The Origins of the Nerd

Is it possible to pinpoint the precise moment when a person becomes a nerd? One would think it would be easy to see the warning signs as a sudoku book gradually fills and Minesweeper becomes one of the most frequently used applications on the computer. Of course, the emergence of the nerd might occur later in the developmental stage, as when the screen name "A Academic" possesses enough grammatical irony to both amuse and pain him.


"A Academic" grates on the nerves. Constantly, the name demands revision. The insertion of the proper article would transform the name into "An Academic," a much smoother and more intelligent sound. Sadly, the name of the blog and the pun would both be lost through the transformation. Such is the cost of being arbitrary in the search for academics.


Perhaps the first sign of a true nerd is the posting of a blog about the origins of nerdiness . . .

Whenever the nerd is born, however, he enters a needlessly vicious world. From the moment of his appearance, people are willing to bombarge him with mistaken grammar, faulty facts, or flawed arguments. The pain may even be self-inflicted, as when his screen name wavers between torment and a source of amusement.

These slight annoyances are, of course, the least of the nerd's worries. A far greater danger exists in the actual application of the word "nerd." Even the dictionary provides a less-than-favorable definition, calling him "socially inept." Worse, as unusual and wrong as it may seem, the dictionary definition contains no reference to a nerd's innate intelligence! One would assume that such an essential quality would be listed, but sadly any reference to intelligence was reserved for the geek. Even the geek could only claim talent in math and science, leaving all other fields barren of socially inept prodigies.

What of the brilliant but flighty Beethoven, who once entered a restaurant, seated himself, and then asked for the check without ever having ordered anything? What of Socrates, the short, ugly, unkempt philosopher whose life's accomplishments consisted mainly of revealing the stupidity of his contemporaries (for which intrusive criticism he was killed)?

Despite their embodiment of brilliance and obvious social ineptitude, these individuals are labeled "genius" rather than "nerd" or even "geek." Although most nerds may lack their sheer brilliance, it is a source of pride that few nerds exhibit such an extreme want of social grace. In fact, very few nerds have been sentenced to death for their difficulties in society.

The dictionary also fails to take into account that closet nerds might exist, nerds with social skills who bury their natural tendencies towards useless knowledge under a guise of normalcy. These nerds, especially, deserve the right to far nicer connotations for their given label. Is it really too much to ask that the name be re-defined to permit kinder thoughts to accompany the word "nerd?"

Indeed, "nerd" would be far better defined as "an inquisitive person, who longs to discover all knowledge about any subject. The person you would want on your team in a game of Trivial Pursuit." For instance, who but a nerd would discover the speculation that his label may have originated under the pen of Dr. Seuss? (He admitted a Nerd into his menagerie in If I Ran the Zoo.)

Clearly, the nerd deserves a better reputation than his current one. His afflictions are well-documented in the personal histories of geniuses, and he enjoys the prestigious background of a cameo appearance in a children's book. Only two arguments can logically follow from this fact: either the nerd should be awarded far more respect, or he should be locked in Seuss's zoo. A word of warning to all who undertake to solve this dilemma: nerds in cages cannot learn social skills and will make very hostile teammates in Trivial Pursuit.