Gatekeeping isn’t all bad
The term “gatekeeping” has skyrocketed in usage recently. Simply put, gatekeeping refers to the active and intentional withholding of information—in this context, there also tends to be a specific emphasis on information pertaining to certain hobbies, activities, or franchises. The stereotypical act of gatekeeping tends to involve someone who is a long-time fan of a particular topic, such as baseball, Game of Thrones, or Magic the Gathering, choosing to trivialize, dismiss, or even full-on reject a person who is showing interest or asking questions about the fan’s topic of expertise. In doing this, the topic’s fandom serves as its own “security” of sorts, or rather, gatekeepers, preventing others from entering the fandom or setting a tone for the fandom and their behavior that might dissuade it. This allows a certain level of knowledge surrounding the fandom to be almost an expectation to “count as a real member.”
Before defending gatekeeping, nine out of ten times, gatekeeping is a no-go. As a more femme person who has spent their entire life with more “dorky” or “nerdy” hobbies/interests, I’ve experienced my share of gatekeeping. From my perspective, the main issue is that gatekeeping can often be implicitly or explicitly based on prejudice or stereotypes.
Historically, gatekeeping has been perpetuated by fandoms with predominantly white male audiences who actively shun those of different genders, races, nationalities, religions, etc. Gatekeeping performed for this reason is terrible in the way it perpetuates the stereotypes about “who” can be interested in “what,” as it keeps diverse voices from adding to the topic and being able to help it grow, change, or become more inclusive, and generally just seeks to perpetuate bigotry in a small, yet significant social way.
Now, having covered that glaring issue, it is time to talk about the ways in which gatekeeping can actually be permissible. Firstly is the obvious scenario: the minimizer. In this hypothetical, we are in a scenario where many hobbyists have found themself on the wrong side of, “Well, why would someone spend that much time on something like that?” or, more simply, “What even is the point?” The classic saying, “Don’t yuck someone else’s yum,” has never rang truer than in this scenario.
In dismissing a fellow human being's joy, the minimizer's right to be told about the lore, history, mechanics, or characters in any given fandom is revoked. Part of what is so hurtful about gatekeeping is how it keeps people with a genuine interest and “pull” towards a certain topic from feeling welcomed and comfortable enough to explore that. The minimizer is missing this sense of openness and wonder that, I feel, is vital for real learning; therefore, there is no reason to engage.
Secondly, this is where I might come off as no-good…please bear with me. I do think it is appropriate for early fans to gatekeep from emerging fans. This is because a fandom’s movement from more private sectors to the more general public can be very jarring for those around closer to the fandom's inception. The act of not only joining a fandom but watching it grow exponentially in a multitude of ways can be a big adjustment. It often also creates a connection between that individual and the interest that can be deeply personal and interconnected. Obviously, “newbie” fans can grow these sensations over time, but once a fandom has entered the broader zeitgeist, the “underdog story” of it all fades a little, and I feel that fandom nostalgia is lost.
To contextualize this on a personal front, I am a longtime fan of online real-play Dungeons & Dragons stream/show Critical Role. I began watching the show in March 2017 when there were only 70 three-and-a-half-ish hour episodes and not 412 (making its current runtime longer than The Simpsons). When the show’s third campaign aired on Oct. 21, 2021 and welcomed a million viewers, I felt a little on my heels. While I knew it was growing, this was the first time it had felt as though it was something that moved beyond my small, private thing to something belonging to the world. While that is a little parasocial of me, I felt a little “mighty-than-thou” in some ways, knowing I had been there for the horrendous sound quality of early first campaign episodes and battle maps drawn on graph paper with a marker. It made me protective of this show that I had dedicated so much time to and filled me with a deep desire to ensure those entering the fandom could “appreciate it appropriately.”
While, for the most part, I think gatekeeping’s negative connotation is well-deserved, it is important to note that gatekeeping and its keepers can have a real purpose. It can prevent those trying to antagonize fans from being given the space to do so and protect early fans' nostalgia for their particular interest(s). I think it is important to encourage and inform in all areas of life when possible; still, there are also times when I feel holding your metaphorical cards to your chest is understandable or appropriate.
Thumbnail photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons