Thirty years ago, nerds were the good guys and cool kids were the bad guys, and it was as simple as that. But things have changed. Due to various cultural shifts and new technologies, nerds are now causing more suffering in America than socially adept people are. You can call it a disturbance in the Force if you want to, but whatever we call it, it’s something that we nerds need to acknowledge and address.
The fact that – as the result of aneurotypicality, past trauma, or some combination of the two – we exist largely outside of sociality and socialization means that we are also largely unaffected by these things. This gives us the capacity to do good and important things, and we are justified in being proud of this. But it is time – past time – for us all to confront, both collectively and each alone with himself, the fact that it also gives us the capacity to do great harm. Philosophers and inventors are indeed people who see things differently and march to the beats of their own drummers, but so are mass murderers. And at this point, somebody philosophizing or inventing is not what I see on the news every two weeks.
Usually, a flip-out mass shooting is the doing of someone who was tired of feeling invisible – whether it be at work, or in the eyes of women, or with respect to his pet views about politics. We nerds were disregarded, if not actively persecuted, when we were teenagers, and the promises of adults that this would change after high school turned out to be empty ones. We found, to our supreme heartbreak and the spite of our young trust in the promises of authorities, that, although the physical beatings and face-to-face mockery tapered off, society’s accolades would continue to be, throughout adult life, largely doled out on bases barely modified from those we had hoped to age past.
But this has always been the case. What has changed is American society’s ever-increasing premium on fame for the sake of fame, augmented at the close of the 20th century by two phenomena: the rise of reality shows, on which unremarkable people got national attention for no special reason (instead of nerds, who deserve attention for being special), and, even more importantly, the spread of the internet and the rise of a distinct culture within its boundaries, one that engendered the possibility of “microfame” of the MySpace/Facebook and YouTube variety. More than ever before, it became possible for someone with a pretty face who knew “how to talk to people” to achieve something that is enough like fame to envy while acting alone from home – and for someone without a pretty face and with no idea of how to talk to people to achieve the accompanying negative image of fame by trolling the first type of people.
This is not a minor point. Microfamous internet celebrities put themselves out there, usually with their real faces if not always with their real names. Trolls operate by augmenting their voices while concealing their identities. You will note that, unlike Vader, Kylo Ren does not wear a mask because he was disfigured and needs it to survive – he wears a mask because he just thinks wearing a mask is awesome.
Paradoxical as it may seem for someone who is tired of being unnoticed to put on a mask, it serves the purposes of concealment and intimidation once he has crossed the line into actively seeking negative attention. Before the mask, there was simply no attention – or perhaps, worse still, a promise of future positive attention that never materialized. By a few years into post-school young adulthood, it becomes clear that the positive attention is probably never going to come, especially in this age when people become famous in their teens or very early twenties or not at all. The options, then, are negative attention or invisibility, and invisibility in a fame culture is tantamount to nonexistence.
This is why so many nerds – or “fanboys,” as those of this type have come derisively to be called – cling so hard to a sense of ownership over certain cultural touchstones such as the Star Wars films. If you cannot be famous, in either a positive or a negative way, then at least something that is famous can be yours. This is why so many nerds have reacted with so much aggression towards the fact that none of the three new principal protagonists introduced in The Force Awakens is a white male. To call this “unrealistic,” of course, is asinine, since we are talking about a film series that is already enthusiastically unrealistic on every level, and to present this reaction as a protest against the supposed power of the alleged “P.C. Police” is just another cover.