I was six when Pokemania swept over the United States in 1998, and I remember it vividly.
It was a phenomenon that crossed every medium: trading cards, television, movies, books, the greatest Burger King toys of all time, and more, all branching out from a Game Boy game that sold 10 million units before Y2K.
Everyone was talking about Pokemon. Every brand wanted a piece. At school, it was all kids cared about. Teachers began confiscating Pokemon cards when it became clear that trading took precedence over classwork, but banning Pokemon paraphernalia from school didn’t stop us. We conducted make believe Pokemon battles at recess and discussed our favorite ’mons with monomaniacal focus and encyclopedic knowledge. Pokemon had captured our imagination.
Looking back 25 years later, it seems inevitable that the Pokemon media juggernaut would become the highest-grossing franchise in history, earning over $92 billion. It seems inevitable that kids would love it, because by now, generations of kids do. But Pokemon’s designers made some clever decisions early on that set the stage for its meteoric rise to cultural royalty.
As a boy, Satoshi Tajiri, the father of Pokemon, was an avid adventurer and bug collector. He explored his rural corner of the burgeoning city of Tokyo, capturing and cataloging critters, eyes wide with wonder. Kids like Tajiri weren’t burdened with real-world concerns: they were connected to nature, lost in their own imaginations. Innocent, naïve bliss.
Years later as Tajiri developed the concept for Pokemon, this is exactly the experience that he wanted to capture and share with the more modern kids of the 90s. Would they go for it?
Japanese role-playing games (JRPGs) were already an established and popular genre, led by narrative-driven franchises like Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy, but Pokemon was an all-new property, and much simpler than these, with essentially no plot. The zeitgeist was shifting, too: the Sony Playstation, released in 1994, was going gangbusters by moving gameplay into 32-bit 3D. Pokemon released on the Game Boy, an 8-bit 2D video game system. While highly-successful, the Game Boy was nearing the end of its life, outmoded and lacking the “cool” factor of Playstation and the upstart SEGA (which promised to “do what NintenDON’T”).
Pokemon seemed unlikely to leave a mark on the shifting video game industry, but its creators’ innovative design decisions would ultimately catapult it to success and cement it in the public consciousness.
The Link Cable
On his commute one day, Tajiri saw two kids whose Game Boys were connected using a Game Link Cable — a special accessory that allowed cooperative play in some game modes — and everything clicked. The original concept for Pokemon was very different from what we got, but now Tajiri envisioned a game where creatures could be collected, trained, and used in battle, not solely against AI opponents, but against real-life friends, sitting just a few feet away.
In Pokemon, success wouldn’t just be measured by completing solo quests, but by the strength of a player’s Pokemon compared to those of other kids they knew. Your strategic prowess would be demonstrated by winning battles against classmates and neighbors.
Pokemon encouraged unprecedented collaboration through this gameplay mode and one other: Trading via the Game Link Cable was essential. Multiple versions of the same game were produced, and some Pokemon were exclusive to each. To obtain an Oddish, a player who owned Pokemon Red would need to strike a deal with someone who owned Pokemon Blue, perhaps offering them a Bellsprout (a Pokemon Red exclusive) in exchange. You only got one of the iconic starter Pokemon — Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle — per game file, too, so to “complete the Pokedex” (obtain data for all 150 Pokemon), you’d need some help. You had to be able to connect.
After all, you “Gotta Catch ’Em All.”
Collaboration between players was the first step towards building community, and in those days, it wasn’t hard to find someone else to play with. From 1998 to 2001, when you met someone new, it made perfect sense to ask: “Do you play Pokemon?”
The Rumors
The hottest gossip on late 90s playgrounds was this: “Have you heard about the secret Pokemon?”
Everyone knew that there were only 150 original Pokemon, but rumors were spreading about the 151st: Mew, the Mirage Pokemon. After its appearance in Pokemon: The First Movie, the franchise's first cinematic release, its existence was confirmed. It was iconic, a creature of such rarity and power that every kid wanted to get their hands on it.
The only way to obtain it, though, was through hacking the game. Or was it? Rumors swirled of other methods — most demanding that the player jump through some truly insane hoops. But when your friend says he heard it from a kid who’s uncle works for Nintendo…well, at seven years old, it’s best to do what he says.
At the time, we didn’t know that this was by design. Even Nintendo, Pokemon’s publisher, had no idea. Tajiri added Mew to the game’s code at the last minute, after it had been checked for errors. When the lines of code that made up the debugging tools were deleted, he discovered that there was just enough space to squeeze one more ‘mon onto the game cartridge — a secret only for his employees and their families.
When the secret got out, as Tajiri knew it would, interest in the game skyrocketed. Everyone was talking about Mew, providing unprecedented word-of-mouth marketing. Eventually, demand for the 151st Pokemon fueled crowded, real world events and legendary sweepstakes as Nintendo promised to transfer an official Mew right to your Game Boy.
In the early 2000s, the Internet was rife with Pokemon rumors as a few scattered images of Japanese magazines and merchandise reached the U.S. It gave us something to talk about, a game outside the game: Which overconfident grade schooler would have their claims proven right?
The Mew surprise had conditioned us: there was always more to discover in the world of Pokemon. Even today, before each new game’s release, Pokemon fans still argue over claims of leaked information. And decades later, players are still discovering hidden quirks in earlier games — like a real way to exploit the game code and acquire Mew. The rumor mill is alive and well.
The Randomization
Pokemon has always been a game of probability. The encounter system, battle system, and capturing mechanics all rely on random number generation (RNG). It might seem like this would negate skill, but seasoned players are familiar with the probabilities and plan around them.
Occasionally, RNG will roll against the player, even if every precaution has been taken to shift the odds in their favor. A classic example is in the 2013 Pokemon Video Game World Championship semi-finals, where Aaron Zheng was eliminated after he failed a series of probability-based events (each of which he was highly-favored to succeed at), with no possible mitigation from this top-ranked player.
Losing to chance in the World Championship is the height of drama, but every Pokemon player has experienced this to some extent. An easy win against an in-game enemy can suddenly become a fight for survival, thanks to a missed attack at the worst time. A Pokemon can evade capture, even when you’ve maximized your odds of succeeding. A Pokemon with a 10% encounter rate might take far longer than expected to find. Like real life, you can’t control everything.
These experiences can be infuriating, but they define the gameplay and give us unique stories to share. No two players will have the same experience, and we can relate over differences.
Interestingly, Pokemon RNG works in a positive direction, too. An unreliable move with low accuracy may hit the opponent unexpectedly and turn the tide of battle. A notoriously difficult Pokemon to catch might succumb after just one attempt. These are thrilling, but the most intriguing example of all is the shiny Pokemon mechanic.
Each Pokemon has a set color palette, but shiny Pokemon shift the design in interesting ways by rendering the creature in a totally different color scheme. And they are beyond rare: the odds of a random shiny Pokemon encounter in the earlier games was 1/8192 (today it’s 1/4096), while most players will only encounter a few hundred wild Pokemon over the course of their playthrough. As a result, every Pokemon enthusiast remembers the thrill of the first time they found a random shiny Pokemon.
Low-odds encounters like this have always been a key design feature of Pokemon games, adding flavor and suspense. In Pokemon Red and Blue, the first games released in the U.S., the first few routes were full of simplistic, mundane creatures: bugs, birds, and rats. When the player stepped into Viridian Forest, the game’s first dungeon, it appeared to be more of the same. Except…
With each wild Pokemon encounter the player engaged in, there was a 5% chance of finding Pikachu, the famous Electric Mouse and Pokemon’s mascot. 95% of kids on the playground would never even know it’s there, but when they saw the one kid out of twenty who had it in their collection, they grilled him/her about how they caught such a rare Pokemon — exactly as intended.
Rare moments catch our attention and stick in our memory. Witnessing something that we can hardly believe can help us stand out and feel unique. Rare moments are exciting, and Pokemon delivers them constantly, through every cave and across every sea.
The Relationships
From the very first moments of our very first Pokemon video game, we were aggressively sold on the idea that Pokemon weren’t tools; they were our friends. We were on a journey with our Pokemon, watching them grow up and become stronger as we overcame challenges together. We could give nicknames to our Pokemon, forming an instant bond and validating every parent of a kid who ever brought home a stray: “Don’t give it a name! You’ll get attached.”
I freely admit that it sounds a little crazy to be attached to a digital creature. After all, Pokemon are mere pixels and bits, able to be deleted as easily as any other piece of data. But somehow…it works. I cherish my Pokemon save files, not only because of the truly staggering amount of time I’ve spent over the last two decades collecting and training the creatures within, but because the Pokemon on each cartridge are special to me.
What’s at the root? It may be the unique creature designs; each has a recognizable silhouette and signature “voice” sound effect. It may be the immersive world. It may even be the relentless brainwashing inflicted on you by every non-player character (NPC) in the game. Venturing through the world, every person you interact with — every NPC — cannot say enough good things about Pokemon. Many NPCs have Pokemon living alongside them in their homes like pets and are as happy to brag about their Clefairy or Skitty as any dog mom you’ll ever meet. Pokemon work alongside humans, delivering mail, constructing buildings, and providing healthcare. It is the norm in Pokemon World to love and care for the creatures. In fact, our major beef with Team Rocket and other villain groups relates to their calloused, cynical view of Pokemon as objects to be exploited for power and personal gain.
Yeah. It’s pretty heavy-handed.
Nothing does more to promote deep relationships with Pokemon than backwards compatibility, though. Fans refer to the different eras of Pokemon as “generations,” and so far, we’ve had nine. When the first sequels, Pokemon Gold and Silver, came out in 1999–2000, the franchise moved into its second generation, adding 100 new creatures and a new land to explore. Spectacular! One tiny problem, though: What about the friends we spent so much time training in Generation One, on Pokemon Red/Blue/Yellow?
We need not have worried. The creators of Pokemon programmed Gold and Silver with a game mode that allowed players to trade Pokemon with the older games: the Time Capsule. With this, players could move their favorites into the future, joining their new squad in Generation Two. When Generation Three debuted on the Game Boy Advance in 2002–03, for the first time, Pokemon from older games were trapped on the old cartridges, left in suspended animation forevermore. Moving forward, though, players had the opportunity to transfer Pokemon from as far back as Generation Three all the way up to Generation Nine (2022) through a ridiculously convoluted process involving every Nintendo handheld of the last twenty years. Remarkably, I have Pokemon that I caught in 2003 with me on my Nintendo Switch in Pokemon Scarlet, the latest game. Incredible and unprecedented.
As they move forward, older Pokemon retain their core identity. They keep their nickname, record their original trainer (the embarrassing name you cooked up in sixth grade), and maintain ribbons they’ve earned for achievements. They are recognizably the same creature, but they can acquire new moves, earn new accomplishments in a new land, and test their mettle against fresh adversaries; a Pokemon caught in 2003 as one of 386 species now has to contend with over 1000.
This feature has been so important to the franchise’s success that Generation Eight sparked controversy when the creators announced that — for the first time since 2003 — we would not be able to obtain and use every single Pokemon in existence, which also meant they couldn’t be brought into the new game. Some people’s favorites would be stuck in Generation Seven on the 3DS. This perceived slight against the fans was dubbed “Dexit” and generated calls to boycott Pokemon Sword and Shield.
In retrospect, despite a few annoyances, the new system has worked out fine. After over twenty years, I have enough favorites that a few of them missing didn’t affect me much. I understand the reaction, though. The Pokemon I choose to bring along with me to new generations are special: the first team I trained to maximum level 100, the first team I meticulously planned and collected, and a few Pokemon traded to me by a friend who passed away unexpectedly, to name a few.
When I look at them, memories flood back. I remember my life at the time: who I was, what was important to me, and what I was escaping through Pokemon. Whether it was waiting for my older sister to buy a new car in sixth grade (interminable), avoiding my summer reading assignments in ninth grade (boring), or coping with college heartbreak (frequent), Pokemon gave me a break. They recall warm memories, like hiding in the corner with my best friend, Game Boys linked, playing together all night while the grown ups talked.
I think, ultimately, the Pokemon formula is so successful because it is for all ages. As players grow up and change, Pokemon remains consistent. The way we interact with the game evolves, but the core experience is the same: explore a cool world, encounter and bond with fantastic creatures, and kick major ass. Timeless.
In 2016, Pokemon GO, the mobile game, took the world by storm. It became a global phenomenon with over 500 million downloads by the end of the year. For the first time in almost twenty years, everyone was talking about Pokemon again. It was the return of Pokemania!
While the gigantic Pokemon GO popularity wave didn’t last, the game remains successful to this day. Alongside the expected Poke-addicts, the game is played by many people who haven’t kept up with the franchise in decades. I think that it found such success because it contained all of the best elements of the franchise, embracing the same clever design choices that catapulted Pokemon to preeminence.
Pokemon remains an endearing franchise, and it’s not going away anytime soon. Each new generation brings new ways to connect, new secrets to unlock, new adventures to experience, and new creatures to bond with. All fans have complaints, but it’s hard to argue: at its core, Pokemon is inspired design.
If you enjoyed this article, please give it a clap and share it with someone else who’s a Pokemaniac!
See how the Pokemon fan experience evolved over the years in this outstanding 25th anniversary video.
