The Difference Between Being “Smart” and Being Idiosyncratic
By Long Run News
How many times have you heard statements like, “This person has a master’s from Stanford,” or “They hold a PhD in economics from Harvard”? Such remarks carry an implied message: we should trust and listen to these individuals based solely on their prestigious credentials. Consider a more familiar scenario from your experience in school—someone was labeled “smart” because of their GPA or accolades. Yet there’s a critical distinction between being conventionally “smart” and being idiosyncratic—a person who thinks or acts in a uniquely individualistic way.
Today, we can no longer afford to blindly trust credentials or institutions. The elite, often products of these prestigious universities, have championed ideologies like neoliberalism and globalization, enriching a select few while sidelining the average American worker. To challenge this, we must scrutinize the frameworks of our educational system, questioning its emphasis on conformity over creativity and its prioritization of standardized intelligence over authentic originality.
To understand our elites, we must first understand how they are educated. The theoretical purpose of education is to teach knowledge that shortens the learning curve for capable individuals, enabling them to focus more time on mastering their profession. Consider mechanic school as an example. Fixing cars is a craft, and at mechanic school, students are taught techniques and shortcuts that significantly enhance their efficiency and skill.
In theory, you could learn to repair cars—or enter any profession—without formal instruction, relying solely on trial and error over time. However, mechanic school condenses this process. What might take four or more years to learn independently can be mastered in just one year through structured lessons and real-world exercises. This is the ideal of education: a reasonable and effective way to accelerate expertise.
Yet, it’s important to recognize that formal schooling is not the only path to mastery. Many have fallen into the trap of believing that expertise can only be achieved through university education and that experts are defined solely by their credentials. This simply isn’t true. You can become an expert in a field without ever having studied it formally. True knowledge and skill can come from experience, self-education, and dedication outside the walls of academia.
What, then, has become the purpose of education today? The unfortunate reality is that education is now primarily about acquiring accreditation—a degree that acts as a license to work. Most students aren’t in school to truly learn; they are there to obtain the credentials necessary to secure a job. In many universities, students learn little of practical value because the education system is not tailored to the specific jobs they might take after graduation. Instead of teaching a craft or preparing students for real-world challenges, higher education often serves as little more than a mechanism to grant credentials.
This issue is compounded by the abstract and theoretical nature of many educational programs, particularly in managerial and administrative fields. The further removed education becomes from practical application, the more it devolves into exercises in theory—detached from reality. Complicating matters, universities are often reluctant to fail students. Failing a student means losing tuition revenue, so the incentive to push students intellectually is overshadowed by the financial incentive to pass them, regardless of their competence. This dynamic fosters an environment where mediocrity is tolerated, and genuine intellectual growth is stifled.
Now consider elite liberal arts education. Every society has an elite, and that elite must emerge from somewhere. Historically, elites arose from aristocracy, with power inherited through family lines. In the United States, however, meritocracy created an avenue for talented individuals from all walks of life to rise through the educational system. Elite liberal arts institutions once served to cultivate originality and independent thought among the best and brightest. These schools were meant to teach students how to teach themselves—how to become lifelong learners capable of mastering any subject.
Unfortunately, this ideal has been largely forgotten. Today, not only elite liberal arts colleges but higher education across Western democracies have become ideological echo chambers. These institutions often prioritize propagating a single worldview—typically aligned with leftist ideologies—over fostering genuine intellectual exploration. Students are encouraged to dismiss alternative perspectives rather than critically evaluate them. Such one-sided indoctrination undermines the very purpose of education.
A truly idiosyncratic and open-minded person is willing to entertain any idea, assess its merits, and determine its validity. Education should cultivate this openness and independence of thought, but in its current state, it falls far short of this ideal.
People who are deeply ideological often lack the ability to think critically. Ideology, by its nature, demands acceptance without question. When someone is taught to adhere to an ideology, they are not encouraged to challenge or analyze it—and as a result, they struggle to argue effectively or even entertain alternative perspectives. This inability to question their own beliefs leaves them unprepared to navigate a complex and nuanced world.
Consider a simple trade, like being a mechanic. A mechanic has a specific skill set and gets hired by a firm that needs their expertise in fixing cars. The relationship is straightforward: they perform their craft, get paid, and the transaction is complete. However, as one ascends into more elite or managerial roles, things become increasingly complicated. Motivations are no longer as clear-cut, and the work requires navigating layers of complexity.
For example, if you work in upper management at a public relations firm, your task might involve creating an advertising campaign to persuade people to buy a product. Unlike fixing a car, this requires understanding human emotions, needs, and desires—and crafting a message that taps into them effectively. It’s no longer a matter of simply applying a trade; it’s about influencing behavior in subtle, intricate ways. This complexity demands critical thinking, creativity, and adaptability—qualities that rigid ideological thinking cannot provide.
Another problem with elite education is the narrow and rigid path required to gain admission to top-tier schools. It’s not just about perfect grades and test scores; students must participate in numerous activities and maintain spotless disciplinary records. The process demands such careful navigation that it stifles natural intellectual curiosity and vitality. A person who is genuinely curious and full of energy is bound to make mistakes—it’s part of being human. Ironically, the most capable individuals often fail the most, and that’s a good thing. Mistakes provide valuable lessons, fostering growth and resilience that shape more capable adults in the long run. However, in today’s system, a single misstep as a teenager can disqualify someone from entering these elite institutions. This means that the very people who might contribute the most are often excluded, while those who succeed in this rigid framework come with their own set of potentially dangerous flaws.
The profile of students who gain admission to elite universities has been distilled into a very specific type. These individuals are highly intelligent and ambitious, but they are also rigidly compliant, rule-following, and extremely risk-averse. They avoid taking any action that could jeopardize their position, focusing solely on what they know will advance their prospects. While this mindset may be well-suited for roles in risk-averse industries like insurance, it is far less effective in most other fields—especially leadership roles, where boldness and innovation are critical. Additionally, these students are often unwilling to challenge the consensus. When faced with prevailing opinions or trends, they follow along almost robotically. This blind adherence to conformity not only stifles their ability to think independently but also leaves them oblivious to absurdities that more critical thinkers would immediately question and reject.
Another notable quality of these elite students is their pronounced individualism. While ambition naturally fosters some degree of individualism—since the drive to outdo others often separates people from the pack—these students take it to an extreme. They have little sense of belonging to something greater than themselves and primarily look out for their own interests, often at the expense of others. Universities do little to foster any sense of collective responsibility or mutual support, leaving everyone to fend for themselves.
This hyper-individualism also makes them susceptible to corruption, though not always in the obvious sense of bribery. While slipping a $100 bill to a police officer is overt corruption, the kind found among elites is often subtler. For example, a CEO stepping down to take a role as chairman of a government regulatory agency overseeing their former industry is a more insidious form of corruption—one that is quietly normalized and even encouraged in elite circles. Compounding the issue is that these students often lack real-world working experience, leaving them ill-prepared to understand or navigate the broader implications of their actions.
Elite students are taught to craft narratives as a substitute for reality, believing that the ability to spin compelling stories equates to being “smart.” This approach thrives in academic environments because these elite institutions exist within insulated bubbles of privilege and wealth, often financed by staggering student loans. Within these bubbles, students can create their own “reality” and ignore the real world, shielded from critique or accountability. As a result, they end up living in a carefully constructed fantasy, detached from the complexities and challenges of life outside their academic enclaves.
The result is that these students graduate with impressive credentials but little to no real-world experience. Government agencies and corporations assume that a degree from an elite university signifies competence, taking these graduates seriously—even if they are mediocre or lack true capability—simply because of the institution’s prestige. Admission to these elite schools effectively determines who will become the future leaders of society. Those who control admissions wield immense power, as they shape the pool of individuals who will ascend to positions of influence.
Moreover, these students are singularly focused on their own advancement and will do whatever it takes to gain admission and remain in good standing at these institutions. Unfortunately, many of today’s graduates lack the ability to think critically. Instead, they parrot the ideological ideas they were taught in university, having been trained to conform rather than to question or innovate.
True creativity is finite—it ebbs and flows. While we can’t easily quantify or measure it, we instinctively know it exists. The key lies in recognizing where and when to express it. For instance, your clothing might serve as a canvas for creativity in certain social settings, but you cannot—and should not—be original in every facet of life. Selectively applying creativity is essential. Attempting to “reinvent the wheel” at every opportunity can lead to wasted effort or missed opportunities.
Think back to school. Perhaps you tried to stand out—through your clothing, your writing, or even the way you expressed ideas. Maybe you submitted a paper that was experimental or unconventional. Sometimes it resonated; other times it fell flat. The problem is that schools often don’t reward this kind of thinking. Our education system, rooted in standardized testing and rigid expectations, tends to stifle originality in favor of practicality. I’ve personally written thought-provoking, original papers only to receive mediocre grades. Instead of being rewarded, my creativity was penalized, ultimately impacting metrics like GPA that are deemed critical for success.
This disconnect reflects a deeper societal issue: the tension between individuality and conformity. The solution is not to suppress creativity but to channel it strategically. Recognize the areas of your life where originality will benefit you most—and focus your efforts there. Save your creative energy for pursuits where it matters, rather than squandering it in contexts where conformity is rewarded.
Originality is like a wild beast. If untamed, it can harm you; but if controlled and directed, it becomes a powerful ally. Reflect on the choices you’ve made—on those original ideas or projects that didn’t pay off. Consider instead how you can wield your creativity deliberately, aligning it with areas where you want to excel. By doing so, you’ll not only stand out but also thrive in a world that often undervalues the power of independent thought.
Ultimately, good judgment is not a product of high IQ or prestigious credentials—it comes from real-world experience and learning through failure. Failing as a young person provides invaluable lessons that shape stronger, more capable adults. In contrast, those who have always been risk-averse and strictly compliant, doing only what they are told, avoid mistakes but also miss the opportunity to develop sound judgment. Without the experience of making and correcting poor decisions, they grow into adults who lack the wisdom to navigate complex situations or discern the best course of action.
AUTHOR
Antonio Ancaya
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