This article was first published in Italian on September 12, 2026.
the cover image is a 2nd-century Roman mosaic depicting the masks of tragedy and comedy (Capitoline Museums), photo by Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
I've been sleeping badly and posting too much these days — maybe it's the more bearable temperatures of the last few days that have thrown something off in me?
Anyway, I was mulling over my (our?) tendency to divide our online presence, and not only that, into watertight compartments: changing masks Pirandello-style depending on the context, and treating certain topics only where they "belong."
Without getting lost in grand theories, this train of thought comes from my own small attempt at using LinkedIn, where I wrote a post about video games.
Self-hating nerd
Setting aside the fact that pretty much nobody follows me on LinkedIn (then again, I've never really used it much and I'm surrounded by Greek- and English-speaking contacts), I was the first to feel a pang of discomfort showing off my "nerd" side in a context where I present myself as professional and am supposed to talk about "serious" stuff.
On the fediverse, though, I tend to do the opposite: keep the "serious" topics to a minimum and lean hard into nerdy stuff.
Interestingly, I realize this has never happened to me on this blog: I've always thrown absolutely everything in here.
And it's paradoxical, because I actually like this division — I think it "protects" my playful personality, splitting it off from the real world and helping with the immersion / escapism whenever I actually dive into it.
Pop culture, soft power, and "serious" contexts
On the other hand, if there's one thing I've been preaching for years, it's how unbearable it is that pop culture — video games in particular — struggle to find a place in "serious" contexts, as if they were trivial, childish hobbies, far removed from any real-world relevance...
Only to then realize that whoever runs Donald Trump's communications uses them extensively for propaganda purposes, between retro arcade games published on the White House website and the "We really saved America before GTA 6" tweet.
That the Saudis bought EA with a $55 billion acquisition led by the PIF sovereign wealth fund.
That China has a multi-billion-dollar esports business with hundreds of millions of users.
That Macron recently spoke about it with unusual passion, announcing an international video game festival and folding it into France's cultural exception.
That CD Projekt RED has repeatedly been the most valuable listed company in all of Poland.
That... well, I don't think I need to point out how much they've mattered for Japan's entertainment industry and its soft power.
the crowd at IEM Katowice 2014 inside the Spodek arena, photo by Paul Chaloner, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Italian exceptions?
And yet, as far as I can recall, the only mainstream Italian outlet to rightly lump them in with everything else is good old Dagospia, Roberto D'Agostino's gossip site, with the column curated by Federico Ercole.
Dagospia is, incidentally, a fascinating oddity of Italian media: officially devoted to gossip and clickbait "gut" headlines, but in practice one of the most followed and read sources across both the political establishment and the general public — not bad at all for a country that doesn't tend to read much, eh?
But I'm digressing: back to the point, I realize I demand "serious" standing for my favorite nerd stuff in public debate, only to be the first to hide it the moment I put on the "professional" mask.
Quite the contradiction, huh?
So, how do you relate to your own inner nerd? Can you bring it out even in business settings, or do you keep it well hidden between a canapé and a necktie?