A timely and provocative interrogation of the myth of genius, exploring the surprising inventions, inspirations, and distortions that elevate some lives to greatness and not others
One can tell what a society values by who it labels "genius." One can also tell who it excludes, who it enables, and what it is prepared to tolerate. In The Genius Myth, journalist Helen Lewis unearths how this one word has shaped, and distorted, ideas of success and achievement.
Lewis argues that the modern idea of genius—a single preternaturally gifted individual, usually white and male, exempt from social niceties and sometimes even the law—has run its course. Braiding deep research with her signature wit and lightness, Lewis dissects past and present models of genius in the West, and reveals a far deeper and more interesting picture of human creativity than conventional wisdom allows. She uncovers a battalion of overlooked wives and collaborators. She asks whether most inventions are inevitable. She wonders whether the Beatles would succeed today. And she confronts the vexing puzzle of Elon Musk, the tech disrupter who fancies himself an Übermensch.
Smart, funny, and provocative, The Genius Myth will challenge readers' assumptions about creativity, productivity, and innovation—and forever alter their mental image of the so-called genius.
Quite an interesting book about what is meant by ‘genius’ and how geniuses are made, why some people are considered geniuses and others not etc. There is a lot about IQ tests and how they were used to determine whether a person might turn out a genius or not (not very successfully). The author discusses the people who have supported geniuses and enabled them to concentrate on their work, long suffering wives etc. and she raises the question of how many geniuses might never have got to fulfill their potential because of sex, race, class etc. She concentrates on geniuses who have been difficult and demanding, and seems to prefer to ignore those who have led relatively ordinary lives. She refers early in the book to ‘the Jane Austen problem’ but doesn’t elaborate on that, Jane Austen I suppose wasn’t temperamental enough to suit her idea of a genius. Likewise she writes a lot about Picasso but not much about artists whose lives were less turbulent. I strongly disagree with her that art and architecture stagnated in the Middle Ages - the period produced glorious art and architecture. When I finished reading the book I still wasn’t entirely sure what she thought of geniuses or, really, what point she was trying to make.
Whilst it was a very good read, I’m not going to skirt around how I did find the chapter on Chris Goode deeply ironic considering it perpetuated the protective bubble of the genius myth in its sympathetic and deeply empathetic coverage. Perhaps I’m a heartless creature, but I have absolutely zero space to extend empathy towards a man who quite overtly sexually abused young men and collected decades worth of child pornography. I don’t think a man like that needed “more friends”, he needed therapy. The fact his friend promised to visit him in jail after discovering the decades worth of child pornography is abhorrent, not endearing. The sympathetic and empathetic portrayal of rich white men like Goode is why they get away with it even after death — no one calls them out for being the monsters they are. And the fact that he’s rumoured to be a possible contender for the evil rapist in Baby Reindeer well… maybe I’m not a good person and I’m cruel, but I did find the cushioning of Goode not just in this book but by the media deeply uncomfortable
When Helen Lewis's book The Genius Myth was released in summer 2025, it ruffled some feathers on social media--I know, this should go without saying; feathers exist in a perpetual state of rufflement on social media--from people who assumed it was a book about how there's no such thing as genius. They were incorrectly assuming that Lewis's title referred to dictionary definition #2 of myth, a widely held false belief or idea, rather than definition #1, a narrative used to explain a concept or phenomenon. Would geniuses make such a logical mistake? Hard to say. Lewis's book would likely have ruffled the same feathers regardless, given that her investigation of the history of arbitrarily labeling people, men primarily, as geniuses all leads directly to the present-day case of Elon Musk, whose story both begins and ends the book. Lewis's claims are compelling, even if she does try to shoehorn feminism in places where it doesn't always fit and her examples sometimes feel more random than systematic. I really enjoy Lewis's work for The Atlantic and appearances on various podcasts, where she's always a witty and wry highlight. I wish there'd been a little more humor in her book, but I'd recommend it to anyone interested in geniuses and the cultural stories we tell about them.
As some of my existing notes during my reading have pointed out, This book takes a misbegotten literary critic's approach to the Western cultural concept of genius, while it is uninterested or inexplicably dismissive about the actual question of whether there is such a thing as human genius. Her primary complaint is that this mythology, for which she provides a pop history of, creates license for a bunch of anti-social behavior and that it's inherently sexist. She mostly implies this latter point, revealing it only through snarky asides, which is her go-to rhetorical move rather than to openly defend this sophomoric claim. The immediate and fatal problem with her approach is that it's premised on a category error. Genius is not the only or most important social role for which we elaborate exceptions galore. We create license for all kinds of people for all kinds of reasons using all kinds of meaning-making social narratives (mythology). She's filing a complaint against basic human psychological and sociological tendencies. We create genius (hero) myths for many practical reasons, and these stories do useful things for us even when they also create externalities. Additionally, there are reasons to believe that our brains are adapted for this sort of thing. So debunking said stories is like walking the world stage wearing a shirt that says #NotInOnTheJoke.
Throughout the work, Lewis more or less assumes that extreme intellectual facility is not a real phenomenon. Does she bother to try and demonstrate this in any systematic way? No. Is she a blank slatist? No. She concedes that talent is real. She concedes that IQ testing can in some ways tell us some real things about certain peoples cognitive abilities. She concedes that people's genetic endowments do have something to do with their cognitive abilities. Wait a minute! She's just conceded the central thesis of Galton's Hereditary Genius, a work she greatly critiques along with the man himself. I guess that makes Lewis, wait for it, a eugenicist!!
Anyway, she tries to back away from the uncomfortable sociobiological realities that modern science has continued to re-surface empirically over and over. She pivots to some Mensa bashing and covering the well-known frauds and fools involved in the early days of psychometric and behavioral genetics (e.g. Cyril Burt, Hans Eysenck) in order to cast aspersions on certain ideas that actually continue to be the subject of mainstream research and to which she has already conceded many points. She also, of course, name checks the Flynn Effect to argue that social and cultural factors highly influence IQ testing outcomes and that high IQ scores don't necessarily generalize beyond certain abstract logical skills or whatever the test tests. The latter point is an oblique attack on the concept of general intelligence (g), which has a literature and attendant philosophical debate that she doesn't directly engage with. I think some of these critiques of IQ testing can be relevant to some of the points she makes (including the cross-national comparisons), but these really have no direct bearing on whether or not genius exists or what it is. It just boils down to a critique of a particular form of right-wing politics that is popular online.
As I hope I've made clear, Lewis' argumentative claims dynamically pivot around a normative worldview rather than arise naturally from an declared methodology. It's a polemic against the genius archetype rather than a finding or even just an innocently curious exploration of the concept. The book provides little insight at all into what genius could possibly be or even what intelligence could be. There's also a funny pop debunking of "The Great Man Theory of History," which seems itself immediately contradicted by daily news events given how much of today's events boil down to the whims of a few political leaders (Trump, Putin, Xi) and mega-billionaires. Lewis, herself, appears to lend a great deal of credence to the framework based on her writings about Elon Musk. Why even spend the time on him if what really matters are social and material conditions? The answer is, of course, that great men and ideas can matter in important and idiosyncratic ways even when the great sweep of history is unlikely to be bent by either. Nevertheless, many individuals, whose lives matter a great deal more to themselves than their concern for the great sweep of history, are deeply affected by other individuals and ideas. The extraordinary amount of talent, money, intelligence, physical prowess, power, etc that these eminent individuals may possess thus has an enormous social and material gravity. This state of affairs won't be changing.
P.S. She barely touches on the lives of the many historically famous geniuses. She only does so when there is a particularly popular myth about their lives she can debunk (e.g. the Gauss classroom story). Meanwhile, she studiously avoids some of the more uncontroversial examples including John von Neumann and Srinivasa Ramanujan. Curious. Why would she do that!?
I received this book as part of a Goodreads giveaway.
This was an interesting read, but (after reading the text) I was still unsure exactly what the author wanted to present. There are good arguments for why some people are considered "genius" and others not as well as good cultural explanations. In the end the author states that "there are many seeds of genius in the world. We must nurture as many as we can" and yet directly prior she says "we should be humble about where those qualities can be found." How is the average person to recognize genius if the author of a book on genius seems to not know if, and how, genius manifests itself and how to celebrate it.
2.5 stars. Thousands of words that ultimately added up to a whole lot of nothing.
Additional thoughts:
I came across Helen Lewis on the podcast circuit years ago, which is also where I heard her first discuss this book as an analysis of how the conception of genius reflects what a culture prizes at that place and time. Unfortunately, that's not what this book ended up being. Mostly, it's just an excuse to complain about Elon Musk, praise the Beatles, and regale a list of asshole-intellectuals who made everyone around them miserable. Lewis never comes out an says what the obvious conclusion is--that academic intelligence doesn't often correlate with social intelligence--and instead just sort of rambles on, never really answering the question of why so many brilliant people become obsessed with conspiracy theories about IQ and Judgement Day beyond sheer arrogance.
Many popular history books are written by journalists rather than historians, and there's a very good reason for this. A journalist has to be a good writer and communicator to be successful, whereas many historians write in a way that is too technical or inaccessible for a general audience. One problem with journalists writing history books, however, is that they tend to come in with a political bias, and a presentist one at that. The inordinate amount of time devoted to Elon and the Beatles is one example of this, but there are others, such as Lewis' claim that the eugenics movement was "right-wing." She takes great issue with the Great Man Theory, which posits that history is shaped by a handful of remarkable individuals, and insists that it has been thoroughly debunked. Many historians have turned against the Great Man Theory because of the way it deifies elite white men, this is true. But if you want evidence that this theory has not been resoundingly discredited, try approaching it from the other side: would the arc of history have bent the same way had someone like Hitler or Stalin never lived? It is as much a mistake to discount the role of the individual as it is to overlook the apparatus that supported them.
Weirdly, Lewis then does a 180 in the last few pages, claiming that the people need geniuses as cultural inspirations. Yet nothing that came before this supports this conclusion. As the subtitle shows, The Genius Myth: A Curious History of a Dangerous Idea is an argument against the very concept of genius. What Lewis appears to really be saying is that people need heroes. But that's a different quandary altogether.
Malcom Gladwell and Walter Issaacson are a scourge against wisdom because of their hagiography and fictional framing of reality and this author relies on their narratives by demonstrating the danger of myth-making of genius and anecdote as reality.
I’ve stopped reading Gladwell and Isaacson since they pervert reality and the author has a good thesis but it gets swallowed by her sources.
I usually don’t share publicly my distaste for Gladwell and Isaacson because it’s an iconoclastic position that is not widely held. Half of the anecdotes in this book could have come from those authors.
To be very clear, Helen Lewis is not trying to say that genius does not exist. She's written a hard critique of the mythology that we've adopted around genius, the stories we tell about what qualifies as genius and who gets the label. The ancient Greeks and Romans defined talent as something that was temporarily bestowed on people from the outside, a limited gift from the gods. These days, Western society has decided that genius is a deterministic quality of special individuals, who will display their specialness from a young age, and will be talented their entire lives at all things. With those impossible standards to live up to, is it any wonder that as much as we love anointing geniuses, we also delight in debunking them?
This book starts and ends with Elon Musk, a great, current example of the genius myth at work. Is Musk an engineering genius who was a big part of reviving the space industry and growing the market for electric cars? Or is he an entitled man-child promoting conspiracy theories on social media and throwing tantrums every time someone disagrees with him? Both stories are two sides of the same coin: the mythology of the Great Man, lone rebel, mad genius. The truth is more complex. Musk is both a talented engineer who runs some great companies making cars and rockets and a major jerk, but he's not talented because he's a jerk. Lewis' book examines how we flatten these complex stories about the complex lives of complex people into a simple tale that both elevates genius into a type of sainthood, and neatly excuses the rest of us from not being that creative, or achieving those heights. She also shows how we tolerate and justify the asshole (and sometimes worse) behavior, conflating it with the talent.
A good chunk of the book examines what Lewis dubs the scenius, the collaboration, supporters, infrastructure, and environment that support the "lone" genius. Musk benefited from not only $28,000 from his father to start his first company, he greatly benefited from starting that company in Silicon Valley at the time he did, not to mention all the dedicated employees who have worked for his visions over the years. Without wife and fellow artist Lee Krasner, "Jackson Pollock would probably have been nothing more than a non-functioning alcoholic." (pg. 191) The Beatles ceased to work when Paul McCarthy and John Lennon could no longer maintain the fine balance between their collaboration and their competition.
Another major focus of Lewis' book is why we declare some people geniuses, while equally smart and talented people are overlooked. Lennon was the genius and McCarthy often dismissed, even though it was that special chemistry between them that led to The Beatles' greatest songs. Lewis has an entire chapter explaining how Lennon fit the preferred story template better, including dying tragically before his time, and how that story was relentlessly promoted. That's also why you can't help but know about Musk, but you've probably never heard of Tim Berners-Lee, the creator behind the World Wide Web. "Without Tim Berners-Lee, there would have been no Twitter for Elon Musk to ruin." (page 18) But, Berners-Lee leads a quiet life, whereas Musk "performs the cultural role of genius with apparent enthusiasm: saying odd and provocative things, espousing extreme work habits, maintaining an unusual personal life, drawing attention to himself with salty tweets. Love him or hate him, we can't stop talking about him."
Lewis is a staff writer for The Atlantic and her book is written at the level of long-form journalism in a conversational style. Like lots of journalism, it's more broad than deep, but very accessible and a pleasure to read. (Although, as usual for me, I really wish it had an index.) It's a good blend of history, analysis, and cultural critique, explained well with humor and British ironic understatement.
What if we identified genius in specific actions or works instead of more broadly labeling an individual associated with the action or work as a genius? What if genius is more the result of the right collaboration at the right moment in time? What if we are mistaking single acts of genius as a sign of broad intelligence denoting expertise in all fields? Do we glorify the idea of genius and allow a host of ill behaviors by those who exhibit it, making them a special class of people? This book explores how the answers to these questions may very well all be a resounding yes, debunking mythology surrounding individual geniuses while still valuing their unique and incredible contributions to the world.
With the way the book was structured, it never felt like the author presented us with a specific, cohesive formula for what makes a genius. The reader is left to read the whole book and piece together what is and isn’t genius, and why- it never felt explicitly defined. Thus, in trying to explain this book to others, I’ve got lots of anecdotes to refer to, but no digestible takeaway.
An Engrossing Examination of a Concept that has changed a lot.
The subject of genius is a fascinating one. Helen Lewis looks at the history of the word. It’s earliest meaning was a a thing that happened to people. Ordinary people would suddenly be animated by the sprit of genius and their achievements would rise above the usual. Lewis argues that after Vasari wrote his account of the great artists in renascence Florence, genius became something you could be, a quality you are born with. And that is how it has stayed ever since. Once she has established this Lewis takes us on a whistlestop tour of modern ‘genii’, not just one’s we’ve heard of but ones that never were, only were because someone told them they were, or were but did something so bad they lost the unofficial title. She takes examples from the worlds of the arts, literature, and modern tech bros (but never sport which she does apologise for as it’s due to a lack in her knowledge and not the lack of genius in those fields). I found this book really enjoyable and I would recommend this to anyone with an interest in modern history and current affairs.
I walked straight into the trap here, I thought this was about some people who were, or weren’t, genius, in a biographical way. But isn’t! It’s about the flawed way we apply the word, which I’m on board with. Interesting read, took me a while to get momentum but I enjoyed it. Tis all a social construct! But then what isn’t…
I absolutely loved this book and hope everyone reads it. Helen Lewis wrote about a topic that’s extremely important in this day and age, which is what we consider “genius” to be. She instantly hooked me by discussing the idea of Elon Musk being a genius in the intro, and then she started going through the history of various people who have been considered geniuses. She critically discusses why these figures were called geniuses and why we need to challenge that idea.
My only critique is purely personal preference, and it’s that I wish it used a few more modern-day examples. I didn’t know who most of the people were that she discussed, so it was cool learning about them. But I do wish she touched on more people from recent years aside from Elon Musk. Again, that’s nothing against this book because it’s just hard to sell me on historical stuff. At the end of the day, I highly recommend this book because there are far too many public “intellectuals” held in high regard, and they’re not as smart as people think they are.
I wanted to read something truly epic for my 300th book of the year, and I believe I chose perfectly. Not only has Helen Lewis created the most fascinating and enlightening non-fiction book I have read this year, but it is likely the most impactful book I have ever read. She delves deep into the world of academia to establish this hardhitting piece of literature that completely alters our perception of what a genius actually is. She opens up the mythology of the genius to expose the actual human cost behind it. Without the invisible support that quietly stood behind some of history's most celebrated names, their achievements would have amounted to nil. Sadly, in order to cultivate the myth of the genius, all the collaborators, wives, parents with financial support and inside connections, all these people must be quietly erased so that the average person assumes that all achievements and accolades belong to one super human individual.
This is one of the most interesting and maddening books I have ever read. No one's shortcomings should be excused, and no person's eccentricity should be ignored based solely on their academic prowess. A genius asshole is still just an asshole. 😂 This should be mandatory reading for all of society!
I get the arguments against common societal nature to forgive so called brilliant but flawed people (a whole chapter devoted to Elon Musk for example) but I don’t get what’s the point of this, or any meaningful takeaway / application we are supposed to have from this. Don’t bother, just a read summary of this book.
There are maybe two or three decent chapters in here, but it goes on and on and on without saying much. you don't get the impression that there is a clear thesis, or that the author is worth listening to, honestly. She spends a lot of time describing movies that she's seen, and at times it feels like a lot of Wikipedia paragraphs copied and pasted together.
Still, I'll give it two stars because there were a couple of decent chapters, particularly in part two, which was almost shocking in its coherence, when compared to the first part. There may be a decent long form article here, if you clip the three or four best chapters and slap them together, but that's it.
This book has its share of hits and misses. Despite the political biases present, the author did a great job describing the problems associated with the label of genius. She provided a great historical narrative about past influential figures in the arts and sciences. She discussed their successes and their flaws in equal measure, but it felt like she only scratched the surface about the psychology behind intelligence. She didn't provide any deep insight into the complications between intelligence and achievement.
Before college was more accessible, having a high IQ from an IQ test was like having an advanced degree in a way. Although this inflated people's egos and caused them to become more solidified in their opinions, even if they were incorrect.
IQ Tests and Standardized tests are both activities that favor the left hemisphere of the brain which focuses on tasks that are related to logic, sequence, and categorization, but these tests neglect emotion, creativity and connection which are associated with the right hemisphere of the brain. It is also important to consider that all of the people discussed in the book came from Western Europe or the U.S. which are both cultures that are individualistic, so people are more likely to be influenced by individuals such as celebrities, and geniuses fall into this category. Western audiences are also captivated by stories of individuals. Currently, the most popular songs on the charts are by individual artists, not bands.
If I could summarize this book in a few sentences it would be:
High IQ doesn't translate to real-world achievement. Because someone excels in some domains does not mean they will excel in all domains. Environment and circumstances play a role in success just as much as innate ability.
Honestly, I wanted to love the book. The organization was very poor, there were like 300 names referred to in the book. I would’ve loved a deeper dive on a few and then left us to make our own conclusions. You can read the first and last chapter and basically get the gist of everything. Wasn’t for me!
It's easy to enjoy a book when you wholeheartedly agree with its central argument but the fact that this book is engagingly written and offers a wide range of examples across time and disciplines definitely helps too.
I think that this book is a really good read. In particular, I like the way it deconstructed the mythology and the ethical dimensions around intelligence and genius. Despite not being anyone of note--having been identified at a young age as "Gifted and Talented" as a result of being forced to do Raven's Progressive Matrices in High School, and then into adulthood discovering I am autistic and developing a passion for many subjects I wished to study academically--I have found the expectations and myths surrounding intelligence have been pervasive in influencing the behaviours of myself and others interested in academic topics. Many of these myths are either based on pseudoscience or connected to deeply harmful ideas of exceptional "natures" connected to an individual person, which grants permission to treat people in many awful ways. I believe that deconstructing this myth is part of an important political project that identifies the factors which actually contribute to human creativity and intelligence, such that we can go about creating a more just society which promotes more of us to our flourishing through the creation of systems which are conducive to those ends.
A lot of people who engage with topics related to intelligence create epistemic blind spots by presenting their inquiry as though it is simply a matter of science, and not in any way connected to political values. This book makes no such mistakes and that is absolutely to its merit. -- There is a place for "intelligence research" in psychology, but "IQ" is so intimately connected to quite frankly lazy and draconian measures and ways of understanding causality and human behaviour that I believe those lines ought to be entirely deconstructed in the manner done in this book so that the research conducted can be understood in more theory-neutral terminology, rather than engaging in hasty-theorisation about just what is being measured, and then concluded, as the upshot of the whole field of research being so deeply entrenched in a political-historical project. Of course, some intelligence researchers are cautious in this way, but a great many are not.
I particularly enjoyed the author's discussion of the ways in which the unpaid labour of great women taking up horrible burdens of dealing with abusive men who felt entitled to a particular lifestyle and level of support based on their "greatness", and I found the discussion of how Patriachal norms enabled women to be silently oppressed in this way and has allowed their essential (either enabling or, often, necessary) contributions to many "great" products of intellect to go completely unrecognised. -- This has prompted me to engage with the authors book "Dangerous Women" which I am enjoying immensely so far.
Having a great Philosophical interest in Wittgenstein, though he is not extensively discussed in this book, I could relate many of the tropes from this book to the way he was essentially abused by his ludicrously wealthy father into believing he had to be a "great man" in line with the author's deconstructed genius myth(s). In particular, knowing the extent to which Wittgenstein was influenced by the sort of Melancholic, un-tameable, un-bearable, miserable but intense personalities of Otto Weininger (discussed in the book), Schopenhauer ( not discussed in the book), and in particular Tolstoy (discussed in the book)--whose 'Gospel in Brief' gave Wittgenstein in the trenches of WW1 a model by which he could "convert" to Christianity and be an "intense" genius-styled religious thinker marrying the technological and logical progress of the early 20th century with a kind of religious mysticism-- I could clearly see how this mythologised pattern influenced Wittgenstein, whose two brothers had comitted suicide under the pressure from their father to become great men and who himself was probably autistic/neurodiverse, into many unhealthy ways of narrativising his own philosophical projects which, in my opinion, overall harmed him and the impact/influence of his work. I believe that had he not been surrounded by enablers such as Bertrand Russell and John Maynard Keynes essentially leaning into the tortured-genius myth so carefully deconstructed in this book, Wittgenstein could have been psychologically supported in a way that would have led to his own flourishing, having a greater impact, more productive output, not annoying or driving away as many people and not harming as many people he came into contact with as he did. Given the author's exposition of the lives of many historic Geniuses, I suspect this pattern holds for most.
Brilliant Debunking: Lewis Expertly Dismantles Our Most Seductive Cultural Myth
Helen Lewis has written a provocative and necessary book that challenges one of our most cherished beliefs: that exceptional individuals are the primary drivers of human progress. As Lewis observes, "You can tell what a society values by who it labels as a genius. You can also tell who it excludes, who it enables, and what it is prepared to tolerate." This insight forms the backbone of a work that's both intellectually rigorous and surprisingly entertaining.
The Atlantic staff writer and BBC podcast host brings her trademark wit and analytical sharpness to bear on a subject that touches everything from Silicon Valley culture to artistic achievement. Lewis doesn't argue that exceptional ability doesn't exist—rather, she interrogates how we identify, celebrate, and mythologize certain individuals while systematically overlooking the collaborative networks that make innovation possible. Her analysis reveals that "behind every individual genius is a crowd and a big PR machine."
The book's strength lies in Lewis's ability to weave together historical analysis, cultural criticism, and contemporary case studies. She traces how the concept of genius has evolved from divine inspiration to a marketable personal brand, showing how this transformation has distorted our understanding of creativity and achievement. Her examination of figures like Elon Musk is particularly incisive, demonstrating how genius status in one domain can be leveraged into unearned authority across completely unrelated fields.
Lewis's writing is accessible without sacrificing depth, making complex ideas digestible for general readers while offering fresh insights for those already familiar with the territory. Her exploration of "scenius"—the collective creativity of communities and movements—provides a compelling alternative framework that better explains how breakthrough innovations actually emerge. The Beatles chapter alone is worth the price of admission, revealing how much of what we attribute to individual brilliance was actually the product of circumstance, collaboration, and cultural timing.
The book occasionally suffers from trying to cover too much ground. Some arguments about the gendered and racialized aspects of genius attribution could benefit from deeper exploration, and certain sections feel rushed despite their importance. Lewis also sometimes struggles to balance her critical stance with fair assessment of genuine achievement, though this tension is perhaps inevitable given the subject matter.
Despite these minor limitations, "The Genius Myth" succeeds as both cultural criticism and intellectual history. Lewis has created an essential text for understanding how we think about talent and success in the modern world. The book will change how you view celebrated figures and, more importantly, how you think about the collaborative nature of human achievement. It's a timely reminder that our obsession with individual brilliance blinds us to the networks of support, influence, and circumstance that make all accomplishment possible.
The Genius Myth delivers a compelling takedown of our culture’s obsession with lone, superhuman brilliance. Rather than worshipping figures like Einstein or Steve Jobs as if they were born destined for greatness, Lewis demonstrates how their achievements were the products of networks, mentors, access to education, and historical timing.
She touches on the historical bias that genius was only possible in white men, of western culture, and that preferably, they should have lost a parent at an early age and be stricken by a (rich man’s) disease like gout by middle age. Arbitrarily limiting the possibility of who can be a genius to a certain race, gender, and socioeconomic class.
Thomas Edison, portrayed as a solitary inventor, was in reality the head of a 40-person research lab—essentially the first R&D department. Likewise, Mozart, often treated as the archetype of innate genius, is reframed through the years of intense training enforced by his father and his exposure to an unusually rich musical environment from infancy. Lewis torches the idea that talent appears fully formed.
Expanding on this she lays out the idea that many of those who we have assigned the term genius to have had an incalculable amount of support from loved ones such as spouses and family members, and that without such support, they may not have been able to devote the time necessary to their projects to meet the threshold of “genius” in their master works. This should obviously be an uncontroversial take that should be nearly axiomatic. No man is an island, even geniuses, and I think this is something that doesn’t get nearly enough attention. Many of the greatest human achievements have only been possible because of support and collaboration, whether through support given by loved ones, colleagues, or patrons. But for some reason when it comes to geniuses, it is something we love to pretend doesn’t exist.
Just as powerful is the critique of a genius's talents being universally recognized, instead of as a product of what is valued at a certain time and place. Would Pollock, Musk, Edison, or Davinci be thought of as geniuses if they were transplanted to classical Greece or found themselves in the Roman principate or ancient Egypt? Even assuming these societies did value the same things as we do today, could these mythic figures replicate their successes with the resources they had access to in such a context?
She also touches on how the opinions of a “genius” are viewed, even outside their field of expertise. By and large, society views their skills as transferable, even when it clearly shouldn’t be due to the media and public reinforcing the myth behind their genius. Musk is a gifted engineer and entrepreneur, Stephen Hawking was a gifted physicist, and Steve Jobs a great marketer. Yet for some reason most people are convinced that their views on psychology, economic policy, demographic patterns and their downstream effects are just as relevant as their core disciplines.
Overall a very enjoyable read, even if her analysis was more broad in her arguments rather than delving deep into any point she touched on.
This book has a fairly simple premise, and yet it’s a bit subtle and difficult to summarize. The myth referenced in the title is not exactly that genius doesn’t exist, nor that genius can’t be quantified (Lewis, thankfully, does not dispute the validity of IQ tests); it’s more about the superhuman narratives and celebrity status ascribed to “genius” characters, which describe fictional accounts of the human being. These human beings are typically outstanding in some or multiple respects—for example, Thomas Edison, Francis Galton, or Stephen Hawking—but popular culture regards these figures as somehow more exceptional than they are, at least outside their domains of expertise. That these people’s outstanding abilities have limits and often don’t translate well across domain can create an unrealistic character in the public’s mind, causing us to inaccurately value these people outside their domains of expertise.
Oftentimes, these mythological accounts are due to specific circumstances of the person’s life—e.g., Hawking’s achievements despite his debilitating degenerative disease. Some people, like Elon Musk, are regarded with competing claims from opposing sides—those who regard his insane social/political descent as part-and-parcel of his brilliance because of his hard-to-deny engineering and business achievements, and those who discount these achievements because of his unhinged political activities. Lewis points out that both arise from the “genius myth”; the more rational position is to acknowledge his legitimate achievements and yet condemn the unsavoury activities.
Another important contribution of the book is Lewis’ excellent point that many historical genius figures are regarded as such because of the under-acknowledged help that freed them up to pursue their contributions—most notably in the support from their wives. If, for example, Tolstoy had to do his laundry, cook his meals, run errands, etc., would his “genius” achievements materialized? It’s a fair question.
Lewis concludes by warning against regarding specific human beings as geniuses, as it endangers us from becoming blind to their flaws in other domains of life. Instead, if we must retain the term, it’s better to regard specific contributions and actions as genius. I think this is a much better way of thinking about genius in a cultural sense. Of course, quantifying intelligence still has utility (indeed, predictive validity), but we shouldn’t think of IQ scores as surrogates for good judgment across the board.
Overall, this was a sobering, refreshing, relatively balanced view on a topic that has a lot of cultural relevance. Recommended.
This is a very interesting book about geniuses and how they are perceived by society, particularly how both minor and major eccentricities are often excused—and in some cases even celebrated. The discussion of genius as a historical concept, and how the perception and definition of what constitutes a genius have changed over time and across cultures, was especially engaging. I particularly appreciated the description of the ancient understanding of genius, where it was the work or achievement that was considered brilliant, rather than the person who created it. This stands in sharp contrast to today’s view, in which genius is far more closely tied to the individual.
The book draws on numerous examples of people—most often men—who have been regarded as or labeled geniuses. These examples bring the narrative to life and make it more relatable. At the same time, it was also fascinating to read about the many people these geniuses are often entirely dependent on in order to do their work. Without such support figures, neither their lives nor their life’s work would have been possible. These “enablers” are frequently women—mothers, sisters, or wives—who have often been overlooked or given very little credit.
I found the final section, which focuses on Elon Musk, particularly compelling. It explores how Musk appears to actively cultivate his image as a genius, and how he continually voices opinions on a wide range of topics across various platforms—often far removed from his actual area of expertise, which is primarily technology and engineering. This is presented as a recurring pattern among many so-called geniuses: the tendency to speak with authority on subjects outside their competence, while still being listened to and taken seriously simply because they are perceived as geniuses.
The book therefore challenges a persistent misconception: the idea that a genius is not only intelligent and innovative within their own field, but also possesses exceptional insight across all disciplines. The fact that this belief remains so prevalent today struck me as problematic and, at times, unsettling.
Although the book was thought-provoking, I did not find it especially strong overall. I would probably have rated it somewhere between three and four stars, but it ends up with four—simply because half stars are not an option. 😀