Wired refers to readers of the magazine collectively as “techno-intelligentsia” (Olcese 2004).
This technology scale helps separate the in-group from the out-group, but it also stratifies the network workplace from within. Within the ingroup of techno-intelligentsia, status is merit based; it is achieved through skillfulness and knowledge. But not just in any field; as “Microserfs” (Coupland 1994) reveals, reverence is held for skills and knowledge that go to the heart of network technology, such as programming. Referring to his superior, named Shaw, the narrator of the story says, “One grudgingly has to respect someone who’s fortysomething and still in computers—there’s a core techiness there that must be respected . . . My only problem with Shaw is that he became a manager and stopped coding. Being a manager is all hand-holding and paperwork—not creative at all. Respect is based on how much of a techie you are and how much coding you do” (Coupland 1994; emphasis mine). Hence, creativity—in this case, the ability to write codes well—becomes a virtue that “great men” are expected to possess. It is neither capital that commends respect, nor power, nor going up the ladder of management, nor even being a good businessman. It is not even dexterity as such that commends respect. It is only those skills that engage directly with network technology that serve as criteria for social stratification.
In that respect, it is interesting to note the figure of Bill Gates. In “Microserfs,” it is made clear that Gates is revered (at least by Microsoft workers) not for his money or power but for his high level of techiness. The protagonist of “Microserfs” talks about Gates in almost transcendental terms: “The presence of Bill Gates floats about the Campus, semivisible, at all times . . . Bill is a moral force, a spectral force, a force that shapes, a force that molds.” The aura of Gates seems to radiate to more than just technological realms; among the community of Microsoft workers he is a cultural icon as well: “I bet if Bill drove a Shriner’s go-cart to work, everybody else would, too.” Elsewhere in the story, after having the rare opportunity of meeting with Bill Gates, one of the protagonist’s coworkers reports, “People forget that he is medically, biologically, a genius. Not one um or ah from his mouth all lunch; no wasted brain energy. Truly an inspiration for us all” (Coupland 1994). According to “Microserfs,” then, Gates is such a prominent figure not because of his social power but because of his techiness. Other attributes of Gates—his being the richest person in the world, the proprietor of one of the largest, most influential global companies, and a person of global political clout—are suspended; in the lingo of the digital discourse, Bill Gates is simply a nerd. And in the Microsoft universe he is certainly the nerd of all nerds.
In a world built on rational, ordered, logical lines of code, the nerd is (seemingly the antihero, but in reality) the cultural hero, and being labeled as one is invariably a superlative (recall “nerd wealth”). To be a nerd is first and foremost a pronouncement of computer skills. Fondly referring to his brother, the narrator of “Microserfs” acknowledges, “He was way better with computers than I was. He was way nerdier than me” (Coupland 1994). He goes on to theorize the connection between a personality type and work; here the identity of the nerd is presented as intertwined with information work and technology: “Nerds,” he says, “over-focus . . . it’s precisely this ability to narrow-focus that makes them so good at code writing: one line at a time, one line in a strand of millions” (Coupland 1994). The digerati are not simply a class; they are a caste, based on a race of technologically savvy individuals, of nerds. As another passage points out, what started out as a derogatory label in the 1970s for the socially unfit, the “underdog,” came to be hip and prestigious in the 1990s, not least of all because of the fact that “now nerds run the world!” (Coupland 1994).
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Media and New Capitalism in the Digital Age