The term “pseudo” comes from the Greek word, “pseudes” (ψευδής) which means “false.” So, a pseudo-intellectual is someone who falsely presents himself (or herself) as an intellectual. A person who is called a “pseudo-intellectual” is accused of masquerading as someone who is much more intelligent than they really are.
Typically, a pseudo-intellectual is a person who wants others to think of them as highly intelligent, while lacking the IQ to justify that designation. To create this aura, pseudo-intellectuals often use hifalutin vocabulary, and adorn their comments with quotes from arcane sources. Tanumoy Banerjee once observed, “There are two kinds of people: intellectuals and pseudo-intellectuals.” (How’s that for an arcane reference?)
Intellectuals, as the quote suggests, are the opposite of pseudo-intellectuals. They are highly intelligent people who are well-educated in a variety of fields and live mainly in the world of ideas. With their high intelligence, comes an interest in things that are not of interest to most people. Consequently, most of their friends will also be intellectuals with whom they can share interests. However, when mixing with people of “normal” intellect, they often downplay their intelligence to avoid appearing pompous or superior. The greatest intellectuals usually acquire a genuine humility as they discover how little they really know, and this enables them to communicate without pretence.
Years ago, I was attending a lecture by an esteemed professor from a top university. During his talk, he mentioned a key mathematical element that I’ll refer to as a “supertoid.” I had never heard the term, but as a graduate student, surrounded by esteemed professors, who were nodding their heads to indicate understanding, I was loathe to show my ignorance by asking for a definition. Suddenly an old man sitting in the front row raised his hand and asked, “Could you please define the word supertoid for me? I’m not familiar with that term.”
The lecturer, peering through thick spectacles, seemed to awaken from his trance, “Oh yes, Donald; How are you? Please accept my apologies for my oversight!” With that he wrote a definition of supertoid on the blackboard. The clatter of clipboards and pens emerged to record the definition that almost everyone had pretended to know.
The old man addressed as “Donald” was Professor Donald Coxeter, a world-class, widely respected geometer, who was not afraid to admit a gap in his knowledge; he was a true intellectual.
