If 2016 is the year of the monkey, it surely belongs to its more famous animated cousin, Mankey. On February 27th, millions celebrated 20 years since the birth of Pokémon, a series conceived by Satoshi Tajiri, a video-game designer, in 1996 on the back of Gameboy’s successful worldwide launch in 1989. His idea was simple and extensive; an animation following the adventures of a young go-getter, Ash Ketchum, and his friends as they set about collecting creatures in a bid to enter tournaments and understand the infinite animal kingdom of pocket monsters. Celebrating 20 continuous years is a worthy milestone. Pokémon brought endless riches to those—including your correspondent—who grew up during a Japanese breakout in the 1990s. Mr Satoshi’s imaginative world toes the line of many modern mythmakers; underpinning the animation is his childhood love of collecting insects, blended with Japan’s technological innovation. Crisp aesthetics spanning climates and pseudo-cultures, and an unlimited universe of creatures, gives Pokémon its distinct character. The catchphrase familiar to children of the 90s—“Gotta catch ‘em all”—encouraged a scientific purpose and an admiration for the unknown in inquisitive children. Pokémon is a Darwinian tale of observation, collection and recording with Buddhist mind-set, featuring a protagonist sporting denim jeans with a sense of adventure akin to a wandering Sufi. With the exception of Star Wars, no multinational saga on the small or big screen comes close to this level of spirituality.

Pokémon’s crown as the ultimate in children’s entertainment is clear enough; more than 277m games sold, over 21.5 billion trading cards printed in 10 languages, 17 feature films and $57.65 billion in revenue as of 2015. No current-day phenomenon comes close to Pokemon-imperialism. Peppa Pig, a favourite for younger naysayers, can only claim $1 billion of revenue, including merchandise sales. Generation X tilts towards Scooby Doo. Neither can justifiably claim to outdo and outlive Japan’s most successful export. Such is Pokémon’s multiplatform success that even its proprietors are unable to pin a word onto it. On its official website, Pokémon is not limited to an animation, a video game. Nor is it merely a merchandise conveyor belt. Instead, the Pokémon Company describes the franchise as “one of the most popular children's entertainment properties in the world”, a multi-faced god bridging a gap between commercial success and on-screen creativity.

Ask millennials about their childhood or teenage years and many will surely scream Pokémon until yellow in the face. Pokémon transformed the way in which millennials identify with their place in the world. What started as a Japanese-centric cartoon—a boy leaving home to traverse richer, urban climbs in the search for better prospects—resonated beyond Asia to all manner of families, rich and poor alike. Ash Ketchum, Misty and Brock, the holy trinity of Pokémon characters, exhibit an individualist way of life appreciated by many today through a love of lone travelling. Access to information particularly resonates to this day, with the human characters carrying a Pokedex, a device not too dissimilar to a smartphone with scanning features.

Pokémon may not reach quite its zenith of the late 1990s and early 2000s again, but it has a place in the heart of a global community. It celebrates adventure, instant data, and diverse friendships—including that with your enslaved pet. It perfected the craze for Manga and mainstream gaming into a perfect product both off-screen and on-screen. A moment in time when America and Europe transfixed its gaze on all things Japanese—Pokémon, Hello Kitty, Tamagotchi toys—and predicted the future with its technology. That is some feat for a 20-year old polyglot institution, trying to catch ‘em all.