From the moment players started trading screenshots and inquiring how some of Anno 117’s artwork appeared suspiciously symmetrical, extra smooth, or just … off, word spread quickly.
I’d been following the complaints as they came in, particularly how fans raged at Ubisoft after a report posted discussion something that detailed the ways several loading-screen illustrations bore telltale signs of AI quirks in a breakdown of the community’s discovery of generative artwork within it.
And really, I can see why the reaction was strong – Anno players are an audience pedantic about historicity, and AI cheats stick out like a neon sign in a marble temple.
Adding to the spice, Ubisoft’s subsequent release addressed the “placeholder” images: They had been a mistake that had made it through review.
That explanation spread in coverage of the company’s effort to dampen down crowd complaints, which echoed through an article about Ubisoft’s announcement that AI assets were included accidentally.
I have no doubt that something slipped somewhere, but it’s difficult to understand how the placeholder version would look polished enough to fool no one and frustrate everyone.
This whole situation made me think of a larger malaise lurking in the world of gaming, right down to developers dabbling with algorithm-generated screenshots.
Some analysts are already watching the trend, and you can see it in recent reporting on the rise of automated art at big productions, as well as in a conversation about how generative visuals are going mainstream within game development.
It’s causing me to wonder out loud if we’ve reached a fork in the road where studios are drawn to speed, players yearn for authenticity and the in-between space is … well let’s just say it’s hanging by threads.
To be fair, AI art is not always the villain. It has its moment – rapid prototyping, early drafting, testing vibes.
But rip away the comforting carapace of narrative excuse-making that grows organically around that concept, sever it from the likes of Rez or Ecco or Lemmings – and what are you left with?
And when it’s being pushed front-and-centre as a headline feature in a historical Megalophonemeg building game – well then it can only take us back to the age-old question: innovation, or simply cost-cutting in a clever-looking toga?
Particularly when with the latter, other recent releases aren’t kids side-eying visuals that feel weirdly plastic, as emerged from a discussion about whether or not tech-generated character designs work (as well as an investigation on what creators discovered while exploring AI-created cartoons). And that pattern is undeniable: players can sense when something is not human.
And here’s where I’ll bring my own perspective: game art carries emotion. It’s mood, history, style, texture.
When A.I. does that, impersonally and out of context, it’s as if a familiar song is played wrong by a quarter-tone – technically O.K., spiritually askew. And players feel that. They always do.
Whether Ubisoft fixes the images or alters its pipeline, this moment will remain as a further indication that AI in gaming is not longer merely a backstage trial. It’s right here, it’s in your face, and gamers will call it out every time if misses the target.
Looking for more on how other major Hollywood studios are treating AI art without causing a riot? I can pull that together too.