Take The Last of Us, for example. Today, the first game is treated like a masterpiece—hailed as one of the greatest video game stories ever told. But if you were around when it first launched, you’ll remember the backlash. People accused it of ripping off ‘The Road’ and ‘Lone Wolf and Cub’. There was even controversy about Ellie looking too much like Ellen Page (now Elliot Page). And that was the good game! The one that was well received.
Then came Part II. And hoo boy. Leaks. Hate mail. Boycotts. Death threats. I repeat: death threats. And for what? A fictional story about fictional characters in a fictional world. The actress who played Abby became the target of one of the most toxic online campaigns in gaming history—because people couldn’t handle a muscular woman breaking their favorite toy. My god how much the internet complained about Abby's muscles! And now? apparently the TV version of Abby doesn’t have enough muscles! are you kidding me? We’ve reached peak “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
But The Last of Us isn’t an outlier—it’s a symptom of a much bigger issue.
Look at Star Wars. The fandom that once united generations now feels like a battleground. Every new release is dissected, dragged, and declared “the worst thing since the prequels” or “a betrayal of George Lucas’ vision.” The same fans who once defended Jar Jar Binks from the attacks of the previous generation of fans, now relentlessly attack Daisy Ridley or the cast of The Acolyte. You can’t win.
Rick and Morty? Same story. A brilliant, chaotic comedy hijacked by its own fanbase—one that literally rioted over a lack of Szechuan sauce and harassed writers off Twitter. It’s like the smarter the show, the dumber the discourse becomes. I'm Toxic Rick!!!
Even Dungeons & Dragons, the ultimate playground for creativity and imagination, isn’t safe. Players love the game but despise the company behind it. The moment Wizards of the Coast makes a move—whether it’s a rule change or a licensing update—the internet erupts. People treat business decisions like personal betrayals. Because again, it’s not just a game. It’s our game. (Edit: Sure, WOTC made some absolutely terrible decisions, I won't argue with that. But you can always play your favorite edition, they didn't delete those from existence)
You see it all the time, a game studio announces a feature someone thinks might be political, and suddenly the game is being review-bombed before it even launches. It doesn’t matter if the devs poured their hearts into it—if the subreddit says “boycott,” it’s scorched earth.
Oh, and did I mention “Rings of Power”? Probably best if I don't.
I'm not saying nerds are bad people, far from it. I think all of this stems from the same place: too much love.
We love these worlds so deeply, we feel a sense of ownership. But that love mutates. It curdles. We turn into hyper-critical watchdogs, quick to condemn, slow to forgive. It’s passion weaponized. And it’s exhausting.
We say we want new stories, but we punish creativity. We say we want authenticity, but we freak out over every detail. We say we want representation, but we tear it down when it doesn’t match our personal version of the lore. The Internet is a fickle monster.
And I get it. I’m guilty of it too. I’ve had strong opinions. I’ve yelled at trailers. I’ve posted angry takes. But I’m trying to do better. Because the truth is, none of this gatekeeping, none of this anger, none of this toxicity actually makes our favorite things better.
Being a nerd should be about celebration. About community. About joy. Not about who's “Right”.
It’s like we can’t just watch things anymore—we need to analyze, critique, dissect, rank, and rage. Sometimes it feels like modern fandom is less about loving things and more about arguing over who loves them the right way.
But here’s a wild thought: maybe we don’t have to do that. Maybe we can remember why we became fans in the first place. Maybe we can celebrate adaptations for expanding the story instead of tearing them down for not being carbon copies. Maybe we can stop sending hate messages to actors for playing characters that upset us. Actually, we absolutely need to NOT do that! Don't do that! what's wrong with you?
The dark side of the nerd is real. But so is the light side. We can still be passionate without being poisonous. We can critique without condemning. And maybe, just maybe, we can let creators create—so we can keep having nice things.
Live long and prosper, dudes!
