This isn’t new ground, but every few days the world of geeks, techies, and enthusiasts seems to turn inward and heave a collective sigh. You see geeks (or nerds or whatever self-applied name you prefer)—we who pride ourselves on our enthusiasm for things, who identify as the underdog, who revel in our trajectory from close-minded communities that didn’t get us into welcoming utopias—are host to some pretty rough shit.

You see it in the trouble with being welcoming to women.

You see it in the entitled firestorms that erupt out of disagreements over what we should like or who belongs as a part of the community.

And you see it in the fact that touching on geeky interests seems to be the necessary formula for receiving death threats.

It’s that last one that prompted me to write this time. I saw Jenn Frank retweet this article from Vice. That article and the subsequent discussion, starting here with her summation that, “No, movie critics do not get death threats, but critics of movies based on comic books do,” got me thinking again about why this is. Now, to be fair, I don’t have statistics here. I don’t know if a careful accounting of threats would bear this out, but it sure does feel that way, and those threats sure do come out in the geekier corners of the internet.

There are several things at play here, but before I get into the more subtle bits, I want to say this: death threats are never OK. Yes, sure, I know at some point recently you turned to a friend and said “Ugh, I’m going to kill you” or something like it. And you might be wondering why telling someone you don’t know on the internet that you’d be overjoyed to see them die painfully in a fire because you disagree with something they said is any different. The reason you can get away with that in your personal life is that you know the person you’re talking to. They can see you and hear you (or have seen and heard you enough that they can imagine seeing and hearing you with accuracy) and know the context. The internet makes us feel like we’ve gotten to know many people with quasi-public personas, but you don’t. And they certainly don’t know you. Even if you think you’re just being passionate, it’s never OK to tell someone you wish they were dead. Trust me. They may not take you seriously per se, but they don’t think you’re kidding. And thats before even getting into the truly dark stuff.

But what about the middle ground? The stuff more along the lines of “No, you’re wrong. You suck!” We’ve all felt that reaction when someone criticizes something we love, and if most of us are well adjusted enough not to lash out in the form of death threats, we’ve probably caught ourselves starting to respond to someone in other, more minor, unhealthy ways. Why is this so much more prevalent in geek culture than in the main stream?

The first reason is, simply, that we care. Geek culture is defined around people who care an awful lot about something. A TV nerd isn’t someone who just passively enjoys whatever happens to be on. They’re someone who seeks it out and feels passionate about their likes and dislikes. And if they self-identify as a TV nerd, they’re someone for whom that passion is a part of their identity. Listening to someone attack those likes can feel like an attack on their person. Conversely if you don’t really care that much, if you find TV just to be a good way to pass a little time, you’re not likely to get worked up about it, and you’re also not going to call yourself a TV nerd.

More deeply, geeks in particular have an aversion to being shut up or silenced. This is where all sides of arguments often flounder. When two sides disagree, it’s very easy for both to think that the other side isn’t just disagreeing with them, but is trying to erase their ability to speak their mind. Ironically enough, this generally takes the form of them countering by trying to shut down the other end of the discussion. In a broader sense that’s what this whole discussion is. Critics say something some people don’t like. People say they don’t like it. Critics say people shouldn’t say that. Obviously that’s overly reductive, and, in a sort of Godwin’s law derivative, the first side to reach for personal attacks needs to cool it the most, but both sides would benefit from recognizing that each has the right to their opinions.

I think that at the root, geekdom’s problems here stem from the fact that we’ve all been told, repeatedly, that whatever it is we like is stupid. That it ins’t something grownups should enjoy. That it isn’t real literature. That only a loser would care about that. Geek culture may be going mainstream with summer blockbusters being based on comic books, but it’s a fractal. It’s nerdiness all the way down. There’s always a level deeper that mainstream society doesn’t get. “Movies are frivolous, go read a book.” “I love film, but gosh, grow up and watch a real movie” “Comic book movies are fun, but you actually read comic books?” “Comics are fun, but you’re going to a convention?” “I love cons, but I don’t get all the dress-up. That’s so juvenile.” And so on. No matter how mainstream various parts of geekdom will get, geeks will always be born being told that their interests aren’t normal or valid.

Part of the wonder of the internet, and of growing up in general, is finding the freedom to select groups of peers who share those interests. It’s realizing you’re not alone, and there are people out there who value what you do. To be sure this can lead to groupthink, and it can be a way to hide from challenging opinions, but it’s also wonderful. Nerds as a rule don’t lack for access to opinions that our interests are silly or wrong or unimportant.

But that experience does set up a poison. Being told that our interests and opinions aren’t valid should make nerds particularly empathetic to underdogs everywhere, whether we identify with their points of view or not. And to be sure many segments of geek space do cheer as women break into male dominated fields. They do stand up for trans folk fighting for the right to be themselves, and support queer people’s desires to live openly however they see fit. But it can, and does, go the other way, too. Those communities are hard won and it’s easy to see threats at the gates instead. The sentiment can all too quickly turn to, “But I only just found a place where I can be comfortable being myself, and now you want to change it?”

Likewise nerds, of all people, should love tearing something apart and analyzing it. Especially if it’s something they love. It’s what we do, right? But when someone from a position of perceived authority comes out and says they don’t like something, it’s all too easy to hear that voice telling you to grow up. That your preferences aren’t valid. And that feels like a call to arms, not an opportunity to geek out over why your opinion differs. Even worse, if the dissenting opinion comes from within the community, it can feel like a betrayal. The voice telling you that you’re stupid for liking the things you do is coming from inside the building!

So it’s understandable that vitriol follows passion. That people who see their own existence as a struggle against a dismissive mainstream will lash out at being dismissed. And I don’t think we need to blame the internet or passion or give up our desire to bond with fellow outcasts. But next time you feel perplexed about how anyone could possibly fail to like your own beloved movie or book or game, try to channel that feeling into an examination of how it could be even better. That’s what geeks do best. Lean on it. And you don’t have to come away agreeing with the conclusions, but recognize that thinking about where counter-arguments are coming from is a great opportunity to think more deeply about your most loved topics.

And also, just, like don’t be a dick about it, OK?

Edit to add a depressing postscript: No sooner did I post this than I saw people being horrible to Zelda Williams over her father’s death. I’m not sure this really adds much to the conversation, other than just that people suck, and if you look, you’ll find them being terrible to people with any sort of visibility.