Telling an intelligent person they are obliged to use their intelligence in service to others is the quickest way of convincing him or her not to.
That… may be a pretty good point. I was socialized in service to humankind by science-fiction books presenting heroic examples of good behavior. If my parents had actually gone around telling me that I was obligated to use my gift in service of others… I might well have turned out as quite a different person. Mainly, my parents tried hard not to make a big deal out of it—they never told me I was ordinary, but also never said I was special; only my maternal grandparents ever said that, and I didn’t see them too often.
I bet that, of the people out there who really do try to use their power responsibly (and not just tell other people to do it), more of them were socialized by Spiderman comics than by their parents telling them what to do.
Consider my opinion changed.
High-IQ children know they are high-IQ; if they can’t figure out how smart they are, they aren’t very smart.
This part isn’t true. I knew I was the smartest in my class, but I had no idea I was anything beyond that until standardized tests showed me a much higher percentile, and as late as age fourteen I was still answering “Are you a genius?” with “No.” Answering “yes” would have been socially inconvenient, therefore my mind found ways to make the answer “no”. As late as age fourteen I hadn’t yet begun to systematize my rationality.
(Side note: Much later, someone asked me “Are you a genius?” and I shot back, “What percentile is required to be a genius?” After I explained “percentile”, he said “One in three hundred”, so I laughed briefly and said “Yes.”)
That… may be a pretty good point. I was socialized in service to humankind by science-fiction books presenting heroic examples of good behavior. If my parents had actually gone around telling me that I was obligated to use my gift in service of others… I might well have turned out as quite a different person. Mainly, my parents tried hard not to make a big deal out of it—they never told me I was ordinary, but also never said I was special; only my maternal grandparents ever said that, and I didn’t see them too often.
I bet that, of the people out there who really do try to use their power responsibly (and not just tell other people to do it), more of them were socialized by Spiderman comics than by their parents telling them what to do.
Consider my opinion changed.
This part isn’t true. I knew I was the smartest in my class, but I had no idea I was anything beyond that until standardized tests showed me a much higher percentile, and as late as age fourteen I was still answering “Are you a genius?” with “No.” Answering “yes” would have been socially inconvenient, therefore my mind found ways to make the answer “no”. As late as age fourteen I hadn’t yet begun to systematize my rationality.
(Side note: Much later, someone asked me “Are you a genius?” and I shot back, “What percentile is required to be a genius?” After I explained “percentile”, he said “One in three hundred”, so I laughed briefly and said “Yes.”)