To be very clear, Helen Lewis is not trying to say that genius does not exist. She's written a hard critique of the mythology that we've adopted around genius, the stories we tell about what qualifies as genius and who gets the label. The ancient Greeks and Romans defined talent as something that was temporarily bestowed on people from the outside, a limited gift from the gods. These days, Western society has decided that genius is a deterministic quality of special individuals, who will display their specialness from a young age, and will be talented their entire lives at all things. With those impossible standards to live up to, is it any wonder that as much as we love anointing geniuses, we also delight in debunking them?
This book starts and ends with Elon Musk, a great, current example of the genius myth at work. Is Musk an engineering genius who was a big part of reviving the space industry and growing the market for electric cars? Or is he an entitled man-child promoting conspiracy theories on social media and throwing tantrums every time someone disagrees with him? Both stories are two sides of the same coin: the mythology of the Great Man, lone rebel, mad genius. The truth is more complex. Musk is both a talented engineer who runs some great companies making cars and rockets and a major jerk, but he's not talented because he's a jerk. Lewis' book examines how we flatten these complex stories about the complex lives of complex people into a simple tale that both elevates genius into a type of sainthood, and neatly excuses the rest of us from not being that creative, or achieving those heights. She also shows how we tolerate and justify the asshole (and sometimes worse) behavior, conflating it with the talent.
A good chunk of the book examines what Lewis dubs the scenius, the collaboration, supporters, infrastructure, and environment that support the "lone" genius. Musk benefited from not only $28,000 from his father to start his first company, he greatly benefited from starting that company in Silicon Valley at the time he did, not to mention all the dedicated employees who have worked for his visions over the years. Without wife and fellow artist Lee Krasner, "Jackson Pollock would probably have been nothing more than a non-functioning alcoholic." (pg. 191) The Beatles ceased to work when Paul McCarthy and John Lennon could no longer maintain the fine balance between their collaboration and their competition.
Another major focus of Lewis' book is why we declare some people geniuses, while equally smart and talented people are overlooked. Lennon was the genius and McCarthy often dismissed, even though it was that special chemistry between them that led to The Beatles' greatest songs. Lewis has an entire chapter explaining how Lennon fit the preferred story template better, including dying tragically before his time, and how that story was relentlessly promoted. That's also why you can't help but know about Musk, but you've probably never heard of Tim Berners-Lee, the creator behind the World Wide Web. "Without Tim Berners-Lee, there would have been no Twitter for Elon Musk to ruin." (page 18) But, Berners-Lee leads a quiet life, whereas Musk "performs the cultural role of genius with apparent enthusiasm: saying odd and provocative things, espousing extreme work habits, maintaining an unusual personal life, drawing attention to himself with salty tweets. Love him or hate him, we can't stop talking about him."
Lewis is a staff writer for The Atlantic and her book is written at the level of long-form journalism in a conversational style. Like lots of journalism, it's more broad than deep, but very accessible and a pleasure to read. (Although, as usual for me, I really wish it had an index.) It's a good blend of history, analysis, and cultural critique, explained well with humor and British ironic understatement.