Why Sherlockians Are Jerks

 You know how the day job goes. Management can just be really stupid.

I was pondering that everyday irritation today, and my mind wandered to Sherlock Holmes, as it often does. Like so many that come to Sherlock Holmes fandom, something in Holmes feels relatable, a kindred spirit, who likes to solve a problem, maybe do a dramatic reveal, or just spend some relaxing time wading through some books and papers looking for patterns and revelations. And, like Sherlock Holmes, I don't really want to lead or follow, just see where the road takes me.

But those who do decide to lead, whether for ambition, salary, or both, are not often Sherlock Holmes. And a Sherlockian mind, given to analysis, finding the hidden problems, the flaw in the master plan ... well, if there's a criticism to be found, a Sherlockian mind will find it.

In at least one adaptation, a point was made that Sherlock Holmes's powers of observation could be a curse, as he constantly was taking in too much information. That bit overlooked his great ability to focus his attention, as symbolized by the iconic magnifying glass, and ignore the rest. But as the same time, if cracks in anything were in front of him, he was going to see it. Sherlock Holmes saw a lot of stupid.

But he was also kindlier than we shall ever know. He didn't mock everyone he met, and a lot of times did it in clever, under the radar ways. He certainly could have been a lot more of a jerk than his worst screen portrayal, because he had the ammunition. So much ammunition. But he kept his quip-shooter holstered more times than not. Even if it could be devastatingly penetrating when it was used, the silence of its non-use was much more common.

We're not all like that, or relate to that, of course. There are plenty of sweet and kind Sherlockians out there. Some who love Holmes as Watson loved Holmes, admiring without identifying.

And then there are the jerks. Sherlockiana has more than a few jerks. And we attract jerks, because the light bulb to our moth-like path is Sherlock Holmes. And while we all know we're not as smart as Sherlock Holmes, though we aspire to be, we don't all know that we're not as kindly as Sherlock Holmes. Some of us as quite blind to that side of self-awareness. 

And you know who really, really hates the jerks among us? 

Other jerks. Because when you see the flaws in every diamond, you can't miss the big shiny showstopper with a big old glob of yuck on it.

Yet Sherlockians all are we who do love Mr. Sherlock Holmes, whatever the reason. Just some of us are jerks. And the title of this essay really should have been "Why SOME Sherlockians Are Jerks," because so many among us are just sweeties. But I used the shorter, click-bait version to get you to read it, because, you know . . . I'm just a jerk.

"Sherlockian, Promote Thyself!"

Y'know, an introvert can fake extroversion, but inside the charade, does one ever actually change? 

One of the regular features of the Sherlockian Zoom meeting has become the open announcements segment, where events, club meetings, new offers, and general promoting can be done. And I avoid those like the plague. Not that I'm not doing things people might want to know about on occasion. I just don't want to talk about it. 

The reasons for promoting things is obvious: You want to increase the involvement or participation on a thing, be it selling a thing, getting attendance for a thing, or just trying to get people to know a thing exists. Increasing the numbers. But here's the thing . . . Sherlockiana is not a hobby that typically generates big numbers for deep dives. Sure, you can get a whole lot of people to watch a movie or TV show with Sherlock Holmes if it's well done. But how many people actually read an article about the types of Victorian pipe tobacco that Sherlock Holmes smoked in a particular pipe, no matter how cleverly it's written? You can't even go by circulation counts on that for a given journal or newsletter, as not every subscriber reads every article. It's not a number that gets many digits.

And the algorithms do not favor Sherlockiana, in an algorithm based internet.

Be niche enough, unique enough, and the searches may just find you. Or pretend to. There are ways to do such things, but is this hobby really so important it needs all that effort spent on pushing when you could spend the effort doing something you enjoy.

The thing is, after a time, you notice that we're all in a small pond where the biggest fish aren't that much bigger than the other fish. Sure, you can say "Oh, this celebrity from the world outside comes into our pond sometimes!" (Or a lot, if they're really cool.) And they can seem like a bigger fish in our small pond. But the pond is only so big. And a lot of fish in the pond are actually purposefully ignoring that parts of the pond exist, for whatever reason.

Sometimes it's enough to just let your friends know about something, because that's who you did it for anyway. Even introverts like their friends. The rest of humanity can just get annoying, and who wants to do customer service for those bits of humanity if they aren't getting what you're doing?

Of course, the flip side is that one could be nice and just let people know about a thing they might enjoy, even if you aren't looking for fame and fortune climbing Sherlock's coat-tails. And that's really the reason to promote a thing to fellow fans of the great detective. That's just being a good person.

Which one has to occasionally talk one's self into, even if it means writing a blog post to do it. 

Will I even post a link to this blog post on my own social media? We shall see.

That BSI Thing 2026

On Friday night, the Baker Street Irregulars held their annual dinner meeting at the in New York.

Now, for some of us, whether by choice, lack of invitation, or price tag, we don't wind up participitating. Does it make us less a part of the American Sherlockian community? Not in our eyes, but in the past, it really has seemed like there were those Sherlockians who felt that if you didn't do New York, you weren't a true Sherlockian. Manage to get invited to the dinner, get to New York, dress up, and show up there until those who make the choice decide to make you a member of that group or cease to invite you. 

It wasn't always so. The very first year I attended the event, I got to get on the pay phone next to the restrooms and tell my friend back in Peoria that he had been made a member of the Baker Street Irregulars, even though he had never attended a single dinner. It was a great acknowledgement of his contributions to the Sherlockian community of that time. And it came with no price tag, no mandatory attendance, but with the idea that the Baker Street Irregulars was about all Sherlockians, and not just those who could manage a trip to New York. 

I've always held on to that idea, even though I've been told that's not the case on more than one occasion. Sometimes you want to believe in the big tent and the better angels. And those kind of beliefs can make you snarky and cynical on some days, but inside, you still believe, or else you wouldn't be so.

The BSI weekend in New York has become so much more than the BSI dinner. Calling it "the birthday weekend" is probably more appropriate as group after group has staked claims to this meal or time for their part of the weekend. You can still go and enjoy New York and Sherlockians without ever being invited to the elder, original Sherlockian society. And people do.

But a little New York vacation, for those who aren't within a few hours of the city, is a definite luxury. When folks wish we had more younger Sherlockians, we don't account for said younger Sherlockians starting careers, raising kids, or generally living lives that don't include the travel budgets of retirees who have just finished successful careers. I can think of a few younger Sherlockians off the top of my head, as worthy of recognition as anyone inducted into the Baker Street Irregulars this year, who just won't be seeing New York for a while. It just seems like there should be a place at the table for them, even if they can't come to an actual banquet table in New York City.

I've written something similar to this editorial for decades. It probably hasn't helped matters, as a little pushback often makes gatekeepers just fortify the gates. But it has to be said.

Just because there aren't enough seats in a New York banquet room on a given night of the year doesn't mean we shouldn't acknowledge that "Baker Street Irregulars" as our forebears called all fans of Sherlock Holmes are everywhere on that single Friday night of the year.