Nerd and Geek: Why You Shouldn't Call Yourself These Terms

For those who are inclined to enjoy activities that employ intellect, technical knowledge and skills, academic learning, or any combination of the three, it's easy to refer to oneself as a "geek" or "nerd." I used to do it a lot. For example, to express my enthusiasm for Euro-style board games, I would refer to myself as a "board game geek" (there's even a website that goes by that name). Also, even though I consider myself an avid long-distance runner, I would call myself a "running nerd" because of my interest in the accumulation and analysis of statistics that are generated during a run (heart rate, cadence, pace, and so on). Comic book nerd... Retro videogame geek... Movie nerd... Computer geek... "Nerd" and "geek" became frequently used terms in my personal lexicon and I didn't think much of them except that those terms seemed to best convey an enthusiasm for things that were traditionally regarded as brainy.

However, lately, I began thinking about "nerd" and "geek" and realized that they carried more layers of pejorative meaning than I had initially considered. One layer is the most salient one: when one thinks of a nerd, one thinks of a bespectacled, socially awkward, and physically inept braniac who takes pleasure in computers, studying, and math, but NOT in anything sports-related or car-related; also, when one thinks of a geek, one thinks of an extreme hobbyist or, even more archaically, a sideshow attraction in a traveling circus or carnival. This pejorative layer of meaning is self-deprecating and may have been meant for humorous effect. A slightly deeper layer of meaning is what nerd and geek imply: extreme interest. If one is TOO interested in something, one can be considered a nerd or geek. Yet, at an even deeper layer of pejorative meaning is self-excuse, as if one is excusing oneself for one's extreme behavior. The best way I can explain this point is in a mock conversation:

Jim: Wow, Bob, you really like old video games.
Bob: Yeah. They're the best.
Jim: Why are you so interested in old games?
Bob: Uh... I guess I'm just a video game nerd.

You may have caught yourself saying the same thing, as if you were excusing your interests with a self-deprecating comment, but I contend that it's one of the deepest insults one can use against oneself. Why? Well, not only have you called yourself a traditionally negative word and then identified your behavior as being unreasonably extreme, but you have also, in a way, asked someone to forgive or excuse you for your extreme behavior. By doing this, you have minimized your own value, reduced your hobby or interest to freakshow behavior, and then asked someone to forgive you for engaging in it, as if it shouldn't be worth your (or their) time. To me, that doesn't sound like an acceptable way to share a hobby or interest that one obviously values highly.

Let's look at it another way... Pretend you like programming, say, operating systems or, even more interesting, retro-style videogames. You like this hobby because it's mentally stimulating, it allows you to release any frustration you may have experienced during the day, and because it helps in introducing the current generation to old-style gaming -- a simpler, less graphically violent kind of gaming. You have spent hundreds of hours learning how to program, and you spend numerous hours scouring forums and magazines for programming tips. You may have even forge friendships with like-minded enthusiasts -- friendships that now encourage you in areas of your life besides your hobby and let you encourage others. Someday (maybe even now), the techniques you have learned may apply towards a career as a developer. Now, suppose that you meet a long-lost friend on the street. You tell him what you've been doing for the last couple of years... And then, you excuse it all away by saying to him, "I'm a retro videogame programming nerd." I contend that such self-deprecation does nothing to advertise how great a hobby is to other people, and it minimizes someone to a caricature.

Referring to yourself as a "nerd" or "geek" is neither good for yourself nor is it good for publicizing your interests. Even worse than that, using those words perpetuates stereotypes and makes it "uncool" to like cerebral things. Have you ever noticed that very few people talk about "car nerds," "football geeks," "hiking nerds," or "guitar geeks?" That's because these are not considered cerebral tasks (which is also a stereotype because those hobbies involve much skill, research, training, and intelligence). Thus, there are no nerd or geek stereotypes to continue. Of course, one can be a fantasy league football nerd or a car stats geek, but that's fodder for a different article...

Before I conclude, I should note that pursuing any hobby in excess is never good because one ends up compromising time with family, social time with regular non-enthusiasts, and, most importantly, time to grow spiritually. That said, if you like something that is generally regarded as cerebral or academic, don't bring yourself or your hobby down by calling yourself a "nerd" or "geek." You're an enthusiast, you're a hobbyist, and you're someone who happens to like doing something that uses your brain. If anything, by properly valuating yourself and your hobby, you may convey to someone else that the hobby is worth his or her time. Then, that person may want you to share that hobby with them, which would be good because we need more people that use their brains, but DON'T beat themselves up about it.

Why Families Need Board Games, Part III: Isolation, Assimilation, and Resonance

In this article, I continue a bit on the necessity of personal contact in board games, but from a different, somewhat inverse angle: isolation. I'm sure that all people have faced and felt isolation at one point in their lives -- that unmistakable feeling of an invisible barrier having been erected, making the outside world fade away behind a translucent haze with voices muffled and hearts hidden. Sometimes, our ever-increasing fascination with the hyper-reality of computers and audiovisual technology has the odd side-effect of separating us from others, but isolation starts from within us. It isn't the "world" that isolates us as much as it is we who isolate ourselves, and it all starts with a preoccupying thought:

"Do I belong?"

That sense of wanting to belong is integral to humanity. It's a thought that occurs to anyone who moves to a new city, attends a new church, gets a new job, or even runs with a new group of acquaintances. As one struggles to assimilate, one has to fight the feelings of being an outsider. These are diametrically-opposed forces: assimilation and isolation. These are forces that people should recognize, and people should also recognize the factors that affect each force. I believe that the desire to assimilate to God-given as we are commanded to love our God and love our neighbor; in many ways, to assimilate to our neighbor is natural. However, in the face of absorbing technology without balance, isolation is more commonplace, but there are so many more factors to consider, specifically divergent ideologies. Differences of faith (or lack of it) are easy to identify and tend to, regrettably, cloister us, but even in groups of like beliefs there are differences that threaten to divide.

To combat isolation (and to borrow from Star Trek technobabble), we must achieve resonance when two or more parties resonate at the same frequency. When we begin to understand each other's faults, yet reach a mindset in which those faults don't matter, we adapt and accept each other. We start to establish common ground. Common ground doesn't have means we compromise our beliefs or acquiesce; it means that, despite the gulf that divides, ties of friendship and love can bind us.

Have you ever asked a new acquaintance family from whom you sense something negative? Maybe, they were friendly at first but then they started to act strangely... Distant, perhaps. We isolate ourselves, but we must resonate at all costs. It doesn't have to be hard to resonate; if people don't have common faith, common ideologies, or even common ways of driving or ironing clothes, they can at least sit at a table and play board games.

Unplugging: An New Old Trend in Gaming and Communication

As I finished writing what was going to be my newest blog post this morning, I realized that my post was too lengthy to be a post, so I decided to publish it as an article on Epinions:

Unplugging: An New Old Trend in Gaming and Communication

In general, this article reflects my views on gaming, challenging people to step away from Internet-based and even technology-based entertainment in favor of face-to-face interaction and board games. This article seems to run counter to my enjoyment of video games, but I proposed a moderate approach to video games in which we play video games but only for a set amount of time and with people in the same room. For example, arcades twenty years ago were social hubs of interpersonal interaction and shared physical space, even if people were facing video game screens.

Anyway, to summarize, I support more board game time and face-to-face time, and less Internet time and social media time. Slowly, methodically, we are being enfolded into a electrically-powered technological collective that both shatters physical space and creates binary walls. We must overcome these walls and realize physical space once again, but endeavor to obliterate physical space by simply stepping away from screens and stepping towards each other.