The empirical evidence for exploration underlying the appeal of imaginary worlds is mostly absent or contradictory. Openness, and the cognitive exploration it represents, provides a better account than the overall drive to explore predicted by evolutionary theory. Furthermore, exploration cannot explain why imaginary worlds foster frequent re-engagement.

As the physical world becomes tamed and mapped out, opportunities to experience the unknown become rarer; imaginary worlds provide a much-needed sense of potentiality. Potentiality is central to the Self-Other Re-organization theory of cultural evolution, which postulates that creativity fuels cumulative cultural change. We point to evidence that fear affects, not the magnitude of exploration, but how cautiously it proceeds.

We argue that imaginary worlds gain much of their appeal because they fulfill the fundamental need of human beings to feel connected to other humans. Immersion into story worlds provides a sense of social connection to the characters and groups represented in the world. By fulfilling the need to belong, imaginary worlds provide a buffer against rejection and loneliness.

Awe arises when one experiences something so extraordinary that it defies current understanding, prompting efforts to comprehend the initially incomprehensible. We situate awe within Dubourg and Baumard's framework for the prevalence and psychological underpinnings of imaginary worlds. We argue that imaginary worlds are powerful catalysts of awe, which, in turn, drive important individual and social outcomes.

The authors explain our attraction to strange, literary places as resulting from our attraction to strange places in real life. I believe this is correct and important. The aim of the following commentary is to show that their main conclusion is closely related to – even (retrospectively) predictable from – the operation of simulation and the consequences of that operation for storytelling.

Dubourg and Baumard explain why fictional worlds are attractive to consumers. A complete account of fictional worlds, however, should also explain why some people create them. Creation is a costly and time-consuming process that does not resemble exploration but does resemble the culturally universal phenomenon of knowledge specialization.

We assume “Imaginary worlds” to be unreal and unfamiliar: high fantasy. I argue they are real and familiar to authors because they comprise memory elements, which blend experience, knowledge, beliefs and pre-occupations. These “bits and pieces” from memories can generate a world, which readers experience as pure imagination. I illustrate using J.M. Barrie's “Never Land” and J.R.R. Tolkien's “Middle-Earth.”

Characterizing the cultural evolution of imaginary worlds as a hedonic but non-adaptive exaptation from evolved exploratory tendencies, Dubourg and Baumard defend too narrow a conception of the adaptive evolution of imaginary worlds. Imagination and its imaginary worlds are ancient and adaptive, allowing deliberation over actions, consequences, and futures worth aspiring to, often engendering the world we see around us.

Human engagement with imaginary worlds pervades history (e.g., Paleolithic cave paintings) and development (e.g., 18-month-olds pretend). In providing a safe environment, separate from the real world, fiction offers the opportunity for simulated exploration regardless of external circumstances. Thus, engagement with imaginary worlds in fiction may afford individuals opportunities to reap benefits and transfer these benefits back to the real world.

While Dubourg and Baumard argue that predisposition toward exploration draws us to fictional environments, they fail to answer their titular question: “Why Imaginary Worlds?” Research in pretend play, psychological distancing, and theatre shows that being “imaginary” (i.e., any type of unreal, rather than only fantastically unreal) makes exploration of any fictional world profoundly different than that of real-life unfamiliar environments.

We address Dubourg and Baumard's claim that imaginary worlds are most appealing early in the lifespan when the exploratory drive is highest. Preschool-age children prefer fictions set in the real world, and fantastical information can be difficult for children to represent in real time. We speculate that a drive to explore imaginary worlds may emerge after children acquire substantial real-world skills and knowledge. An account of age effects on fictional preferences should encompass developmental change.

Fiction involves exploring imaginative arrangements of places and characters: elements that can be recognized by readers. In childhood, exploration occurs from a safe home base of a caregiver; fiction enables a comparable basis. Physical elements in fiction are settings. More important are social explorations: transactions with characters that can include transformation. This is illustrated by Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

We support the idea of applying cultural evolution theory to the study of storytelling, and fiction in particular. However, we suggest that a more plausible link between real and imaginary worlds is the feeling of “presence” we can experience in both of them: we feel present when we are able to correctly and intuitively enact our embodied predictions.

Dubourg and Baurmard ask why people consume fiction with imaginary worlds. We extend this inquiry to ask why people engage in creating imaginary worlds. In Fanfiction, the writing of fiction by fans involves both an immersive creative experience and a very interactive community that may explain the high (social) engagement of people with Fanfiction.

The target article is focused on locating the popularity of imaginary worlds in our adaptations for exploration. This commentary touches on developmental influences, vicarious enjoyment, the challenging of societal mores, plot, and whether men and women are drawn to the same features in the same ways.

Imaginary worlds recur across hunter-gatherer narrative, suggesting that they are an ancient part of human life: to understand their popularity, we must examine their origins. Hunter-gatherer fictional narratives use various devices to encode factual information. Thus, participation in these invented worlds, born of our evolved ability to engage in pretense, may provide adaptations with information inputs that scaffold their development.

In addition to satisfying a predisposition for exploration, fiction with imaginary worlds may also appeal to morbid curiosity, an adaptive motivation to seek out information about dangerous situations. Most imaginary worlds contain narrative elements of danger, and immersion in such worlds may provide people with information that would be costly to acquire in the real world.

Imaginary worlds may satisfy our need to explore, but it's an open question what we are searching for. Research on imagination suggests that if we are searching for something extraordinary – something that violates our intuitions about real-world causality – then we seek it in small doses and in contexts that ultimately confirm our intuitions. Imaginary worlds allow for true novelty, but we may actually prefer ideas that are novel on their surface but familiar at their core.

Aphantasia is a heterogeneous neuropsychological syndrome consisting of the inability to create mental images. We argue that its progressive form may be a harbinger of dementia. Aphantasia may manifest as the inability to create any mental images or to create complex scenes, inability to spontaneously initiate generation of mental images, and/or inability to visualize a sequence of events.

Explaining the reasons behind the success of various kinds of fiction is important, but how granular should our explanations be? I suggest that using a less granular, more general hypothesis would allow avoiding some pitfalls, such as using the concept of “imaginary world,” which eludes precise definitions.