You’ve got to hand it to director J.J. Abrams. He has largely kept the details of his forthcoming film “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” under wraps.

Actually, you don’t have to hand it to Abrams. For all I know, you might prefer to give him the back of your hand.

Here is one of the ways I lost what innocence I had left in recent years. I found out that many people actually like spoilers, which are leaked or purloined details about unreleased or largely unviewed books, movies and TV shows.

Whatever viewers think about them, spoilers must leave the creators of those books, movies and shows wondering if building suspense is an outdated pastime like building bicycles where the front wheels are four times bigger than the back wheels.

The word “spoiler” might be synonymous “freebie” or “bonus” for many folks, but it didn’t always have a positive connotation.

While there are many things in the world that we want to spoil – cheese, yogurt, kimchi, yogurt-based beverages and kimchi-based beverages – the word “spoiler” as it applies to leaked entertainment intel was meant as an aspersion at first.

In recent years, however, a number of online pundits have claimed that knowing everything about a movie or show before you view it actually improves the experience of viewing it.

This reminds me, for some reason, of a line from Whit Stillman’s movie “Metropolitan,” spoken by Princeton English student Tom Townshend: “I don’t read novels. I prefer good literary criticism. That way you get both the novelists’ ideas as well as the critics’ thinking.”

In 1990, this theory was meant to strike viewers as, at best, naive. Today, some viewers might very well conclude, “Hey… that’s a good idea.”

It has become increasingly common for studios to release “spoilers” voluntarily, even eagerly (usually in the form of trailers so packed with plot details that they are like the Cliff’s Notes version of the film).

Thanks to the clout and tenacity of Abrams, I know next to nothing about the plot of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” and that’s just the way I like it.

I like mystery. I often wish I knew less going in, which is why I drink so heavily before, during and after events. To maximize the mystery.

Abrams’ stinginess hasn’t stopped cybersleuths from poring over every clue. They’re not just speculating; they’re craving confirmation. “Just tell me I am right,” they seem to be saying, “so I can stop not knowing!!!!!”

The Hollywood Reporter recently posted a column by Graeme McMillan in which the author complains about something related to the new “Star Wars” film, but it’s hard to tell what exactly.

He’s tired of “Star Wars” fans’ fixation on finding out what’s in this latest installment before they see it, but he seems more inclined to admonish Abrams than the fans.

McMillan says “Star Wars” itself is to blame, that the franchise has driven “exhaustive speculative culture to this new height.”

I’m not so sure.

In one of the most widely shared defenses of spoilers, Esther Inglis-Arkell of the Gawker blog site, io9, writes that her impatience to know “what happened” makes it impossible for her to enjoy anything while it is happening.

“Some readers turn the pages anticipating the next wonderful surprise,” she writes. “I get too frustrated at not knowing the surprise to care what’s happening in the book, or the movie, or the TV show. When I get spoilers, I can sit back and enjoy the story in front of me, not checking my watch and waiting for everyone to get to the point.”

See, now that reads less like a defense of spoilers than a diagnosis of Inglis-Arkell.

At the risk of playing armchair psychologist and armchair sourpuss (which is at least one armchair and one sourpuss too many), I am just going to go ahead and assert that Inglis-Arkell suffers from digitally induced ADHD.

She’s not alone. We’re all impatient to “get to the point” these days because there are so many more points than there ever were that we are expected to get to.

In her defense of spoilers, Christina Vasilevski of Xojane.com admits to reading a lot of plot synopses of TV episodes in advance, or in lieu, of actually watching the shows (shades of the aforementioned Mr. Townshend there).

She claims, among other things, that this practice helps her better “understand storycraft.”

This raises several perplexities.

Why would someone who is too impatient to wait for a story to unfold want to understand storycraft?

Also, I think she is confusing expertise in storycraft with expertise in plotsynopsiscraft.

Lord knows – the Internet sure could use higher degrees of plotsynopsiscraft.

Some of those online synopses read like they were translated from Chinese by an ether addict who is recovering from a concussion.

Vasilevski and others also claim that spoilers spare them the disappointment of plot twists that don’t live up to their expectations.

I don’t know what it says about us that our plot twists now require trigger warnings, but whatever it is, it ain’t good.

Before I dive headlong into spoiler snobbery, however, let me write that it doesn’t really bother me that a lot of people are seeking out spoilers.

What bothers me is that some of them are starting to assume that we all love spoilers as much as they do.

It has become increasingly difficult to avoid spoilers because people are much less averse to sharing them.

My only recourse is to do even more drinking.

It is a solution of last resort, but it just goes to show how much I love “Star Wars” (or, as I sometimes pronounce it, “Shtar Warsh”).

(Editor’s note: The author’s drinking is judicious and sporadic)