A Short History of Stupidity
Stuart Jeffries, Polity, £25

ONE might think a book with that starts with the now ubiquitous airport-lounge, stocking-filler title “A Short History of…” would fit the mould of similar pop books: full of Bryson-esque bonhomie, numerous fascinating factoids and an enthusiastic rummage through little-known historical footnotes. If this was the intended signal, the book is mis-titled. This is a wide-ranging exploration not only of stupidity, but also wisdom, epistemology and their cultural manifestations.

Stuart Jeffries, formerly a journalist for the Guardian and now author of a number of books, takes a civilisational approach to his subject encompassing not only Western philosophical traditions but also those from India and China, from philosophical theories of knowledge to the functions of institutions and practices.

Stupidity is not merely a function of intelligence or ignorance; it is steeped in cultural judgement and norms. In an early example, we remember Big Brother contestant Jade Goody who made a name for herself as a prime example of ignorance: East Angular was a part of England, Pistachio painted the Mona Lisa, the French had a drink called abcess, and some people spoke Portuganese.

As Jeffries points out, at the time Goody went on the show she had just been evicted from her council flat over unpaid rent and was facing prison time for unpaid council tax. After vilification in the tabloid press, and being embroiled in a scandal involving racist outbursts, Goody was diagnosed with cervical cancer and died aged 27. However, by that time she had had her own TV show, published a successful autobiography, and left a £2m fortune including a property portfolio. Who’s stupid now?

Stupidity is quite a difficult trait to pin down, it seems. Stupid people sometimes aren’t so stupid, and some intelligent people are remarkably stupid. Professor of mathematics John Paulos is an example of the latter who is now well known for losing all his savings in disastrous investments. Equally, stupidity can be a group trait as individuals do stupid (and often cruel) things if they are expected to do so, as the Milgram experiment, to measure the willingness of participants to obey an authority figure, revealed.

Socrates made significant attempts to pin down knowledge largely by exposing the ignorance of his interlocutors. Buddhist traditions on the other hand emphasise enlightenment and imply that the pursuit of knowledge might get in the way of that process. And the fool may utter many a word of cutting truth in his apparently stupid utterances and invoke deeper political thought in the court.

But, as Jeffries points out, stupidity is often accompanied by considerable learning. A chapter examines the history of eugenics and demonstrates how poverty was mistaken for breeding, women’s roles were mistaken for a lack of deep thought, and the slave’s status in life was caused through natural selection. This, in turn, was supposedly demonstrated by craniology and phrenology.

Even the methods of measuring intelligence, such as IQ tests, are beset by some stupid assumptions, including that intelligence can be summarised in a single measure, that it can be ranked, and that it is genetic in basis. Intelligence, when measured, is then often the cause of other outcomes, such as poverty or wealth, or is the relationship vice-versa? Is it stupid to think that intelligence drives society rather than society determining intelligence?

Jeffries’ meditation on stupidity is both specific and wide-ranging. He demonstrates that stupidity itself is not simply a lack of intelligence or an over abundance of ignorance. It is something deeply embedded in society and social assumptions. Stupidity can be sprung forth from intellectual endeavour, as well as simply invoked by Homer Simpson.

Stupidity is embedded in many practices and institutions, as many a government form-filler can attest. But, as Jade Goody demonstrated, its outcomes are not always stupid too.