Another day, another discussion about media where I findmyself mildly dismayed by the creative implications of someone’s choices, orlack of thought about said choices. Now, it’s always easy to Monday Morningquarterback things, and god knows there’s no need for the literary equivalentof Cinema Sins. We had that in the early 2010s, it was on blogs and Goodreads,and frankly, I’d rather leave the trend of gleeful dunking and fake outrage inits grave, where it belongs.

But that said, once in a while, I stumble across a piece ofinformation so hard to comprehend that I’m staggered by it. Often, it’s relatedto a particularly stupid bit of worldbuilding that, say, a world-famousbillionaire author who wrote children’s books did. Just as an example.

As I was discussing some particularly nonsensical creativedecisions with some friends and colleagues, however, I had an absolutelystaggering realisation about JK Rowling – one that applies more broadly, infact.

Being creative, and good at creating things, can coexistwith absolute stupidity.

A defining of terms

Some people are going to read the title of this and fire offan angry post anyway, but lend me a few moments’ indulgence before thathappens.

I should probably explain what the hell I mean. I’m nottalking about the fake, racist metrics of IQ tests. Developmental delays andbirth differences are entirely unrelated to these skills, although theysometimes have an impact on their development.

Stupidity and smartness are actually rather nebulous conceptsin English, but here, stupidity refers to a mixture of willful ignorance andstubbornness leading to overlooking things.

In contrast, the particular type of smartness people expectfrom artists is critical thought, both analytical and creative; in particular,the ability to contextualise fiction and reality.

What’s that mean?

The ability to contextualise fiction and reality can keepyou from, say, writing a cozy, sweet book about a magic school with elementsbased on real-life cultural genocide, for instance.

Stupidity can make you say “but mine’s different!” even whenthousands of people are begging you to understand that no, your portrayal of aparticular character type isn’t different or subversive enough to avoid ableistharms.

At least in the English-speaking parts of the internet I’veseen – there’s a cultural idea that being able to make stuff automaticallybestows other forms of intelligence. (I blame European colonizers for this.)

But…doesn’t artistic skill make you a genius?

Things like the Masterclass program and TED Talks areparticularly pernicious for spreading the idea that people who can make stuffare superior in some way. We often use the term “gifted” for creatives. Theproblem is, this leads people to the idea that skills in one or two areasindicate skills in all areas or most areas. Sure, people *say* “you can’t begood at everything”, but we sure as shit act surprised when someone famouslytalented turns out to be skilled at one thing and terrible at another.

The truth is, the ability to create something isn’t the sameas the ability to understand either the act of creation itself or the contextof that creation. Analysing your own work is a pain in the ass, as anyone who’sever had to write either a grant or an artist’s statement will tell you. Partof the problem is that it’s really hard to have perspective on your own work,but the other part is, a lot of people have a drive to create that theystruggle to explain.

Now, I need to underline that I don’t want to demean peoplewho struggle with the analysis and critical thinking part of creation. Everyonecan’t be good at everything, and as the world of media critics shows, there areplenty of people who can analyse things brilliantly and can’t make things worthshit.  There are others still who canteach and relay skills very well, even when they struggle to apply their ownskills. And still others are brilliant at applying creative skills, but can’tcommunicate their methods to others.

Why bring this up now?

As I look around and try to cope with the rising tide of fascism,I see a lot of people, myself included, searching for leadership and hope. Oneof the first places we turn to tends to be those we admire. A lot of people weadmire tend to be skilled in multiple areas of creation and the arts – say,Brennan Lee Mulligan, who’s a very good performer, storyteller, and roleplayer,among other things; and who is something of an online darling right now.

Don’t get me wrong; I think he’s great, but I’ve also seenthe rise and fall of creative figures before, and it’s really getting to me.Lin Manuel Miranda and Hank and John Green were similarly lionized in the 2010s,and when they made even the mildest of human missteps, or even just did thingsthat a few people disliked, it was enough to dislodge them from theirpedestals.

So what’s going on there? Next week, I’m going to talk aboutthe painfully human nature of people we admire – and why we, theEnglish-speaking internet citizens, need to absolutely chill the fuck out withour standards.

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A writer and artist, Michelle Browne lives in southern ABwith xer family and their cats. Xe is currently working on the next books inher series, knitting, jewelry-making, and drinking as much tea as humanlypossible. Find xer all over the internet: *Website * Amazon * Substack * Patreon * Ko-fi * Instagram * Bluesky* Mastodon * Tumblr * Medium * OG Blog * Facebook