“As you can see, I have memorized this utterly useless piece of information long enough to pass a test question. I now intend to forget it forever. You’ve taught me nothing except how to cynically manipulate the system. Congratulations.” – Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
I have a confession to make. I’ve been keeping something under wraps for so long, and I think it’s time I let you, my readers, know my truth.
I am “unintelligent.”
I know, I know, it’s a bombshell. I’m completely dumb. I’m not very bright. This has been something hammered into my head by fellow students, some teachers, camp counselors, you name it[1]. Never mind that I have my master’s degree in cybersecurity policy, or that I can speak conversationally in a couple of languages, or that I’ve got a quick wit and a “wink-wink” style of writing, or that I’m a creative person who let her mind wander into different stories and internal creations, or…
…
…waitaminute.
Irony aside, this idea of “intelligence” is a rather narrow convention, don’t you think? Because I make connections that others might not consider, or that I try to bring levity to the areas where I work, do not automatically make me unintelligent. It may make me a different kind of intelligent, but definitely not unintelligent. If we tend to judge intelligence by how we personally understand another person, mixed in with a sprinkling of the idea that some people are just somehow smarter than we are[2], then very few of us can really be uniformly called “intelligent.”
One of my absolutely favorite things is the Bill Watterson comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, and Watterson’s unique view of the world as seen through Calvin’s eyes. One thing that really struck me in my years of reading the strip, however, is the commentary on the United States educational system[3] and how it routinely equates intelligence with the ability to memorize things. I spent weeks memorizing the quadratic equation and speeches from Hamlet, and I can safely say that I have only used one of those in my life since high school (and it ain’t the quadratic equation).
Calvin is seen as unintelligent by his peers, his teacher Miss Wormwood[4], and sometimes his parents, particularly when he is judged by his report card and inability to do his homework. Yet he shows an amazing aptitude for complex concepts, particularly in the field of art (case in point: Snowman House of Horror). He lives in a rich imaginary world, playing the role of many different characters, like Spaceman Spiff and Stupendous Man. He manages to turn a simple cardboard box into many different tools, like the Transmogrifier, and is an entrepreneur, selling “a swift kick in the butt.[5]”
Calvin is an intelligent little boy, but the educational system is almost rigged against kids like him, those who wish to learn things that actually interest them and could lead to innovations the likes of which we couldn’t even fathom. Memorization is a useful skill, but it should not be a key element of intelligence. For example, I know the words to the Bonanza theme song[6], but other than if I ended up on Jeopardy, is that really going to help me in the long run? I’ve known people who have gotten straight A’s in school, but they don’t have an original thought in their heads. Could those people really be considered intelligent? Should they be considered intelligent?
There’s been talk in foresight circles of changing the traditional four-year college degree process to something shorter, cheaper, and far more effective. Personally, I could see that changing earlier, and believe that changing it at either a high school or middle school level could help with many issues plaguing the current educational system. Many teachers feel burned out, as they are overwhelmed with high numbers of students, low numbers of resources, and flagging interest in several topics, regardless of how many imitations of Robin Williams’ character in Dead Poets Society they cultivate. That’s not to say we upend everything kids should learn, but we need to make it a mix of things they need to learn, and things they want to learn. My high school experience would have been a lot better if I hadn’t been stuck with trigonometry and had been allowed to take a creative writing course instead.
The key problem is that we discount people’s intelligence before they get a chance to even pursue it. As I mentioned earlier, it had been hammered into my head by many folks that I was unintelligent based on my personality – I tend to smile a lot. It’s generally seen that personality does play a factor if someone is seen as intelligent or not: someone serious and stoic is seen to be more intelligent, while someone boisterous is just…not. And that’s not just a false equivalency, it’s just stupid. And those kids who get labeled as dumb from a young age for something completely erroneous either take a long time to recover and claw back their confidence, or they resign themselves to perceived stupidity while more mediocre minds reign supreme, which is detrimental to the world as a whole.
In the end, to create change, we need to address the root cause of the definition of intelligence. We all make mistakes. We all do things accidentally (and sometimes maliciously) that we shouldn’t. But we judge intelligence on things that have nothing to do with intelligence in the first place. We need to step back from our personal feelings (i.e., “That person is so dumb [because I don’t like them]”) and start nurturing those people, young and old, who may see the world differently. Those differing viewpoints, and the acknowledgement that they exist, are a key element of any foresight team, and should be a key element in hiring practices in every industry. Maybe once we reconfigure the idea of intelligence, we’ll realize how smart we really are.
[1] Though not my parents. They may not always get me, but they never thought I was dumb.
[2] Like Einstein. And every creator of an MLM in history.
[3] And possibly systems in other countries, but let me speak to what I know. Feel free to let me know in your country what the educational system is like.
[4] Which is a clever nod to C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, one of my favorite books.
[5] Because let’s face it: how many people do we know who need one?
[6] Thank you Cheers.
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