I have come in contact with many very bright people over my academic career. But I have also encountered plenty of colleagues who were somewhat intellectually mediocre – and the latter were by no means confined to academia’s low ranks and obscure corners.
That raises an interesting question – especially for a psychologist like me – about the extent to which IQ is a reliable predictor of success in academia. Based on my long experience, I’d say that all academics are brightish. But there is no doubt a normal IQ distribution based in a mean of 115 or 120: that is, around one standard deviation above the norm. Some like to believe there are differences in intelligence levels between disciplines, faculties and institutions. This may be true, but that’s all part of the normal distribution.
The first issue is how to define success. I have two, probably unrelated, criteria. The first is peer recognition in the form of awards from recognised and serious academic bodies. Rhodes scholarships, for instance. Fellowships of the Royal Society. Even knighthoods for service to scholarship. One might quibble that there is an element of politics and “rewards for the boys” in such recognition but let’s not get too hung up about that.
The other criterion is how quickly and how high someone climbs the greasy pole: being made a full professor before 30, for example, or a dean at 40. How about a Regius professorship or vice-chancellorship?
Regarding IQ, there are, I believe, what might be called accelerators and brakes that affect its relationship to success, as defined above. Chief among the brakes are obsessional character traits. It seems to me that these are sometimes encouraged in disciplines whose culture has a dislike of ambiguity and uncertainty and that therefore insist on ceaseless checking, ordering and categorising to make sure everything is exactly right, perfectly lined up, rule-following.
Being exact, careful and rigorous is doubtless a good trait, but obsessionals struggle with the big picture and, therefore, with creativity and productivity. Obsessive-compulsive disorder is a clinical condition that is hard to overcome, but those on the compulsive “spectrum” can work their way down it with conscious effort, starting with small tasks.
The second brake on IQ’s success-boosting effect is low emotional regulation and sensitivity. EQ is about having social awareness and skills that allow you to get on with people – not only with colleagues but with those you manage and who manage you. If someone is unable to establish and maintain friendships, intellectual firepower is unlikely to be that useful in terms of achieving success. Promotions and prizes are, of course, partly dependent on merit but also on successful networking.
It is well known that many mathematical geniuses, for instance, display autistic characteristics that can hold them back professionally. These are hard-wired but most people can consciously improve their social skills through effort and practice. There are enough senior management courses aimed precisely at this.
The third brake is distractions. These take many forms, including social relationships (with parents, partner, children), unhealthy lifestyles or addictions to all sorts of things, from drugs to collecting. To be successful you need to be able to resist temptation and work hard. The focus necessary to do this can be nurtured through planful strategies that are rigorously adhered to.
As for the accelerators of the relationship between IQ and success, by far the clearest is (naked) ambition and competitiveness.
Some academics are driven by the memory of childhood deprivation and poverty, for instance; others by a desire to please deeply ambitious parents. They want to succeed, be the winner, attain the highest score, and they are willing to put in the effort and apply their abilities to achieve their aim. Many want recognition and/or money. By contrast, the genius with limited ambition is always going to be an underachiever.
Psychologists have tended not to research ambitiousness and have even suggested that it is often pathological. But in purely professional terms, it is a very useful trait – although not one that is easily acquired if it isn’t already viscerally felt. It is often established in childhood, although of course the question is ambitious for what: power, influence, status or money?
The second accelerator is resilience. Whatever your chosen field, there are obstacles and handicaps to be overcome. There are also injustices. But life is not fair: get used to it. People who can duck the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune do better.
Contrariwise, being “fragile and sensitive” means being too easily blown off course and often being too inward-looking. Resilience is a personality variable but it is possible to learn better coping skills. Indeed, it is at the heart of most therapeutic interventions, some of which are clearly successful.
The third accelerator is opportunism. I have sometimes been (quite rightly) accused of this. The accusation is meant as an insult, implying that I am somehow undeserving, perhaps selfish and certainly lucky. But I take it as a compliment because I believe I have made my own luck. If I am fortunate enough to be given an opportunity to do something I want to do, like doing or is highly remunerated, I jump at it.
As I tell all my students, default on yes, not no. And while that comes more naturally to some than others, the more you do it (and live to tell the tale!) the easier it becomes.
I recently made a short list of very bright people I was at school and university with. Of the five, one did exceptionally well. The other four did OK in career terms but were far overtaken by many less gifted than themselves.
That said, those who surpassed them also have above-average intelligence, and I do believe that there is an IQ threshold below which a successful academic career is virtually impossible – just as there used to be a height threshold below which you could not become a police officer.
Nor do I know of any evidence that there is an upper IQ threshold for a successful academic career. The “too bright” accusation is simply nonsense; being very bright is really never a handicap.
But neither is it really a great strength unless accompanied (or unaccompanied) by other strengths.
Adrian Furnham is professor emeritus at the Norwegian Business School. He does OK on IQ tests and never wanted to take a leadership role in any university he has been associated with.
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