Arguing over the science of mystery animals

This post is a first attempt to unpack the issue of cryptid research as “scientific” as perceived by those who know the history of cryptozoology and those just generally curious about mystery animals. It’s a thorny topic that typically ends up in arguments. Even if you aren’t interested in cryptids, this discussion reveals notable conceptions about the public perception of science.

Cryptozoology is still my favorite subject. Can you tell? The Pop Goes the Cryptid framing flowed from my observations of modern online media since the 2000s and the broadening of the use of the “cryptid” label. There are fascinating aspects that repeatedly surface in online discussions that reflect the general view about what cryptozoology was, is, and should be.

Since my Pop Cryptid presentation and ideas were widely circulated in the past two weeks, I’ve received some thoughtful comments via Facebook exchanges that revolved around the argument of cryptozoology as a science and whether it was ever really scientific. I’d like to expand on those points and provide two readily-found examples that show the strong perception of cryptozoology as potentially scientific, or at least a respectable matter for study.

Was cryptozoology ever scientific?

I want to be clear about my position from the start. There is still a vocal contingent of people who support cryptozoology in the sense that stories about mystery animals will turn out to be “new” species. I don’t find merit in that. For many reasons, I disagree that cryptozoology should be defined that narrowly. The field of cryptozoology, however, undoubtedly formed with the intention to be a sub-discipline of zoology. Some early participants, including scientific professionals, bought into that idea. But this scientific effort of cryptozoology failed, and the subject has since diffused into the vernacular. To label a creature as a “cryptid” is socially contentious, dependent on how you interpret cryptozoology.

Defenders of scientific cryptozoology make assumptions about the early days. Going back to the ISC journal and newsletter of 40 years ago is necessary and enlightening. The endeavor to legitimize cryptozoology was not well received by the majority of the scientific community. Despite the high enthusiasm by the editor and some contributors, the information presented via the ISC was not high quality, the evidence was shoddy, and the disagreements were numerous. It very much reminds me (true story) of a pair of guys in my freshman college chemistry class who assumed that if they showed up in white lab coats, sat at the front table, and spouted certain technical jargon, they would get a high grade.

Was cryptozoology ever really scientific? Did it contribute anything to zoology or accomplish anything of value? What would cryptozoology be like today if it became “scientific” as many advocates wish? These questions underlie much of the discourse on cryptids but get little to no attention.

Justin Mullis took the time to read and opine on my Pop Cryptid presentation. He also knows of my past work and interest in the behavior I call “being scientifical” – where non-scientists use the language, actions, and other superficial trappings of science and scientific culture to appear more credible to a likewise non-scientist audience. I looked at cryptozoologists as part of my study of Scientifical Americans, and, for sure, they do this. The tactic is effective, particularly with an audience of amateurs. Specifically, the cryptozoology crowd has many non-scientists who advocate for scientific methods even though these individuals would not be able to clearly describe what “scientific” would mean.

For those who should know better – people like Heuvelmans, Sanderson, Krantz, Meldrum, etc. who had scientific training – I say they were doing something different. They employed their credentials to suggest they understood scientific standards and norms, while still failing to meet them.

Justin commented that he has “strong reservations about the idea that cryptozoology was ever a truly scientific discipline.” Instead, Sanderson, Heuvelmans, and others submitting to the ISC Journal were “playing” at being scientists rather than doing science.

Ron Pine confirmed that “it was the intention of some of the early advocates of cryptozoology for it to constitute an actual science,” but it did not succeed. Ron takes a hard line that there has not ever been a cryptozoological success story because the field did not contribute anything to scientific knowledge.

Justin and Ron took from my presentation that I held that cryptozoology was once “scientific” and has lost that status. They argue it never had that status to begin with.

I understand this take, but I can not definitively conclude if early cryptozoology was scientific or not. Boundary work is fraught with problems. Cryptozoology was presented with the intention of being a sub-discipline of zoology. However, anyone with a foundation in science reading the early literature would not be impressed. The substance was not there and never showed up later. So, in hindsight, it is clear that it was off to a poor start and never got footing.

The nostalgic perception of cryptozoology

More important than the pedantic discussion about whether it ever was truly scientific is the perception of the field, then and now. It is an -ology that once involved (and to a far lesser degree still involves) people who talked a good talk, waived their hands confidently, and advertised themselves as credentialed scientists. Paranormal unnaturalness was rejected. Researchers published in the Journal and subjected themselves to peer review (which was usually negative). Advocates of scientific cryptozoology seem to cling to that nostalgic ideal design. Perception matters.

We don’t have hard rules about what is or isn’t science. There exists many discussions about the fuzzy boundaries between science and pseudoscience, including in my own book. Interestingly, cryptozoology is openly labeled as pseudoscience, while others will insist it is valid research. No one definitively nails it because it can’t be pinned down. Semantic arguments persist. Some will always make the most optimistic assumptions, lower the hurdles, and move the goalposts. Others dig in and won’t budge. Because of the messiness, I don’t find much value in participating in that debate. I prefer to pivot to a way to move forward in studying the widespread phenomenon of people believing in and embracing mystery creatures.

Examples hearkening back to scientific cryptozoology

There are two situations you can readily observe in cryptid discussions that reveal how seriously advocates take the subject. Both hearken back to the nostalgic scientific framing of cryptozoology.

First, with great regularity, posts about certain mystery creatures labeled as “cryptids” will include someone noting that the subject (Mothman, dogman, dragons, mermaids, aliens, etc.) is not a true cryptid as per the “official” definition. (There is no official definition of cryptid – everyone has their own version of it, and it has changed over time.) A mystery creature can only be considered a proper cryptid, they say, is if it is zoological in nature and potentially real, calling back to the “scientific” intention of cryptozoology. You can find this gatekeeping behavior most commonly on Reddit, probably the most active cryptozoology/cryptid forum. Why does this consistently happen if the field never established itself? There is a strong perception that it was scientific that carries through to today. “No true cryptozoologist” includes non-natural creatures in his scope of cryptids.

Here is an example in answer to the question of “Why aren’t aliens cryptids?”

Secondly, a regularly reoccurring post is someone asking how they can study cryptids or become a cryptozoologist. I surely don’t know what they assume the field to be, but the context suggests they think it is a legitimate area of study, perhaps even a “science”. Again, we see the perception that you can train to be a cryptozoologist as a real career. I’m always stunned by the naïveté (but, by now, shouldn’t be). The questioners don’t seem to be asking how to become content creators to make a living; they seem to be asking how to become an expert in an area that actually has no standards and is loaded with paracelebrities. That’s weird. But it also suggests the continued perception of cryptozoology as a legitimate, scientific field, especially when the responses say to “get a degree in zoology, first”.

We can’t easily fix a society without a clue for how legitimate science functions. Or how pseudoscientific ideas gain credibility. I advocate using topics that people are interested in, like monsters or cryptids, to illustrate how critical thinking can be applied. That can work, and many educators are doing that. The Pop Cryptids model can provide illustrative context for that content.