Every mobile device has a camera, and every drone takes detailed pictures of the territory it surveils. We can all take on the role of explorers, photographing what we see around us. We take pristine pictures of the landscape, close up shots of flowers, videos of cats, and drone photos of enemy movements. Surely our knowledge has increased because of the easy accessibility of all this information?

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, reports of cryptids have increased exponentially. Throughout this year, people have reporting sightings, or submitted photos, purportedly showing the existence of one or more of these mysterious creatures.

What are cryptids? They are animals, or human-animal hybrids, whose existence is unproven. The lack of evidence has not stopped people believing in these mythical creatures – much like belief in gods and goddesses. We are all familiar with Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, Yeti, Chupacabra, multiple werewolves, the half- human half-chimpanzee Bili Ape – the list goes on.

We can see the grainy picture of some murky, mysterious creature – our high tech society still likes to engage in rampant speculation about hazy photographs. Certainly Australia has its fair share of cryptids – the bunyip, the Yowie man – and these stories stem from distortions and retellings of indigenous people’s culture. They also undoubtedly help promote tourism to Australia.

The interlinking of humans with other species challenges our taxonomic understanding. When an unidentified creature is discovered, scientists undertake a verification procedure. A type specimen is identified, its features and structure catalogued, models made and morphological analysis performed before any definitive pronouncement can be made.

While keeping an open mind, the best response to the repeated and unverified claims of mythic human-beast creatures is scientific skepticism. It is important to have an open mind, but not so open that our brains fall out. We need to keep a bullshit filter on, to weed out beliefs that are harmful or fictional.

In our age of social media, belief in cryptids has gained in popularity. Television channels airing purported documentaries – finding Bigfoot – help to shape public perceptions. Indeed, the irony is that such publicity helps to humanise these half-beastly creatures, portraying them as just much misunderstood beings – an updated Harry and the Hendesons scenario. Surely these Shreks of the underworld require empathy and understanding, not unending malice?

In the realm of TikTok and hashtags, fascination with the unknown creates a community based on shared beliefs. Cryptid believers get together, share their stories, hold conventions and rail against a stubborn and recalcitrant scientific establishment. Type the terms ‘cryptid fan art’ into your favourite search engine, and you will see millions of results.

To be sure, folklore is the origin of many of these cryptid stories, cultural beliefs that have evolved over the ages. Pagan religions, as distinct from the monotheistic cousins (Judaism, Christianity and Islam) involve multiple interacting gods and mysterious creatures. The line between human and nonhuman was blurred, and thus there arose beings that occupied that borderline space between human and nonhuman animals.

Every nagging fear that we humans seem to have is projected into a cryptid creature to provide bodily form to those fears. The ancient Greeks, being a seafaring people, were aware of the dangers of navigating the open sea. While they were expert navigators, they gave expression to their anxieties about the risks of the open oceans.

The aspidochelone, the giant sea turtle or whale, was alleged to have been so huge it was mistaken for an island. A fabled sea creature, it was said to have drowned and devoured sailors who mistakenly, docked and set up settlements on its gigantic back. In the Greek mythological tradition, it is the functional equivalent of Satan, a fabled creature who deceives those unsuspecting souls it eventually devours.

There are humanoid cryptids that are of more recent origin. Our fascination with life in the depths of the oceans has not abated with marine discoveries. In 2002, Japanese whaling researchers, operating in the icy waters of Antarctica, reported seeing the Ningen, a mysterious half-human half-whale creature.

Antarctic waters are an open field for cryptozoological discoveries. What is interesting about the Ningen is that it was first reported on online message boards. From there, the Ningen took on a life of its own – no pun intended. Japanese whaling constitutes a heatedly debated topic in Australia and other Anglophone nations. The Japanese government, while admitting its whale hunting practices, couches its maritime whaling as scientific research.

Reporting on an as yet unidentified sea creature, especially one with curiously human features, may be a way to deflect the moral outrage at whale hunting, blunting the attacks on Japan from foreign governments. Indeed, as reports of the Ningen were amplified on social media, the creature took on more human forms; a head resting on two walking legs, a kind of Antarctic version of Bigfoot.

It is important to balance curiosity about the wonders of the natural world with a healthy dose of scientific skepticism. Folkloric monsters and cryptids are fascinating as cultural artefacts. They tell us more about how cultures evolve, rather than revealing any mysteries of nature.