The Thermite Window
The plan, as David Kushner reconstructs it in Masters of Doom, was clever in the way that only a fourteen-year-old's plan can be clever. A group of boys in suburban Kansas City wanted the Apple II computers sitting inside a nearby school. John Carmack, the smartest of them, worked out how to get through the glass: a paste of thermite and Vaseline that would melt a hole in the window without the noise of breaking it. The chemistry worked. The logistics did not. One of his accomplices could not fit through the opening, reached in to unlatch the window instead, and tripped a silent alarm. The police arrived, Carmack was arrested, and a psychological evaluation went badly enough that he was sentenced to a year in a juvenile home.
It is an odd origin story for a man who would become one of the most admired engineers of his generation, but it contains most of the elements that would define him. He wanted better tools than he was allowed to have. He solved the technical problem first and thought about everything else later. And he had a habit of treating rules as one more constraint to engineer around, a habit that would take decades, a jury trial, and a great deal of money to temper.
Within ten years of that night, Carmack would be the lead programmer of Wolfenstein 3D, Doom, and Quake, the three games that turned the first-person shooter from a curiosity into the dominant genre of PC gaming. He would pioneer real-time 3D techniques that the rest of the industry spent years absorbing, give away the source code to his engines, fund a rocket company out of his own pocket, help bring consumer virtual reality into existence, and then walk away from all of it to work on artificial general intelligence. Through every one of those chapters, the working method stayed the same: find the hardest technical problem in the room, sit with it for as long as it takes, and ship the answer.
By the Numbers
Carmack's Career in Figures
Feb 1, 1991Date id Software was founded in Shreveport, Louisiana
Dec 10, 1993Date the Doom shareware episode was uploaded to the internet
4thCarmack's place in the Academy of Interactive Arts & Sciences Hall of Fame (inducted 2001)
$350,000Lunar Lander Challenge Level 1 prize won by Armadillo Aerospace (2008)
~$2BPrice Facebook agreed to pay for Oculus VR in March 2014
$20MFirst funding round for Keen Technologies, his AGI company (2022)
A Kansas City Kid and an Apple II
John D. Carmack II was born in August 1970 in Shawnee Mission, Kansas, the son of Stan Carmack, a local television news reporter, and his wife Inga. Most references give his birthday as August 20; Carmack himself has said it is the 21st. He grew up in the Kansas City metropolitan area and, like many children of that era, was introduced to video games in arcades. Space Invaders and Pac-Man left deep impressions, and he would later name Nintendo's Shigeru Miyamoto as the designer he most admired.
The machine that mattered was the Apple II. Carmack taught himself to program on it and grew frustrated with how little of it he could access. The frustration was not abstract. The break-in was an attempt to get more hardware, and the year in juvenile detention that followed cost him time he considered precious. He attended Shawnee Mission East High School in Prairie Village, Kansas, and later Raytown South High School across the state line in Raytown, Missouri, where he is listed in the class of 1988.
School did not suit him. He spent a short time at a university in the Kansas City area (accounts differ on which) before withdrawing to program full time as a freelancer. He wrote small games and utilities and sold them to the computer magazines and disk publishers that were then the main outlet for independent programmers. One of those buyers was Softdisk, a company in Shreveport, Louisiana, that shipped monthly collections of software to subscribers. Softdisk liked his work enough to offer him a job.
The move to Shreveport put Carmack in a building with the people who would become his partners. There was John Romero, a prolific, fast-talking programmer and designer who had already published dozens of games. There was Tom Hall, an inventive designer with a comic sensibility. And there was Adrian Carmack, an artist with a taste for the grotesque who, despite the shared surname, was no relation. Softdisk assigned the group to a new, short-lived subscription product for IBM PC users called Gamer's Edge. They were meant to ship a game every couple of months. In practice they treated the office as a laboratory.
Smooth Scrolling and a Letter from Nintendo
In 1990 the IBM PC was a poor machine for action games. Its graphics hardware was built for spreadsheets, and it could not do what the Nintendo Entertainment System did effortlessly: slide a detailed background across the screen at a steady frame rate while characters moved over it. Redrawing the full screen every frame was too slow. Carmack's solution, which he called adaptive tile refresh, was to redraw only the tiles that had changed and to use the display hardware's own scrolling capability to shift everything else. It was a trick of bookkeeping rather than brute force, and it made console-style side-scrolling possible on ordinary PCs.
To prove the point, Carmack and Tom Hall stayed up one night in September 1990 and built a copy of the first level of Super Mario Bros. 3 running on a PC. Romero saw it the next morning and, as he later recalled, immediately wanted to start a company. The group sent the demo to Nintendo in the hope of winning a contract to bring Nintendo's games to the PC. Nintendo declined; it had no interest in its franchises appearing on someone else's hardware. The demo sat in obscurity for decades until a copy surfaced publicly in 2015.
Rejection by Nintendo turned out to be useful. Around the same time, Scott Miller of Apogee Software in Texas had been trying to reach Romero, sending a stream of fan letters under different names because Softdisk screened its employees' mail. When Romero realized all the letters came from one address, Miller explained that he wanted the team to make games for Apogee. Apogee sold through shareware: the first episode of a game was given away and copied freely, and players who wanted more mailed in money for the rest.
The team took the scrolling engine and built Commander Keen in Invasion of the Vorticons, released through Apogee on December 14, 1990. Keen was a hit by shareware standards, and the royalty checks made the math obvious. On February 1, 1991, Carmack, Romero, Adrian Carmack, and Tom Hall formally founded id Software in Shreveport. The name came from the group's earlier moniker, Ideas from the Deep, with letters dropped.
For a while, id was still bound to Softdisk by contract, turning out small games for Gamer's Edge while making Keen episodes for Apogee. In September 1991 the team relocated to Madison, Wisconsin, at Hall's suggestion. The Midwestern winter was miserable, and the group spent it indoors, working. In April 1992 they moved again, this time to Mesquite, Texas, near Apogee, where Miller had agreed to raise their royalty rate so they could concentrate on their next game.
Into the Third Dimension
Carmack had been experimenting with 3D rendering since the Keen days. Hovertank 3D, released through Softdisk in 1991, used a technique called ray casting: for each vertical column of the screen, cast a ray from the player's eye into a two-dimensional map, find the first wall it hits, and draw a vertical slice whose height depends on the distance. Because the map was a flat grid and all the walls were the same height, the computation was cheap enough for the PCs of the day. Catacomb 3-D, released later in 1991, added texture-mapped walls after Carmack saw what Blue Sky Productions was attempting with Ultima Underworld and decided he could get texture mapping without sacrificing speed.
The engine that emerged powered Wolfenstein 3D, which Apogee released as shareware on May 5, 1992. The game dropped the player into a Nazi castle with a pistol and asked them to shoot their way out. It was fast, violent, and unlike anything most PC owners had seen. The design was simple by modern standards: flat floors, uniform ceilings, doors that slid sideways. What made it feel new was that the world moved around the player smoothly enough to create a sense of physical presence. Earlier first-person games, including id's own Catacomb titles, had pointed in this direction. Wolfenstein was the one that found a mass audience.
The game also made id's first real money and first real controversy. Its Nazi imagery ran afoul of German law, and the Super Nintendo port that id later handled had its swastikas, blood, and attack dogs stripped out at Nintendo of America's insistence. The dogs became giant mutant rats. For Carmack, the more consequential outcome of the Super Nintendo port was technical. Wolfenstein's ray caster ran too slowly on Nintendo's hardware, so he went looking for a better approach and found binary space partitioning, a technique from the academic graphics literature that precomputes how a level's geometry divides space. He would soon need it for something much bigger.
Doom
Doom was designed to go beyond everything Wolfenstein could not do. Floors and ceilings could be at different heights. Rooms could be lit unevenly, with flickering lights and dark corners. Walls could meet at any angle. The setting was a military base on a moon of Mars overrun by demons, and the tone was closer to a horror film than a war movie.
Early in development, Carmack's renderer slowed to a crawl on Romero's increasingly elaborate level designs. The fix was the binary space partitioning approach he had first used on the Super Nintendo Wolfenstein. By preprocessing each level into a tree that sorted its surfaces, the engine could walk through the geometry in front-to-back order at run time and draw only what the player could see. Doom became the first game to use the technique, and the choice of an obscure research method to solve a practical speed problem became one of the most retold stories about Carmack's engineering.
The project also broke the original id partnership. Tom Hall had written an elaborate design document for Doom with characters and a story. Carmack thought the story was a distraction from the game he wanted to build, and his view prevailed. Kushner's book records his summary of the matter in terms that have followed him ever since.
Story in a game is like a story in a porn movie. It's expected to be there, but it's not that important.
— John Carmack, quoted in David Kushner's Masters of Doom, 2003
Hall was forced out of the company in August 1993 and joined Apogee's in-house studio, later known as 3D Realms. Sandy Petersen and Dave Taylor were hired to fill the gap.
id published Doom itself, without Apogee, using the same shareware model. At midnight on December 10, 1993, after a final thirty-hour testing session, the team uploaded the first episode to a University of Wisconsin FTP server whose administrator had volunteered to host it. So many people were already waiting that id could not log in, and the upload went through only after other users were kicked off. When it finished, the flood of downloads crashed the server. Within days, university networks were restricting Doom's multiplayer mode because the traffic was swamping them.
That multiplayer mode was one of Doom's quiet revolutions. Up to four players on a local network could cooperate or fight each other in what the team called deathmatch. Another was the decision to separate the game's engine from its data. Levels, sounds, and graphics lived in files that players could replace, and within months a community of amateur designers was producing new levels by the thousands. id encouraged it. Carmack believed players who could modify a game would keep playing it, and that some of them would become the next generation of developers. Many did.
Doom made id rich and Carmack famous. By mid-1994, Kushner reports, he had bought two Ferraris. He also had a reputation for working hours that few colleagues could match and for treating every other concern, from office politics to press requests, as an interruption.
Quake and the Cost of Obsession
For the next game, Carmack wanted a truly three-dimensional world. Doom's levels were fundamentally flat maps with heights attached; you could not stack one room directly above another or look straight up. Quake would have polygonal models, full freedom of movement, and a renderer that treated space in three dimensions. Carmack brought in Michael Abrash, a respected graphics programmer and author, to help with the optimization. Among the techniques Carmack developed was surface caching, which precomputed lit textures so the engine could apply lighting without recalculating it for every pixel each frame.
Quake shipped on June 22, 1996. Its engine was a leap. Its development was, by nearly every account, grim. The team had planned an ambitious game with a new kind of design; the technology took so long that the design collapsed into something closer to a darker Doom in three dimensions. Tension between Carmack, who wanted to focus on the engine and ship, and Romero, who wanted to lead a larger creative vision and was spending time on outside interests, came to a head. Romero left id after Quake's release. Others followed. Carmack later described Quake's development as traumatic and said id could have split the game in two and shipped sooner.
Quake's lasting contribution was the internet. Doom had been a local-network game; Quake was built around a client-server model that let players connect to servers over the internet. A follow-up release, QuakeWorld, added client-side prediction so that players on slow dial-up connections could move without waiting for the server to confirm every step. Clans formed, leagues organized, and an early competitive scene took shape. At the Red Annihilation tournament in 1997, Carmack gave away his own Ferrari 328 as the prize. Dennis Fong, playing as Thresh, won it.
The engine business grew alongside the games. id had licensed its technology since the early Keen days, and the Quake engine became one of the most influential in the industry. Valve's Half-Life was built on a heavily modified version of it, and later id engines powered games in the Call of Duty and Medal of Honor lineages. Carmack professed little interest in running a licensing operation; he preferred building the next engine to supporting the last one. But licensing kept id small, profitable, and independent while its technology spread far beyond its own titles.
The .plan Files and the Open Code
For much of the 1990s and early 2000s, Carmack communicated with the world through a file on id's server. On Unix systems, a user's .plan file was displayed to anyone who ran the finger command against their account, and Carmack used his as a work log and essay page. He wrote about what he was building, which techniques had failed, which graphics hardware he liked, and why. His late-1996 critique of Microsoft's Direct3D interface, and his preference for the open OpenGL standard, was read closely by hardware makers and developers at a moment when the industry was deciding which graphics interface to support.
The same impulse toward openness shaped his view of source code. Carmack released the source for Wolfenstein 3D in 1995 and for Doom in 1997, the latter first under a restrictive license and then under the GNU General Public License in 1999. When Quake's source leaked in 1997 after a licensee was hacked, a programmer named Greg Alexander used it to build a Linux port and sent Carmack his patches. Rather than pursue him, id used the work as the basis of an official Linux version. The source for Quake followed under the GPL in 1999, Quake II in 2001, Quake III in 2005, and Doom 3 in 2011. The rough rule was that an engine's code would be released once it was about five years old and no longer commercially important.
The releases made id's code some of the most studied in the industry. A famously terse routine for computing inverse square roots, which surfaced in the Quake III source and spread across the internet as an example of programming wizardry, was popularly credited to Carmack; when asked, he said he had not written it. Years later he said he wished he had released the code under a permissive BSD-style license instead of the GPL, whose requirements he came to see as a net negative, though he acknowledged his partners would not have agreed.
His stance on software patents was the mirror image of his stance on source code. Carmack regarded patents on programming techniques as a tax on logic. The issue became personal during the development of Doom 3, when a shadow-rendering method he had worked out independently, later nicknamed Carmack's Reverse, turned out to overlap with a patent held by Creative Labs, and id had to resolve Creative's concerns before the game and its engine could ship.
The idea that I can be presented with a problem, set out to logically solve it with the tools at hand, and wind up with a program that could not be legally used because someone else followed the same logical steps some years ago and filed for a patent on it is horrifying.
— John Carmack, Voodoo Extreme interview, 2000
Hardware, Rockets, and the Limits of Software
By the late 1990s, 3D graphics cards had arrived, and Carmack's work shifted from squeezing pictures out of general-purpose processors to exploiting dedicated hardware. Quake II (1997) and Quake III Arena (1999) pushed colored lighting, curved surfaces, and shader effects; Quake III dropped software rendering entirely and required a 3D accelerator. Doom 3, released in August 2004, unified lighting and shadowing across the whole scene in a way that took years for commodity hardware to handle comfortably. After Doom 3, id's pace slowed. Rage, built on a new engine with a texture-streaming system Carmack called MegaTexture, took about six years and arrived in 2011 to a respectful but muted reception.
Carmack's long-standing refusal to name release dates, summed up in the phrase "when it's done," had once been a point of pride at id and was adopted by its partners at Apogee. In a 2019 interview with Joe Rogan he said he now largely rejected that philosophy and that id should have done whatever it took to ship Rage two years earlier. It was a notable reversal for a man whose reputation rested on refusing to compromise.
Around 2000, he picked up a childhood interest in rocketry. He began by funding a few local amateur engineers and soon formalized the effort as Armadillo Aerospace, based in Mesquite. By his own account he spent something north of a million dollars a year of his own money on it. Armadillo built vertical-takeoff, vertical-landing vehicles and iterated on them relentlessly, flying, crashing, and rebuilding. In October 2008 it won the $350,000 first prize for Level 1 of the Northrop Grumman Lunar Lander Challenge, a NASA-funded competition run by the X Prize Foundation, after two years of near misses. In 2009 it completed the harder Level 2 and took a $500,000 second-place prize. Carmack said the aerospace work was simple compared with the software he wrote for games; the difficulty lay in hardware, money, and regulation. In 2013 he put Armadillo into what he called hibernation mode after a vehicle loss and a failure to find outside investment.
Meanwhile, id itself changed hands. In June 2009, ZeniMax Media, the parent of Bethesda Softworks, acquired the company. Carmack stayed on as technical director. The terms included payments to him that would later become the subject of a lawsuit.
The Duct-Taped Headset
In 2012, Carmack became preoccupied with head-mounted displays. He had tried consumer and professional headsets and found them lacking: narrow fields of view, heavy latency, and motion tracking that made people sick. On an enthusiast forum he encountered
Palmer Luckey, a teenager from California who had been building prototype headsets with wide-angle lenses and inexpensive phone displays. Luckey lent him a prototype, and Carmack wrote software for it.
At the E3 trade show in June 2012, Carmack showed journalists a headset held together with duct tape and a strap, running a VR-enabled build of Doom 3 BFG Edition. He called it probably the best VR demo the world had ever seen. The coverage helped launch Luckey's Kickstarter campaign for the Oculus Rift that August, which asked for $250,000 and raised about $2.4 million. Carmack's endorsement was a large part of its credibility with developers.
On August 7, 2013, Carmack joined Oculus VR as chief technology officer. On November 22, he resigned from id Software, the company he had co-founded twenty-two years earlier. His explanation was that ZeniMax had not been willing to support the Rift, and he wanted to work on VR full time.
In March 2014,
Facebook agreed to buy Oculus for about $2 billion in cash and stock.
Mark Zuckerberg described VR as the next computing platform. ZeniMax sued in May 2014, arguing that Oculus had built its product on work Carmack did while at id and on confidential information shared under a non-disclosure agreement. The case went to a jury in Dallas in early 2017. The jury found that none of the defendants had misappropriated trade secrets but awarded ZeniMax $500 million on claims that included breach of the NDA, copyright infringement, and false designation of origin. The court's final judgment found Carmack liable on a conversion claim related to files he had copied, with no damages awarded. Carmack disputed ZeniMax's characterization of his conduct. In 2017 he separately sued ZeniMax for $22.5 million he said was still owed from the id acquisition; the parties settled in 2018, with Carmack stating that ZeniMax had fully satisfied its obligations to him.
Latency, Phones, and the Quest
Inside Oculus, Carmack focused on the problem he considered most fundamental: the delay between a person moving their head and the image in front of their eyes catching up. In games, a few dozen milliseconds of lag is an annoyance. In a headset, it breaks the illusion of presence and can make people ill. Carmack attacked it from every angle, including techniques that warp an already-rendered frame to match the latest head position just before it reaches the display.
He also bet early on mobile VR. Rather than wait for powerful PCs to become common, he worked with Samsung on the Gear VR, a headset that used a phone as its screen and processor. The results were limited, but they taught Oculus how to run VR on mobile chips with strict power budgets. That line of work led to the standalone Oculus Go and then to the Oculus Quest in 2019, a self-contained headset with inside-out tracking that needed no PC and no external sensors. When Carmack left, he wrote that the Quest 2 was almost exactly what he had wanted to see from the beginning.
His relationship with Facebook, later Meta, was more complicated. He stayed in Dallas rather than moving to Menlo Park, worked mostly on technical problems, and delivered long, unscripted keynote talks at Oculus developer conferences that sometimes criticized the company's own priorities. In November 2019 he stepped back to a consulting CTO role so he could spend more time on artificial general intelligence. In December 2022 he left entirely. His internal farewell post, which leaked and which he then published in full, was unusually blunt about the organization he was leaving.
We have a ridiculous amount of people and resources, but we constantly self-sabotage and squander effort.
— John Carmack, internal post on leaving Meta, 2022
In the same post he acknowledged that his limited influence was partly self-inflicted: he could have moved to headquarters and fought battles with leadership, but he had been busy programming and assumed he would hate that kind of work.
Keen
Carmack's interest in artificial intelligence had been growing for years. By his account, it was accelerated in part when
Sam Altman tried to recruit him to OpenAI. He declined, and instead began reading research papers with the same concentrated intensity he had once applied to graphics.
In August 2022 he announced that his new company, Keen Technologies, had raised $20 million in a round led by Nat Friedman and Daniel Gross, with participation from Patrick Collison, Tobi Lütke, Sequoia Capital, Capital Factory, and chip designer Jim Keller. The name echoed his first hit. The company was based in Dallas and set out to pursue AGI through a small team rather than the massive compute budgets of the large labs. In September 2023, Keen announced a partnership with Richard Sutton, one of the founders of reinforcement learning, with the stated aim of demonstrating signs of general intelligence by 2030. Sutton and a colleague left in 2026 to start their own lab in Toronto, saying they wanted to take a different research path.
Carmack's public explanations of his approach sound like his descriptions of engine work. He has said he maintained roughly sixty-hour weeks throughout his career and that he periodically takes solitary week-long retreats in a hotel to learn a new field or attack a single problem without interruption. He has argued that small, incremental steps guided by local information are the fastest route to large breakthroughs, and he has compared that process to gradient descent, the optimization method at the heart of modern machine learning.
The Engineer as Institution
The honors arrived steadily. In 2001 Carmack became the fourth person inducted into the Academy of Interactive Arts & Sciences Hall of Fame. He received a lifetime achievement award at the Game Developers Choice Awards in 2010 and the BAFTA Fellowship in 2016, the British academy's highest honor. In 2017 the University of Missouri–Kansas City gave him an honorary doctorate in engineering.
The more telling measure of his influence is how much of his working method became standard practice. Separating engine from content, shipping modding tools, releasing old code, and writing openly about technical decisions were unusual when Carmack did them and are unremarkable now. The first-person shooter, the online multiplayer game, and the licensed game engine all bear his fingerprints. His intolerance for story and his early refusal to set deadlines have aged less well, and he has said so himself.
What remains consistent is the temperament. Carmack is an optimizer in the literal sense. He looks at a system, whether a renderer, a rocket, a headset, or a corporation, and sees wasted cycles. The boy who melted a school window to get at better computers grew into a man who could afford any computer he wanted and still spent his days trying to make them do more with less. The targets changed. The method did not.