How do I get the experience you're asking for if I'm never even allowed to come through the door?
Jorge Reyeros IIISenior Program Manager of Culture & Employee ExperienceThe story companies tell themselves about early-career hiring is that the talent isn't ready. The roles that once trained new people have thinned out, AI now does the low-level work that used to be a junior's proving ground, and hiring managers want someone who can contribute on day one. Framed that way, the shortage looks like a fact about the candidates. Reframed, it looks like a fact about the employers: the entry points that used to let talented people in have been designed out of existence, and no one has deliberately designed new ones. The distinction matters, because a shortage is something you wait out and a design problem is something you fix.
Jorge Reyeros III was most recently Senior Program Manager for Culture and Employee Experience at a major construction software company, outside the industry where he spent much of his earlier career. His vantage point comes from years in talent and university recruiting, including recruiting for Xbox in the gaming industry and early-career programs at Target and Amazon. Gaming, he says, is where the pressures squeezing entry-level talent show up in their most extreme form, which makes it a useful lens on a problem nearly every industry now shares.
"How do I get the experience you're asking for if I'm never even allowed to come through the door?" he asks. Reyeros has spent enough time on the hiring side to know that question rarely has a good answer, and that the dead end is built into how employers draw the entry point rather than into the people standing outside it.
Gaming shows the squeeze
Reyeros frames the gaming industry as the problem on steroids, because the industry stacks creative judgment on top of technical skill and then gates entry behind a credential almost no newcomer can have. Hiring there, he says, has long run on a single question: what have you shipped? "You'll hear from hiring managers, 'Have they shipped X number of games? Have they worked on certain types of games, live service?'" he says, describing a bar that functions less like a skills assessment than "a club that you have to join." For someone fresh out of school, the only currency on offer is coursework and internships, which rarely clears that bar.
AI has tightened the squeeze by absorbing exactly the work that used to let juniors in. "A lot of the work that it's doing is what would be considered early-in-career work," Reyeros notes, pointing to low-level coding and QA. When studios face tight budgets and tighter deadlines, and a market flooded with senior talent from layoffs, the math gets brutal for newcomers. The refrain he heard constantly from hiring managers captures it. "I need plug-and-play. I need someone who can come in with experience that I don't have to develop."
The bias that sets early-career talent back
Underneath the plug-and-play demand, Reyeros sees an unconscious bias about who early-career people are and what they can do. Veterans who entered the industry decades ago took a different route in, and they tend to assume the newcomers lack what they had. He thinks that reading is both wrong and a little hypocritical. "I hear from veteran folks, 'Well, I bootstrapped it and I did it myself.' These kids are bootstrapping it too, they're just doing it in a different way," he points out.
That different way is, increasingly, AI fluency the veterans lack. Reyeros describes a generation teaching itself the tools on its own dime, outside academic programs that have been slow to adapt. "They're AI native. They might not be learning it in their academic programs, but they're scrappy and learning it on their own," he says, often paying for tools themselves because they lack enterprise access. His blunt conclusion is that these candidates are frequently "more equipped than the veterans who are assessing them," which turns the hand-holding assumption on its head.
A better entry point is designed, not improvised
The fix Reyeros argues for is deliberate design of the path in, and he points to programs that already do it well rather than treating the problem as hopeless. He cites Xbox Game Camp, an incubator that gives early-career and indie developers access to technology and mentorship they wouldn't otherwise reach, and a PlayStation early-career program he describes as going well beyond a normal internship to expose newcomers to the real development cycle. What unites them, in his telling, is a premise worth copying: "talent is everywhere," not just in the coastal hubs that have long gatekept the industry.
The other half of design is what you actually hand an intern once they're in. Busy work is disqualifying, and he means that literally. "The days of internship programs where I have an intern making copies, those are over," he says. The standard he sets is relevance to the real work: a narrative intern writing a quest that ships, someone building a feature that goes into live service. He frames it as a two-way accountability. An intern is a customer embedded in your team, a direct line to the demographic that plays your games, and that access is wasted on filing. "If you're not willing to see the value in this, you shouldn't have an intern," he says, calling cheap-labor treatment of early-career talent disrespectful to people who are genuinely capable.
The problem is global, and the mindset is the lever
Reyeros is clear that none of this is unique to gaming, even if gaming shows it vividly. He saw the same manager-coaching and intern-design challenges supporting university recruiting at Target and Amazon, and he sees it now as a cross-industry condition sharpened by AI's reach into every sector. Academia, in his view, is lagging hardest, with too many institutions taking a defensive stance on AI while the students teach themselves what they'll need.
What he keeps returning to is that the binding constraint is a mindset, not a pipeline. The talent is capable, adaptive, and already fluent in the tools that matter; what's missing is employers willing to see that and build a real path accordingly. "We have to shift the mindset," he says, treating the redesign of entry points as a choice companies can make now rather than a cycle they have to wait out. His optimism is pointed that the problem is real, but it's a problem of design, and design is something leaders control.





