How Testing a VR Game Made Me Believe in Autostereoscopic Displays
Or, why you should watch what people do, not what they say (if they say anything).
A few years ago, while working as the head of the applications team at Dimenco (now part of Leia Inc.) we were exploring ways to enable VR games on autostereoscopic displays to accelerate content availability. The idea was simple: VR games already use stereoscopic vision, so getting the to work will enable a huge catalog. These were the days of the metaverse hype. Back then, the tech was rough, the prototypes were far from perfect, and our focus was to disprove that glasses-free 3D was just a gimmick. And just like that, one small experiment changed my perspective entirely, not because of what people said, but because of what they did.
The Prototype That Opened Our Eyes
The team had hacked together an early prototype using OpenVR and we found a game that used a regular gamepad as input controller. This was important because it avoided the nightmare of enabling motion-controller tracking. The setup was janky, the conversion wasn’t polished, and the 3D effect had quirks. But when we handed it to people, something unexpected happened:
They played… And kept playing… And kept playing…
No grand "wow" moment, no excited declarations—just quiet, focused enjoyment as they flew around in a chill, low-stakes game. The only reason they stopped? Running out of fuel.
Furthermore, while everyone that played already liked or found the technology interesting, not everyone was a gamer or usually enthusiastic about using these displays for hours. The biggest surprise wasn’t just the engagement, it was also who engaged. People who had no prior interest in VR or 3D displays spent far more time with it than we anticipated.
The Silent Signal
What struck me wasn’t their words (there were hardly any) but their behavior. Nobody raved about the tech, because to them, it wasn’t new, it was just fun. And that was the key. In business, we obsess over explicit feedback: Do they love it? Will they pay? But here, the metric was time: an invisible, undeniable transaction. They didn’t need to say anything; their engagement said enough.
This was the real lesson for me. It is easy to lie with words, far too easy. But the body? Much harder to deceive, and impossible to fake over time (ask professional poker players). I’ve watched competitors dismiss our technology while spending hours playing and enjoying with it afterward. Were they ever going to buy it? No, of course not. But that lingering engagement? That’s the tell. It means you’ve struck a nerve. And honestly? You should probably start bracing for a suspiciously "inspired" version to appear down the road.
The Other Lesson: Standards Enable Magic
This was a Frankenstein prototype, held together by OpenVR and optimism. Yet, despite its flaws, using an open standard meant we could repurpose existing content. Fast-forward to today, and that lesson still holds: Autostereoscopic displays face hurdles, but early experiments like this hinted at a path forward, like OpenXR compatibility becoming an expected feature.
Let me be clear: I’ve criticized standards (and tech consortiums) in the past, and I’ll keep holding them accountable until they actually deliver on their promise of reducing fragmentation. But make no mistake, for all their flaws, standards remain the bridge that turns niche tech into mainstream adoption.
The Takeaway
Note what people do, dismiss what they say. If people willingly give you their time (or attention, or effort), you’re onto something, even if they never say a word.