Consider the case of veteran British actor Bill Nighy, who played Clifford Enterprises founder Howard Clifford in the film Detective Pikachu (2019). When speaking about his time on set, Nighy remarked that he had been “generationally disqualified” from Pokémon in the franchise’s early days, but had since found joy in discovering the wonders of the encyclopaedic Pokedex book. This affection, fostered at the age of 69, is a sign of a broader trend: it is simply impossible to escape Pokémon in 2019. It is an entity that has deeply affected universal society – arguably for the better – connecting people of all ages and from all corners of the Earth for more than two decades. It is a game, a world, that is founded upon fun, discovery, exploration and what it means to wonder, to imagine and to dream. Pokémon is the highest-grossing entertainment franchise of all time, having made a whopping US$90 billion since its conception in 1995. As the franchise has grown, the fictional world of Pokémon has become ever more intertwined with our own. Once, the franchise was just an anime series, a trading card community and a pair of ambitious games for the Game Boy. Now there is a mobile game played by millions of people all over the world, with November 15 having marked the behemoth series’ first mainline venture onto home consoles via the games Pokémon Sword and Shield . Pokémon are no longer merely a figment of the imagination, some intangible fancy pondered by youngsters as their imaginations blossom. The franchise permeates the boundaries between our worlds, uniting generations in a shared passion for something wholesome, positive, and deeply invested in community. The augmented reality of Pokémon Go is the bridge connecting the real world to the virtual world of Pokémon. Nowadays, simply looking through the lens of a phone camera can reveal a Pidgey nestled amid autumnal foliage, a Squirtle riding the inward tides or, terrifyingly, a Mr Mime plopped on your living room couch, sizing you up with those ghastly eyes. (As if Mr Mime wasn’t already frightening enough, I recently realised that it’s not actually wearing clothes: those blue growths protruding from its head and its curled clown feet are part of its body.) However, it is the community behind Pokémon Go that makes it special. For example, although game-maker Niantic recently announced it would be introducing an official PVP (player vs player) League to Pokémon Go early next year, dedicated fans have been making do since the app’s launch back in 2016, with Pokémon resource community The Silph Road having arranged The Sinister Cup, an annual competitive circuit designed by the fans, for the fans. Meanwhile, official events known as Go Fests have been held in cities all over the world, inviting folks of all ages and backgrounds to congregate and share their passion. One particular show of communal solidarity stands out. This year, players from Salamina – the largest Greek Island in the Saronic Gulf – lost access to Pokémon Go . Affected players appealed to Reddit in search of a solution and, seven months later, video-game website Eurogamer reported that Niantic had rectified the issue. “Last night a member of our community opened Pokémon Go and came across a huge surprise,” a player wrote in a Reddit thread. “After seven months of no spawns, the whole Saronic Gulf, including islands Salamina, Aegina, Agkistri and Poros, is once again full of them. Our combined efforts gave us a great victory, and from last night, we are once again able to go out and hunt!” “We, as a community, owe a great deal of gratitude and appreciation to every single person here that even with his/her upvote helped this effort come true,” the post continues, thanking individual players, streamers and journalists alike for coming together to resolve the issue. There may have been only 80 avid players in Salamina, but thousands of others banded together to help them get their game back. One player announced they would name one of their favourite Pokémon “Salaminaia” in honour of the resolution. Catching Pokémon in your local area is a curiously affecting thing. Thanks to Niantic’s real-world mapping, playing Pokémon Go converts your local area into a world teeming with fictional creatures. And the Pokémon world is beginning to align with our own in an unsubtle way: the Galar region from Sword and Shield , for example, is based on Britain, for example. Pokémon Go has increasingly integrated real-life activity into its systems. You walk to hatch eggs, select a buddy Pokémon to gain more candy and undertake field research tasks in your local area to net rewards. The accessible world of Pokémon Go is a prototype of the congenial societal make-up of Ryme City from Detective Pikachu , which grossed more than US$430 million at the box office. Ryme City is a place where people and Pokémon live in harmony – not as master and pet (or whatever you call a Pokémon companion), but as colleagues, neighbours and fellow citizens. Now, in our world as in the fictional metropolis, Pokémon extend far beyond the boundaries of media, permeating reality as an inescapable global phenomenon. But there’s more to it than just fitness goals and local landmarks. Pokémon has always brought people together to experience a shared passion. And now, as it becomes even more intertwined with reality, that capability to unite people is increasing at an exponential rate. Recently, however, a toxic segment of Pokémon fandom emerged from the shadows and betrayed the community’s sense of wholesomeness. Disappointed by the decision to cut the National Dex from Pokémon – a Pokedex featuring every creature ever designed – this splinter faction spat hate at developers, labelling the move “Dexit”. The community responded by creating the #ThankYouGameFreak hashtag on Twitter, which fans everywhere used to share personal stories of how Pokémon had helped them. I remember playing out in the back garden when I was six years old, armed with nothing more than a plastic bucket and spade. I had recruited several fellow aspiring Pokémon masters in the vicinity, all between the ages of four and eight, to join me on my expedition. “There’s bound to be a Diglett here somewhere,” I told them, arms tiring from plunging plastic garden tools into sun-baked dirt. “You never know, maybe even a Dugtrio – if we’re lucky.” Now, however, my memories of hunting for Diglett are no longer tied to children’s playthings. The world of Pokémon has been made tangible and become a positive force capable of creating real connections between people and, for fans, making everyday lives extraordinary. The Washington Post