Redefining Brilliance in the Context of Human Virtue

Personal Perspective: Does genius really matter anymore?

Reviewed by Lybi Ma

Well, another step in the cognitive abyss with a question that seems to be a direct result of the computational vigor of AI.

Does genius really matter anymore?

It's a question that's been nagging at me lately. Not in an abstract, philosophical way, but in a very real, present-tense sense. Because we're living through a moment when machines can outthink our brightest minds, and that should make us wonder whether human genius—that thing we've celebrated for millennia—still matters at all.

For the first time in human history, we've created machines that commonly outthink us. Not just in chess or Go, but in domains we once considered uniquely human—medical diagnosis, scientific discovery, even creative expression. Today's AI, now even powered by quantum computing, isn't just matching human intelligence; they're making us question the very relevance of human genius.

When machines can out-calculate, out-predict, and out-analyze even our most brilliant minds, what's left for human genius? If, in fact, the contextual perspective of a genius still is valid.

The answer, I've come to believe, lies in understanding three aspects of human capability: IQ, EQ, and something the ancient Greeks called "artete" or virtue. Each tells part of the story, but together they reveal something surprising about why genius might matter more than ever—just not in the way we thought.

Let's start with IQ. For over a century, we've used it as shorthand for genius, treating it as the gold standard of cognitive capability. But here's the twist: machines have essentially broken the IQ scale. They can process information and solve problems with a speed and accuracy that makes our highest human scores look quaint. It's like comparing a calculator to an abacus—they're playing different games entirely.

But this isn't actually bad news. In fact, it's liberating. Because while machines have claimed the throne of pure computation, they've helped us understand something crucial about human genius: IQ was never the whole story.

This brings us to EQ—emotional intelligence. Unlike IQ, which machines can replicate and exceed, EQ emerges from something fundamentally human: lived experience. Machines can simulate empathy, but they can't feel it. They can analyze emotions, but they can't experience the raw reality of grief, joy, or love. This isn't just a technical limitation; it's a fundamental difference in the nature of consciousness.

Yet even EQ doesn't complete the picture. There's a third dimension that philosophers have grappled with for millennia: virtue. Not virtue in the stuffy, moralistic sense, but virtue as a form of practical wisdom—the ability to navigate complex ethical landscapes and make decisions that serve the greater good.

While machines can process ethical frameworks and apply moral rules, they can't embody courage, demonstrate true compassion, or exercise genuine judgment. These qualities aren’t just behaviors to be simulated; they’re the essence of human consciousness and the foundation of a deeper kind of genius. It’s this uniquely human capacity to navigate complexity with wisdom and integrity that ensures our relevance in an AI-driven world.

Expanding the "icons of our time" beyond just tech to include business and politics makes the argument more universal and impactful. It broadens the critique to encompass all domains where genius, if untethered from virtue, could lead to societal harm. This approach strengthens the conclusion by demonstrating that the concern isn’t limited to one sector but reflects a broader cultural challenge.

In the age of AI, the genius that matters isn’t about surpassing machines at their own game. It’s about embracing what makes us human: the integration of knowledge, empathy, and wisdom to solve problems and shape a future where technology serves human flourishing, not the other way around.

And in today’s turbulent times—marked by rapid change, ethical uncertainty, and global challenges—it is virtue, the compass of moral courage and judgment, that may matter most. Without it, the "icons of our time"—whether in tech, business, or politics—risk achieving brilliance and power without accountability, creating a dystopian tale more chilling than any Hollywood depiction of artificial intelligence. Genius, it seems, is more essential than ever—but only if we redefine it on our terms.