Ask an Anthropologist About Worldbuilding: Hearth and Home ft. Stant Litore

This week I sat down with Stant Litore, author of Write Worlds Your Readers Won’t Forget, The Zombie Bible, Ansible: A Thousand Faces, and the inspiration behind the Emmy-nominated Love Death and Robots episode Running with the Tyrannosaur, for a conversation about the anthropology of hearth, home, and belonging in worldbuilding.

Stant opens with his Bones to Pick about what speculative fiction consistently gets wrong about domestic life and culture, and from there we go deep. We talk about why every home in fiction answers two fundamental questions: what does it shelter, and what does it shelter from? We explore solastalgia, the grief not for a home you left but for a home that no longer exists, how ancient Roman domestic space reveals class, power, and vulnerability, and what Keith Basso’s Wisdom Sits in Places means for writers who want their worlds to feel truly inhabited.

We also get into why character wounds and the loss of home are the engine of the best plot choices, and Stant closes with one of the most practical worldbuilding frameworks I have heard articulated in a single conversation.

You can watch the full episode below.

If you found this useful, subscribe to the Loridian’s Laboratory Substack for more conversations at the intersection of anthropology, worldbuilding, and speculative fiction. And if you are building fictional worlds of your own, check out Build Better Worlds, the worldbuilding textbook I co-authored with Kyra Wellstrom.

And, if you have questions about forensics, bodies, and biology, Kyra will be joining me this coming Thursday, March 26th at 7pm for another Livestream Q&A Session. You can put your questions in the chat in advance, or ask them live at this link.

How Worldbuilding Became My Pedagogy after I wrote “17 Things I Have Learned Teaching Anthropology and Cultural Diversity.”

One of my most difficult days teaching college anthropology happened in the spring of 2017. We were discussing political systems. Tensions were high. Two students, one liberal, one conservative, stood up and started screaming at one another in the middle of class. I had to take both outside, separate them, and deescalate. Classrooms were growing increasingly contentious, a reflection of the escalating political climate of the United States.

In the fall of 2019 I wrote the article, 17 Things I Have Learned Teaching Anthropology and Cultural Diversity. If you haven’t stumbled on it before, it’s about insights I gained in my early days of lecturing. In this difficult political climate, I knew that these conversations about diversity and culture were more important than ever. So, after that shouting match in 2017, I began experimenting with different methods to teach anthropology and diversity.

As I was writing that article in 2019, I discussed how contentious the classroom had become with my soon to be co-author, Kyra Wellstrom. Both of us had been teaching anthropology for more than five years at that point, and had seen firsthand the changes in our classrooms with each passing semester.

Rethinking Worldbuilding

It wasn’t just the classrooms Kyra and I discussed. Both of us were frustrated with the inaccurate worldbuilding in fiction, films, and games. There were two books contributing to this problem, Sapiens and Guns, Germs, and Steel. Anthropologists have debunked both books, though they remain popular. Both sell an overly simplistic narrative about culture and history that doesn’t hold up to any real scrutiny.

Why did we care so much? Well, what we imagine matters. If your culture is constantly creating stories based on inaccurate information and stereotypes, that becomes part of the public consciousness. So, bad worldbuilding can actually reinforce biases and in some cases, bigotry. On the other end of the spectrum, good worldbuilding can help people have greater empathy, source possible solutions to real-world problems, and deconstruct stereotypes. Fictional settings are ideal for playing with ideas, especially if you’re a creative.

So, that fall, as I was writing the 17 things article, Kyra and I decided to write a book on how to use anthropology to worldbuild. That book, of course, became Build Better Worlds: An Introduction to Anthropology for Game Designers, Fiction Writers, and Filmmakers.

As we began writing the book, we realized we could potentially help solve two problems at the same time. By writing an accessible text on anthropology for worldbuilding, we could help people write more accurate and immersive fiction. We also realized that we could use the book in our classrooms to approach contentious topics from a different direction.

Each of us took the model and experimented with it in different ways.

I tried several experiments in my classroom. The first was to have individuals build their own worlds. And while students seemed to enjoy this approach, it did nothing to address the tension in this classroom. If anything, students doubled down on their opinions. I quickly realized that having individual students do their own projects, isolated them from others. Unfortunately this further entrenched them in their own worldviews which was the opposite of my goal. It’s easy to become myopic when you’re in your own head.

What Changed Everything

After two semesters and some student surveys, I took a different approach. This time I tried group worldbuilding.

It changed everything.

Each student was assigned to a group of 3-5 people, and through three key projects throughout the term, they built fictional worlds together. Their final assignment was to present their fictional world creatively to teach the entire class. I encouraged them to use their own backgrounds, knowledge, and skills in their projects.

There were so many brilliant final projects. Some did plays (in full costumes), created videos, and built tabletop or board games. We had mock news reports and political campaigns, hilarious tourism brochures, original music, languages, recipes and so much more. Finals week became a space of play instead of stress.

While, no model is perfect, and there are some students who hate group work, it completely changed the conversations in class. Since I began the worldbuilding approach, I’ve never had another shouting match in my classroom. Instead, more students showed up to class ready to discuss. They understood that our in-class content and conversations helped them improve their fictional worlds. Instead of viewing a classmate with a different opinion as a challenge, suddenly their differences were fuel for building a more nuanced and holistic fictional world.

In these projects, they were practicing compromise and gaining experience finding common ground to work toward a mutual goal. They were rehearsing democracy, a skill we must always practice if we are to keep it.

But it wasn’t always easy. That’s kind of the point. Some groups had problems working together. One group project was derailed by a the collapse of a romantic relationship, and I had to work with the students to find a way to resolve things. Sometimes things didn’t get resolved, and a student dropped the class. Classrooms shouldn’t be uniform and tidy things. If they were, how could anyone learn? This whole human thing we do is complicated. That’s what anthropology is all about: trying to understand the complexity of the human experience.

Moving Beyond the Classroom

The success of this approach led to my 2021 Ted Talk, Anthropology, Our Imagination, and Understanding Difference. Then, after presenting at the Society for Applied Anthropology annual conference in 2022, I had several inquiries to write an academic article on the subject. Ultimately, I wrote a book chapter for an academic book detailing my model. The chapter was titled: Worldbuilding as Pedagogy: Teaching Anthropology and Diversity in Contentious Classrooms. That chapter came out in the summer of 2025.

The last 12 years, since I first began teaching, I’ve learned as much, if not more, than in all my coursework and field research in graduate school.

Watching our country lean more and more toward authoritarianism and away from democracy in the last decade, it’s been my classroom that’s given me hope. Because I saw firsthand that how you approach these contentious issues is almost as important as the topic itself. I’ve learned that no matter how difficult the discussion is, there is a way to get most people to learn to see humanity in one another.

If I were to add anything to my old 17 Things article, it would be this: You cannot find meaning out in the world, you have to create it. Sure, you can always let other people create meaning for you, but if you do that, you’ll be stuck in a life that’s not your own. If we want to build a better world for our descendants, if we want to be good ancestors to future generations, then we have to create meaning together to build a better world.


Are you experimenting with worldbuilding, pedagogy, or collaborative learning in your own work? I’m always interested in learning about different approaches or helping others to actualize theirs. Feel free to reach out with your thoughts or questions. I also occasionally host worldbuilding Q&A sessions over on YouTube for creatives.

Worldbuilding Part 7: Schismogenesis, Taboo, and Identity

How do we create identities? How do we decide what kinds of things are taboo in society? How do we know what is clean or dirty? Have you ever thought about the fact that sometimes, we reinforce our choices and values through rebellion and/or opposition?

It might be obvious why some things are taboo, or at least there is some sense of rationalism surrounding those ideas. It’s taboo to eat out of the garbage, since the likelihood you will get sick is high and that’s where we put the things we wish to discard. But why are there taboos surrounding colors of clothing or beards, or types of clothing or lack of clothing? Is there a rational reason a man can’t wear a bright pink bikini on a hot summer day in American society? Why does this make us uncomfortable? Is there a reason that it’s not considered manly? Keep in mind, by reason, I mean an objective scientific one. Don’t worry, you’re not going to find a picture of me in a bright pink bikini below, I promise. But when you’re building a fictional world, understanding why a society formulates taboos and norms can be really useful.

In this entry on worldbuilding, we are going to examine a way to think about how people form their identities and cultures using the concept of schismogenesis.

(Note: You can find the earlier entries on worldbuilding, including podcasts and a Ted Talk here)

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What is Schismogenesis?

Coined by Anthropologist Gregory Bateson in the 1930s, the term schismogenesis means essentially creation through division. By looking at your identity and behavior, I acknowledge how we are different, and thus solidify who I am. This often manifests as opposition. The most obvious form of schismogenesis is the rebellion of teenagers, who form their identity based on challenging acceptable behavior. Through opposition, they create identity. But this isn’t just a teenager thing, cultures and people do this all the time. It’s why suppressing differences, can actually make them stronger. The identity becomes more legitimate, more solid, because you fight against it.

Let’s return to bikinis.

I (apparently) am the kind of man who wears a bright pink bikini in public, and you, (assuming you’re a male in this example and of the status quo in American society) do not. Thus, I am behaving inappropriately in society, and you are not. You, will try to get me to conform. You will probably mock me for my strange behavior. You may seek to make me feel ashamed of wearing my bright pink bikini out in public. I will do one of two things. Either, I will capitulate, and take off my bikini and switch to the culturally acceptable norm of swimming trunks, or I will continue my rebellion and seek to recruit others who think like me. Thus, I will form my identity through opposition.

These kinds of things happen every moment of every day across every culture. Power and resistance are constantly in play on every level. Think of all the debates going on right now in your culture about what people should and should not do. There are hundreds of topics to choose from.

Let’s look at a more serious example. Take the pork taboo. Lots of people speculate why both Jews and Muslims have a pork taboo. People have puzzled over this idea for centuries. This isn’t just limited to Jews or Muslims either. Why do some cultures say that certain foods are clean, and others are dirty? There are entire lists of foods that people eat in one location in the world, but gag just thinking about them in another.

(Note: If you want to read a whole book on this topic and you are an anthropology nerd, consider Mary Douglas’s award winning 1966 book Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo)

But why pork? Well, if you ask a Jew or a Muslim, the answer you’ll likely get is that pigs are filthy animals. They are living garbage disposals and love to live in their own shit and piss and eat whatever you put in front of them. Why, they ask, would you eat such a creature as this?

The reality though, is that pigs are not like this out in the wild. In fact, when I was doing research in a rural village in Mexico in the northern state of Nueve Leon back in 2008, the pigs they had in those villages were far from disgusting or dirty. They grazed in fields alongside the other animals and ate similar things. They didn’t live in mud, they lived alongside all the other animals. So the filthy ‘nature’ of the pig that is the central complaint of the taboo is something artificially created by human action, not nature. Often cultures and people will come up with logical explanations for their taboos to justify their practices.

That doesn’t mean we should disrespect our Jewish or Muslim friends by forcing pork on them. Every culture has things it forbids that defy rationality or reason. We all have superstitions and traditions that aren’t based on evidence. The point here is not to judge, but to understand how this works to better assist you in building fictional worlds.

One possible explanation for the pork taboo is schismogenesis. In the ancient world, there was a period for the Jewish people known as the Babylonian Captivity or the Babylonian Exile. Many Jews were forced to live under the control of the Babylonian empire after the Babylonians conquered the Kingdom of Judah beginning first around 598 BCE. The Babylonians captured and enslaved many of the Jewish people.

There were two large staples of the Babylonian diet that both became taboo under the Kashrut, the dietary restrictions of the Jewish people. The first was pork, and the second was horse. Both foods were common in Babylon at the time. The enslaved Jews did not consume this food previously. Thus, as their enslavement continued, they ate foods similar to that of their homeland, and not of those who enslaved them. This certainly contributed in at least some way to the prohibition, though it may not have been the only cause.

But here we see, at least in part, schismogenesis in action. The Jews, under the yoke of an oppressor, didn’t want to partake in the food of those who had enslaved them, hence, their identity surrounding their food taboo. Several generations lived under these conditions, then, when the Persians conquered the Babylonians and allowed Jews to return to Palestine, many of those ideas circulated into the wider culture. Food is common as an important identity marker in many cultures, this is especially true in populations that have been historically oppressed.

Now again, there are many debates on the pork taboo, and this is only one possible explanation. In fact, most cultural taboos and restrictions can come from several causes at once. But, schismogenesis is useful because it helps clear up confusion in a culture. If the enemy other is doing something, and you don’t want to be like the enemy, then you can avoid doing that thing. This solidifies who you are as a culture and with it, identity. In our case, it helps create more complex fictional characters.

Here are few things to consider if you want to employ the concept of schismogenesis in your fictional world.

1.    What are the core values of each of the fictional cultures you are building?

If you’re setting up a world where multiple major cultures will fight for control, then the first place to begin is where their core values lie.

–        What kinds of things are important to your culture?

–        What taboos do they have?

–        What things to they exaggerate or emphasize about their adversaries?

–        What qualities do they wish to cultivate in individuals on an ideal level?

–        What does their mythology say about core values (refer to Worldbuilding Part 4 – Six Things to Think about When Construction Myth in Fiction if you need help with this)?

If you take these things and sketch out what each culture is doing in these worlds, you will have a good place to see potential conflict between the different ideas of morality and/or taboo in the cultures.

This is especially true if you have a culture that has been conquered by another. Acts of rebellion don’t end at violence or protest. They can manifest in everyday experiences. In fact, when you stress a culture out, there is always a core group of people who will try to preserve important elements of their culture, hence, the rise of fundamentalists. They want to go back to the way things were before the changes came. It doesn’t matter that you can never truly return to the way things were, people want that old sense of safety and security of their cultural norms.

This is why we see groups like the Amish, whose very existence is in opposition to the changes wrought by modern technology. I grew up in part on the east coast, and not far outside of Philadelphia, it was common to see the Amish on the road in their horse and buggy, slowing down traffic. The way they choose to live is a form of schismogenesis. It might not feel subversive to us to live in that way, but to them, it is.

Which brings me to another point. Cultures aren’t homogeneous. There are all kinds of diverse approaches and ways to live within cultures. Be sure to consider that as you highlight the values and taboos of the larger culture above. You will want some wiggle room for resistance, for factionalism, even as larger conflicts between nations are happening. People disagree on pretty much everything, and sometimes that disagreement is a huge part of their identity.

2.    The minor differences matter

Yes, your cultures will argue over the big stuff. But the minor differences matter too. Every culture has a different protocol for body language, for dress, for the kinds of sounds and colors they like and dislike, and so on. Every little thing you do comes from making comparisons against others. While we focus on the things we like and enjoy, we often spend even more time on the things we don’t like or find disgusting as ways of acknowledging who we are.

Small things like how a culture eats can mark identity. Much of Europe didn’t adopt forks until the 17th or 18th century (depending on what region) because they were considered either unmanly or excessive. Just imagine, someone, at some point, was complaining about how feminine it was to use a fork. Yes, that really happened. Someone else decided to use a fork anyway, probably a teenager.

Even generations within cultures employ schismogenesis. Think about what different generations say about each other. I’m a millennial and hear constant complaints from older generations about us. I’m almost forty now, so obviously millennials aren’t that young anymore. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of complaints among my fellow millennials about Zoomers already. We make constant comparisons about all the little things we do differently.

You don’t have to pick big things for schismogenesis, in fact, sometimes a lot of little things add up to create stark differences. Remember, as I’ve said repeatedly in these entries, and in my book Build Better Worlds, culture is a performance. It’s a way of enacting practices to mark who you are and what you value. That isn’t just the big stuff, it’s all the little things too.

3.    Living within a cultural script

Every culture has a kind of script, a set of rules to live by that are both formal (laws) or informal (norms). Some cultures (like our own) make the concepts of choice and freedom paramount to their core values. But if you step outside the bounds of their norms, there are still all kinds of ways you can be disenfranchised. Think of the debates surrounding the right way to be a man in our own society. Forks and pink bikinis aside, these discussions aren’t about objective truth.

In fact, the irony of this discussion is that if choice and freedom were truly at the center of the debate, there wouldn’t be arguments about what makes a “real man”. Men would just go out and do whatever they wanted and that would be manly. These same scripts that proscribe masculinity limit agency (freedom of movement within a culture). There’s no freedom by living up to the expectations of a cultural script, but there is a sense of unity, an imagined comradery. (Note: See Benedict Anderson’s 1990 book Imagined Communities for the Anthropology Nerds out there) Though we may never meet most other Americans, there are certain behaviors and identity markers that are expected to establish a sense of unity across the culture.

This isn’t about good or bad, this is what cultures do. How a culture maintains itself, or how it changes, is an endless conversation taking form in every arena of every culture. These masculine norms aren’t about freedom, it is about expectations, about clearing up confusion to make identifying what is male and what is female in clear terms. Humans in general like things simple. Unfortunately, very little about humans is simple. We might idealize certain behaviors or how many genders we think we are, but of course, certain behaviors that are beneficial and unifying to one group will naturally be oppressive and divisive for another. This is exactly why, opposition can be a core part of identity.

With all that in mind, take a moment to consider, what kind of cultural scripts are used in your fictional world. There are certainly trends among humans. Male domination, though not universal, is common in the modern world. There are still matriarchies out there, but they are few and far between because of the larger patterns of empire and conquest.

A few things to consider with cultural scripts:

–        Remember Cognitive Maps (from the last post on worldbuilding) and how biological differences, magic systems, or superpowers will necessitate different brains and thus, different cultures.

–        Different political systems, like the matriarchy mentioned above, would have different scripts

–        Different economic systems, like a gift economy, or a system that uses potlatching, would have different scripts about what wealth and power look like

–        Different religions, for example, one without deities, are going to focus on different scripts.

–        Remember that culture is holistic, that every part of culture connects into every other part of culture, the scripts about behavior and identity will mirror all these elements put together

4.   Enforcing identity and Solidifying Resistance

In order for a cultural script to be useful, it has to be enforced. In some societies, there are laws about how people dress. They enforce what activities different groups can participate in, how they should appear in public, and so on. In addition to these formal laws, or in a situation where there isn’t written law, rumors and gossip act as a kind of social surveillance to enforce expected behavior. Gossip is likely the oldest form of surveillance and uses shame and guilt as a weapon against anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into cultural scripts. If that sounds like high school, you’re not wrong. Humans have been doing this to each other since we were… well, humans.

Remember, these scripts are also created in part because a culture doesn’t want to behave like the other. They want to mark themselves as distinct and different. They don’t want to engage in the behaviors of the enemy other, dress like the enemy, eat like the enemy, or even talk like the enemy. Groups that are focused on differences will often advocate for exclusionary rules or policies that limit the kinds of diversity possible. They will shame and embarrass those who don’t fit in the mold. Often, they have a fear that this other, this adversary, will creep in and take their culture away from them by changing things or forcing them to change.

We even do this on a large scale. The 1978 book, Orientalism, by Edwards Said, highlights the perceptions of Europe and its false dichotomy of the Eastern world vs Western world. The book is an attempt to critique our stereotypes of the Eastern world, and how empire, colonialism, and bias played a role in our understanding of world history and cultural analysis.

According to Said, men of the Orient were portrayed as culturally backward, physically weak, and feminine. This reinforced the ideas of Western masculinity. Of course, perceptions of the men of the Orient were just stereotypes. And nothing robs people of their freedom quite like a stereotype.  Raj from The Big Bang Theory, and Fez from That 70s Show, are stereotypical examples of Orientalism in action. Both the characters struggle to understand Western culture and are awkward. Both characters spend a lot more time with the women of the group and struggle to relate to the men in the same way. Both characters are mocked for their physical weakness.

Cultures will often create assumed cultural scripts for their enemy. We know these scripts as stereotypes. We expect the enemy to fit only within these boxes, and are often surprised when they don’t. This is not a product of only one culture, all cultures do this. We use our norms and rules to compare ourselves to the cultures we don’t like because they are a direct enemy, or because we consider them less civilized. But it works in a paternal dimension too. Paternalism in this case is the notion that we are more rational or advanced and must help civilize the “savage”.

What are the benefits of using Schismogenesis in fiction?

Employing schismogenesis creates all kinds of fertile ground for storytelling. There will be characters who highlight the differences between each group and hold conservative views about the way things have always been. There will be characters who think that some of these arbitrary things are well… arbitrary. They will accuse the conservatives of living in the past and highlight the ways that the past was ugly. These are the progressives of your society. They often advocate against these kinds of differences. However, they will also employ schismogenesis against those who they disagree with too, often the conservatives of their culture.

Just because you are liberal or progressive doesn’t mean you’re free of bias. No one is free of bias and oversimplistic thinking. We all generalize the people we disagree with. I catch myself doing it all the time. After all, it’s much easier to disagree with someone if you take away the nuance and complexity of their argument and create strawmen that are easy to knock down. We all have things we are bias about and we even know that some of them are arbitrary. Your characters absolutely should too.

There’s a third group in a mix, the ones who stand in the middle. These bicultural individuals (they can certainly have more than two cultural backgrounds) don’t have a specific set of rules or scripts to follow for their identity or they have more than one. Individuals like this are born in the middle of multiple scripts, being forced to discern how to move through the world. They could be mixed ethnicities and thus get culture from each parent, or perhaps they are an immigrant or refugee born in one culture, but now living in another. Every person who stands in the middle will take unique positions on different aspects of their identity and culture. Immigrants should be just as diverse and complex in their approach to the world as characters who are monocultural. Some immigrants may take on the dominant norms as an act of rebellion to their parents. Others may take on the traditions of their homeland to resist assimilation. Schismogenesis in the real world creates all kinds of diverse identities and experiences and in fiction, richer characters, backstories, and worldbuilding.

Consider:

–        How do your characters compare themselves to other cultures and individuals?

–        Why do they make that comparison? Are they jealous? Are they fascinated? Is the grass greener? Is the other more barbaric?

–        Do they see some good things and some bad things about the other?

–        What generation are they a part of? Are there changes in technology for that culture or maybe some new cultural practice or experience has arrived?

–        Has contact with another culture happened recently?

–        Has there been a change in the political or economic structure?

Some Final Thoughts

Norms change. We don’t consider forks unmanly anymore. Though I guess the jury is still out on men in pink bikinis. Every generation gains new ideas, and loses some old ones. Maybe in the era of social media things are changing faster than before, but we need a much longer view, in terms of decades, to really understand what social media is doing to us. Sometimes, changes that appear bad in the beginning create really interesting changes in the long term.  

In building your world you could start out with one group of norms and rules for a society and then change the power dynamics of the situation to suddenly force those norms out. Brandon Sanderson does this masterfully in the Stormlight archives. At the beginning of the series, having light-colored eyes automatically means you are a person of rank and privilege. Being a poor light eyes is far better than being a wealthy dark eyes. Light eyes or dark, both groups have their own internal hierarchies as well. But, as the series goes on, and the return of old magic changes the colors of some people’s eyes, the power dynamic of eye color changes, and many of the characters are forced to confront the arbitrary nature of the light eye, dark eye, dichotomy, each in their own way.

The best stories are ones that show truth. The truth about most of what we do as humans is that it’s arbitrary. We have certain standards and taboos that do serve purposes. Some help protect people from harm in both short-term and long-term situations. Eating garbage or marrying your sibling are not wise moves and thus those taboos are useful.

However, many things we hold as important are really just cultural preferences. Loving your culture isn’t wrong. It’s just that these things don’t have any root in objective truth. That doesn’t mean that they don’t have value. There are many beautiful traditions the world over that some consider strange, while others find unity and comfort in them.

It’s all complicated. Wonderfully complicated. I think too often we look at complexity and throw up our arms and say, it’s too much effort to understand. But I think it’s better to be curious. But then, that is why I became an Anthropologist.

Writing honestly means to look at the world and understanding it for what it is. The world you create in fiction, is a reflection of who you are. Sometimes that means to create the best worlds, we have to step outside of what’s comfortable or easy. Good worldbuilding means you need to understand the cultures you’re creating. You need to hold what they see as sacred in your mind. Immerse yourself in their worlds. Live through your characters and embrace the wonderful complexity of the world you’re creating. Maybe try a little schismogenesis on for size.

After all, what’s more fun than being a creator?

Happy Worldbuilding!

P.S. I lied about the picture of me in a bikini…  

This is the most recent entry in the Worldbuilding series. Go back to Worldbuilding Part 6: Cognitive Maps, Magic, and Super Powers or browse the full Worldbuilding archive for all seven entries. For a comprehensive guide to anthropological worldbuilding check out Build Better Worlds. And if you want hands-on help applying these ideas to your specific project, I offer worldbuilding consultations – the first 15 minutes are free.

Why Your Narrative Design Team Needs An Anthropologist or at Least Some Anthropology

Why Your Narrative Design Team Needs an Anthropologist

By Michael Kilman, M.S. Applied Anthropology


I’m an avid gamer and science fiction author. I’m also an anthropologist with over a decade of teaching, fieldwork, and consulting experience. So for me, worldbuilding is everything. A bad worldbuild kills my immersion immediately. And as audiences grow more sophisticated, I hear this more and more from gamers, readers, and filmmakers too.

Which raises a question: why do so many fictional worlds still feel hollow?

Part of the answer is that most narrative design teams are missing a specific skill set, someone trained to see culture as a living, integrated system. Characters across games aren’t just copies of western identity, there are distinct ways of knowing the world that don’t always translate easily across culture. That’s missing skill set is anthropology.

Below are six reasons why bringing anthropological thinking into your narrative design process can transform the worlds you build.


1. Holism: Everything Is Connected

One of anthropology’s foundational concepts is holism. It’s the idea that culture is an integrated system. If you change one facet of culture, you change everything. Think of chaos theory’s butterfly effect: small shifts ripple outward in unexpected ways.

Applied to worldbuilding, this means your fictional economic system, your family structures, your political arrangements, your religion, your ethnic identities, your people’s relationship to death, their biology, their environment, all of these are deeply interrelated. They shape systems of power, freedom, and oppression. When you’re building a fictional world, a holistic framework helps you understand how those relationships create meaning, consequence, and true complexity.

Anthropologists are trained to hold this complexity. We work at the intersection of biology, environment, social structure, language, and culture. This big-picture thinking is exactly what most narrative design processes are missing.


2. More Immersive and Realistic Cause-and-Effect

Creating a believable fictional world means thinking carefully about the causes and consequences of every major action. This isn’t just true for individual characters, but the culture as a whole. The most compelling games and narratives are often the ones that let player choices ripple outward in culturally coherent ways.

Imagine if your protagonist made an alliance early in a game with a faction. This alliance created real, culture-wide changes throughout the narrative.  This isn’t just a change in character relationships, I’m talking about changing the religion, economics, political system, or maybe even language of your world later in the game. That’s where anthropology comes in. Anthropologists have more than a century of research on how cultural change actually works and how it manifests across cultures and generations.

When I’ve consulted on these kinds of questions, including with a major tech firm on post-pandemic cultural shifts, we’ve drawn on real historical examples. The 1918 flu pandemic, for instance, fundamentally shifted American standards of beauty. It made sunbathing fashionable, and altered building architecture toward open spaces and natural light. That’s the kind of layered, counterintuitive thinking that makes fictional worlds feel real.


3. Anthropologists Are Intercultural Communicators

Our job isn’t just to study cultures, it’s to help different cultures and subcultures understand one another. We are a kind of intercultural mediator. That’s why tech companies hire UX and Design Anthropologists, and why I’ve worked with clients ranging from Native American tribal governments to Samsung UK on cross-cultural research questions.

Intercultural communication is a fundamental part of narrative design. If your world has diverse factions, ethnic groups, or political coalitions, an anthropologist can help you think through how those groups would actually perceive and misread each other. In fieldwork you learn quickly that even the most positive, and well intentioned changes you might make to a community meets resistance. That’s because, no matter how benevolent the change, someone will always lose and in ways you may never expect. Building that friction into your narrative design is what makes a world feel inhabited rather than constructed.


4. Diversity Is a Craft Skill, Not Just a Political Position

There’s a lot of conversation right now about representation and diversity in games and media. Culture wars are near constant in the social media sphere. But here’s the thing, lack of diversity isn’t just ethically problematic, it’s bad storytelling. The world is complex. Fictional worlds that flatten that complexity feel wooden and vacant.

The challenge is that writing cultures unfamiliar to you requires more than good intentions. True inclusion requires research, consultation, and ideally collaboration. Anthropologists can help mediate that process. We’re trained to identify the blind spots in our own cultural assumptions.

Have you ever considered what you think of specific accents? Why do you think that? Where do your opinions on different kinds of accents come from? These biases don’t just come from personal experiences, they’re formed over time, and through history and conflict. 

Anthropologists have also spent decades thinking about analogs and representations. If your fictional culture is standing in for a real one, you need to know what you’re doing. An anthropologist who has worked directly with those communities are ideal, they can help you navigate your own assumptions and open up your fictional world in a way you never considered before, a way that makes your story vastly more interesting and immersive.


5. The World Is Full of Untapped Source Material

Every culture is a dreamscape, a world made through symbols and imagination. One of the biggest missed opportunities in speculative fiction is that it only draws on a tiny sliver of possibility. The same alien invasion stories, the same European medieval settings, the same recycled mythologies, and gods, and political archetypes, and economic systems appear over and over. To be fair, it’s not that these traditions aren’t rich and wonderful on their own, it’s just that they’ve become predictable and stale, a singular worldview that no longer makes us question our own thinking with wonder. They just don’t stand out anymore.  

The world contains thousands of distinct cultural traditions, belief systems, governance structures, and cosmologies that most Western narrative designers have never even thought about. I made this exact argument in my TEDx talk, because, what we imagine matters.

Consider the game Never Alone (Kisima Inŋitchuŋa), made by and for Iñupiaq people, featuring the indigenous language and unlockable interviews with Iñupiaq elders. That game didn’t just tell a unique story, it expanded the possibilities of what games can do. It’s beautiful, and complex, and driven by the culture it comes from. There’s nothing else out there quite like it. It stands out because it offers another way of knowing/being in the world.


6. Anthropology Is a Toolkit, Not Just a Perspective

Everything I’ve described above isn’t abstract, it’s practical and in the era of AI, more necessary than ever. AI is capable of generating an incredible amount of mediocre and predicable media. Anthropology is an edge in worldbuilding and storytelling. It gives you concrete tools: frameworks for analyzing kinship and power, models for understanding how religion and economics interact, methods for identifying the cultural logic behind social norms that seem arbitrary.

My colleague Kyra Wellstrom and I built some of those tools into a book titled: Build Better Worlds: An Introduction to Anthropology for Game Designers, Fiction Writers, and Filmmakers. It distills over a century of anthropological research into an accessible guide that doesn’t require wading through academic textbooks.

On my YouTube channel I also host live Worldbuilding Q&As every month called, “Ask an Anthropologist.” I also bring on special guests. There you can also find my social science explainer series, Anthropology in 10 or Less, and soon my new series launching this spring, Anthropology Through Science Fiction. I’ve been translating these same ideas into free, accessible content for creators. And in my worldbuilding consulting practice, I bring this toolkit directly to projects.


Ready to Build a Better World?

I’ve spent 11 years teaching anthropology at the university level, published research on how worldbuilding works as a pedagogical tool, and consulted for clients ranging from indie fiction writers to major tech firms. My fiction, including the dystopian sci-fi Chronicles of the Great Migration series and my dark fantasy novel Shades & Shapes in the Dark are built on the same anthropological foundations I’m describing here.

If you or your team is serious about creating fictional cultures that feel authentic and immersive, I’d love to talk.

Book a free 10-minute consulting call →

Or explore free worldbuilding resources, essays, and video content at loridianslaboratory.com.


Michael Kilman holds an M.S. in Applied Anthropology (focus: Media) from Portland State University. He is the author of the Chronicles of the Great Migration series, Shades & Shapes in the Dark, and Build Better Worlds. He is also known for his TEDx talk “Anthropology, Our Imagination, and How to Understand Difference.”

Guest Spot on Beyond the Pen Podcast

Yesterday I went on the Beyond the Pen Podcast to talk about my co-written book Build Better Worlds: An Introduction to Anthropology for Game Designers, Fiction Writers and Filmmakers. I had fun talking to the two wonderful and dynamic hosts about our worldbuilding model, Orcs, and a little about my own writing process.