Pokémon Go and My Inner Hoarder: A Sobering Reflection

It’s 2024, and somehow, I’ve found myself back in the digital clutches of Pokémon Go, the mobile sensation that first took the world by storm in 2016. I can vaguely recall why I abandoned it back then. Progress felt slow, especially with the complete absence of PokéStops near my home, which forced me to consider actually buying PokéBalls—something that shouldn’t have felt like a financial decision. Add to that the frustratingly elusive rare and legendary Pokémon, which seemed reserved for the lucky few. So, with a bad taste in my mouth, I uninstalled the app and moved on. Or at least, I thought I had.

Fast-forward eight years. Somehow, I’m back at it, playing daily for the past month, and—here’s the kicker—spending nearly a thousand baht on the game. That’s a lot for someone who generally despises pay-to-win mechanics. Now, I can already hear the counterarguments: “But Pokémon Go isn’t pay-to-win!” Technically, you’re right. You can enjoy the game without spending a cent, but let’s be real: that “enjoyable” experience often feels hollow if you’re not investing in all the extras that make progression smoother.

How Pokémon Go Feeds My Hoarding Habit

If you don’t know me, here’s one personal quirk—I’m a bit of a hoarder. I like having things, nice things, lots of them. And Pokémon Go has expertly preyed on that instinct. Whether it’s a high CP (Combat Power) Pokémon, a three-star ‘mon, or a shiny variant that’s just a recolor of something I already have—my first impulse is to keep them all.

Take yesterday, for example. I hopped on a train from the Government Complex in Chaeng Watthana to Siam Square just to participate in a Raid Hour event. I arrived around 5 PM, catching a few lesser Pokémon to pass the time before the main event: a Legendary Raid featuring Giratina. And boy, when that clock hit 6 PM, I was all in—three sets of raid tickets bought, back-to-back raids, and by the end, I had caught nine Giratinas. Nine. Why do I need nine of the same Pokémon? I have no idea. Maybe it’s their rarity, or maybe I’m stuck in the sunk cost fallacy because I already dropped 200 baht on the commute alone. Either way, Pokémon Go is a masterclass in making you feel like you can’t walk away empty-handed.

The Game’s Strategy: Keep You Hooked by Making You Hoard

Here’s where it gets clever—Pokémon Go knows how to milk your hoarding instincts. There are so many different Pokémon worth keeping: high-value ones, shiny ones, XL & XS ones, even different forms. When you start, the game generously gives you 300 Pokémon slots. But eventually, you’ll outgrow that, especially if you’re like me and can’t part with even one of your eight identical Giratinas. Want more space? That’ll cost you 200 PokéCoins for 50 more slots. You can see where this is going.

But it’s not just Pokémon that need storage. You need PokéBalls, too. Not just any PokéBalls, but a variety—standard red ones for weak catches, blue ones for tougher battles, and ultra-rare black ones for the big leagues. Throw in berries to calm down stubborn catches (yes, there are different types for different Pokémon), and healing items for your battle-weary team, and suddenly, you’re managing an entire digital warehouse of stuff.

Once you’re in, it’s tough to get out. You’ll constantly feel like you need more space, more items, more everything. If you choose not to spend real money, fine, but you’ll pay in time, painstakingly checking each Pokémon to see if it’s worth keeping. And of course, the game buries important stats like IVs (Individual Values) deep in a submenu, just to make it a little more annoying.

Where’s the Fun, Really?

So, what’s the appeal? It’s not a fighting game where strategy gets your heart racing. It’s not a racing game where precision earns you victories. It’s not even a puzzle game that scratches the itch of problem-solving. No, Pokémon Go is a game for hoarders, collectors, people who get a thrill from amassing digital stuff. You might point to the Battle League as evidence of more competitive gameplay, but come on—battles are decided by the Pokémon you choose, not your skill. The actual combat? Just mindless screen-tapping.

At the end of the day, Pokémon Go is a glorified stamp collection disguised as a game—and it’s scarily effective. I fell for it, I know that much. I realize now that it’s a hobby that, while entertaining, offers me no real benefits. And yet, even as I finish this reflection, I’m reaching for my phone to see if any new Pokémon have spawned nearby. Guess they’ve got me hooked again.