Play Dirty or Play Smart? The Great Boss Exploit Debate
There's a moment every experienced action-game player knows well. You've spent three hours getting wrecked by the same boss. You've memorized the attack patterns, you've optimized your build, and you've burned through more healing items than you care to count. Then someone in a Discord server drops a video: a forty-second clip where the entire fight is trivialized by backing the boss into a corner and spamming one move until it dies, confused and twitching, unable to respond.
Do you feel relief? Disgust? A complicated mix of both?
That tension — between admiration for cleverness and frustration at a shortcut — is exactly what makes the exploit debate one of the most interesting ongoing arguments in competitive gaming.
What Even Is a "Cheese" Strategy?
The term "cheesing" a boss has been part of gaming slang for decades, but it's notoriously hard to pin down. At its loosest, it refers to any strategy that bypasses the intended challenge of an encounter. At its strictest, it means outright exploiting broken mechanics — clipping through geometry, triggering infinite stagger loops, or manipulating AI pathfinding so an enemy literally never attacks.
But there's a massive spectrum in between. Is kiting a melee-only boss across a large arena cheesing? What about using a summon that trivializes a fight the developers clearly designed around solo play? What about sequence-breaking an entire game section to fight a late-game boss before you're supposed to have access to it?
"The word 'cheese' is almost meaningless at this point," says Marcus Webb, a competitive Elden Ring player and community moderator based in Austin, Texas. "People use it to mean 'I don't like how you beat that fight.' But if the game lets you do it, that's the game. That's not on the player."
Not everyone agrees.
The Purist Argument
For a vocal segment of the action-game community, exploits undermine the entire point of a difficult boss encounter. The argument goes something like this: developers design boss fights as tests of skill. They're meant to teach you something — patience, timing, resource management, reading telegraphed attacks. When you bypass that test with an unintended strategy, you rob yourself of the lesson.
Jamie Ortiz, who runs a boss-challenge series on YouTube out of Chicago, puts it bluntly: "I've beaten every major FromSoftware boss at level one, no summons, no shields. Not because I think that's the 'right' way — it's just the challenge I set for myself. But I do think there's something lost when people don't actually engage with what the fight is asking of them."
This perspective is especially common in communities built around challenge runs, where self-imposed restrictions are a badge of honor. For these players, the joy is in the friction — and exploits sand that friction away.
The Speedrunner Perspective: Exploits as Mastery
Speedrunners tend to see things very differently, and their argument is surprisingly compelling.
Finding an exploit in a boss fight isn't luck. It requires a deep, almost obsessive understanding of how the game's systems interact. You have to know the AI well enough to predict its behavior. You have to understand hitbox geometry, animation cancels, and engine-level quirks that most players never think about. In many ways, discovering a reliable cheese strategy requires more knowledge of a game than beating it the traditional way.
"People think speedrunning is about skipping the hard parts," says Dani Cho, a top-ranked Devil May Cry 5 runner from Seattle. "It's actually about understanding the game so deeply that you can find the cracks in it. That takes hundreds of hours. That's not lazy — that's a different kind of mastery."
The speedrunning community has largely resolved this debate internally by creating separate categories: "Any%" runs allow virtually any exploit, while "No Major Glitches" or similar categories restrict them. The result is a system where both styles of play are celebrated on their own terms.
What Do Developers Actually Think?
This is where things get genuinely complicated. Developer attitudes toward exploits range from enthusiastic embrace to quiet frustration, and they don't always say the quiet part out loud.
Some studios actively patch out cheese strategies within weeks of launch, which sends a pretty clear message. Others leave them in for years, either because fixing them would break something else or because they've decided the community has claimed those strategies as their own.
One indie developer, who asked to remain anonymous, told us: "When we see players find something we didn't intend, our first reaction is usually embarrassment. Then we watch the community rally around it, give it a name, make memes about it — and patching it out feels like taking something away from people. It's complicated."
A few studios have gone further, explicitly designing boss encounters with multiple valid approaches — including ones that feel like cheating. The Dishonored series is a famous example, where non-lethal "cheese" solutions to boss fights are built right into the design philosophy. That's a different kind of game, but it points toward a future where the exploit-versus-strategy binary collapses entirely.
Should Exploits Count in Competitive Play?
In organized competitive spaces — leaderboards, tournaments, ranked ladders — the exploit question becomes a governance issue. And different communities have landed in very different places.
Some leaderboard communities require video proof of every run and have moderators who review submissions for banned techniques. Others operate on an honor system. A few have abandoned the idea of restrictions entirely, reasoning that if the game allows it, the run is valid.
The consensus, such as it exists, seems to be that transparency matters more than purity. Players who use exploits and are upfront about it tend to earn respect, even from purists. Players who hide their methods or pretend a cheese strategy is something it isn't — that's where the community tends to push back hard.
The Bottom Line
Here's the honest answer: there is no universal line. Whether an exploit "counts" depends entirely on the context in which you're playing and the community you're playing within.
If you're running a personal challenge with self-imposed rules, a cheese strategy is a violation of your own agreement with yourself — and that's between you and your conscience. If you're competing on a leaderboard, the rules of that specific board apply. If you're just trying to get through a game that's been kicking your teeth in for a week, you can use any tool the game gives you without apology.
What the exploit debate really reveals is how much of gaming culture is built on unwritten social contracts — shared assumptions about what "counts" that nobody ever formally agreed to. Those contracts vary wildly between communities, and that's actually what makes the conversation interesting.
Drop the boss however you want. Just know which game you're playing.