College grads are “aristocrats of the intelligence”. We know how to discover and impart knowledge. But, we can make mistakes.
It’s not a question of being more or less intelligent. The question has to do with skill in using a certain product of intelligence, books.

If the reader is competent, he can turn the knowledge in that narrative into something he can use in life or as a starting point for further work. In other words, turn knowledge into learning.
However, learning is marred by many pitfalls. A common one is pedantry.
What is a pedant? The friend who corrects every fact as you speak is a pedant. The party guest who details the fuel consumption and all the humps and traffic lights he had to go through, instead of simply saying he drove an Altis to the party, is a pedant. Pedantry is to speak with more precision than is required by the purpose.
Because of this obsession with precision, pedants have found an ally in the natural sciences. Indeed, pedantry is rampant there. Most of us scientists are more concerned about how we describe our work than about saying something useful. I’m a pedant when I talk to non-biologists as if they were biologists. When I do that, and I do in fact, I’m really thinking more about how awesome I am.
The problem is, we do sound awesome. And so everyone else wants to imitate us. The result is linguistic fuzz.
Take this example: “”Indeed, it should be assiduously noted that the quantity of dihydrogen monoxide utilized in the experiment was precisely measured to the microgram, utilizing a volumetric apparatus calibrated in accordance with the International System of Units, ensuring the utmost accuracy and precluding the possibility of even the most infinitesimal deviation from the intended quantity.”
The writer could just have said he measured the mass of water using a weighing scale.
Here’s an example from the fine arts.
“For me the challenge of painting lies implicit with the act, to penetrate inherited conceptual deposits and attempt the possible impingement of spirit, the personal image remains the enduring command of conscience.”
Do we even understand that? But, wow, pare: penetrate, deposits, impingement, image, command. By the way, that’s how you can tell someone graduated from a university.
More examples; here’s a list of 3 pairs. One member of the pair is the title of an article from the natural sciences, and the other an actual book in popular psychology.
1. Reaction of aldehydes with monosubstituted malonic acids.
2. The happiness hypothesis.
1. Ion-forming equilibria of triarylmethyl chlorides in liquid sulfur dioxide.
2. Psycho-cybernetics: how to program your mind for success.
1. Ultrasonic propagation in liquid ammonia and in liquid ammonia solutions of sodium, lithium, sodium bromide, and sodium iodide.
2. Neurolinguistic programming: a systematic approach to change.
To be clear, I’m not against the content of neurolinguistic programming or NLP, nor do I deny that happiness can have a neurological component. I’m just being careful about the unnecessarily arcane way they are sometimes presented.
Why am I being careful? Obviously, because fuzz is boring. And it’s unintelligible. And, a subject half-learned made to sound fully learned and then applied to solve real problems? A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
Last week I chatted with my high school best friend, Gil. He took a 3 month course in NLP because he wanted to help people with mental issues. No doubt, NLP works very well. But, to grow one’s clientele hahanapan ka pa rin ng license to practice psychology. He’s now taking a master’s degree from a university and plans to get his PRC license in 2025.
Gil works hard. But for the lazy, the approach is, if you can’t dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit.
And so, the marriage between pedantry and science has made it so easy to look sophisticated. The result? A massive barrage of bullshit.
To compete, creators sell you their content as being at least as valuable as anyone else’s. To convince you that joy is important they will not just call it joy, but “the happiness hypothesis“, or “the happiness equation“, or “happiness: lessons from a new science“. One book for the price of three. An idea that sounds scientific is as good as any idea that is also scientific, right?
Wrong. All knowledge is not equal. What you SAW does not have the same truth value as what it MEANT. The jump from knowledge to learning starts with data, goes through judgement, reaches a conclusion. There’s a technique to read science, one for history, for poetry, for fiction, for psychology. A 3-month seminar on NLP is a far different animal from a 3-year masters program in psychology.
But, experts, if they snub anything outside their field, must face another problem: to think that their technique is THE technique, they turn a method into a doctrine. Hence, Dawkins proved God doesn’t exist using Darwinian evolution, while Descartes proved the opposite using mathematics. Marx turned economic analysis into the doctrine of communism, and Malthus turned exponential equations into a doctrine of population control, that the Chinese Communist Party in 1979 turned into the One Child Policy, a disaster they’re unable to reverse.
The market is swamped with books, also false teachings, memes, fake news, clickbait, conspiracy theories. How can we navigate this tsunami of knowledge in a way that gets us safely to port? Two ways.
1. Talk less, say more. Learned men have dug deep enough to hit the aquifer that connects all truth, allowing much to be left unsaid in conversation. You only need a few very sharp tools to quickly reach that aquifer. Choosing good books was easier when publication was expensive and so only the best got printed. I mean even Das Kapital, The Interpretation of Dreams, and Madame Bovary are great books, and useful if it’s clear to you why and how to read them. With modern syllabi, fewer and fewer people now read the same books; good conversation is becoming more and more rare, although we can still safely quote from the Apocalypse. Anyway, consult, study, and test your tools.
2. Read only books that have stood the test of time. Jean Guitton, Catholic philosopher, suggests to prefer books that are still talked about at 3 years old, better 30 years, best 300 years. He says to read only those books that make you gasp “I would love to have written this myself.” Guitton is not against quantity itself, but against uncritical and disorganized consumption. To counter this, he suggests a method of comparative study. As an example let’s say you read Les Miserables. How to read it according to Guitton? Three steps: Choose, distinguish, contradict.
Step one, choose: you’ve already chosen a good book; now, in one sentence what is this book about? what does each chapter say? What is not said that could have been said?
Step two, distinguish: How does this book compare and contrast with other books of Victor Hugo, with other authors? Why this choice of detail and not this other?
Step three, contradict: What facts, what assumptions did these authors get wrong? How do we resolve the dispute?
Now, how the hell am I supposed to read 52 books a year if I followed this method? But who said you have to read cover to cover? Or in one direction, front to back? And who said that 52 books is even a good idea?
You know, as you master these skills you’ll see the true superpower of a learned man lies in the quality of his questions. Mama Mary is not recorded as having read a single book. Yet after she asked, “How can this be since I know not man?,” the Word was made flesh.
To conclude. We teach the way we learn. If we consume BS then we vomit BS. But, if we read judiciously, then like a mother pelican, pie pellicane, we will regurgitate healthy food.
(Q.C. 230707)


