Rachel Heller | Challenging the Pokémon master

I was excited to see the article, “Graduating like a Pokémon master,” which was published on Nov. 16. As a child, with the diligence normally associated with orthodox religious worship, I would wake up every Saturday morning to see the comically bad Kids WB dub. Nowadays, I still watch the show, streamed online in Japanese. It has improved vastly since its beginning.

So, imagine my disappointment when I read the article, which — and I mean no disrespect to the columnist, Cornelius Range V — was hardly about Pokémon at all. It contained only the most basic comparison and no in-depth exploration of the series. This may sound like an absurd complaint, given that the plot of the Japanese cartoon has, admittedly, very little depth. But the development and structure of other areas of the franchise — and for that matter, the franchise itself — are highly evolved and it’s a shame that the author did not take advantage of this in his column.

Rather than a ‘middle ground’ essay, I offer my own version of “Graduating like a Pokémon master,” completely inaccessible to anyone who is not deeply entrenched in Pokémon fandom. Enjoy. ***

In 1996, Satoshi Tajiri’s games, Pokémon Red and Pokémon Green, hit the shelves in Japan. They sold over 10.4 million copies. The American release of the Red and Blue versions followed right behind, selling 8.6 million copies. The franchise exploded immediately with an anime, a trading-card game, a multitude of manga licenses and a mountain of merchandise.

Poké-mania has died down in the U.S. since the 1990s, but the series still maintains a devoted fan base. Alongside the official games — the facet of the franchise that started it all — players have developed a complex metagame. Within that metagame resides an interesting analogy for life choices that students need to make.

The metagame can be broken down into two warring camps. One camp is composed of disciples of the fansite Smogon.com, a comprehensive database of the best possible stat allotment and move set for every Pokémon. But not all Pokémon are created equal. Smogon ranks each by tier: uber (‘banned’ from competitive play), overused, borderline (that is, borderline-overused), underused, rarely used and never used. For lower-tiered Pokémon, Smogon even suggests ‘better’ alternatives, while quite frankly tearing the lower-tier option a new one. Here is an excerpt from its page on a third-generation normal type, Spinda:

“Seriously, what was Game Freak eating when they shat out this pitiful excuse for a Pokémon? It has a great move pool — in fact, it’s one that extends out ad infinitum — but its stats went down the crapper. At least Spinda has many uses, which are … yeah I got nothing.”

It’s one of the crueler descriptions on the site, but the point stands.

But the truly significant aspect of Smogon.com is how it polarizes competitive play. The result of designing the most effective battle strategies is that, well, players will use the most effective battle strategies. And it’s K.O.’d — throughout the competitive battling circuit, the very same Pokémon teams utilizing the very same techniques keep popping up, with the small fraction of Smogon-approved Pokémon being used by a majority of players.

This has perhaps contributed to the creation of Smogon’s opposing camp, ‘Karen fans,’ so-dubbed in reference to the post-battle spiel of the aforementioned in-game boss:

“Strong Pokémon. Weak Pokémon. That is only the selfish perception of people. Truly skilled trainers should try to win with their favorites. I like your style. You understand what’s important. Go on — the Champion is waiting.”

The Karen camp decries Smogon for designing a metagame that takes the ‘fun’ out of playing Pokémon in the first place. They have a point, as Pokémon’s real strength has always been in the variety of choices, the ability to define yourself as a trainer. But crying foul because someone else’s carefully planned team is stronger than your team of favorites also comes across as impractical and childish.

The philosophical parallel for students is this: should you devote yourself to the things you love, or the things that are most practical?

On the one hand, someone’s got to pay the Poké-bills (fact: it is grammatically correct to add the prefix ‘Poké’ to any word). On the other hand, you didn’t sign up to become a trainer because you wanted to see the same Scizors and Sandstorm sets every day. You’re in this world because Bulbasaur’s smiling plant-beast face arrested your attention when you were ten years old. (Rhetorical example only. Nobody picked Bulbasaur).

There’s no clear right answer — not for gamers or college students. It’s up to individuals to find their own acceptable ground between measurable victory and intangible affections.

As for emulating the anime protagonist Ash Ketchum: one should be quick to remember that Ash is perpetually ten years old and has rejected higher education in favor of immediate gainful self-employment. We love him for it, but a less apt analogy for the aims of college students could hardly be imagined.

Rachel Heller is an 11th grade student at Springfield Township High School in Erdenheim, PA. Her email address is racheldheller@gmail.com.

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