Julia Azzouz

Copy Editor

Photo via The New York Times

When you think of an “intellectual,” what comes to mind? Stacks of papers, a grand office, suits and ties, a framed diploma? This image of the ideal scholar often seems distant and exclusive, leaving many with a sense of disconnect from the rational world of ideas. History, television, film, literature, and mass media have often divided people into two categories: intellectuals and everyone else. The surge of information on social media, parallel to the excessive production of goods under our capitalist system, has democratised access to knowledge, but it has also led to a lack of critical media literacy, a disdain for professionals, and a retreat from active, individual-focused learning. As ordinary people, we have the opportunity and responsibility to challenge the systems that have long excluded us from intellectual pursuits and reclaim the title of “intellectual” that has, in the past, been so narrowly defined.

In order to understand why our contemporary society seems increasingly “anti-intellectual” (oriented away from reason), we must first unravel the social consequences of our current economic structure. One could argue that capitalism breeds innovation, but it also breeds a toxic culture of productivity and efficiency. According to Statistics Canada, about 27% of working-age Canadians feel high to extreme stress levels daily, with another 2023 study reporting that 28% have experienced burnout. Overwhelmed by external circumstances, we resort to the easiest available solutions, those which satisfy our needs and desires rapidly and do not require exhaustive contemplation. We live between two extremes: pain and pleasure, production and consumption. Fast fashion, fast food, and “fast info” are the result of as well as the remedy for excessive production. These quick fixes offer pleasure temporarily, but not long-term fulfilment. In fact, it is much simpler to look toward the near future than it is to look beyond it, especially when the world’s chaos seems to impede our personal paths. We dismiss sustainability for effectiveness, sacrificing our individual growth for the growth of multi-billion-dollar industries. 

Overwhelmed by external circumstances, we resort to the easiest available solutions, those which satisfy our needs and desires rapidly and do not require exhaustive contemplation. We live between two extremes: pain and pleasure, production and consumption.

In our contemporary business-oriented culture, there is an emphasis on action and tangible results over introspection and theoretical exploration. This cultural bias often leads to the undervaluation of scholars, who are frequently perceived as detached from the practical realities of commerce and trade. Intellectuals are sometimes viewed as frivolous or idealistic, as if their focus on theory and reflection is irrelevant to the immediate demands of the market. While scholars and researchers are occasionally praised when their work leads to concrete advancements or practical applications that benefit society, their fundamental efforts in critical analysis and error correction often go unappreciated. 

For instance, the rigorous process of refining theories, eliminating incorrect results, and challenging existing knowledge is frequently dismissed as inconsequential. The value of intellectual work is therefore judged primarily by its utility rather than its role in advancing knowledge. Similarly, a person’s productivity is valuable for commerce, not for the sake of grander societal improvement. Institutions of power objectify humanity as a resource, and we bitterly begin to internalise this degradation. 

To escape it, we seek pleasure as it is regulated by our socio-economic structure. As Hong Kong University professor Jiwei Ci puts it, this kind of hedonism is “an affirmation of instinctual life coupled with the realisation that the instincts need to be limited by prudential considerations of social coexistence.” The pursuit of satisfaction and the related avoidance of pain are thus dictated by external factors and anchored in realism. Capitalism thrives off our search for instant gratification, from our consumerism. It actively encourages our hedonistic tendencies for the sake of profit. However, can we truly find peace if we are blindly following a formula? Everyone has their own distinct goals, which may not benefit from the system put in place. To dishonour these goals is to unconsciously reduce oneself to a number. We become a human statistic, a means to a monetary end. Combatting this set of rules to establish your own is no easy task, but it begins with self-education.

In an age where information and misinformation are more accessible than ever, there is a growing scepticism toward qualified scholars and popular rejection of traditional media. Quotidianly bombarded with an endless stream of news, advice, and facts, it becomes increasingly tedious to critically analyse our sources. There are simply too many to sift through. Naturally, we resort to what we already know: our own opinions and feelings, which only seem to be affirmed by our tailored algorithms. This leads to a confirmation bias where we dismiss information that does not align with our existing values. In this case, it is not learning, but a form of that aforementioned hedonism born from the stress of abundant information. Guided by instinct and emotion, we begin to lack the skills required to discern between true and false information. Our distrust extends from TikTok gurus to experts, but we don’t usually delve further than that essential first step: scepticism. 

Indeed, doubt is the predecessor of thorough critical thinking. With doubt at the root of our inquiries, we may identify the motives, arguments, and rhetorical devices at the basis of any statement. The problem is that the analysis stops at distrust, sometimes at the expense of genuinely valuable discoveries and hypotheses. To begin a meaningful process of self-education, it is not necessary to dismiss the internet or dedicate oneself to books, but it is necessary to be mindful of why and how we consume information.

When digesting information, individuals are encouraged to be passive observers rather than active participants. This paradoxically opposes the action-driven culture dominant in entrepreneurship and commerce. Whereas material goods come and go, knowledge is wholly abstract, existing beyond printed pages in the collective consciousness. Ideas, once understood by the mind, cannot be stolen or extracted and are malleable by the individual. We can control and expand our knowledge exponentially. In that way, ideas are the most valuable and potent tool for the self and the community. Knowledge is power: our current systems exploit this fact. Think of the business hierarchies we are familiar with, those with regular employees at the bottom led by managers led by directors, etcetera. The higher up one is placed, the more influence one has, and the more expertise one possesses. As ordinary people, thanks to the democratisation of education with the aid of technology, we have unprecedented access to information, and thus unprecedented access to power. 

As ordinary people, thanks to the democratisation of education with the aid of technology, we have unprecedented access to information, and thus unprecedented access to power. 

In the past, it has always been the rich and affluent who could obtain education, whether that was books as a precious limited resource, or first-class institutions such as universities. Our perception of “intellectuals” as a patronising, elitist minority is not rooted in a distaste for knowledge, but in an amalgamation of historical factors and contemporary observations. Women and racialized people have long been excluded from intellectual circles and professional establishments, resulting in a modern academia rampant with misogyny and racism. The Church and the state have, for centuries, repressed the education of the masses for fear of criticism, because they knew that intellect could be sharpened into a weapon and used against them. Censorship in totalitarian states operates in the same way, with information deliberately withheld to maintain power, to preserve a dynamic of absolute rule and submission. It is only natural to scorn and be wary of a regime that has harmed and belittled people for ages. Our distrust is not unreasonable, but it should not deter us from seeking answers, especially when we have the means to use them to our advantage. 

The ramifications of academic exclusion have left many people feeling intimidated or belittled by scholars. This historically imposed sense of inferiority has bred resentment and defensiveness, leading to a dismissal of intellectuals as out of touch or pretentious, with neither of these qualities being desirable in an intellectual. With academia so closely tied to privilege, many do in fact study for the sake of a title, rather than for the sake of societal progress. Misusing their credibility and voice, they give a bad rep to the everyday intellectual who wishes to make sense of everyday reality through reasoning and observation. 

As a result, well-intentioned advice can be tainted by the aura of superiority that surrounds it. Even our own parents’ and teachers’ suggestions to “read more books” or “stay off the internet” come across as haughty or patronising. It is difficult to extrapolate their intent from the condescension we immediately perceive. Though it may seem more efficient to overview a topic with a quick Google search, there is a reason we are made to engage with comprehensive lectures and texts rather than two-minute TikTok videos or Instagram slides. With traditional learning methods and media requiring extended focus, our brains digest the information better, more thoroughly comprehending the complexities that make up a subject. They improve our attention span rather than diminishing it, making us more likely to retain the details surrounding a particular topic. 

Although productivity culture, hedonistic consumerism, and algorithmic loops seem to enable anti-intellectualism, they can also provide us with valuable resources that encourage active learning. Historical context may explain our instinctual disdain for scholarly pursuits, but we now have the resources to educate ourselves in a highly personalised manner. This begins with scepticism as the first step to critical thinking and mindful media consumption. Intellectuals are not “elites” anymore considering that the average person in the Western world can now access knowledge that was previously exclusive and rigidly controlled. We can redefine what intellectualism means to include the general population and extra-academic education. Our role is to apprehend our circumstances, critically examine the produced information, and intentionally extract meaningful reflection as well as personal profit from the flood of information available at our fingertips. We have power and we must make use of it.