Science Is for Nerds, Geeks, and Weirdoes Only!
If you are an expert or enthusiast or a person obsessed with an intellectual pursuit, welcome to the world of nerds, geeks, and weirdoes.
—Frank R. Spellman
The Way It Was
Has your significant other or some other close acquaintance ever cajoled or forced you into attending one of those company parties where a bunch of out-of-towners or out-of-country visitors—all bores, for sure—are being hosted for one nebulous reason or another? If you have, and if you caved in to the request that you attend, then we have some advice for you.
Again, if you truly find such a gathering boring—a veritable pain in the posterior—and wishing it were over before it even begins, we have discovered a sure fire way for you to be left alone; not at all bothered by anyone, certainly not by those who are so boring.
If you are the type who likes to think—think deeply—about all sorts of things in a solitary manner and just does not want to be bothered with any kind of small talk generated by small minds, we have some advice for you.
The following will set you free:
When you arrive at the party and are formally or informally introduced to the guests, make sure that you bring up one important fact about yourself. Make sure any conversation shifts and is directed at what it is that you do for a living . . . what your profession is . . . your line of work.
When the question is eventually asked, smile and simply reply: “I am a scientist.”
Other than stating that you are a dedicated follower and admirer of Charles Manson, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Norman Bates, Darth Vader, Nurse Ratched (the infamous nurse battle ax; a very deadly woman) or that undead, burned, disfigured face, body clad in red and dark green striped sweater, head topped with the brown fedora, wielding his trademark metal-clawed brown leather glove, better known as Freddy Krueger, nothing, absolutely nothing could be more shocking, attention-grabbing, heart-pinching and otherwise alerting to the condescending receiver of this information, whose internal microchip, after the initial stun-gun effect wears off, immediately processes this information: “Oh, my gosh . . . she is a scientist!”
Typically, the receiver of this news, trying to fake his or her way through with affected control and proper decorum, is polite but also somewhat in a hurry to move on—to leave your presence—to get the hell out of Dodge—and move on to others within the group. Hopefully, to those who are normal; those who never give science a thought—any thought at all. No, sir, none, period. They move on to those normal, real people; people he or she has something in common with.
When this occurs, the sender (that would be you, we assume), smiles and has the same thoughts, and additionally says to herself (yourself): “Mission accomplished!”
And that’s the way it is.
Is the account above credible, possible, and/or realistic? The answer to this question depends, of course. Depends on what? Depends on your experience and/or point of view. For example, if you are one of those seasoned folks out there who just happened to grow up in the 1950s, ‘60s, ‘70s, and even most of the ‘80s, you might not have too much trouble identifying with or at least recognizing the so-called nerd culture of that era.
“Nerd culture?” Yes, nerd culture. You know what we are talking about: Those past days when you were a kid at the playground, or a kid or young adult in school and it was so easy to pick out those kids or students that everyone classified as nerds, geeks, weirdoes, or worse.
In case recall fails you; let us refresh your memory. The guy (it was always a guy) who came to class with his pants jacked up just below the ribcage and held there by taut suspenders begging for release; whose socks never ever matched; whose too-tight-fitting shirt outlined a tall bony, emaciated frame; that short-sleeve shirt (that was always the same) with that conspicuous shirt-pocket and pocket-protector (of course) filled to the gills with a formidable display of stuff—pens, pencils, pencil sharpener, compass, and slide rule and God only knows what else—that only a geek, nerd, or weirdo would display in public. Then there were those glasses (how could anyone forget those?); the over-sized framed-ones that covered weird-looking eyes with the broken nose-piece covered by a band-aid; the face that was pallid-, pale-, anemic-looking with the only color present those ever-present red-mounded ready to burst at any moment pimples covering masses of that sickly-looking skin. That hair (was it really hair?) usually not combed, but when combed and treated with that “little dab’ll do ya” hair cream that glistened like freshly fallen snow in bright sunlight and smelled like a freshly cleaned garbage can. Also, heaven forbid, do not let us forget that this geek, nerd, weirdo, or whatever else you wish to label him never smiled when there was something to smile about and never frowned when you normally would. Nerds, geeks, or weirdoes are socially inept, definitely not cool—a nerd, geek, or weirdo can’t be cool. Because they were so smart—particularly brainy in all the sciences and higher mathematics, probably your most sickening day (and memory) was report card day. You with your pitiful D-’s, C-’s, an occasional B-, and maybe, if you prayed hard to Mother Teresa, even a miraculous A- grade, while your nerd, geek, or weirdo classmate(s) sported an (A+)-filled report card(s)—a card he was too dumb to display, to show off—but you did not need to see the report card to know the facts. No, sir. You knew. Some things are like that in life, and knowing that a nerd, geek, or weirdo classmate always got the highest grades in all your classes was just one of those facts of life—a given, for sure.
The Way It Is
What happened to all the nerds, geeks, and/or weirdoes? Where have they gone? Well, the fact of the matter is they are still around, but it is more difficult to identify them and sort them out from the rest of us.
Why?
Don’t you just hate that three letter word: Why? Well, if you were teachers like we are you would be used to that interrogatory and others. This is the “Why” generation and they want answers. And more power to them—and good for them, too.
Back to the Why question and our attempt to answer it. The answer boils down to an insidious happening—a mechanical/electronic/digital three-stage paradigm shift (i.e., slide rule to handheld calculator to personal computer)—that, while it was occurring, was not all that obvious to many of us, but had a profound effect on all of us. Let’s lay it out for you:
Stage 1: Slide Rule
This stage occurred in the era of the slide rule; circa 1950s and earlier. Today, it is difficult to believe, incomprehensible really, that there are many people who do not know what a slide rule is. How can this be? Well, the slide rule is one of those mathematical calculation devices (a mechanical analog computer), that if you knew how to use it—could save you a lot of time and effort. Those who used it proficiently knew its correct name, slipstick. All nerds, geeks, and weirdoes knew how to use one, blindfolded (well, almost, maybe a Braille slipstick). Used primarily for multiplication and division, the slipstick is also used for “scientific” functions such as roots, logarithms, and trigonometry, but not normally used for addition and subtraction.
Probably the greatest advantage of using the slide rule was that they were all standardized; there was no need to learn anything new when switching to a different rule. When compared to the instruments used for calculating today, one positive factor about the slide rule stands out: There was no need for batteries or outside electrical supply. Frequent users of slide rules found that multiple speed-time-distance calculations could be performed hands-free at a glance with a slide rule.
The problem with slide rule use is limited precision. The typical precision of a slide rule is about three decimal places. In contrast, a typical pocket calculator can display results to seven or more decimal places. Another disadvantage of using a slide rule is that it requires the user to mentally calculate the order of magnitude of the results. For example, 1.5 × 20 (which equals 30) will show the same result as 1,500,000 × 0.20 (which equals 30,000). This forces the user to keep track of magnitude in short-term memory, keep notes, or reason about it in every step, which makes the calculation process not only tedious, cumbersome, and distracting but also subject to error. If the slide rule is not properly cared for (kept clean and out of direct sunlight) errors may arise from mechanical imprecision because the rule is warped by heat and/or lack of proper care.
Students who were not bent toward science and/or math studies looked at the slide rule like a non-surgeon might look at a scalpel; a tool that has an important function, but beyond their capabilities. For the average student during the slide rule era, walking around with one in hand or one projecting from a pocket in plain view of anyone and everyone was like carrying a very visible scarlet letter on their person. In this instance, the scarlet letter, of course, signified geek, nerd, or weirdo, and that just was not cool—no prominent member of the “in” crowd would be caught dead with a slide rule anywhere near them.
The importance and use of the slide rule began to diminish as electronic computers, especially the development of electronic calculators for scientific and engineering use, became widely available to technical workers during the 1960s. But it was the introduction of the pocket calculator that brought about stage two of the three-stage paradigm shift.
Stage 2: Pocket Calculator
In the early 1970s, the daily lives of people (including so-called nerds, geeks, and weirdoes) throughout the developed world were changed profoundly by the advent of a small electronic machine that could perform basic mathematical problems much more quickly and more accurately than could be worked out on paper or by using a slide rule. This small electronic machine was the handheld calculator, of course. The calculator, not to be confused with the computer, which has an almost unlimited general problem solving ability, is a device that is used for performing mathematical calculations. Initially, the handheld calculator was relatively bulky and expensive. These basic, crude, and expensive handheld devices evolved with time and innovation into the modern electronic calculators that are generally small, digital, pocket-sized, and usually inexpensive.
For the average student, the pocket calculator was heaven-sent. As mentioned, before the pocket calculator’s introduction, widespread acceptance and use, students and others had to rely on paper and pencil calculations, use of the slide rule, or operation of large, clumsy mechanical calculators. After pocket calculators became readily available at reasonable prices, just about anyone who possessed one became an instant mathematician—people need a lower degree of mathematical ability because the calculator is a tool readily available to them. The pocket calculator not only revolutionized simple calculations, it also cut down on calculation time while raising accuracy levels.
Many students today have difficulty accepting life without the handheld calculator. They just can’t imagine doing math without one. But electronic handheld calculators are a relatively recent invention. When this is explained to twenty-something students, many find it hard to believe. For those of us who grew up before the advent of these electronic marvels, we are sometimes astonished how fast things have changed, how we have advanced, and how simple many educational tasks are today as compared to the past.
To illustrate the point we are making about how the electronic handheld calculator has accelerated changes in educational theory, let’s look at an excerpt from a popular novel from the past, The Little Town on the Prairie, by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1941).
Divide 347,264 by 16. Sixteen into thirty-four goes twice, put down two and carry two; sixteen into twenty-seven goes once, put down one and carry 11; sixteen into one hundred and twelve goes seven times, put down seven and carry naught; sixteen into sixty-four goes four times, put down four. Three hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and sixty-four divided by sixteen equals—twenty-one thousand, seven hundred and four.
Mental arithmetic like that performed by Laura Ingalls Wilder is almost obsolete in today’s society. As Burrill (1992) points out, “[calculators] allow us to introduce mathematical ideas and techniques that have been beyond the reach of traditional low-tech curricula.”
Today, calculators have evolved into high-tech, multifunctional tools. Better displays and more functions powered by solar power have been added to the basic calculator. Scientific and high mathematics models are now more affordable than the original four-function hand-held calculator.
So, what impact has the advent of the pocket calculator had on what we call nerds, geeks, or weirdoes? According to Michele Alice (2009), the calculator “launched a thousand nerds . . . pocket protectors not required.” Before the advent of the pocket calculator, nerds, geeks, and weirdoes lived pretty drab lives—there simply was no WOW factor associated with operating a slip stick. After the advent of the pocket calculator, even nerds, geeks, or weirdoes were WOWED to tears of joy by their new magical toys/instruments. The only limit on a highly programmable scientific pocket calculator was their imaginations, which many observers felt were limitless.
With the advent of the pocket calculator, probably the only apparent changes in the nerds, geeks, or weirdo’s appearance was in two noticeable aspects: (1) The slide rule disappeared, and (2) a programmable calculator was now carried in a special belt holster. The fact is no respectable nerd, geek, or weirdo would be caught in public without his programmable calculator.
The advent of the pocket calculator had another profound effect that few, at the time, recognized. We are talking about the impact the pocket calculator had on the non-nerds, non-geeks, and non-weirdoes—on plain old Dick and Jane. Consider this, many young people deliberately avoided any form of science because the math was too difficult and working a slide rule was unthinkable, unimaginable, just too uncool, period. Ah, but then the pocket calculator came on scene and for the average student, mathematical bliss and accomplishment were just a few keys punched leading to the promised land—to the solution (and in most cases, to the correct solution). So, without a doubt, the introduction of the pocket calculator impacted some perceptions about nerds, geeks, and weirdoes for one simple reason: Just about everyone was using a pocket calculator. Thus, there was a slight, subtle, almost imperceptible blending or mixing of (God forbid!) plain old Dick- and Jane-types and the dreaded nerds, geeks, and weirdoes. However, in all fairness we must point out that when not in actual use, plain old Dick and Jane kept their calculators mostly concealed, hidden from view. It is most certain—a given—that no respectable Dick or Jane carried their pocket calculator in a holster on their belt. No, sir—not cool, not cool at all.
Stage 3: Personal Computers (PCs)
It was the advent of the personal computer (PC) in the early 1980s that provided the motive force to make the worm to turn in regards to most people’s view of nerds, geeks, and weirdoes. Although such computer icons (whiz kids) as Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and Steve (the Woz) Wozniak are still considered nerds, geek, or weirdoes by many, these terms now seem to have a more positive connotation than they did in the past. Moreover, based on our experience, we have had difficulty since the ‘90s differentiating nerds, geeks, and weirdoes from your average Dick and Jane.
Why has this third stage of the mechanical/electronic/digital calculating three-part paradigm shift been so dramatic? Good question. The simple answer is the universality of use of the personal computer, especially laptops, tablet PCs, and handheld PCs (aka palmtops). The compound answer is the Internet and Facebook.
Back in the day it seemed fairly easy to stereotype certain people as nerds, geeks, or weirdoes. Today it is more difficult and incorrect to stereotype those who use a PC as nerds, geeks, weirdoes because there are so many users; every Dick and Jane we know either possesses a PC or uses one at the library, or at a friend’s house. Just about every student in our classes uses a laptop computer (hopefully to take notes and not surf the web while we are lecturing). We simply find it impossible to find the nerds, geeks, and weirdoes in our classrooms.
Nerds, geeks, and weirdoes, where are you?
Today, those social networking sites, namely Facebook, seem to connect every user with friends and others who work, study, and live around them. Moreover, we have noticed that it is common practice for our students to use Facebook to keep in touch with friends, post photos, share links, and exchange other information.
One thing that gets our immediate attention in this age of the PC and the Internet is whenever we assign our students term papers, research papers, or a thesis or dissertation to complete as part of their graduation requirements. There are always a few groans and moans and silent expletives spoken whenever students find out that they must do research and properly cite the source of their research in whatever college level written work they are assigned. The students’ reactions interest us because back in the day we remember the countless hours we spent in various libraries trying to find sources and copies of the source’s materials to use. You see, when we nerds, geeks, and weirdoes had research to do, we could not simply boot up several million sources on the Internet and put the pedal to the metal in our writing, because the inconvenient truth is: There was no Internet or PCs—just a bunch of nerds, geeks, and weirdoes trying to learn science the old fashioned way.
References and Recommended Reading
Adler, I., 1961. Thinking Machines: A Layman’s Introduction to Logic, Boolean Algebra and Computers. New York: Signet Science Library.
Arnold, J. N., 1954. The Slide Rule: Principles and Applications. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, inc.
Ball, G., & Flamm, B., The History of Pocket Electronic Calculators.
Bernstein, J. 1978. Experiencing Science. New York: Basic Books, Inc.
Burrill, G., 1992. The Graphing Calculator: A Tool for Change. In Calculators in Mathematics Education. Edited by J. T. Fey and C. R. Hirsch, (Eds.), Reston, VA: National Council of Teachers of Mathematics, Inc.
Dessart, D., and Hembree, R., 1992. Research on Calculators in Mathematics Education. In Calculators in Mathematics Education. Edited by J. T. Fey and C. R. Hirsch, 23.1, Reston, VA: National Council of Teachers of Mathematics, Inc.
Pullan, J. M, 1969. The History of the Abacus. New York: Frederick A. Praeger.
Sagan, C., 1996. The Demon-Haunted World. New York: Ballantine Books.
Wilder, L. I. 1941. Little Town on the Prairie. New York: Harper and Brothers.