Map Something Silly: Reclaiming the Fun in GIS

For many of us, geospatial technology has become synonymous with work. GIS equals deadlines. LiDAR equals deliverables. Remote sensing equals reports. Even if you genuinely love what you do, the repetition of projects, revisions and professional expectations can dull the spark that drew you to geography in the first place. Somewhere along the way, curiosity gave way to production.

Professional development is important. Expanding your technical skillset, mastering new tools and refining your analytical abilities are valuable pursuits. They are strategic, career-building and often financially rewarding. But there is another type of growth worth cultivating: the kind that is impractical, unserious and driven purely by curiosity. Call it unprofessional development. It is mapping without a client, without a grant proposal and without a conference paper in mind.

The idea is simple. Map something just because you want to.

Curiosity Without Justification

We frequently tell newcomers that you can map almost anything. Yet once we become professionals, we narrow that promise to what is fundable, publishable or operationally useful. What if we returned to the original claim and took it literally?

Mapping does not have to serve the public good, generate revenue or solve a crisis. It can be motivated by nothing more than fascination. It can be playful. It can be odd. It can be personal.

Students instinctively understand this. Give an introductory GIS class the freedom to choose their own project and watch what happens. They map skateboarding hotspots, ideal snack crawls, karaoke venues that should exist but do not yet exist. At first glance, these topics may appear trivial. In reality, they are powerful. Students engage deeply because the subject matters to them. They learn by experimenting with spatial analysis in a context they care about. That enjoyment cements both skill and confidence.

Yes, some students choose serious themes like economic disparities or park accessibility. Those projects are meaningful. But the lesson is not about seriousness; it is about engagement. When mapping feels personally relevant, it sticks.

Permission to Be Professionally Silly

Most of us have not mapped purely for fun in a long time. We associate our tools with billable hours. Reclaiming that sense of play requires a shift in mindset. GIS does not have to live exclusively in the office. It can exist in downtime, daydreams and creative experiments.

You do not even have to complete a project. Simply imagining one can be energizing. Consider a ridiculous or niche topic and mentally design how you would approach it. What datasets would you need? What would the symbology look like? How would you structure the output? The act of creative thinking—free from performance pressure—reawakens your analytical instincts in a low-stakes environment.

There is one rule: do not search first to see if someone has already done it. This is not about novelty or publication. It is about your version, your curiosity, your vision.

Frivolous Mapping, Explained

Here are a few examples of mapping ideas that serve no professional agenda other than enjoyment.

Imagine an application called “Please No Hills,” designed for cyclists who love riding but dread elevation gain. The tool would generate routes optimized to minimize gradient within user-defined tolerances. Parameters could include acceptable slope ranges, willingness to extend travel distance and proximity to cafés that provide strategic rest stops. The objective is not efficiency but avoidance of lung-bursting climbs.

Or consider a toponymy playground. Enter a phrase and see which combinations of place names can reproduce its syllables. Explore how many cities contain tree species in their names, or how often foreign place names reappear within the United States. Such a tool would transform linguistic curiosity into spatial exploration.

Another concept: converting National Land Cover Data into paint-by-number kits. The layered color palettes and abstract spatial patterns would become tactile art experiences. Geological formations could follow. Mapping becomes meditation.

None of these ideas is mission-critical. That is precisely the point.

Inspiration from Others

Playful mapping already exists in the wild. Some individuals attempt to walk every street in their city and track the effort spatially. Others calculate hypothetical travel routes through fictional worlds, analyzing terrain between imagined destinations. Enthusiasts explore Bigfoot sighting datasets to teach spatial regression techniques. Hikers identify the most remote location in each state and physically travel there. Donut lovers catalog local shops by pastry type distribution.

These projects blur the line between hobby and analysis. They demonstrate that mapping can be an extension of personality rather than obligation.

Why It Matters

Creative play with geospatial tools strengthens intuition. It sharpens problem-solving in unconventional contexts. It lowers the stakes enough to experiment with unfamiliar techniques. Most importantly, it restores joy.

The geospatial profession benefits from practitioners who remember why they were drawn to maps in the first place. Passion sustains innovation. Curiosity fuels resilience. When mapping becomes solely transactional, it risks losing its vitality.

So here is the challenge: map something just because it delights you. Or imagine mapping it. Let your professional skills wander into whimsical territory. Engage your creativity without worrying about output metrics.

You might rediscover that the grind does not define the discipline. The joy does.