Perhaps nothing shows the evolution of the modern geek quite so well as the stalwart of the James Bond franchise, Q – mainly because it missed out most of the steps along the way.
For decades, Q represented the most traditional British form of geekdom: the boffin – a middle-aged man obsessed with slightly naff gadgets, working from the hi-tech equivalent of a shed, an exasperated comic foil to our suave protagonist.
Then, for a time in recent years, as the Bond films tried to throw off their dated image to be reborn as 21st-century cool, Q simply disappeared. We had no mid-30s, trainspotting Qs, nor an overweight Q working from his mother's basement.
Q skipped the unflattering representations of nerds altogether, returning only in the latest instalment as, essentially, the kind of geek Apple design supremo Jonathan Ive would create: a Zen-like twentysomething in an on-trend chunky knit cardigan and fashionable specs. Gone are the naff gadgets, in favour of a couple of immaculately designed tools (and an incidental cyberwar).
Most thrillingly for geeks, the modern Q can hold his own when verbally sparring with our action hero – a delightful payoff for millions who dreamed of exactly that during tougher times at school and beyond.
Geeks have hit the cultural, technological and economic mainstream. Heck, just take a look at real-life MI6 job adverts (they exist) and you'll see far more looking for CVs like Q's than Bond's – the main challenge is simply whether they can pay enough.
It's a good time to be a geek. But that, maybe, makes it easier to forget what lies at the core of true geekdom – and the reality is it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with computers, or even good glasses.
The real shibboleth of geekdom is a deep, unabashed fascination with either one subject area or many: an obsession with detail, with exploration, and (frankly) with learning. This tends to trend in areas where there's a lot to learn, a lot to discuss, and a lot of ways to show off.
So comics, computers, Dungeons & Dragons and more are obvious and frequent candidates. But really, it's possible to geek out on virtually any topic you could dream of – and there'll be a group of like-minded individuals who have got there before you.
It is this kind of earnest – and often to outsiders baffling – interest that tends to make geeks lie outside the mainstream. A huge swath of adolescent culture especially prizes indifference, values success that seemingly comes from minimal effort the most, and still prizes "cool".
Hardcore geeks' formative years are rarely all that much fun – and these days the internet often becomes something of a sanctuary.
But once we get past that adolescent phase, it's not really too hard to see why geek culture can appeal to the mainstream. A fictional world rich enough to immerse its hardcore fans for hundreds or thousands of hours should be an incredibly rich seam to mine for two hours or so of mass-audience entertainment – a theory supported by the recent flux of genuinely excellent superhero movies.
(Incidentally, never try to pretend you've read the comic if you've only seen the film. A comic buff will catch you out in seconds. This is particularly true of Watchmen. Pirates, anyone?)
Given the mainstream is learning to stop worrying and love the geek, it's a shame parts of geekdom remain less accepting than they could be. Communities of obsessives are never going to be the most laidback places, and the internet is famously rough-edged, but there's no doubt some of the criticisms laid at many geek gatherings hold true: sexism and homophobia, for one.
Almost none of the communities – 4chan, Anonymous, Reddit – are as bad in these areas as they initially look: in general (there are awful exceptions) people will treat individuals far better than the community's sense of humour would suggest.
But it is a pity geekdom, a culture born out of earnest obsession seeking company, often outcast from the mainstream, has become so daunting for so many – especially when you look at two of the strongest contenders for history's greatest geek.
One, Ada Lovelace, worked alongside Charles Babbage on creating the Difference Engine – the first computer – and in many ways she foresaw its potential far more than Babbage ever did. She's generally credited as the first ever computer programmer – not the first female programmer. The first full stop.
The other, of course, is Alan Turing: cracker of the Enigma code, cryptography genius, war hero, and homosexual.
Geekdom's always been a broad church – and a suave, cardigan-wearing, cybercrime-fighting MI6 agent like Q is always welcome.
But, then again, so are you – provided, of course, you can say "shibboleth".
