This post started out as a joke that would have been published on April 1. Originally, I was going to ironically argue that the Pokémon franchise was an allegory for why unregulated labor markets are good, sort of in response to a Pokémon philosophy video that Philosophy Tube made three years ago. However, I was deeply unhappy with the end result of my work. But rather than let it go to waste, I’ve repurposed the post to talk about the ethics of Pokémon battling in light of Earth Day, since PETA believes that Pokémon portrays and promotes animal cruelty. After all, Pokemon is dog fighting, right?
As you can tell, I don’t buy the dog fighting criticism, at least within the world of the franchise. I’ll spend most of the post going over why Pokémon training and battling are seen as ethical within the world of Pokémon, and what a genuine ethical critique of Pokémon battles would require.
Welcome to the world of Pokémon
If you’re reading this post, I’m assuming you know something about the Pokémon franchise. Maybe you played the first set of games for the Gameboy in the 90s, or watched the main anime. If you were a huge fan, maybe you read the Viz translations of the Pokémon Special manga (I’m definitely showing my age here). But the Pokémon universe is a massive sprawling beast with over two decade’s worth of games, multiple television series, many comic books, and other media, each with different continuities and contradictory facts about the Pokémon world. So to simplify things we’re going to point to commonalities that are, as far as I know, true of all portrayals of the Pokémon world. And yes… this includes that weird manga where humans transform into Pokémon if anyone’s asking:
- The Pokémon world is one that creatures called Pokémon inhabit. This may or may not be alongside “real” animals in some cases, although this isn’t directly relevant.
- Humans and Pokémon interact in a number of ways. However, Pokémon battles, which are fighting competitions involving human trainers commanding teams of Pokémon which they’ve captured and tamed, are the dominant mode of Pokémon-human relations.
With that prefacing our conversation we can begin the discussion in earnest.
Pokémon has often been compared to dog fighting or cockfighting as well as other forms of real world animal cruelty. Superficially, these criticisms make sense, but it’s clear that there are facts about the Pokémon world which make Pokémon battling distinct from any comparable activity involving animals in the real world. Again, these facts are true of all portrayals of the Pokémon world as far as I know.
First, Pokémon enjoy training and battling, and most Pokémon battles appear to occur with the consent of the participating Pokémon. Nearly every iteration of the franchise makes this apparent, though there are, of course, exceptions when it comes to specific individual Pokémon, such as those captured by criminal organizations like Team Rocket. Still, it’s generally the case that Pokémon like to battle. What is less clear is where this need to battle comes from and how it developed.
Second, and most importantly, Pokémon battling (and more generally the act of training Pokémon) is an extremely, regulated activity which, much like a sport, has very clearly defined rules that are apparent to both Pokémon and humans. In the instances we see Pokémon trainers disregarding these rules, these individuals are shamed and ostracized.
These points are given further consideration below.
I wanna be the very best
Competition is clearly one of the driving forces of the Pokémon world. But it seems that Pokémon don’t simply want to better themselves as a matter of survival (some portrayals of the Pokémon universe do suggest that humans eat Pokémon and that Pokémon in turn eat each other, if not other animals, implying that adaptive fitness could be a driving force for Pokémon). Across all media, Pokémon are consistently shown seeking out what they deem to be strong trainers. Several of the Pokémon captured by Ash Ketchum/Satoshi and Red of the anime and Pokémon Special manga respectively are befriended before capture. The core video game series illustrates this tendency of Pokémon to seek humans by having wild Pokémon suddenly attack the player’s character party while traversing the world. Given the mechanics of role playing games, it shouldn’t necessarily be taken as a given that Pokémon initiate all encounters with humans – other mediums demonstrate this isn’t always the case – but the idea that Pokémon training is an enterprise that wholesale separates Pokémon families and destroys ecosystems is not at all substantiated by the franchise. In fact, the first episode of the anime shows us that wild Pokémon are sometimes jealous of trainers and their Pokémon, suggesting that Pokémon understand the benefits of human training and could have reason to seek out humans.
You teach me and I’ll teach you
As suggested above, in many instances, Pokémon are not averse to capture by humans with capture either occurring after a trainer establishes friendship or demonstrates strength in a battle with a wild Pokémon. What I want to argue is that Pokémon, like the humans in their world, and like us, the audience consuming Pokémon media, have the capacity for self-driven, goal-oriented action. Like anyone driven towards a goal, Pokémon seek out resources to help them obtain the ends they desire. This tendency is best described through the language of teleology which focuses on essences, explanations, and reasons.
Some philosophers, like Aristotle, believed that teleology was an important aspect of metaphysics. For Aristotle, the concept of “telos” was one that was relevant in both the natural world and society. Telos, best translated as “ends” or “goal”, is the state of affairs or purpose that some organism or activity strives to reach. Aristotle would say that the telos of medicine is health, the telos of an eye is sight, and that the telos of a cup is to hold a beverage.
While teleological accounts of metaphysics and the natural world have fallen out of favor, they are very effective at describing the Pokémon world. Pokémon can best be described as having a telos for acquiring strength, and it appears as if they were almost made to do so. For example, a Pokémon’s very ability to reach biological maturity (Pokémon evolution) depends on the amount of combat experience they gain, and this is usually most efficiently done under the care of a human trainer. Furthermore, some species of Pokémon actually can’t evolve at all without human interaction or exposure to specific human technologies.
This means that Pokémon battling isn’t simply a fun activity for the sake of human entertainment, it’s ontologically embedded into the core of the Pokémon universe and is an essential part of a Pokémon’s wellbeing, regardless of whether a Pokémon lives in the wild or under the care of a trainer. We know, of course, that the extradiegetic or Doylist reason for this is that Pokémon are made by game designers for a competitive monster battling series. In the Pokémon world, though, it’s not exactly clear why this is.
Why Pokémon battles aren’t cockfighting
The facts mentioned above are in no way meant to justify every portrayal of Pokémon battling, indeed, as alluded to, the franchise often contrasts “good” Pokémon training with bad examples. The key difference separating good and bad trainers is that good trainers have the consent of their Pokémon. Pokémon actually have the ability to refuse a battle, and this has been shown within the franchise. Additionally, good trainers follow a sort of etiquette around training Pokémon. While these rules are not formally listed anywhere, the etiquette basically breaks down into behaviors that minimize harm, like not making a Pokémon battle past the point it is willing to.
This means that the Pokémon franchise effectively levels its own critiques at Pokémon abuse. So if we want to say that, more broadly, the institution of Pokémon training in-universe harms Pokémon, we’d have to develop a critique that established a more rigorous definition of harm. Our critique would have to take into account that many Pokémon consent to battles, that many (but not all) trainers respect the limits of their Pokémon, and that many Pokémon gain tangible benefits that presumably satisfy deep biological needs when they’re trained. Of course, systems involving consent aren’t necessarily free from ethical complications, and there are tons of issues that can emerge under such conditions. Questions of whether or not consent in the Pokémon world is fully informed or fully free might be valid places to start with an ethical critique of the Pokémon world.
Great article. I will be going through many of these issues as well..
Thanks for finally talking about >The Ethics of Pokémon Battles:
Is Pokemon Dog Fighting? – Philosimplicity <Loved it!
Touche. Sound arguments. Keep up the great effort.
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I disagree. Pokemon “seek out” trainers only because trainers wander into their natural habitats, and like real life wild animals, often defend their territory. As well, how do you account for the wild pokemon resisting capture, often destroying several pokeballs before they are truly captured?
Also, how do you account for the fact that in the games, a young child will challenge you, and upon defeating them in a pokemon dual, you then take hundreds of their dollars and pokeballs and other equipment? This is quite literally taking advantage of children with limited training skills trying to test their unpracticed creature against the might of a full fledged trainer, who then stops their pet and takes their money and training equipment?
Except, for all your flowery $20 dollar words Pokemon battles are dog fighting. Nice try, though.
Re-posting because paragraph spaces are missing:
I’ve been with the Pokémon since the very beginning of its arrival in the US. Despite the fact that I justify playing the game on account of the technicality that it’s ‘just’ a game (much as GTA is just a game), and one filled with idyllic scenery, serene music, and heartwarming interactions between my character and his pokémon, there are no in fact valid counterarguments to the simple reality that rather than being superficially similar to real-world animal fighting, that is what it is through and through.
1. “…it’s clear that there are facts about the Pokémon world which make Pokémon battling distinct from any comparable activity involving animals in the real world.”
Indeed, with techniques like “sucker punch”, “constrict”, “curse”, “dark void”, “draco meteor”, “draining kiss”, “smelling salts”—I’ll stop there because this could go on for a while— pokémon are *clearly* battling in ways that are not only incomparable to the ways in which animals naturally fight, but ways that would be both highly illegal in human martial arts leagues and competitions, and in the case of moves like “dark void”, highly illegal in the governance of a fantasy setting (although, if you recall Origins, pokémon also fight naturally, which is to say with an eye toward death, such as Squirtle death-gripping Charmander by the throat with his fangs).
2. “First, Pokémon enjoy training and battling, and most Pokémon battles appear to occur with the consent of the participating Pokémon.”
I like that word: “appear”. It’s kind of the whole issue. Appearances are not always what they seem. Being that there’s a clear lack of ability for pokémon to communicate intellectually with humans except in extremely rare cases, it’s difficult to actually make the case that all or even most of them actually enjoy training and battling as a natural disposition, and their consent seems to come from the fact that they’ve been “tamed”. However, the show and games have never hidden the fact that “taming” really means beating on a healthy pokémon until its weak and then binding it to a pokéball which seems to hold the power to overwrite pokémon’s wills to follow the every command of their new masters.
The obstinate few are the exceptions that prove the rule, whereby following one’s trainer becomes untenable purely because of the ineffectuality of said trainer. In either case, the argument from apparent willingness has always been a flimsy one. If I train my real life dog to attack babies on sight, there’s a willingness on the dog’s part to do the bidding, but its willingness doesn’t make my command inherently free of animal cruelty.
But let’s briefly examine the one famous time that the creators of the Pokémon games actually gave a pokémon the ability to express its desire to ally with a human and do battle: In Pokémon Black and White, the player character spends the entire game faced with the existential and epistemological dilemma that humans had simply taken for granted all along (for how many generations up to that point?) that humans and pokémon were equal partners and that pokémon desired battle. N, the “antagonist” of the game, and Team Plasma, challenge that assertion by first questioning how humans could even have ever come to such a conclusion, and second by revealing that N could, in a practically non-existent feat, actually communicate psychically with pokémon, and learns that many of them do in fact detest battle and the endless cycle of pain it causes for them.
How does Game Freak slap a kids bandaid on this gaping wound? When N tries to convince Reshiram to transport all pokémon to an alternate realm, Reshiram himself tells N he would rather ally with a human and do battle. Problem solved! One lone pokémon has expressed a desire for battle, so everything is all good yall! …It’s a cop out. In the first place, do you just walk around honoring everyone’s desire to harm one another? In the second place, one pokémon does not speak for all pokémon. But most importantly, alliance of the sort Reshiram expresses is instantly and inherently negated by the simple fact that (as stated previously), pokémon become bound to their pokéballs and by extension, their trainers’ wills. That’s not an alliance. That’s a surrender of agency.
We’re not talking about “different universe, different rules”. We’re talking about a fundamental flaw in the ontological and epistemological design of this world that has no rational association with (and in fact utterly contradicts) real world logic and ethics. It is held up purely by the magic of “the writers said so”.
3. “Second, and most importantly, Pokémon battling (and more generally the act of training Pokémon) is an extremely, regulated activity which, much like a sport, has very clearly defined rules that are apparent to both Pokémon and humans. In the instances we see Pokémon trainers disregarding these rules, these individuals are shamed and ostracized.”
If you refer back to my response regarding “comparable activity”, or simply scroll through the list of all pokémon moves, it should be quite clear that whatever regulation there is seems to be quite lax. The only rules that stand out are ‘don’t abuse or neglect your pokémon (outside of battle, of course), ‘don’t let your pokémon die’, and ‘don’t let other humans or pokémon hurt one another’ (again, outside of battle). Otherwise, despite the fulmination of leagues and associations, as one critic put it, the entire world of tweenaged pokémon trainers is an overflowing cottage industry best summed up by the defacto rule that when two trainers lock eyes, no matter where they happen to be, what they happen to be doing, what state their pokémon may currently be in, they instantly enter into battle.
Let that sink in: when two *trainers* lock eyes, not two pokémon, battle begins. So pokémon seem to enjoy battling, but they lack agency in deciding when to battle and under what conditions. Only got 1HP and waiting to be dropped off at the pokécenter? Too bad, “pikachu, I choose you!”. On top of which, many such trainers actually express relish in the idea of making other trainers’ pokémon faint—again, *trainers* relish this; humans relish watching animals experience pain and suffering; pokémon are largely mum on whether they derive pleasure from seeing their opponents pass out from being beaten to within an inch of their lives. And perhaps that’s the point—what good is their in expressing pleasure or displeasure when you’re conditioned to simply do what your trainer wants when they want you to do it.
Even putting this aside, however, you may be itching to remind me that through all of it, there’s an instant cure-all and it’s 100% free! How great! Well, not really. Imagine if we developed and recovery tank for animals that could cure all their ills, whether slashed up, bludgeoned, poisoned, electrocuted, covered in first degree burns, etc… And imagine we decided to subsidize this to the extent that you could use any available tank for your pet any time. Would that then make it acceptable to set your dog on fire or repeatedly hammerfist it over the head? No. Because the ethics doesn’t hinge on the matter of death. It hinges on the fact that the action of violence is itself brutal and cruel.
In the end, video game world rules and ethics still have to relate in some way to real-world rules and ethics. In many ways, this is the whole purpose for the existence of fantasy: to lift ethical issues from this world and place them in a proximal world that’s just different enough from our own to give real exploration and consideration to such issues without the biases of the real-world clouding judgment. There is no relatability in pokémon battles, no compelling justification. The only answer to question of “why” is “because”. And that is an insoluble problem.
Wow, this is the longest comment I’ve received on a post! Sorry for the late response. I had abandoned this blog, but feel compelled to respond.
You make excellent points. It’s also very clear that the creators of the franchise, across all its incarnations, never thought too seriously about the implications of many of the series’ mechanics.
The first Pokémon movie, for example levels its own critique of battles, somewhat similar to yours, but then fails to address the problem. In philosophy there’s a concept known as the dialectic where two approaches to a position (thesis and antithesis) reveal a greater truth (synthesis).
In this scenario we clearly have mewtwo leveling a challenge at the institution of Pokémon battling, and the movie fails to provide a compelling antithesis. Instead the movie resolves this tension by having mewtwo go “too far.” Thus the focus moves from this institutional critique to mewtwo and mewtwo’s failures. This distracts from the genuine philosophical issues brought up in the movie.
If you asked me for an example of this approach done right in fiction, MCU’s Black Panther is a good one. Killmonger is clearly a villain, but his aim to use Wakanda’s wealth as a force for good in the world is actually acknowledged as somewhat worth striving for. Even when Killmonger is rightly put down, the Wakanda reflects on his critique and actually become better people for it. There’s no moment like this in the first Pokémon movie, or if there is it’s extremely subtle.
As for my article, I wasn’t arguing that no criticism of Pokémon battles was warranted. In fact I end the post by indicating a more powerful criticism would revolve around identifying where consent is and isn’t lacking in the Pokémon world. If there are situations where consent is fully given and Pokémon and trainers are equal, then the question becomes what ways does battling encourage and stray from this ideal.
I intended to do a follow-up article exploring these ideas, but never got around to it. I think Philosophy Tube has a video exploring this idea, though.
Pokemon don’t exclusively evolve from combat. Please see the bulbasaur episode in pokemon season 1. Might be episode 10. Whilst bulbasaur doesn’t evolve here, the others do and it is not combat related