As usual, the tormented prophet mistakes nihilism for truth, rather than having the wisdom to recognize it as a deeply personal, subjective interpretation.
I sometimes wonder whether philosophers like Nietzsche and Kafka were genuine seekers or carefully placed snares designed to catch those who think deeply, but not quite deeply enough. They seem positioned along the path to enlightenment, not to illuminate it, but to ensconce travelers in a web of doubt and pointless despair, perhaps, right at the edge of revelation.
In many respects, they resemble the very insects Kafka portrayed, though not just any insect. They are more like spiders that trap and devour purpose, meaning, and joy.
It’s not that I fail to grasp or appreciate the nature of the challenges they propose one might encounter. Nor do I dismiss their characterizations or analyses out of hand. It’s their interpretation of the consequences and their framing of those consequences as inevitable to which I object. These are, after all, profoundly subjective conclusions, not universal thresholds of insight, and should neither be projected onto others as predicates to understanding nor internalized without serious reflection - if at all.
The misery of these thinkers may, in the end, be an indelible warning not to avoid the path entirely, but to carry better tools to interpret the terrain when walking it. The goal after all is to stare in to the abyss without being consumed by it.
Anyone who has taken a stroll through a forest with someone who does not enjoy nature will understand.
That’s a compelling perspective — and I appreciate the nuance in distinguishing between descriptive analysis and prescriptive inevitability. You're right: thinkers like Nietzsche and Kafka often hover on the edge of despair, and if read uncritically, their words can feel like cul-de-sacs rather than signposts.
But perhaps their value lies not in offering the final word, but in clearing away comforting illusions. Nietzsche didn’t stop at nihilism—he saw it as a necessary stage, a spiritual detox before the emergence of new values. And Kafka’s bleak landscapes often point, subtly, to the absurdity of blind obedience, not to despair for despair’s sake.
You're absolutely right that their conclusions are subjective and shouldn't be internalized wholesale. But as you suggest, with the right tools—discernment, irony, resilience—they can serve as warnings rather than destinations. They help train the eye to detect existential dead-ends so that one may choose, deliberately, a path toward light.
Your forest analogy is spot-on. The experience is shaped not only by the terrain but by the lens we bring with us. The same abyss that consumes some may be the crucible through which others are forged.
I worry that many people are exposed to these ideas much too early, before they have had time to acquire sufficient maturity, knowledge and experience. They perhaps then accept them prima facia, lacking the bulwark from which to argue otherwise. It’s an existential hazard.
Once entrenched it is much more difficult to disentangle oneself than having avoided the pitfalls altogether, especially if these ideas have sufficient time to gestate after exposure. Viewing each new experience through the blemish of this lens will only reinforce their gravitas.
If I gave you my glasses and you wore them around long enough you’d eventually be unable to see without them. Yet you wouldn’t be seeing the world as it is but as I see it. Perhaps then these ideas should come with a Surgeon General’s warning since they are, in a very real sense, a prescription.
Let me put it this way, if I had to journey into the dark recess of the existential forest I wouldn’t want Nietzsche or Kafka holding my hand. If you can relate, I suspect you see my point.
Interesting. I see things from a different angle - possibly because I’m not intelligent!
Sociability comes from extroversion and solitude from introversion as a primary quality. I say primary because in my view high intelligence is prevalent but all the features interpreted as herd mentality are a combination of controlling behaviour (imposing social ritual), indolence (choosing not to lend much thought to deeper meaning) and a particular form of selfishness that seeks to reduce the world into simplicity for convenience. Call me a cynic.
The reason why I lend more thought to life is secondary to my preference to solitude from an early age not because I think I can process things better. Brilliance and learning disability do exist but in the main, unless distracted by strife/emotional trauma or commitment, people choose to allocate thinking time to life and this gives the illusion of intelligence
This view makes a distinction between academic (computational) brilliance and intelligence that is related to introspection. To my mind they are distinct. The view ascribes greater agency and expects greater deference but arrives at the same end point: resentment. To me, many people may appear less intelligent either due to convenience (others’ social awareness will absorb my indiscretion), disinterest or other expressions of selfishness. You may think now I’ve shifted to emotional intelligence but to me people are emotional by default so the real distinction is time allocated to introspection
Then there’s the issue of autism. There is probably a link to solitude in many who do not fit the full criteria but in my view that does not stop you lending more thought to your environment.
Thank you for sharing this — it's a deeply introspective and nuanced reflection, and I don’t think a lack of intelligence is anywhere near the issue here. Quite the opposite, actually. Your distinction between academic (or computational) brilliance and introspective intelligence is particularly resonant. That split often gets overlooked in conversations that equate intelligence with performance, rather than depth of thought.
You're right that solitude tends to give space for introspection, and that this can lead to a more critical or layered view of the world. Whether it's due to temperament (introversion), neurodivergence (such as traits associated with autism), or simply personal preference, that solitude often creates the conditions for richer inner dialogue — though not necessarily greater peace.
I also appreciate your take on social behavior as sometimes being a product of convenience or conformity. In a way, you're describing an intentional simplicity — not due to incapacity, but perhaps because of a prioritization of comfort, efficiency, or emotional economy. It’s a reminder that what we interpret as “intelligence” can be shaped just as much by circumstance and values as by raw capability.
Your point about time — that the true differentiator may be how much of it one allocates to introspection — is especially powerful. It reminds me of the idea that wisdom isn’t just what we know, but what we’re willing to sit with.
The tension you mention — the expectation of deference, and the resulting resentment — is very real. Those who look deeply at the world often feel out of sync with it. And yet, perhaps that discomfort is also part of the terrain we must learn to walk, rather than escape.
Thank you again for adding such depth to the conversation.
So true! We are living this. We’re extremely unpretentious “academics” (esp. Joey with PhD) in a shared building with GED-educated peeps in power. What a continual struggle to figure out how not to threaten them. It’s funny that we seem to threaten without ever mentioning credentials and I don’t think we’re condescending at all (because we both had down to earth childhoods - Joey’s dad was a farmer - and both of us having to work in corporate America at some point). Also appreciated your reference to Rustin Cohle character in True Detective — absolute best season and best thing McConaughey’s ever done !
Thank you for sharing this — I can imagine how complex and frustrating that dynamic must be. It’s often not the credentials themselves that create tension, but the quiet presence of thoughtfulness or depth in environments that reward surface-level control or familiarity. Sometimes, just being reflective, inquisitive, or quietly competent can be perceived as a threat, even when there’s no trace of condescension.
What you said about your backgrounds really hits home — when people come from working-class or grounded roots, it gives them a kind of dual fluency: the ability to navigate both academic and everyday spaces. But that also makes you especially attuned to how fragile egos can be when power isn’t backed by insight.
And yes — True Detective Season 1 was lightning in a bottle. Rustin Cohle was such a brilliant example of a character who stares into the void without blinking, but still carries a deep undercurrent of compassion beneath the detachment. A rare portrayal of existential weight without cynicism.
You're not alone in walking that fine line between humility and inadvertent disruption. It’s a tough balance, but also a powerful position to be in — even if it comes with its share of friction.
Amazing article. Really thought provoking. I especially appreciate some of the nuanced arguments raised in the comments. It's a good reminder that much of what's written on substack is subjective, and often meant to introduce different ways of thinking rather than offer fixed conclusions.
While I agree with much of the article, I found the reflections in the comments helpful in showing that the consequences described aren't inevitable for all deep thinkers, they can be seen more as tools to guide rather than outcomes to accept.
Thank you so much for this insightful response. I really appreciate how you've framed the piece—not as a set of hard truths, but as a lens through which to explore a deeper reality. You're absolutely right: the experiences I described aren't universal or inevitable, and the comments have added powerful nuance to that conversation.
My goal was less to issue a verdict on intelligence and more to explore the emotional and philosophical tension that often comes with it—especially as thinkers like Nietzsche and Schopenhauer saw it. I'm glad the comment section has become a space for alternative perspectives, since part of what makes ideas meaningful is how they interact with real people's experiences.
Thanks again for engaging so thoughtfully—it reminds me why I write.
A thought: there is a difference between power and force. POWER comes from those who have deeply plumbed their own soul/psyche and faced their own demons. FORCE comes from those who don't have the courage to go on the inner journey; they compensate by throwing their weight around, amplified by technologies at their disposal.
Mao's saying "political power grows out of the barrel of a gun" is wrong; force comes from the barrel of a gun - as we see all too well these days. Power comes from a place of deep soul integrity.
The intellect is one of several faculties of consciousness; there is also inspiration, intuition, instinct, imagination, 'soul' -- when the intellect works 'as a team' with other faculties, then you get power. When the intellect works on its own and tries to compensate for 'not listening' to the other faculties, then the output is usually raw force. None of our current so-called leaders are powerful; they're just forceful. Force breeds violence; power breeds courageous actions. Forceful people are just bullies; powerful people are respected -- whatever their IQ.
Thank you for this thoughtful reflection — the distinction you draw between power and force is profound and timely. True power, as you say, is rooted in self-awareness and inner integrity, not domination. What you describe reminds me of the tension between authentic leadership and performative control — one uplifts, the other suppresses. Our culture often mistakes volume for depth and control for wisdom. But real influence doesn’t shout; it resonates. I completely agree that the integration of intellect with intuition and soul is what gives rise to meaningful action. In a world obsessed with force, inner power is revolutionary.
Thank you for such an eloquent summary-feedback - I admire your clarity of writing. "But real influence doesn’t shout; it resonates." That's a great take-home line. Best regards, Josh.
I think this is only true in a dystopia. That's to say, a world which is run by and for stupid people (as is the case at present). Stupid people of course, by virtue of their stupidity, are not equipped to understand reality, but are intelligent enough to know they don't understand it, and that terrifies the shit out of them (call it also spiritual immaturity), and so their underlying insecurity forces them to seek power and control (of the material kind, because they aren't intelligent enough to comprehend the spirit). As a corollary, they ostracise the intelligent, because such people are dangerous to them.
Notice also how the stupid people's ideology is expressed in judaeo-christianity, which murdered the spirit and suppresses intelligence.
This is the psychohistory of how dystopia comes into being. Nietzsche understood this I am sure. Today, they would call him a conspiracy theorist. But he'd still be completely right.
For a bit of hope, it is logically possible to create a utopia in which the intelligent are in charge. You'd have to be ruthless to bring it about, though, and it would require 'intelligent people of the world, unite!'
Forgot to add - one of the aspects I like about your essay is that you make it quite clear that intelligence is multifaceted, and entails the most important traits of intelligence, namely spiritual, psychological and emotional (social) intelligence. These traits lead to compassion, which makes for the ideal ruler.
For the intelligent person, however, who is prevented from fulfilling this rightful role in society, it does lead to despair and self-ostracism. These sorts of feelings then lead one to proclaim stuff like 'pity in a man of knowledge is ludicrous, like sensitive hands on a cyclops'.
Equally so, we can see how the insecure, lacking in intelligence, create dystopian ideologies to prevent those very traits - spiritual, psychological and emotional intelligence. (This is summarised in Nietzsche's use of the word 'resentment' to describe such types.) To dumb down, in other words. To create a utopia requires a proper education system which fosters and encourages these traits.
Come off it. Intellectuals eat and shit like the rest of us. In fact, if an intellectual needs anything it's probably going to be someone to clean out his sewer line or cook his dinner. Now that we have AI, he might be totally unnecessary to society. Maybe he should get a job.
As usual, the tormented prophet mistakes nihilism for truth, rather than having the wisdom to recognize it as a deeply personal, subjective interpretation.
I sometimes wonder whether philosophers like Nietzsche and Kafka were genuine seekers or carefully placed snares designed to catch those who think deeply, but not quite deeply enough. They seem positioned along the path to enlightenment, not to illuminate it, but to ensconce travelers in a web of doubt and pointless despair, perhaps, right at the edge of revelation.
In many respects, they resemble the very insects Kafka portrayed, though not just any insect. They are more like spiders that trap and devour purpose, meaning, and joy.
It’s not that I fail to grasp or appreciate the nature of the challenges they propose one might encounter. Nor do I dismiss their characterizations or analyses out of hand. It’s their interpretation of the consequences and their framing of those consequences as inevitable to which I object. These are, after all, profoundly subjective conclusions, not universal thresholds of insight, and should neither be projected onto others as predicates to understanding nor internalized without serious reflection - if at all.
The misery of these thinkers may, in the end, be an indelible warning not to avoid the path entirely, but to carry better tools to interpret the terrain when walking it. The goal after all is to stare in to the abyss without being consumed by it.
Anyone who has taken a stroll through a forest with someone who does not enjoy nature will understand.
That’s a compelling perspective — and I appreciate the nuance in distinguishing between descriptive analysis and prescriptive inevitability. You're right: thinkers like Nietzsche and Kafka often hover on the edge of despair, and if read uncritically, their words can feel like cul-de-sacs rather than signposts.
But perhaps their value lies not in offering the final word, but in clearing away comforting illusions. Nietzsche didn’t stop at nihilism—he saw it as a necessary stage, a spiritual detox before the emergence of new values. And Kafka’s bleak landscapes often point, subtly, to the absurdity of blind obedience, not to despair for despair’s sake.
You're absolutely right that their conclusions are subjective and shouldn't be internalized wholesale. But as you suggest, with the right tools—discernment, irony, resilience—they can serve as warnings rather than destinations. They help train the eye to detect existential dead-ends so that one may choose, deliberately, a path toward light.
Your forest analogy is spot-on. The experience is shaped not only by the terrain but by the lens we bring with us. The same abyss that consumes some may be the crucible through which others are forged.
You write beautifully
This is golden!
True means alot. Thanks😊
I worry that many people are exposed to these ideas much too early, before they have had time to acquire sufficient maturity, knowledge and experience. They perhaps then accept them prima facia, lacking the bulwark from which to argue otherwise. It’s an existential hazard.
Once entrenched it is much more difficult to disentangle oneself than having avoided the pitfalls altogether, especially if these ideas have sufficient time to gestate after exposure. Viewing each new experience through the blemish of this lens will only reinforce their gravitas.
If I gave you my glasses and you wore them around long enough you’d eventually be unable to see without them. Yet you wouldn’t be seeing the world as it is but as I see it. Perhaps then these ideas should come with a Surgeon General’s warning since they are, in a very real sense, a prescription.
Let me put it this way, if I had to journey into the dark recess of the existential forest I wouldn’t want Nietzsche or Kafka holding my hand. If you can relate, I suspect you see my point.
Wow that explains why i am the loneliest man in the world, I’m a fucking genius
Glad, It resonates with you😊
Interesting. I see things from a different angle - possibly because I’m not intelligent!
Sociability comes from extroversion and solitude from introversion as a primary quality. I say primary because in my view high intelligence is prevalent but all the features interpreted as herd mentality are a combination of controlling behaviour (imposing social ritual), indolence (choosing not to lend much thought to deeper meaning) and a particular form of selfishness that seeks to reduce the world into simplicity for convenience. Call me a cynic.
The reason why I lend more thought to life is secondary to my preference to solitude from an early age not because I think I can process things better. Brilliance and learning disability do exist but in the main, unless distracted by strife/emotional trauma or commitment, people choose to allocate thinking time to life and this gives the illusion of intelligence
This view makes a distinction between academic (computational) brilliance and intelligence that is related to introspection. To my mind they are distinct. The view ascribes greater agency and expects greater deference but arrives at the same end point: resentment. To me, many people may appear less intelligent either due to convenience (others’ social awareness will absorb my indiscretion), disinterest or other expressions of selfishness. You may think now I’ve shifted to emotional intelligence but to me people are emotional by default so the real distinction is time allocated to introspection
Then there’s the issue of autism. There is probably a link to solitude in many who do not fit the full criteria but in my view that does not stop you lending more thought to your environment.
Thank you for sharing this — it's a deeply introspective and nuanced reflection, and I don’t think a lack of intelligence is anywhere near the issue here. Quite the opposite, actually. Your distinction between academic (or computational) brilliance and introspective intelligence is particularly resonant. That split often gets overlooked in conversations that equate intelligence with performance, rather than depth of thought.
You're right that solitude tends to give space for introspection, and that this can lead to a more critical or layered view of the world. Whether it's due to temperament (introversion), neurodivergence (such as traits associated with autism), or simply personal preference, that solitude often creates the conditions for richer inner dialogue — though not necessarily greater peace.
I also appreciate your take on social behavior as sometimes being a product of convenience or conformity. In a way, you're describing an intentional simplicity — not due to incapacity, but perhaps because of a prioritization of comfort, efficiency, or emotional economy. It’s a reminder that what we interpret as “intelligence” can be shaped just as much by circumstance and values as by raw capability.
Your point about time — that the true differentiator may be how much of it one allocates to introspection — is especially powerful. It reminds me of the idea that wisdom isn’t just what we know, but what we’re willing to sit with.
The tension you mention — the expectation of deference, and the resulting resentment — is very real. Those who look deeply at the world often feel out of sync with it. And yet, perhaps that discomfort is also part of the terrain we must learn to walk, rather than escape.
Thank you again for adding such depth to the conversation.
Great!
So true! We are living this. We’re extremely unpretentious “academics” (esp. Joey with PhD) in a shared building with GED-educated peeps in power. What a continual struggle to figure out how not to threaten them. It’s funny that we seem to threaten without ever mentioning credentials and I don’t think we’re condescending at all (because we both had down to earth childhoods - Joey’s dad was a farmer - and both of us having to work in corporate America at some point). Also appreciated your reference to Rustin Cohle character in True Detective — absolute best season and best thing McConaughey’s ever done !
Thank you for sharing this — I can imagine how complex and frustrating that dynamic must be. It’s often not the credentials themselves that create tension, but the quiet presence of thoughtfulness or depth in environments that reward surface-level control or familiarity. Sometimes, just being reflective, inquisitive, or quietly competent can be perceived as a threat, even when there’s no trace of condescension.
What you said about your backgrounds really hits home — when people come from working-class or grounded roots, it gives them a kind of dual fluency: the ability to navigate both academic and everyday spaces. But that also makes you especially attuned to how fragile egos can be when power isn’t backed by insight.
And yes — True Detective Season 1 was lightning in a bottle. Rustin Cohle was such a brilliant example of a character who stares into the void without blinking, but still carries a deep undercurrent of compassion beneath the detachment. A rare portrayal of existential weight without cynicism.
You're not alone in walking that fine line between humility and inadvertent disruption. It’s a tough balance, but also a powerful position to be in — even if it comes with its share of friction.
Thanks Jacob! I’m glad at least you “get” us because our neighbors sure don’t.
Really enjoyed the article and I could relate to a lot of the points you make. Beautifully written too.
This is a very good piece of work.
Thanks for appreciation Sir 🙏
Amazing article. Really thought provoking. I especially appreciate some of the nuanced arguments raised in the comments. It's a good reminder that much of what's written on substack is subjective, and often meant to introduce different ways of thinking rather than offer fixed conclusions.
While I agree with much of the article, I found the reflections in the comments helpful in showing that the consequences described aren't inevitable for all deep thinkers, they can be seen more as tools to guide rather than outcomes to accept.
Thank you so much for this insightful response. I really appreciate how you've framed the piece—not as a set of hard truths, but as a lens through which to explore a deeper reality. You're absolutely right: the experiences I described aren't universal or inevitable, and the comments have added powerful nuance to that conversation.
My goal was less to issue a verdict on intelligence and more to explore the emotional and philosophical tension that often comes with it—especially as thinkers like Nietzsche and Schopenhauer saw it. I'm glad the comment section has become a space for alternative perspectives, since part of what makes ideas meaningful is how they interact with real people's experiences.
Thanks again for engaging so thoughtfully—it reminds me why I write.
Fascinating article, thank you.
A thought: there is a difference between power and force. POWER comes from those who have deeply plumbed their own soul/psyche and faced their own demons. FORCE comes from those who don't have the courage to go on the inner journey; they compensate by throwing their weight around, amplified by technologies at their disposal.
Mao's saying "political power grows out of the barrel of a gun" is wrong; force comes from the barrel of a gun - as we see all too well these days. Power comes from a place of deep soul integrity.
The intellect is one of several faculties of consciousness; there is also inspiration, intuition, instinct, imagination, 'soul' -- when the intellect works 'as a team' with other faculties, then you get power. When the intellect works on its own and tries to compensate for 'not listening' to the other faculties, then the output is usually raw force. None of our current so-called leaders are powerful; they're just forceful. Force breeds violence; power breeds courageous actions. Forceful people are just bullies; powerful people are respected -- whatever their IQ.
Thank you for this thoughtful reflection — the distinction you draw between power and force is profound and timely. True power, as you say, is rooted in self-awareness and inner integrity, not domination. What you describe reminds me of the tension between authentic leadership and performative control — one uplifts, the other suppresses. Our culture often mistakes volume for depth and control for wisdom. But real influence doesn’t shout; it resonates. I completely agree that the integration of intellect with intuition and soul is what gives rise to meaningful action. In a world obsessed with force, inner power is revolutionary.
Thank you for such an eloquent summary-feedback - I admire your clarity of writing. "But real influence doesn’t shout; it resonates." That's a great take-home line. Best regards, Josh.
Great article, thanks for posting!
Thanks Rt for your Kind Words ☺️
the "tragedy of the ordinary" like the composition of space will release the burden of philosophy
Great!
Thanks Angel 🙏
It may be worth mentioning: Intelligence has as many personalities as do humans on this earth. One's genius can focus on joy as well as suffering.
Regrettably romantic stigmas have dressed philosophy in black attire.
I think this is only true in a dystopia. That's to say, a world which is run by and for stupid people (as is the case at present). Stupid people of course, by virtue of their stupidity, are not equipped to understand reality, but are intelligent enough to know they don't understand it, and that terrifies the shit out of them (call it also spiritual immaturity), and so their underlying insecurity forces them to seek power and control (of the material kind, because they aren't intelligent enough to comprehend the spirit). As a corollary, they ostracise the intelligent, because such people are dangerous to them.
Notice also how the stupid people's ideology is expressed in judaeo-christianity, which murdered the spirit and suppresses intelligence.
This is the psychohistory of how dystopia comes into being. Nietzsche understood this I am sure. Today, they would call him a conspiracy theorist. But he'd still be completely right.
For a bit of hope, it is logically possible to create a utopia in which the intelligent are in charge. You'd have to be ruthless to bring it about, though, and it would require 'intelligent people of the world, unite!'
Forgot to add - one of the aspects I like about your essay is that you make it quite clear that intelligence is multifaceted, and entails the most important traits of intelligence, namely spiritual, psychological and emotional (social) intelligence. These traits lead to compassion, which makes for the ideal ruler.
For the intelligent person, however, who is prevented from fulfilling this rightful role in society, it does lead to despair and self-ostracism. These sorts of feelings then lead one to proclaim stuff like 'pity in a man of knowledge is ludicrous, like sensitive hands on a cyclops'.
Equally so, we can see how the insecure, lacking in intelligence, create dystopian ideologies to prevent those very traits - spiritual, psychological and emotional intelligence. (This is summarised in Nietzsche's use of the word 'resentment' to describe such types.) To dumb down, in other words. To create a utopia requires a proper education system which fosters and encourages these traits.
Love it. Thank you
Unrelated.......where are the other comments? It says there are 24. (Not a genius :-)
Come off it. Intellectuals eat and shit like the rest of us. In fact, if an intellectual needs anything it's probably going to be someone to clean out his sewer line or cook his dinner. Now that we have AI, he might be totally unnecessary to society. Maybe he should get a job.