For some people, being surrounded by those who seem to learn more quickly and understand concepts more readily is mentally draining, while for others it’s energizing. Why the difference? For those of us who see themselves as lacking in intelligence, watching others succeed where we struggle erodes our self-concept and creates a negative, self-defeating state of mind. For those of us who regard themselves as intelligent, living in an environment of highly intelligent people is stimulating and inspiring. The difference in the response of these two types of people is more closely connected to their self-concept than to their actual intelligence.
Why are most intelligent people energized in an environment composed of the highly intelligent?
Most intelligent people are interested in learning new concepts, ideas and expanding their horizons. The best place to acquire this learning is in the company of those who are most informed and excited by these issues. Deep conversations about existence, philosophy, literature, music and science are exhilarating to those who are endowed with curiosity. Such conversations are rarely discussed in depth by most people.
How can those who feel intimidated by highly intelligent people become energized?
Many people believe that intelligence is a simple linear scale like height, whereby any two people can be compared. But intelligence, unlike height, is multi-dimensional. The oratorical intelligence of Martin Luther King is different from the musical intelligence of Mozart and the capacity for abstraction possessed by Einstein. Each person is unique in their set of skills and proclivities, and those who may show superiority in one particular cognitive area, may be lacking in another. Avoiding contact with those who seem to have special cognitive gifts, is a formula for stunting one’s own intellectual growth. Almost everyone, including those of high intelligence in various areas, is reluctant to be seen as unintelligent or unknowledgeable, because perceived intelligence is an important component of our self-concept.
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, because his reputation was intact. The “take-home message” in this anecdote is that we are all uninformed in most areas of human knowledge because what each individual knows is a tiny fraction of what is known. The critical issue is how we deal with our lack of knowledge.
