Raw intelligence: the ability to process information swiftly, solve problems, and spot patterns.

Raw intelligence is just one part of human capacity. It helps you win debates, write code, and optimize systems—but it doesn't necessarily help you live well, love well, or be kind.

We worship intelligence because it's measurable. You can rank it, test it, display it. But in doing so, we devalue softer, less visible forms of knowing—like emotional labor, lived experience, or the quiet knowledge earned through care and connection.

Raw, unguided intelligence can trap you. The smarter you are, the easier it is to rationalize your own blind spots. Many intelligent people seem to have the ability to talk themselves out of their own intuition. Intelligence becomes a mirror maze—it reflects back everything but gives you nowhere to walk out.

In my own life, I've found that the times I felt most free, or connected, or true to myself—raw intelligence wasn't what guided me. It was something quieter: presence, sincerity, a willingness to not know.

As a society, we seem to be obsessed with raw intelligence. We love the lone inventor myth—think Tesla tinkering in a lab—but real breakthroughs usually emerge from networks. Open-source projects grow through thousands of contributors refining each line of code. Scientific breakthroughs depend on labs sharing data, critiquing methods, and iterating together.

While individuals can spark new ideas, it's collective intelligence that fans them into flame. Our greatest progress comes not from isolated genius, but from shared insight, conversation, and iteration.

We need to widen our definition of what it means to be "smart." We should celebrate not only the ones who think fast, but also those who listen deeply, care consistently, and hold space for uncertainty.