An elegant bias

Dr Fahim Chand | Monday November 3, 2025 06:27

A sharper mind built better tools, forged tighter tribes, and dreamed beyond the visible horizon. Yet intelligence, ever restless, soon turned inward, questioning its own purpose. Perhaps evolution’s slyest twist was this: in giving us thought to master the world, it ensured we’d never stop trying to understand it, a self-perpetuating loop propelling us toward endless discovery.

And yet, while we’ve hurled metal beyond the stratosphere and bent silicon to our will, shrinking the sum of human knowledge into the glow of a screen we cradle in one hand, can we honestly say we understand intelligence?

Is it the student who effortlessly tops every exam, or the charismatic soul who wins trust and admiration with disarming ease? I could, of course, summon the most “authoritative” definition with a quick search, but it would still feel curiously hollow, as though missing the essence behind the concept.

We’ve devised tests, charts, and percentile rankings to measure intellect, but to what end? Does a higher IQ guarantee greater wisdom, wealth, or happiness, or merely a smug certificate of cleverness? Universities cling to the gospel of standardised tests, SATs, entrance exams, GPA hierarchies, believing they can distill potential into neat numerical form. And yet, one wonders if brilliance truly belongs to the prodigy at the Ivy League school, or the dreamer at a party school in some forgotten Alabama town, quietly redefining what it means to think at all. We are all secret evaluators, conducting silent intelligence audits from morning to night.

The colleague who fumbles a spreadsheet earns a private demotion in our mental hierarchy, while the friend who drops a well-timed insight gains an invisible crown.

We do it instinctively, gauging vocabulary, reaction speed, even the tilt of a brow, as if decoding intellect were hardwired into our social survival. Intelligence, or our perception of it, becomes currency: who we trust, admire, hire, date, or dismiss often pivots on this unspoken scorecard.

We gravitate toward those who make us feel sharper by association and quietly sideline those who don’t. It’s an elegant bias masquerading as discernment, shaping conversations, friendships, even destinies.

Interestingly, in the grand scheme of things, we’re both the judges and the judged, each of us courting cleverness while trying not to be outsmarted by the very game we pretend not to be playing.

Even while watching television, our silent assessments persist. Take the Kardashians, arguably the most recognised family on the planet. Love them or loathe them, everyone has an opinion.

Kim, the luminous centerpiece of the clan, is instantly identifiable: beautiful, unimaginably wealthy, and endlessly scrutinised.

But is she intelligent? That’s where bias creeps in. The world, after all, can be merciless in its assumptions. I confess, I’ve never been invested in their reality-show empire, yet credit must be given where it’s due. Kim invited the world into her living room, and in doing so, turned celebrity itself into an industry.

Many mocked her choices, particularly her partnership with Kanye West, while others marveled at her ability to spin image into enterprise. But here’s the twist: in two weeks, Kim Kardashian will be a qualified lawyer.

She’s spent six years in California’s Law Office Study Programme, logging 5,184 hours of study, while raising four children, managing multimillion-dollar ventures, and maintaining a relentless media presence. No college degree.

No shortcuts. Just persistence in heels. So perhaps intelligence isn’t what we assume it to be. Sometimes it’s not the quiet scholar in the corner, but the woman who turns the world’s spotlight into her study lamp, and keeps reading long after the credits roll.