[Anna writes...] Recently a girl with a triforce tattoo sent me the trailer for The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, the upcoming Nintendo release from our favorite video game series.
I would’ve been excited about any Zelda trailer, especially since I hadn’t heard about the new game. But after watching, this one had me excited for a new reason.
You see, I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on why some people are interested in nature, why others aren’t, and how it can all be explained by video games.
I would’ve been excited about any Zelda trailer, especially since I hadn’t heard about the new game. But after watching, this one had me excited for a new reason.
You see, I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on why some people are interested in nature, why others aren’t, and how it can all be explained by video games.
 Here we are in October 2013, getting ready to go to the 25th Anniversary Symphony in Grand Rapids, MI. | Hear me out. This idea struck me a few months ago, while I was reading the book Wild Ones by Jon Mooallem. In it was a passage about Satoshi Tajiri, a boy growing up in 1960s Japan collecting bugs. As the urban sprawl of Tokyo consumed his countryside, he found himself forced indoors, spending more and more time at the arcade. Jon Mooallem writes, of Tajiri: “So, in the nineties, he designed a Nintendo game that tapped into his childhood impulse for bug hunting—a virtual world, bursting with fictional biodiversity. It now contains more than 640 precisely named ‘species’ of critters, all of them waiting to be collected and traded with friends. Tajiri’s game is Pokémon.” |
Reading this was a revelation. I always loved Pokémon (second only to Zelda). My parents thought I played too much Gameboy, but here I am, an ecologist. Did some single interest influence both? I think so.
Mooallem also mentions a study that found “a typical eight-year-old in Britain can identify upward of 120 different Pokémon species, but only fifty different real plant and animal species native to his or her area, like oak trees or badgers.” This was definitely true for me as a child. My friends and I always took great pride in the fact that we could name all 150 original Pokémon (bonus if you knew the Pokérap), yet I couldn’t identify a single bird song until I was 19 and halfway through a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Studies. (Thanks, Dr. Harper.)
I think that “childhood impulse for bug hunting” is very real, and very important to this story.
Mooallem also mentions a study that found “a typical eight-year-old in Britain can identify upward of 120 different Pokémon species, but only fifty different real plant and animal species native to his or her area, like oak trees or badgers.” This was definitely true for me as a child. My friends and I always took great pride in the fact that we could name all 150 original Pokémon (bonus if you knew the Pokérap), yet I couldn’t identify a single bird song until I was 19 and halfway through a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Studies. (Thanks, Dr. Harper.)
I think that “childhood impulse for bug hunting” is very real, and very important to this story.
 Pokémon would be significantly less fun if you never knew what anything was. People, especially kids, wouldn't have the patience for that. (Source, edited) | What I propose is that the difference between the kids who grew up to be naturalists and the kids who grew up to be video gamers comes down to the availability of information. Children are born curious, and will gravitate to places where they can get more information. In Pokémon, when you find a new creature, the game tells you about it (check out this clip of the Pokédex in action). You quickly learn all their names, which ones are rare and interesting, which ones are common, and which ones have special skills. With this knowledge, you can learn which Pokémon live in which habitats, and start to seek out the ones missing from your collection. |
But this doesn't happen for most children exploring the great outdoors. There is no real-life Pokédex—the in-game guidebook that tells you the name and other information about every creature you encounter. When a child notices a bird or a flower, they need someone around them who can tell them what it is, or if it’s rare or interesting... otherwise they lose interest. Those children then grow up to be adults who forget to notice the birds and the flowers at all. They’re “pretty,” perhaps, but they stop wondering what they are and why they’re there. And they pass this attitude on to their kids.
Without mentors who know about nature, a game like Pokémon actually feeds a child's innate curiosity more than a walk outside with all these unknown and unidentifiable species.
It's no wonder children are drawn to games like Pokémon.
But are these games any better because the creatures aren’t real? What if you actually learned something about real nature by playing?
Without mentors who know about nature, a game like Pokémon actually feeds a child's innate curiosity more than a walk outside with all these unknown and unidentifiable species.
It's no wonder children are drawn to games like Pokémon.
But are these games any better because the creatures aren’t real? What if you actually learned something about real nature by playing?
Not all Pokémon are so unrealistic. Top left, Caterpie (source). Top right, Spicebush Swallowtail Caterpillar (source). Bottom left, a dugong (source). Bottom right, Dewgong (source).
Which brings me back to my excitement about “Breath of the Wild.”
In the trailer, we first see Link (the main character) and Epona (his horse) riding through a desert canyon, and then the scene cuts to a mountainy beach with palm trees.
Except they aren’t vague video-game palms, they’re Coconut Palms. The trailer cuts again to some waterfowl that at a glance look so realistic, I paused to try to identify them. European White Storks appear. A Red-tailed Hawk screams. A Black-capped Chickadee calls. A mixed herd of White-tailed Deer and Elk graze near a trail.
In the trailer, we first see Link (the main character) and Epona (his horse) riding through a desert canyon, and then the scene cuts to a mountainy beach with palm trees.
Except they aren’t vague video-game palms, they’re Coconut Palms. The trailer cuts again to some waterfowl that at a glance look so realistic, I paused to try to identify them. European White Storks appear. A Red-tailed Hawk screams. A Black-capped Chickadee calls. A mixed herd of White-tailed Deer and Elk graze near a trail.
Insets clockwise from top left: Coconut Palms (source), White-tailed Deer (source), Elk (source), European White Stork (source). Screenshots from Breath of the Wild trailer.
It might not be a geographically- or ecologically-accurate conglomeration of species, but it’s a start. What’s more, Link seems to actually interact with the natural world in this new game. In the trailer, he climbs a tree, then cuts one down to make a bridge over a gorge. He shoots a wild boar. Then he lights a grassland on fire.
This nature element is an exciting—and important—addition to the video game scene because it could begin to close the information gap that I think has kept many people from nature. When a child interacts with a deer or another real species in a game, they’re more likely to want to check it out in real life. A kid who loves lighting the Hyrulian grassland on fire just might get excited about grassland restoration ecology when they find out it involves lighting real-life grasslands on fire.
This nature element is an exciting—and important—addition to the video game scene because it could begin to close the information gap that I think has kept many people from nature. When a child interacts with a deer or another real species in a game, they’re more likely to want to check it out in real life. A kid who loves lighting the Hyrulian grassland on fire just might get excited about grassland restoration ecology when they find out it involves lighting real-life grasslands on fire.
Left, Link lighting some grass on fire in Breath of the Wild trailer. Right, two of my favorite colleagues lighting a prairie experiment on fire. Fires are critical for maintaining tallgrass prairie ecosystems, and prescribed burns are an important part of restoration ecology.
Sure, a fantasy game might not be as fantastic if it took place in Yosemite National Park rather than Hyrule or Pallet Town. I’m not arguing for realism over fantasy. I am arguing that there is a clear opportunity in games to teach the millions of players worldwide something about nature.
Games, of course, aren’t all bug-hunting and learning about other worlds. Games first and foremost appeal to the masses because they satisfy a desire for adventure that most people can't access in real life. Running through Ocarina of Time’s Gerudo Valley from the confines of your urban couch can feel more epic than your morning jog. But real adventure is out there, and as far as I can tell, the easiest way to find it is through ecology. Browse through some seasonal field technician job postings, and you’ll see what I mean.
Games, of course, aren’t all bug-hunting and learning about other worlds. Games first and foremost appeal to the masses because they satisfy a desire for adventure that most people can't access in real life. Running through Ocarina of Time’s Gerudo Valley from the confines of your urban couch can feel more epic than your morning jog. But real adventure is out there, and as far as I can tell, the easiest way to find it is through ecology. Browse through some seasonal field technician job postings, and you’ll see what I mean.
Who wants to go on an adventure? (Bottom right, Source)
When you're not busy working (aka listening for birds), I recommend listening to this.
When you're not busy working (aka listening for birds), I recommend listening to this.
In the end, when parents and mentors don't know enough about nature to teach their children, my hope is that games can pick up the slack. If we continue to follow Tajiri’s lead in putting a breath of the wild into popular video games, we maybe—just maybe—could start to re-connect people across the globe with the natural world around them.
Ok, ok, last one I swear. Thanks Dani for the "ID" on these Tulipa humilis ('Alba Coerulea Oculata') (source).
