"Nerd" vs. "Geek" vs. "Dork:" A User's Manual

Honestly, I’m kind of dreading May 19^th.  Next Sunday, hundreds of Tufts undergrads, including me, will “graduate” from being ambitious collegians to (probable) unemployment and the quarter-life crisis.  Gee, can’t wait for that part of my life.  But anyways.

Aside from an uncertain future, there are several reasons why I’m sad to leave the Hill.  Boston is awesome.  Living with friends is fun.  Online access to JSTOR and ScienceDirect rocks.  Most of all, this university has been my home for four years and I love being a student, as Jumbos are wont to do.  We are…nerds?  Geeks, perhaps?  Dorks?  As I learned in this semester’s Spanish translation class, even apparent synonyms have nuanced differences in meaning.  Finals being over, I’ve had plenty of time to ponder such topics…

Here’s the classical distinction, according to print and Internet sources:

Geek: least pejorative of the three.  Denotes inordinate knowledge in a non-mainstream area.  Like hipsters, geeks are proud of their offbeat hobbies and often wear t-shirts proclaiming said interests.

Nerd: Slightly more socially damning, but indicative of intelligence and/or academic achievement.

Dork: describes someone lacking social skills and/or hipness who isn’t necessarily smarter than the average bear.  Napoleon Dynamite.  Not an affectionate term.

To whit: in the early Harry Potter books especially, brainy, bookish, and socially embattled goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger is a nerd. Neville Longbottom (who has a none-too-hip pet toad and describes himself as “almost a Squib”) is a classic dork.  And Mr. Weasley’s uncommon fascination with all things Muggle is undoubtedly geeky.

The tougher distinction is between “geek” and “nerd”.  While my research indicates that the former is less offensive, most of my friends said they’d rather be called the latter.  Peers at Tufts and elsewhere generally agreed: geek implies scientific or technological prowess (see computer repair company Geeks on Call) or sci-fi fandom.  However, they also mentioned “drama geeks” and “movie geeks”—people who know absurd amounts about obscure, non-science topics.  The classical distinction: nerds frequent libraries and laboratories, whereas geeks are more likely to be spotted at E3 or a Trekkie convention.  Note that the two are not mutually exclusive.

While “nerd” might imply awkwardness, it also implies general intellectuality; perhaps that’s why Tuftsians embrace the label.  Liberal arts types especially are apt to wear shirts with Venn diagrams or quote Shakespeare at friends as they walk in the door (not that I’ve, uh, ever done either), self-describing as “nerdy”, not “geeky.”  An English major may identify as a nerd, but leave “geek” for Star Wars buffs and those whose second language is C++.

In my experience, people tend to say “nerd” more than “geek” nowadays.  Last night, in response to my explanation of how indie band Vampire Weekend have started to take after the Strokes in terms of career path and niche in the collective consciousness of popular music culture, my friend looked at me and deadpanned: “Nerd.”  Thing is, according to the definitions I’ve found, such discussion should be described as “geeky”.  What gives?

Maybe it comes down to exposure; self-identified nerds are more likely to throw the term around.  Perhaps as computer culture became the norm and parents started texting their kids to come downstairs for dinner, being a “geek” in the techie sense stopped being a noteworthy distinction.  On the other hand, there will always be people who love learning, regardless of social expectations—and as long as schools like Tufts are around, they’ll be able to find kindred spirits.

I can’t say I have any regrets about going to a school whose history society has a logo like this.

Does the difference really matter?  This xkcd comic suggests that maybe it doesn’t—not to most people, anyway.  Whatever, man.  I like learning and I like weird things.  I always will.

Just don’t call me a dork, okay?