I enjoyed this post, very insightful. As a researcher, I would agree that keeping to strict scientific and anthropological standards separates the true cryptozoologists from the plain adventurers.

If I had to recommend any college courses it would most likely be the ones that focus on scientific writing. Understanding a peer reviewed and published scientific article drives one’s research principles to respected quality. Working in a lab or in the field professionally as a scientist can also help. Many mistakes that engineers, technicians, biologists, and journalists make are in proper technique and documentation.

Or a Bachelor’s or even an AA?

Granted, there are no professionals with degrees that say “cryptozoology,” but don’t let that stay your interest. (And remember there are at least a few degreed professionals in zoology and related disciplines (Shuker, van Roosmalen, and a few others) who use the label “cryptozoologist.”)

If you are interested in cryptozoology, I would echo Loren’s advice: read, take relevant courses, engage with others. Do what you love even though the money will likely NOT follow. (I have written two books on cryptozoology that will likely never earn back their research costs, but I’m proud of the quality of my contributions to the field, and that’s quite enough renumeration.)

To branch off on a related topic, I will venture the personal opinion that, if you are going to call yourself a cryptozoologist, you have a moral obligation to the others in the field to take it with some seriousness: that is, to be well-read and to approach it scientifically, with an open mind but not with a credulous, wide-eyed embrace of any and every cryptid tale. When dealing with one’s fellows, and especially if you happen to have dealings with the press, don’t go beyond your limits. I appeared on a TV program on odd bears because I thought I was as well-informed as anyone available on that topic. (It happened that the fellow I recommended as the top expert, Dr. James Halfpenny, was unavailable.) I turned down an appearance I would have enjoyed because I simply was not qualified to analyze the topic they needed help on, which was sasquatch trackways.

I realize the standard I am suggesting is subjective, but I’ll throw it out there anyway to see what others think.

Therefore, do your homework, do your research, get out in the field and do some exploration.

I hate to keep harping on this, but understanding how to do INTELLIGENT RESEARCH is vitally important. For some this may require university training (regardless of the field), others may find it comes naturally. Understanding HOW to research a subject and understanding such things as logical fallacies is vital in presenting a solid, sound, and comprehensive argument.

TOO MANY so called “bigfoot researchers” (for example) couldn’t put together a sensible case if their lives depended on it. They may have what they think is evidence but their conclusions are flawed due to faulty technique. HOWEVER, others are expert thinkers that can convey their findings with a perceptive flow that demands acceptance.

Just putting on camo, a cool vest and hat does not make one a cryptozoologist. Like the field of archeology, as much work has to be done in the lab/library as in the field. In an arena without an official “degree”, acceptance is based on peer review. Once your peers and/or the public consider you an “expert” (or sometimes just more knowledgeable than they are) then you can consider yourself a true/professional cryptozoologist.

Keep in mind my opening sentence, you are still an “amateur” until someone (outside your family) considers your research/work worthy of financial reciprocation.

Just MHO…

Granted I have no degree in anthropology, zoology or biology, but what is stopping me from proclaiming myself a cryptozoologist?

I do have the people giving me skeptical looks, and rolling their eyes at me. I love finding out about new species, and sharing that with others, much to my co-workers dismay. So maybe I could be a 45 yr old cryptozoologist-in-training?

And if I lived in Maine, I would totally jump on that offer to volunteer to catalog all the things others consider mundane. Because you never know what little thing that seems unimportant, may break a case wide open.