Review: The 37th Parallel

UPDATE: Chuck Zukowski appears to have responded to my post. You can see the comment at the bottom of this post. If it’s really him, he is really quite angry at my characterization of him. He also rightly points out that I do not have a science background (hopefully that’s clear to any regular readers). I’m not going to change my review. I’m also going to leave the comment up; it’s more ranting than argument, but I do feel the guy deserves the space to defend himself. I would prefer that people who put themselves in the public eye just avoid seeking out commentary from random people on the Internet, but I can’t dictate what people do with their free time.

The biggest takeaway from the comment, for me, is that the individual claiming to be Chuck says that Ben Mezrich mischaracterized him. He says that his wife didn’t have two jobs, for instance. If I were Chuck, I’d be furious with Ben for characterizing myself in such a horrible way. I suppose if you read this review now, keep in mind that the depiction of Chuck is far more a fictionalized character than an accurate portrayal. To the extent that this is true, Mezrich has published pseudo-fiction as nonfiction. That goes further than just making up dialogue or using a composite character. It feels a little like character assassination…

The 37th Parallel: The Secret Truth Behind America's UFO HighwayThe 37th Parallel: The Secret Truth Behind America’s UFO Highway by Ben Mezrich

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I’d never read anything by Ben Mezrich before. I’d heard of his works, though, if only because of the occasional Hollywood adaptation. I’d seen The Social Network. It was interesting to see that he’d written a book on the paranormal, which I found squirreled away in a corner of my local library a while back. Either this book or the concept of concentrated geographic regions of paranormal activity across America had been discussed in the so-bad-it’s-good “documentary” Hellier, so there was the faintest ring of recognition in the back of my mind when I did come across it. I figured, why not? I’ve read plenty of books and stories and watched plenty of shows with a paranormal bent, so I felt confident that at best, this could be a thoughtful examination of strange phenomenon or perhaps just a quirky character piece, while at worst, it would be some entertaining fluff to occupy some of my down time.

Sadly, for the most part, The 37th Parallel failed to even be entertaining.

There are many reasons why I did not enjoy this read. Some are related to style and narrative, but some are related to its underlying subjects. Frankly, there was quite a bit of overlap between these factors. My central complaint is that the book follows a thoroughly unlikeable and uncompelling outsider who is convinced that he is a crusading hero for the truth–and it never really makes much of an effort to challenge or contradict his beliefs about himself or his investigations. I had never heard of Chuck Zukowski before, but it is clear that the central figure of this narrative is eager for publicity. By way of example: in the book, he finds a little bit of metal at the alleged Roswell crash site, orders some analysis that produces data that would allow for a more conventional explanation, and pushes for a press release and special event to celebrate his findings; he calls out a local news team to interview him about a cattle mutilation case he’s investigating; and when he comes up with his “UFO highway” hypothesis, central to the book but barely present in it, his sister asks, knowing him, “What do you want to do with this? Put out a press release?” A quick Google search shows that he maintains a website; he’s active on Twitter under a handle based off his site name; he turns up for radio and news interviews; and his IMDb page indicates that he’s slowly carved a bit of the paranormal TV racket out for himself, most recently with his own show, Alien Highway. To return focus to his portrayal just within the book’s narrative, Chuck is a gun-nut paranoid obsessive who forces his family to relocate from California to Colorado so he can go from a full-time job in microchips to a part-time freelance position closer to some of the more interesting paranormal activity he’s gotten reports about. He follows a quest for glory to become a Reserve Sheriff’s Deputy, but his need for publicity ultimately puts him in opposition with his department, and he’s fired from that volunteer role. Once out of the volunteer job, he makes no effort to go back to full-time work, instead focusing more on his hobby of hunting UFOs and investigating cattle mutilations. In the meantime, his wife has to hold down two jobs just to cover the bills. He overspends on bullshit technology for his investigations, because just about every middle-aged white male paranormal investigator conflates lots of gadgets with doing science. While he still had a decent income, he would try to bribe his wife with appliance upgrades and kitchen remodeling to get her over the frustration of his overspending (in other words, he spent even more on “woman stuff” to try to pacify his wife over spending too much). He seems anxious about his wife not understanding his UFO obsession, and he gets frustrated when she doesn’t believe the same nonsense he does, but she’s shown as nothing less than supportive, giving him all this free time to travel across the country and letting him blow through their money even while she’s working double and raising their kids. A highlight of his reckless, selfish behavior is when he reflects on two incidences in which his wife “exploded on him”: one time after maxing out a credit cart on equipment “the same afternoon she’d tried to make a payment on their youngest son’s braces” and another time when he spent $300 on scalpels the morning after their washing machine broke down. If there is a true hero, it’s Tammy, his long-suffering wife, whose main character flaw appears to be an enabler tendency and an unwillingness to demand that he make any sort of sacrifice for his family or even seriously consider the possibility of psychiatric care even as he spirals into paranoid thinking including the belief that he is perpetually tailed by government agents in black SUVs.

There was nothing charming to me about Chuck. He seemed like a bad dad and a bad husband, too obsessed with what he wanted to see to even register how his actions impacted those around him. Maybe that’s an unfair read, but there’s nothing he did for his family (at least in the book) that was truly selfless. Sure, he bought an RV and took them on family trips a lot when the kids were younger–so he could drive to places known for paranormal activity. He even scheduled participation in a volunteer archaeological dig with his wife for his wedding anniversary so that he could learn more about how to conduct physical investigations at field sites.

Chuck also broadcasts a lot of tired, racist beliefs about Native Americans. He believed the Anasazi were in communication with aliens. He reads Indian “sacred and historic” sites as somehow fundamentally connected to the paranormal phenomenon he tracks. For that matter, he does not seem to register that indigenous peoples have been repeatedly displaced. And in the tradition of the classic, “I’m not racist, I have a/an [insert race here] friend,” he even has a “part Native American” friend who drifts in and out of the story for Chuck to use as a tracker, sidekick, and key to get onto indigenous lands.

Mezrich tries to keep us in Chuck’s perspective, only occasionally taking a trip to track someone else’s (typically sympathetic or allied) viewpoint. I suppose he was trying hard to frame Chuck as heroic, or perhaps he just couldn’t think of a better way to humanize him. But his depiction of Chuck is someone with 90% grandiose thinking and 10% halfhearted humility. His acknowledgments only complicate the subject further, as he remarks, “Chuck is certainly one of a kind, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm about what he views as a quest for the ultimate truth, regardless of the consequences” (emphasis added). I’m not sure how to read that aside, other than as an admission by Mezrich that Chuck’s delusional worldview is flawed and lacking in self-awareness. There is nowhere in the text itself that felt like an attempt to be tongue-in-cheek or to seriously engage with Chuck’s thinking.

There are problems outside of Chuck. Another issue for me was the style. The dialogue manufactured to fill in most scenes, to present something closer to a novel than a more removed non-fiction narrative, reads as cliche and stilted. Characters talk like they’re in a bland action movie, rather than like real people. Most of the characters, in fact, are not given the opportunity to be presented as the fully rounded humans they must be in reality, with the bare-bones writing directing most of the energy to Chuck’s delusional thinking and his cattle mutilation investigations. We’re constantly bombarded with exposition, like when Chuck “explains” Roswell to his wife, and actual dramatic tensions are typically skipped over. Yet anyone with even a passing interest in the paranormal is unlikely to uncover any new “facts” here, just the same lukewarm, regurgitated tales with even the most wildly speculative accounts presented as genuine possibilities. On top of all this, Mezrich makes the baffling decision to hop around in time, which had me shuffling between chapters to see whether events were happening before or after what I was currently reading; it didn’t build to anything, and a standard timeline would have only brought clarity, so it’s a truly puzzling choice.

A final failing of the book is its failure to wrestle with the nature of the investigations here. Chuck wants to be viewed as engaging in science, and Mezrich never challenges this. It’s a common failing of paranormal narratives; the story only works if you suspend your disbelief, so better not point out the shortcomings in that story. Chiefly, Chuck thinks it’s science to go to cattle mutilation sites days or weeks later, interview the ranch owners, take samples from the corpses, and record observations about the sites. He eventually finds a veterinary school that will autopsy the corpses, resulting only in a continued refrain that the cause of death cannot be explained. Chuck apparently has no interest in actually investigating what “normal” animal deaths are like. Despite there being fields of study into decomposition, Chuck remains focused only on those cases that are called in. Yes, they present interesting mysteries, but you’re never going to get an answer if you keep poking at the things that can’t be explained with the tools you have. His investigations could provide interesting data points in aggregate, but he’s looking for proof of a particular worldview rather than trying to understand what’s happening. Unknowns are, to him, proof of his beliefs, rather than gaps in the path to better understanding. His apparent lack of interest in seriously examining how animals die and how they decay means that he can’t seriously rule out other results. He’s spent years doing this and has never found anything conclusive, but he thinks the big breakthrough will be through continuing to focus only on the unexplained. In other words, he’s trying to be an expert without bothering with the basics. He’s not trained as a scientist, and he seems to view forensic investigations for a police case as interchangeable with the scientific method.

Chuck’s fixation on the outlier cases of animal deaths foreshadows his “UFO highway” hypothesis. You see, he gradually filled a map of the US with pins showing where paranormal events occurred. One night, he took down all the pins and restored only pins that correlated with “his recent [investigations of] mutilations,” “his own UFO investigations,” and MUFON files sent to him by his sister where the “events . . . could be corroborated by multiple witnesses, or that had enough circumstantial evidence for him to consider them verified.” Using a highly subjective process reliant upon his own experience and judgment, he produced a band of cases that were concentrated between the 36th and 38th parallel. It’s sort of an interesting coincidence, but when you start with the factors he used, it’s not weird that there would be some sort of geographically contained result. He even claims that the “only big hitter that’s missing” is his sacred Roswell, but attempts to explain this by saying that if the flying saucer that crashed had come from Kenneth Arnold’s Mount Rainier sighting, it would have to pass the band to get to Roswell. He does not seem to register that Mount Rainier, too, is outside of his predetermined band, and so the grandfather of UFO sightings would be excluded as well. And he outright ignores the many, many, many UFO sightings throughout the US and, for that matter, the world that don’t fit within this geographic band. Combating anecdotes with anecdotes is counterproductive, but I could point to famous UFO cases like the 1967 Malmstrom Air Force Base incident or the 1950 Mariana UFO video or the 1980 Rendlesham Forest incident, not to mention the numerous sighting reports from throughout the nation going into organizations like MUFON, or the sightings that have given rise to serious investigations by other countries that don’t even lie across this latitude (e.g., Brazil, Canada, France, and the UK). In other words, even without careful scrutiny, this hypothesis just flies in the face of reason, demanding that we give greater weight to reports verified by one man operating in one region of the country.

With the suggestion of his sister, Chuck then added pins of military bases and those “American Indian sites, both sacred and historic,” that happened to fall within this geographic band–a completely irrelevant data point, and highly selective since he’s not adding all the bases and indigenous communities or archaeological sites outside of that band. They ended up with a lot of pins on a narrow band of a map after this highly guided approach, arriving at a predetermined outcome. His sister even concedes, “Some of this has got to be coincidence. Some of it is probably related to the reporting mechanisms. Where we’re situated is informing the kind of reports we see, and the ones we can verify.” Yet still, these faithful believers choose to accept the findings because the map looks significant somehow. It’s a small matter to them that they can’t determine how or why it’s significant.

It does seem that some in the paranormal community have latched onto this. I’m not surprised. True believers engage in so much magical thinking and confirmation bias that anything vaguely interesting or curious gets grafted on to support the colossal, rickety structure of belief that has grown to define their worldviews. But it is nonetheless frustrating to see, and Mezrich, who appears to otherwise be a “mainstream” author writing about “serious” nonfiction subjects, should not have presented such a belief set without seriously engaging with and challenging it. Yes, perhaps it was obvious to Mezrich that these ideas should not be taken seriously, and perhaps he should be able to trust a reader to engage critically with a work. But all too often, that will not happen. His use of heavy redaction on the last page, to suggest that Chuck finally found some truly otherworldly occurrence that confirmed his beliefs, is an especially awful example of how he put flimsy beliefs ahead of rigorous thinking. I’m disappointed all around.

New experiences on a new computer

I do sometimes have reason to work from home, and I’d reached a point where my desktop computer simply wasn’t all that reliable for that task. It was the final straw for me, and so I purchased a new (well, refurbished) computer and a new monitor. That ends a ten-year reign for my last desktop. I built that computer, and I upgraded it at least a couple times over the years, and it served me well. I have nothing but fondness for that machine, though I’ve now set it aside.

With a new computer came opportunities to test games and graphic settings that would have taxed–or entirely overwhelmed–its predecessor. Look, it’s not like I went out and bought a top-of-the-line computer. But it could at least comfortably handle current-gen titles!

The first thing I tried out was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Jurassic World: Evolution. I’d played the hell out of that game, but always on lower graphics settings, and I still experienced frequent frame-rate drops, lag, and crashes. It now looks incredible running on the higher-end graphics settings, and the game loads quicker and runs smoothly without any perceived technical issues. The lighting, the vegetation, the building and people textures, and even the already-lovely dinosaurs were all vastly improved!

20200724222851_1
Notice the details within the Explorer itself, with sharper resolutions and more clearly defined textures. You don’t get the best part of the experience with a still image, though; the movement of individual blades of grass in the wind and the dynamic lighting and shadows make me feel like I’m really there.

I mostly play games that are older or from mid-sized or smaller studios, so consequently I can typically get away with fairly limited or outdated tech. I actually struggled to think of another game that I wanted to play that would actually test out the computer’s abilities a bit more. I ended up purchasing the second Star Wars: Battlefront II (which really seems like it should just be Battlefront IV). I didn’t push things that hard, opting for medium graphics, but the game played smoothly, and I had a lot of fun with it.

Interestingly, the gameplay itself was incredibly smooth and I don’t think I ever had any noticeable framerate drops or weird pop-ins or anything to disrupt the experience, but the cutscenes, which all looked incredible, often had little hiccups of drops in performance in between scene transitions, especially for those scenes following the end of a level. This isn’t going to mark the shift of my attention to a greater number of AAA titles (not that that was ever very likely, given my interests), but it at least means I have a computer I think can safely handle the occasional newer Star Wars game, like Fallen Order or the upcoming Squadrons.

Also, while I’m not interested in “reviewing” the newer Battlefront II, I do want to talk about its story. That story is surprisingly short; I’ve played less than 10 hours in the game so far, including in some of the Arcade and Instant Action modes, and yet I’ve already completed both “campaigns” with the middle difficulty setting. That said, I think it’s clear enough what one of my future blog post topics will be about…

A final thought for this post, though. My Arena save file is on the old machine. Maybe I’ll transfer it at some point. Maybe I’ll start a new one. But I’m betting that my attempt to play through Arena might have truly met its end (an end that admittedly came months ago). I actually feel okay with that.

Taking a Prehistoric Road Trip

I recently had the pleasure of watching the three-part PBS miniseries Prehistoric Road Trip. It’s hosted by Emily Graslie, a science educator affiliated with the Chicago Field Museum. I wasn’t familiar with her before this, but you might know her from projects like her YouTube series, “The Brain Scoop.” Graslie is a delightfully energetic, goofy, nerdy, and thoughtful host, and the show thrives off her charisma as she interacts with a variety of paleontologists throughout the series.

Over the course of the three episodes, Graslie takes us on, well, a Prehistoric Road Trip across Great Plains states to see a variety of fossil collections, active dig sites, and other unique locations that represent millions of years of geologic and paleontological history. What sets this show apart from the dozens of other shows about paleontology and prehistoric creatures is that it is firmly centered on contemporary subjects, showcasing a wide range of modern-day researchers, highlighting interesting areas of current research, and discussing issues that I just haven’t really seen in any similar shows. Some of these interesting issues included the relationship between scientists and landowners, the historic colonialist abuses of mineral and scientific natural resources on indigenous lands and current efforts to reverse those trends, and how studies of past climate change show how unique and dangerous the current man-made climate change event is.

We still get to see a lot of cool prehistoric animals, plants, and even bacteria, but the view is more focused on the fossils themselves (although there are some beautiful still reconstructions along the way in the form of sketches and mounts), ranging from freshly discovered in the ground to mounted in museum displays. Along the way, there’s plenty of opportunity for the layperson to learn about how fossils are discovered and prepared, how decisions are made about what to do with fossils, how fossils can be valuable in different types of research, and even how anyone can volunteer to participate in digs. We get a little bit of the history of paleontology in the American West along the way.

It was really cool to hear from a range of voices that most people probably haven’t heard from before. The number of female and indigenous voices was especially cool, given how paleontology has often seemed to be a field overwhelmingly dominated by white men in the past.

Each episode is a little under an hour, and there are only three. If you have even the slightest interest in paleontology or prehistoric creatures, you should check this out. If you’re a layperson paleontology fan like myself, I feel confident you’ll learn at least one new thing and will have a lot of fun along the way!

BMO’s The Sheriff Now

I wanted to take a quick break from the absolutely stupid amount of Jurassic World: Evolution I’ve been playing to say that the new Adventure Time: Distant Lands – BMO was an absolute delight. It was exactly what I’d hope for an extended episode focused on BMO: silly yet melancholic, delightfully weird, cute and dark. And the ending offers a twisty reinterpretation of where this story sits in the timeline–I didn’t anticipate it, for sure.

I don’t think the episode alone makes even a month of HBO Max worthwhile though, if that’s your only reason for it. But I think it would be a great idea to wait for the full four episodes of Distant Lands to come out and to then pay for a single month’s subscription (or take advantage of a free trial, if available). As for me, I’ve enjoyed HBO Max’s lineup, and while it’s not my favorite subscription service, it’s at least making it easy for me to catch up on years’ worth of prestige television I ignored when people were talking about it. Hopefully new original content will make an ongoing subscription worthwhile, but for now I definitely prefer the functionality of HBO Max for those older shows in contrast to what I always found to be a clunky user interface with Amazon Prime.

Anti-mission statement

I haven’t been updating for two reasons. Reason one is simple enough: I’ve just been too busy. Job stuff, so I don’t really want to get into it here. But I’ve been having to put in a lot more hours lately, and it will probably be like that through June. Things already feel less chaotic now, at least.

Reason two is more complex. It’s not like I don’t have anything to share for this blog, but its subject matter has felt especially trivial in light of the national tone and the widespread protests at the moment. I’m glad I stepped away for a little bit, and even with my little platform, I think it’s important to avoid being another white, cisgendered, heterosexual man sucking up all the oxygen and attention within a space. That said, things were bad before. And bad systemic issues definitely aren’t getting solved overnight. I’ve decided I take enough joy out of writing and sharing these posts that I want to keep doing them, and I don’t think they’ll get in the way of anything important.

So, I’m not coming away with a mission statement or anything. I’m going to keep writing about what strikes my fancy within my own pop culture niches (and I’m sure that will continue to have way too much emphasis on the giants of Jurassic Park and Star Wars). I enjoy doing that, and I don’t think it hurts.

All that to say, I think I’ll be back to posting things again. I’m looking forward to that–and that’s enough for me!

Review: The Underground Railroad

The Underground RailroadThe Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Underground Railroad is grim, surreal, fantastical, and darkly satirical. It also rings true–as the acknowledgments attest, this is a fictional narrative built from a tradition of real stories from escaped slaves, from oral histories and the exemplary works of that antebellum literary genre. Its first sections are especially brutal to work through, as the violence and casual disregard for humanity of a slave-holding plantation are described in gruesome detail. The novel quickly deviates into moments of reality-straining fantasy, though, with a literal Underground Railroad, a skyscraper in South Carolina, and a hodgepodge mix of attitudes/philosophies/policies regarding race and labor that feel vaguely anachronistic when encountered from state to state within a narrative period of months. It’s a jarring experience, and it encouraged me to think of the book as not just pseudo-historical fiction but allegory for the contemporary systemic racism and injustice in America, and for continued racist policies post-slavery like black codes in the Jim Crow South or America’s flirtation with eugenics prior to the Second World War. While radically different in style and tone, the subject matter and surreal approach to a fictional slave narrative invites positive comparison to Ishmael Reed’s Flight to Canda.

It took me a while to read this because it was hard to read. Not the writing, and not for lack of interest in the characters (and speaking of, the escaped slave protagonist held my sympathy and interest, but I had a dark fascination with the slave hunter antagonist with his bounty hunter iconography and bizarre black-boy sidekick). The sheer brutality and suffering and often a deep sense of hopelessness and despair, with only the faintest glimmer of hope and with so many senselessly tragic endings, made this very challenging to continue to engage with. It was worth it.

View all my reviews

Apparently the park manager is supposed to *manage* the park

Holy heck, I just realized that I’ve been playing a major portion of Jurassic World: Evolution entirely wrong.

In a nutshell: the game has two types of ratings to determine the success of your parks. One is a dinosaur rating, which uses the total number of dinosaurs, the number of distinct species, the cumulative ratings of individual dinosaurs (based on completeness of gene code and addition of genetic modifications), and the general welfare of the animals to determine how well your park is doing. The other is a guest rating, which looks at security, capacity, and satisfaction to similarly assess the human side of the park’s performance. Both ratings work on a five-star scale, and the average of their scores dictates your park’s overall five-star rating.

Guest satisfaction has always been a struggle for me. It’s easy going at first because you don’t have that many guests, so throwing in a few basic goods and services (restaurants, shops, and restrooms) will satisfy them enough. But as the park grows with the draw of more and better dinosaur attractions, guests demand more. I’ve always struggled to get from 4.5 stars to 5 stars because my dinosaurs toward the later stages of a park’s life are so popular that the park is overrun. I manage it, but it often requires a lot of buildings that make my park look ugly and cluttered and that slow down the performance of the game. And even then, guest opinion oscillates quite a bit. I remember using the trick of shutting down and reopening parks to get the guest count down so that I could beat the system and get a five-star park rating when I was ready to move on to the next island.

Only there’s no reason to “beat the system” because you can build a successful park that stays steady at five full stars, no matter the island or challenges before you. I’ve been overlooking obvious management features all this time.

Most buildings aimed at guests have three types of features to control: the number of staff, the type of product sold, and the price of the product. I’d fiddled with these controls before on many occasions, but I never found much rhyme or reason behind them. I don’t know if these features have been improved since release or if I just didn’t spend enough time with them, but they’re crucial when used correctly. As your park builds in popularity, you should be looking to your structures to see which specific buildings are popular. They might warrant staff increases if they are maxed out with visitors; that way, more guests can use a given building at a time. In contrast, it might be time to tear down a seldom-used facility that’s not contributing to guest satisfaction or park revenue. As something gains in popularity, people are more desirous of premium items at that location, and they are more willing to pay more. Manage these features, and you can have a tremendously successful five-star park that still looks neat and orderly, that doesn’t have constant fluctuations in guest satisfaction, and that more efficiently uses limited park resources (chiefly space and power).

I don’t think I ever figured this out before, not even back when I completed the original campaign the first time around. If I did, it was late in the game, I may have never maximized the value of that knowledge, and I must have forgotten in the many intervening months before I returned to the game. But I doubt I figured it out, at least not fully, or else it’s hard to understand why I found the sandbox and challenge modes to be such a turn-off. Now the challenge modes are piquing my interest more, and I think I will check them out once I get through the copious story content available (and after I go back to optimize my other parks in this campaign save file).

I wrote the following in my original review of the game:

There are a lot of deep statistics that are never explained anywhere in the game, but you only have to get a cursory understanding of any process to make it work. I still don’t fully understand how staffing, item quality, and price affects guest satisfaction with a particular store, and other than knowing that sales price should at least be higher than my own cost, I never did bother to figure it out. I didn’t need to. After I grew frustrated with one park always hovering around 4.5 stars because my continued success would draw down guest satisfaction as demand would continuously outstrip supply, I discovered via a forum tip that you could just close your park down briefly–then everyone would be excited with the reopening and the overcrowding would be gone, solving the problem for a while. Again, the game can be challenging, but it’s typically open to being exploited–and since it’s all about the bottom line with profits and divisional reputation, the game sort of encourages that exploitative mentality.

That doesn’t read like someone who ever figured out how to manage guest buildings. In my defense, my experimentation never really seemed to pay off. I’d try too early in a park’s life, when screwing with the values was more likely to increase how much a facility was costing me, instead of rewarding me with increased paying guests or higher profits. Later in each park, the process of building new stores was so ingrained that I didn’t ever seriously reconsider my tactics. Now I know that some buildings would go unattended even as guests complained about a lack of a good or service that those buildings supplied because they weren’t placed in areas of high guest activity, near major pathways or exhibits. Simply adding more buildings wasn’t solving the problem. Guests weren’t going to go out of their way to find a hidden restroom tucked behind a power plant; they’d instead wait on the overcrowded, obvious restroom and complain about that. It’s a realistic system, but one that is never explained in the game.

It’s a little embarrassing that it took me this long to figure it out. At the same time, at least I did manage to figure it out on my own!

While I thought this was worth writing about because it showcased a more complex hidden system within Jurassic World: Evolution while providing a hopefully amusing personal anecdote, I’d be glad to hear that someone considering the game, or already struggling with its management systems, found this and saved themselves a lot of time and frustration! And I’d sure love to hear any other tips or tricks people have for providing the best park management experience for all their guests. It took me this long to figure out this basic gameplay component. I shudder to think how long it might take me to learn and master more advanced strategies…