Nerds: Stop hating women, please

One comic creator's rant is just the latest example of misogyny in geek culture.

Tony Harris is in no way a household name. But as the artist behind some of the most critically acclaimed comics in the last 20 years, noteably Starman with James Robinson for DC and Ex Machina with Brian K. Vaughan for Wildstorm, he was a hugely respected figure in the industry.

"Was".

Today, Harris posted a rant on his Facebook wall, which was re-posted to Tumblr by Jill Pantozzi, the associate editor of The Mary Sue, a site dedicated to "girl geek culture". Harris writes (and I've not edited this in any way):

I cant remember if Ive said this before, but Im gonna say it anyway. I dont give a crap.I appreciate a pretty Gal as much as the next Hetero Male. Sometimes I even go in for some racy type stuff ( keeping the comments PG for my Ladies sake) but dammit, dammit, dammit I am so sick and tired of the whole COSPLAY-Chiks. I know a few who are actually pretty cool-and BIG Shocker, love and read Comics.So as in all things, they are the exception to the rule. Heres the statement I wanna make, based on THE RULE: "Hey! Quasi-Pretty-NOT-Hot-Girl, you are more pathetic than the REAL Nerds, who YOU secretly think are REALLY PATHETIC. But we are onto you. Some of us are aware that you are ever so average on an everyday basis. But you have a couple of things going your way. You are willing to become almost completely Naked in public, and yer either skinny( Well, some or most of you, THINK you are ) or you have Big Boobies. Notice I didnt say GREAT Boobies? You are what I refer to as "CON-HOT". Well not by my estimation, but according to a LOT of average Comic Book Fans who either RARELY speak to, or NEVER speak to girls. Some Virgins, ALL unconfident when it comes to girls, and the ONE thing they all have in common? The are being preyed on by YOU. You have this really awful need for attention, for people to tell you your pretty, or Hot, and the thought of guys pleasuring themselves to the memory of you hanging on them with your glossy open lips, promising them the Moon and the Stars of pleasure, just makes your head vibrate. After many years of watching this shit go down every 3 seconds around or in front of my booth or table at ANY given Con in the country, I put this together. Well not just me. We are LEGION. And here it is, THE REASON WHY ALL THAT, sickens us: BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT COMICS, BEYOND WHATEVER GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH YOU DID TO GET REF ON THE MOST MAINSTREAM CHARACTER WITH THE MOST REVEALING COSTUME EVER. And also, if ANY of these guys that you hang on tried to talk to you out of that Con? You wouldnt give them the fucking time of day. Shut up you damned liar, no you would not. Lying, Liar Face. Yer not Comics. Your just the thing that all the Comic Book, AND mainstream press flock to at Cons. And the real reason for the Con, and the damned costumes yer parading around in? That would be Comic Book Artists, and Comic Book Writers who make all that shit up.

The simple misogyny on display would be enough to ruin most people's view of Harris, to be honest, and to them I apologise for going further into the issue. Clearly, even writing about how great cosplay (dressing up as characters from… well, anything, really. Some great examples here) was, and how welcome female cosplayers were at comic conventions, wouldn't render the tone of this rant any more acceptable.

But the views Harris expresses aren't just held by virulent misogynists – instead, they are depressingly common in "geek culture". Too many nerds have basically internalised the stereotype of themselves as ugly, friendless losers and decided that anyone who doesn't fit that stereotype – particularly women – is a "fake geek", taking advantage of the fact that being a geek is now "cool".

The stereotype has been bubbling around various geek cultures – gamers, comics and sci-fi fans, and even niche ones like board- and tabletop-gaming enthusiasts – for some time, and a number of pieces have been written about the damage it does to women in the community. The Mary Sue's Susana Polo, for instance, says it better than I could:

I understand the desire to weed the “posers” out of your personal life and interactions. But I have never, actually, in the flesh, met a “fake” geek girl. Or guy. I don’t think those people actually exist outside of painful daytime news segments, the occasional job interview (where, in this economy, I’ll excuse anybody for trying to be a little bit of something they’re not), and internet memes. But I understand.

But who are you to say that a stranger, someone you’re never likely to meet, is not genuinely interested in the thing they appear to be interested in? Who are you? I just… what? I’m rendered incoherent. Here at the Mary Sue, when an actress goes on a talk show and describes her personal affection and involvement and enjoyment and FANDOM for geek properties, we take it at face value. Why? Because we don’t actually have a reason not to. Because the alternative breeds a closed community of paranoid, elitist jerks who lash out at anyone new.

The proper response to someone who says they like comics and has only read Scott Pilgrim is to recommend some more comics for them. The proper response to someone who appears to be faking enthusiasm is to ignore them and not project their actions on an entire gender or community. The proper response to someone who appears to want to be a part of your community is to welcome them in. End of story.

And the same applies to this specific example. Jamie McKelvie, designer of the much-cosplayed Captain Marvel, reiterates:

I've never met a cosplayer who isn't a massive fan of the thing they are cosplaying. Also: some of the sweetest people you could meet.

But here's the thing: even if the cosplayer has never read any comics other than the one they're dressed up as – even if they've never read any comics at all, and just enjoy the dressing up – it doesn't matter. Nobody is going to take your hobby away. At worst, at absolute worst, it is someone finding enjoyment in a different aspect of something you like. At best, as Polo says, it is a future friend, someone who could be a part of your community, and someone to spread your love to.

Or maybe some nerds just don't want women in the clubhouse.

Tracy Ho and Demir Oral cosplay at Comic-Con 2011. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Turkey's darkest night: can democracy survive the failed coup?

President Erdogan has hailed the foiling of the coup as a triumph for democracy, but some fear it will serve as a cover to crack down hard on his critics.

It was 3.30am and the Turkish leadership was insisting that everything was under control. It didn’t feel like it. I was backed into the corner of a hotel room in Istanbul, trying to keep away from the windows as the building shook from sonic booms made by fighter jets tearing over the city’s rooftops. Three hundred miles away in the capital city, Ankara, plotters seeking to overthrow the government had seized tanks and jets and were bombing parliament. Civilians were being mown down in the streets. The presenter on CNN Türk was narrating with admirable calm the takeover of her own station’s building.

Each new update seemed to bounce off my brain before rebounding and coming back to hit with full force. Had President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, he of such deliberate machismo, really just addressed the nation by FaceTime, on an iPhone held aloft by a TV anchor? Was my mind playing tricks when I saw helicopters strafe terrified civilians on a three-lane highway in Ankara? The significance of those dark 12 hours is still sinking in.

The first sign that something was up came with reports that the army had closed the two bridges in Istanbul that span the Bosphorus strait. Fighter jets were in the skies over Ankara. The most likely explanation seemed some kind of counterterror operation. It was just 24 hours after a lorry ploughed through a crowd in Nice and only two weeks since the suspected Isis bombing of Atatürk Airport. Turkey had been on high alert, with bag checks and armed guards at every Metro station, but there was almost a sense of resignation to terror threats.

It seemed inconceivable, though, that Turkey could face another coup d’état. The Turkish military last pressured a government from power in 1997. Knowing that his stance as the most openly religious leader in the history of the Turkish republic was at odds with the generals who saw themselves as the guardians of the secular state, Erdogan had moved to clip their wings. He launched waves of purges of the top brass after they tried unsuccessfully in 2007 to halt Abdullah Gül, a co-founder with Erdogan of the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), from becoming president.

It wasn’t until Prime Minister Binali Yildirim spoke by phone to a television station and confirmed that an attempted putsch was under way – and the military declared martial law – that it began to seem real. I rushed down to the street, where people who had been enjoying a Friday night out in the city began pouring out of bars and restaurants. They queued at cashpoints and hailed taxis home.

Most of those I met were subdued and nervous. Erdogan has many critics. They accuse him of abusing electoral landslides to rule by tyranny of the majority. But in a sign of just how far Turkey has come in recent decades, I found not one person who was jubilant at the prospect of him being toppled by force. “Whether you like him or not, he was democratically elected,” said Ahmet, a waiter smoking outside his empty café.

We now know that a relatively small, badly organised group was behind the plot, but for some time the scale of the putsch was unclear. The soldiers ordered into Taksim Square in Istanbul were soon outnumbered when thousands responded to a call from Erdogan to take to the streets. But I feared Turkey was about to plunge into civil war.

There was terrible loss of life, with at least 290 dead and 1,400 wounded. Many of those who died were civilians who showed daredevil courage, lying down in the path of tanks or wrestling with soldiers for their weapons. Yet the insurrection would be almost completely put down by morning. If you had gone to bed at 10pm and woken up at 7am you might have wondered why the streets were so quiet.

Shortly after dawn, the soldiers on the bridges over the Bosphorus surrendered. I found a taxi driver willing to take me most of the way to the first of the two, then walked the last stretch.

At the far end were the plotters’ abandoned tanks, now being clambered over by men waving flags and chanting the president’s name. About half a dozen motorbikes whizzed up and down carrying pairs of men with white beards and skullcaps, like a crew of Islamist Hells Angels. Trails of crimson blood ran along the tarmac. I later saw images that appeared to show that a captured soldier had been beheaded by the angry crowds.

Even after the confrontation was over, the atmosphere in the city still had a nasty edge, especially for foreigners. Pro-government press continually accuse Western powers and their citizens of orchestrating terror attacks and plots. Spitting with fury, eyes popping, one man shouted at me from the top of a tank: “Tell the West to stop playing games in our country.” Later in the day I was hounded out of the grounds of a hospital by a group of men, furious to learn that not only was I a reporter, I was also English.

The climate of retribution in the aftermath of the failed coup could threaten Turkey’s minorities. In four towns in the south-east, offices of the pro-Kurdish Peoples’ Democratic Party (HDP) were attacked, even though the party had come out against the coup. There were reports of attacks on Syrian-owned properties in Ankara. In these turbulent times, an aggressive nationalism laced with intolerance and xenophobia is sometimes finding outlets.

Erdogan has hailed the foiling of the coup as a triumph for democracy. His opponents fear that he will use the failed plot as cover to crack down hard on his critics and push on with divisive plans to concentrate more powers in the hands of the presidency. They argue that the speed with which thousands in the military, police and legal system have been accused raises concern about due process.

It is far from clear how things will play out. But with war raging against Kurdish militants in the south-east, growing unhappiness at the presence of 2.7 million Syrian refugees, and suicide bombings at a rate of almost one a month, Turkey is highly flammable. It feels like the beginning of a deeply uncertain chapter in this country’s history. 

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt