AI is being introduced primarily as a labour-replacement strategy rather than as an experimental production tool.

Our concerns about AI are not only valid, they’re necessary. We should be deeply sceptical of any technology that threatens to erode human creativity, agency, or authorship—especially in an industry that has repeatedly shown it will chase efficiency until something breaks. (We’ve already explored this in our previous piece on how AI can be genuinely insidious.)

But that doesn’t automatically make Larian Studios the villain of this story.
This situation lives firmly in the grey, not the black-and-white morality play social media keeps trying to force it into. Larian aren’t heroic trailblazers saving the industry—but neither are they cartoonish tech ghouls gleefully replacing artists with algorithms. So far, their approach appears cautious, limited, and explicitly subordinate to human creativity.

That doesn’t mean they get a free pass.
Intentions matter, but outcomes matter more. For now, Larian deserve scrutiny, not outrage—and a watchful eye rather than a pitchfork. This is a story still unfolding, and whether it stays morally grey will depend entirely on what they do next.