Almost a week ago, on the occasion of the Day of Hungarian Culture, a group of us—Hungarian game designers—gathered in an old building on the outskirts of the city to showcase two things: we are Hungarian, and we are game designers.

Although a few big names were missing, we still represented the Hungarian game design scene, and it felt great to introduce ourselves to the audience in such a focused way.

My first board game was published in 2016—back then, there weren’t many of us. Some were already in the field, some of us were just starting out, and many have joined since.

What has barely changed, however, is how Hungarian game designers are perceived. I know the board game scene well, and I can confidently say that Hungarian-designed games can compete with international titles. Yet, the mainstream still dominates the local market.

Obviously, I have a personal stake in this, but it also genuinely bothers me that something is often considered more popular or better simply because it’s foreign.

And I have a broader principle about why this event was so important.

The other day, I came across a post in a popular Hungarian board gaming group, where an experienced player admitted that they never check who designed a game—meaning they have no idea who created their favorites. If even a seasoned gamer approaches it this way, how could I expect the average buyer to notice the designer’s name on the box?

At least one thing is improving: the designer and illustrator’s names are now printed on the front of the box. Because this matters. This is creative, inventive, and meaningful work. It’s authorship.

I’m not saying that designing a board game is on the same level as writing a novel—though creating a complex euro game certainly requires more time, intellectual effort, and strategic thinking than writing a mediocre bestseller. So, I’m not trying to claim artistic prestige.

But games are a vital part of culture—and let’s not even bring Huizinga into this—and board games are games. That means game designers create something meaningful, and it’s worth recognizing them.