Why Can’t We Be Friends?
“Everybody’s entitled to his/her own opinion” is one of the sneakier axioms we have in the geek community. Oh, sure, it’s true to an extent. Even if opinions have different degrees of validity in a lot of cases, nobody would really argue your right to have one.
The sneaky part comes in because what ISN’T said in that phrase is that, “And the rest of us use this opinion to make judgements about whether or not you’re the type of person who matters to me.”
Geeks take stuff personally. As Indy Zoeller pointed out last week, pretty much all of us have those properties that seem to be a part of us; certain works of art seem to in some small way define who we are. For me, though, the ways in which we talk about them often seem a little off-target.
Now, before we get started, a clarification: I get that the piece I’m referencing was meant in fun, and didn’t quite make ALL the claims I’m talking about, but it came to me at a time when I’d already been turning this issue over in my head a lot. In other words, I’m not picking on anybody in the comments on that post; it just provides a handy starting point for something that’s been bugging me.
Anyway, it seems perfectly natural to take criticisms of those things to heart. When you make something personal, then it’s personal. If it garners praise, some of that seems to reflect back on the fans; when it comes under attack, it feels like an insult.*
The ultimate implication of geek segregationists is that the people who are fans of different properties are fundamentally different types of people. Which… strikes me as a little far-fetched. It’s a cliche example, but I far prefer Star Wars to that other famous “Star” series. Does that make me a fundamentally different type of person than a Trekkie?
(Ignore, for a moment, that I’ve liked a decent amount of Star Trek stuff and the fact that it’s perfectly possible to like both.)
I submit that it doesn’t. In fact, if you back up a bit, you’d find that myself and the Trekkie are in firm agreement that space adventure fiction matters. Which, is a pretty specific thing to have in common. Furthermore, every single person who reads this site knows that these “geek culture” items — comics, movies, games, books — can be absolutely transformative works of art. A small nation of people exist who dedicate their lives to telling great stories through these mediums; we are the ones who get to appreciate it.
That’s a pretty cool thing to share.
I could be wrong, but I suspect most of these fan-favorite content creators — Lucas, Spielberg, Jackson, Moffat, Nolan, whoever — aren’t in the business to create rifts between people. I mean, probably someone somewhere is, but I bet most folks get into storytelling as a way to foster communication. Whether it’s showing us another culture, challenging us with an idea, or simply taking us for a ride. These people do their work to give us a common touchstone** for our dialogue. And the thing about a dialogue is that in no way does it require people to agree.
(I’d also be remiss, in my opinion, if I didn’t point out that a hell of a lot of these stories we love are ultimately about overlooking differences, the importance of respect, and other such community-building things. So it’s hard for me to be a fan of Lord of the Rings, but still dismiss people who aren’t fans of Lord of the Rings. Seems a bit hypocritical.)
Because the truth is, people like what they like for different reasons. Especially as we talk about some of the more ubiquitous properties, people connect to all sorts of different things.
Take Star Wars. Some people love the underdog story; the noble Rebels taking on the evil Empire. Others love the genre; who couldn’t love a chance to visit new worlds? Still others love the mythological underpinnings; the allusions to legends go far beyond the Hero’s Journey. And of course there are those who dig the technical innovation, or the narrative ingenuity, or even something as simple as a handful of likeable characters.
On the other hand, a lot of my good friends think it’s kind of weird that I even care about Star Wars that much. In the end, I’ve found that my relationship with Star Wars — though it’s something that provides a lot of raw material for conversations — has very little to say about my relationships to other people.
It’s not what these properties say about us, it’s what they say to us.
Now, it’s still super-cool to find someone who shares a lot of your tastes and opinions. It’s even cooler when the shared opinion is over one of those personally defining works. Indy’s article from last week, and more accurately the comment by ‘Chris,’ raised an interesting point: These types of pop culture entities can serve as a handy barometer to see what sort of thing a person is into or finds important at a glance.
There’s a certain way in which this really works. For instance, I felt a connection to that random guy on Youtube who posted a video essay on why Superman Returns is one of the greatest superhero movies of all time (my own essay is forthcoming, by the way).
A big thing this doesn’t account for is the way that tastes always evolve. If you don’t involve yourself with people who think differently than you, you do both parties a disservice. Your impassioned argument for the relative merits of Community or whatever might be just the thing that gets that show another fan. Likewise, they might bring up an issue with The Hunger Games that you’d never considered before.
For me, that moment of profound disagreement is the exact moment when somebody absolutely DOES have something to say that the other person needs to hear.
But the biggest thing that comment misses is the point I made earlier. We already have a ton in common simply by being the types of people who give up part of a day to visit (And comment! Below!) a site like Unreality. Let’s not forget how much we have to agree on to even get to the point where we can have these disagreements.
And let’s not cut off the conversation right when it gets interesting.
FOOTNOTES:
*And there are certainly times where it IS an insult. For the sake of this post, I’m not talking about flame wars or truly hateful opinions.
**To borrow a phrase.
I think the best way to be friends with those of opposing opinions is to keep things in perspective. That means NOT taking them personally. I am a crazy LOTR fan, but I almost passed out laughing at the scene in Clerks 2 where Randall tears a couple of Ringers apart. It’s perfectly fine to make fun something other people like, but the key to that is being able to take what you dish out. Being upset by stuff like that implies a high level of insecurity. Fiction is really important to me, but real life is much more so. If you are getting angry about fiction to the point where it affects real life, that could be a problem.
“If you don’t involve yourself with people who think differently than you, you do both parties a disservice.”
??? I personally don’t think so. I think that you run the risk of doing a disservice, but I can’t see any set of circumstances where this is always the case. Mind you: I’m older than most, so maybe this is just a position that kinda/sorta comes and/or changes with age. As a writer, I don’t much even think about “will others agree with what I’m writing” probably because I write for very distinct reasons, and those reasons tell me to be true to my muse, regardless of the consequences. And, sorry, but there’s an awful awful awful lot of stupid people out there: I mean … have you seen Miley Cyrus and her followers? If you think I give a rat’s but about whether or not they agree with my likes or not, then I have a bridge to sell you.
Also, I think you kinda/sorta misrepresent filmmakers. Having met a small handful but talked with a pretty respectable handful electronically, I don’t think any storyteller gets into the business of telling stories with any desire whatsoever to create its own ‘fandom.’ So far as the storytellers are concerned, that’s the business of the ‘suits’ and marketing department. Storytellers don’t like being thought of ‘commercial’ in any respect — certainly not ones who consider themselves auteurs or legitimate artists; to them, capitalism is little more than an ugly word. In other words, George Lucas clearly doesn’t give two shakes about what the fans think of his films b/c he keeps making them when so very many have vocally asked him to stop after THE PHANTOM MENACE. Likewise, Spielberg has kinda/sorta rebuffed the whole notion of how well his films perform commercially b/c, as I said, he doesn’t “want” to be thought of in that light. It’s a treacherous line to walk — one that social media artists embrace much more than the rest of society at large — but one most filmmakers feel they should stray nowhere near.
But I do think your article raises a lot of good points. You probably won’t find a bigger fan of just ‘film’ in general than I am; I try to find something good in each flick I see, but that ain’t always easy. Do I attach myself to franchises? Meh. I suppose I do, but it’s an awful lot of off’n’on tendencies.
I mostly agree wholeheartedly with what you’re saying. I think there’s more that unites us that divides us, I think dissent and discussion can be a great source of insight and change, and I think that simply by virtue of the fact that two people enjoy stories, they have something in common, even if they like wildly different stories or like the same ones for different reason.
I also think “geek segregationists” are mostly an illusion, an overblown phantom of the internet. I have yet to see an actual, honest-to-god nerd freakout in real life where Trek vs. Wars was an actual thing that people broke off friendships for. I tend to think that groups, as a rule, are kind of stupid. My preferences and opinions are my own; some of them line up with the preferences of “geek culture,” whatever that is, some don’t.
So, yes, hooray for inclusion, and we don’t have to all agree to all get along. But you have to prioritize, you have to triage. There are a lot of people out there, and a lot of them aren’t worth my time and energy. Like Chris said in the comments to my article, the touchstones that I’m talking about are a quick and dirty way to make those judgments. Honestly, we’re talking about two separate issues here. You’re talking about the whole culture of “if you think Ford is better than Chevy, GTFO.” Or, “I would never use a Mac; they’re for pretentious douchebags.” Those kind of arguments are silly. And they’re a good way to cut off real discussion, for all the reasons you mentioned. But that wasn’t what I was talking about at all. You’re talking about exclusion to the cult of fandom, I’m talking about one’s own personal tastes dictating their life aesthetic and serving as a kind of barometer for the world around them.