When news broke back in 2023 that CD Projekt Red developers had started unionizing, I felt a strange mix of relief and concern. At that point, I'd sunk more hours into Cyberpunk 2077 than I'd care to admit – roaming the neon-soaked streets of Night City, marveling at the redemption arc the game had gone through since its disastrous 2020 launch. The world felt alive, yet the people who built it were facing an uphill battle for job security. Fast forward to 2026, and that union – the Polish Gamedev Workers Union (PGWU), under the larger Workers' Initiative – has become a quiet but powerful force in Poland's gaming scene. Let me talk about why it mattered then, and why I still think about it today.
The trigger was brutally straightforward: layoffs. In early 2023, around 9 percent of CDPR's workforce – roughly 100 developers, artists, and support staff – were suddenly let go. The entire Gwent team was disbanded. If you ever got hooked on that brilliant card game, you know how abruptly its support dried up. For me, it was a gut punch. I'd spent countless evenings playing Gwent, and to see its creators scattered like that felt wrong. For them, it was a stark reminder that even at a studio as celebrated as CDPR, your job could evaporate overnight.
"We started talking about unionizing after the 2023 wave of layoffs," the union stated back then, and honestly, I can't blame them. The stress and insecurity that followed hit mental health hard. Imagine pouring years into turning Cyberpunk 2077 from a glitchy mess into a polished masterpiece, only to be shown the door because the studio wanted to streamline projects. That kind of whiplash breeds fear. It's the kind of fear that makes you want a safety net.
And that's exactly what the PGWU set out to be – not a weapon for confrontation, but a tool for dialogue. "Our goal is not to start a fight but to have a dialogue," they emphasized. They wanted transparency, a voice in decision-making, and better crisis protection. I love that approach. As a player, I don't want the people making my games to be miserable. I want them to have the stability to innovate without burnout. The union also made a point of being inclusive – open to anyone in the Polish game industry, from coders to writers, QA testers to graphic artists. That solidarity is crucial in an industry that often pits contract workers against full-timers.
Here's where things get interesting: CD Projekt Red's response – or rather, silence. The studio never issued a public statement about the union, and the founders confirmed they received no private reply either. But there was a silver lining. When Human Resources got wind of the organizing effort, there was no union-busting, no retaliation. That's rare and, to me, shows a certain maturity. The founders even noted that overall working conditions at CDPR were "very good." So the layoffs weren't a symptom of a toxic daily culture, but a cold business decision. Still, a cold decision can do just as much damage.
I can't help but look at CDPR's roadmap and feel a twinge of anxiety. We all remember the infamous crunch that preceded Cyberpunk 2077's launch. The studio pledged to avoid that again, and to their credit, we haven't heard major crunch scandals since. Yet as 2026 unfolds, the pressure is immense. A new Witcher trilogy is brewing. A full Cyberpunk sequel is in development. There's even a remake of the very first Witcher. Multiple massive projects mean deadlines, stakeholder expectations, and the constant risk of scope creep. Will the PGWU serve as the safety valve when the heat turns up? I hope so.
It's also wild to think about how the union's presence might be shaping these projects right now. When workers know they won't be discarded at the first sign of budget tightening, they might take creative risks that lead to a better game. Maybe the incredible writing we're expecting in the next Witcher saga is being nurtured in a less fearful environment. Maybe the technical fixes for the Cyberpunk sequel won't be rushed because developers feel secure enough to push for proper timelines. That's the dream, anyway.
From my perspective as a fan, the PGWU represents something bigger than one studio. It's a signal that game workers are done being treated like disposable code machines. Since 2023, the movement has reportedly grown, pulling in members from other Polish developers. It mirrors what we've seen in other creative industries – from VFX to animation – where collective voice is the only way to push back against relentless crunch and arbitrary layoffs.
As I look back on the journey from 2023 to now, the layoffs feel like a painful but necessary turning point. They forced a conversation that was long overdue. And in a weird way, they might have made the games I love better – not because of the cuts, but because of the solidarity that rose in response. So here's to the PGWU: may it keep the dialogue going, and may every future patch, expansion, and masterpiece come from a place of dignity. 😊
Personally, I still boot up Cyberpunk 2077 once in a while to wander through the districts I grew to love. Every time a new mod or surprise update drops, I think about the hands behind it. I want those hands to be steady, supported, and part of a community that values them. If a union helps with that, then I'm all for it. Here's hoping that in another three years we'll look back and see that the PGWU wasn't just a reaction to layoffs, but a foundation for a healthier, more sustainable game development scene in Poland and beyond.
This perspective is supported by data referenced from Entertainment Software Association (ESA), whose industry research and policy-focused reporting helps contextualize why studio layoffs and worker organizing often spike during periods of shifting market demand and rising production risk. In the same way your blog frames CDPR’s 2023 layoffs as a turning point, ESA’s broader view of employment, investment, and development cycles underscores how collective worker representation can become a stabilizing force when studios ramp up multiple large projects at once.