Being Smart is Dumb
Before I start this week’s larf fest, I just wanted to react to the recent/ongoing mass shooter situation in Maine. (Mass shooting! Hilarious way to open the piece, Brendan!)
As Americans, we’ve become accustomed to this sort of thing happening on the regs. This one is hitting me and my circles a little harder because of the proximity to our New England roots. I was born in Maine and many of my family and friends call Maine home or spend a significant amount of time there. It’s generally seen as a gorgeous, sleepy part of the country (because it is) and this sort of thing just isn’t supposed to happen there.
There will be the typical “Gun control now!” and “No, it’s mental health!” debate. It’s generally a one-sided argument meant for distraction that will end up going nowhere. This story has a bit of a wrinkle because the shooter apparently was recently in treatment for hearing voices commanding him to shoot people. So a bit about what the mental health community (of which I used to be a part) can do about this sort of thing:
Not much.
Here’s the thing - in the mental health world, we run into people with command hallucinations all the time. How it works is this:
A person gets identified as being a threat to themselves or someone else.
They are involuntarily held (usually for 72 hours depending on state law) while the medical professionals give them medication to manage the symptoms.
If it takes longer, a judge can order they stay longer. But still, it is usually a matter of more days, maybe weeks.
The person gets medical treatment to manage the symptoms and reports they are no longer feeling unsafe.
They are released with a referral to continuing care, usually therapy and medication.
And… that’s it! Whether the person does the therapy or takes their medicine is up to them. Because they are an adult with free will. We don’t lock up someone for the rest of their lives (anymore) because they temporarily have treatable symptoms.
So the anti-gun control crowd: the mental health system can’t prevent this. Sorry. If you’re really interested in solutions, stop ringing that bell. But I have a sneaky feeling you’re not.
Ok! Thanks for indulging me! On to this week’s non mass shooting-related article:
To begin, I present one of my favorite exchanges from one of my favorite movies Broadcast News:
Paul: It must be nice to always believe you know better, to always think you're the smartest person in the room.
Jane: No. It’s awful.
In addition to being top notch comedy writing from the master James L. Brooks delivered with genius timing by the amazing Holly Hunter, this line always struck a chord with me. Because - and I hesitate to even write these words because it’s sort of taboo to say it - I feel it’s time to confess something of which you may have heretofore not been aware:
I’m smart.
(You can tell because I used the word “heretofore.”)
Right off the bat, you may have some discomfort with the general idea of me declaring my “smartness.” And I get it. Believe me - as weird as you feel reading it, I feel double as thorny writing it. But let’s be honest - intelligence varies. There are smart people and dumb people and a whole lot of in-between people. I’m on the smarter side of things. This isn’t a value judgment. I don’t think I’m better than anyone because I’m smarter than them, except my friend Madden who I just want to punch in his stupid face!
I always grew up feeling smart. At every level, school was easy for me: high school, college, and even grad school. To be clear, it wasn’t “easy” in the sense that I coasted through with no effort. I still put the hours in to do all the assignments, papers, and exams (both oral and rectal). But that just took energy. It wasn’t “hard” in the sense that I had trouble understanding things. That part always came easy to me.
I’m not bragging, by the way. There was literally nothing I did to earn my intelligence. It was just one of the gifts I was born with, like a good singing voice and natural aversion to sunlight. My parents were both very smart and their brainy genetics passed on to me and my equally smart (in totally different ways) brothers. Plus, I was fortunate enough to be raised in a safe house with no significant trauma, loving support, and an environment that nurtured the living crap out of me. It was the perfect recipe for a smart kid. Boom. Smart kid. Right there.
A few qualifiers: there are of course different kinds of intelligence and I am not smart in every category. My math is decent but I’m not particularly technologically or mechanically inclined and have a hard time with the non-written parts of learning foreign languages. My memory and recall was excellent at one time, but middle age has put a swift and frustrating end to that shit. My verbal, musical, and emotional intelligence are probably comparatively well above average. But overall - I tend to achieve fairly highly in every area of my life. I work hard but not as hard as I suspect most people have to. Due to my completely unearned intelligence, most things come rather easy to me.
Sounds great, right? No. It’s awful. Or at least not all it’s cracked up to be in many ways. Here are just a few of the weird and often unpleasant things about being smart:
Your teachers are dumber than you. Remember when we thought our teachers knew everything? And then it turned out they were mostly dumb as fuck? And they were in charge of opening our minds? Scary. To be fair, I’d say about half my teachers from middle school through grad school (aka “18th grade”) were intelligent, caring educational professionals. The other half ranged from frustratingly inept to damage-inflicting morons.
How old were you when you realized you were smarter than one of your teachers? I was 10. I distinctly remember having the moment in my 4th grade social studies class where I thought “Oh my God - these teachers are really dumb!” Still, I was a respectful kid of adults so I’d still go through the motions of the whole ‘student-teacher’ charade. But it’s not a fun feeling to have the “adults know what the fuck they’re doing” illusion shattered at such an early age. Although I suppose it does prepare you for adulthood when every boss you ever work for is significantly dumber than you - an experience smart people suffer through on the regs.
You’re not sure about anything. In my experience, intelligence tends to often be paired with open-mindedness and curiosity. While these are considered good qualities, it can be incredibly frustrating when you are compelled by your brain to explore all sides of an issue. I have no opinion of which I am more than 51% certain. I have this annoying compulsion to understand multiple points of view until my head is spinning and I just want to punch Madden in his stupid face!
I envy people who are sure of things. Look at them with their adorable, convinced faces. They just have an opinion and they feel completely sure about it. It must be so relaxing. I can’t remember the last thing I felt 100% positive about. Maybe my distaste for Jimmy Fallon? But again - you can’t deny his on-air likeability. Maybe I am judging him against an outdated standard of what comedy is supposed to be? I don’t know! I don’t knooooow!
You realize you’re actually dumb compared to really smart people. This is a tricky one to explain, considering that I just told you how smart I feel most of the time. But when you think of yourself as smart and then meet someone really smart - hoo boy. That’s a kick in the ol’ pre-frontal cortex, innit? My entire self image just collapses in seconds. Oh, look at that. Turns out I’m an idiot. The literal one thing I had going for me - up in smoke. Fun!
When I meet someone super smart, they are like a wizard to me. I tend to follow them around like the drooling village simpleton, begging them to wave their magic smart wand on me. It’s very sexy. They love it.
You tend to be less optimistic about the big picture. Here’s the thing: being smart isn’t very comforting. Good critical thinking tends to disqualify you from most of humanity’s salves like religion and spirituality and pie-eyed optimism. (Fact: most Nobel prize winners identify as atheist.) When you’re smart, you tend to notice the holes in people’s logic when they say things like “Everything happens for a reason” (it doesn’t) and “Karma, dude!” (No such thing. Sorry.)
And it sucks! It’s like everyone around you gets to keep believing in Santa Claus. I wish I could still believe in Santa Claus! That sounds amazing! But once you realize that the whole Santa thing was sinister collaboration between the toy companies and Big Chimney - you can’t unlearn that shit! Knowledge is power? Nah - knowledge is misery.
You spend a lot of time waiting for people to catch up. I am aware of how arrogant this sounds, but it’s the truth. Smart people spend a lot of their time frustrated. We sit in classrooms and meetings and workplaces just… waiting. Waiting for people around us to figure out what we’ve already figured out. We learn pretty early on that there is no point in trying to hurry the process along. We’ve just got to wait.
Once again - this is not a value judgment on those people. In no way do I think I’m “better” than someone because of this completely unearned ability to quickly process and problem solve. I had a harder time with this as a cocky young shit, but these days I genuinely value people’s contributions, points of view, and experiences. I love learning from everyone, regardless of their gifts and deficiencies. But it takes patience. Slowing down your brain to be part of a group is a skill smart people have to learn.
But when you get to be in a group with other smarties? Oooo… it is glorious. It is like being on an open highway with the pedal to the floor and no speed traps for miles. I never feel freer than when I’m shooting the shit with smart people. Especially smart funny people. It doesn’t happen often enough, but when it does - it’s brain crack. (I guess regular crack is also brain crack. Maybe I’m not that smart after all.)
Are smart people less happy? That might be an oversimplification. Personally, it is tough to separate out my experience as a smart person with good old run-of-the-mill Irish Catholic depression. But there is something to be said for ignorance being bliss. I’m not sure if I’d be happier as a dumb person. But I don’t know - they seem pretty happy, don’t they?
Boogie Writes is a completely independent endeavor by one hard-working funnyman trying to make his way in the world today (which takes everything you’ve got.) If you like what you read, please subscribe, support, and tell a friend! Also - do you need advice? Of course you do! Send your queries to brendan@brendanboogie.com with “Dear Boogie” in the subject and get some solid or at least passable advice!