To augment something means to make it greater, larger, more intense. An augmented bank account sounds great, as does an augmented glass of wine. But up until “Pokémon Go” came along, we had never considered augmented reality.
For those hopelessly mired in regular reality, here’s the Monitor’s David Brooks to briefly explain the phenomenon that is “Pokémon Go”: “You hunt for and interact with Pokémon animals that seem to exist in the real world if you’re viewing the world through the downloaded smart phone game – hence the term ‘augmented reality.’ ”
If your “smart” phone is the one conveniently attached to the wall in your kitchen, here’s another way to think of the game: Remember how Jimmy Stewart (as Elwood P. Dowd) was the only one who could see “Harvey” the giant rabbit? If Harvey was a pooka in the Pokémon game, everybody could see him just by looking at the world through the camera on their phone.
And just as Harvey created problems for lovable Elwood, “Pokémon Go” has been a pain for some. Players have fallen into ditches, walked into buildings, met up with thieves and come to blows with other players, and the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum and Arlington National Cemetery have had to request that visitors not attempt to “catch” Pokémon characters on their hallowed grounds. Boring old reality always has a way of asserting itself.
The game is a fad, and like all fads will fade. But we suspect that augmented reality is here to stay – and rarely has emerging technology felt so bittersweet.
First the sweet part: “Pokémon Go” has once-sedentary gamers walking for miles in the great outdoors. And we have heard about dozens of people gathering in Concord’s Bicentennial Square at midnight on a weekday, sober and jovial, working together to find a Jigglypuff or some other imaginary creature. With so much division in the world, anything that unites is worth celebrating.
But here’s the bitter: Who needs augmented reality when plain reality is so entertaining? We understand the argument that a great novel, painting, film or song create their own kind of augmented reality, and perhaps in a way only superficially different from “Pokémon Go,” but art tethers people to the world rather than creating an alternative to it. We understand, too, that unaugmented reality feels too dangerous for the likes of modern-day Huckleberry Finns, Tom Sawyers and Becky Thatchers, and that urging our children to put down their phones, build a raft and light out for the territory might get us arrested. And we suppose there are reasons, maybe ticks or PETA, why people shouldn’t try to catch real creatures, like frogs, garter snakes and spotted salamanders, instead of augmented reality critters.
We get it, but it sure feels like something precious is fading.
For a fleeting moment, reality is flush with the kind of magic that “Pokémon Go” users could only dream of. Goblins live in trees, treasure is buried everywhere and, with a few modifications, bicycles can fly. But eventually people grow up, and bit by bit the wonder of childhood falls away. The fairies are only lightning bugs adept at bioluminescence. Kissing a frog only gets you slimy lips. You can’t really dig all the way to China. And pirates are not hiding out in the reeds of New Hampshire ponds.
So the magic of youth disappears. But the feeling that accompanied the magic, that never goes away. Real adventure, real discovery, real wonder, a real connection to the natural world – there’s no app for that. And the augmented reality generation will certainly pay a price.
Just imagine if young Robert Frost was a catcher of Jigglypuffs instead of a swinger of birches.