There was a time when education was seen as a gateway to self-improvement, a mark of aspiration, and even something admirable. To be thoughtful, well-read, and informed was considered a virtue. Today, however, a troubling shift has occurred. Being intellectual or well-informed is no longer “cool” in certain spaces, especially in the fast-moving, hyper-reactive world of social media. Instead, we are witnessing the rise of an alarming anti-intellectual culture, where wit is mistaken for wisdom, confidence trumps knowledge, and memes or tweets are seen as sufficient substitutes for careful thought.
The platforms shaping our collective consciousness—Twitter, Instagram, TikTok—reward brevity and boldness over nuance and depth. The most shared content isn’t the one that presents a balanced view or provokes deep thought but the one that elicits an instant reaction: a laugh, a gasp, or, most commonly, outrage. In this environment, intelligence, which thrives on time and contemplation, has become unfashionable. Complexity feels like an inconvenience when a meme or a 10-second clip can make us feel as though we already “get it.”
This shift has led to a profound misunderstanding of what intelligence or education truly means. Many now equate being educated with being elitist, or worse, boring. It’s no longer aspirational to spend time grappling with difficult ideas or to admit that you don’t know something and want to learn. Instead, the prevailing message seems to be: it’s better to appear certain, even if you’re wrong, than to admit doubt or take the time to seek understanding. Social media thrives on this certainty. It encourages performance rather than inquiry and rewards those who can deliver their message in the fewest words, regardless of whether those words are thoughtful or accurate.
Education, in its truest sense, demands something profoundly unglamorous: effort. To understand a complex political system, a philosophical idea, or a historical event takes time. It requires patience, a willingness to read, reflect, and resist the temptation to settle for easy answers. But in a culture increasingly addicted to speed, where attention spans are shrinking, this kind of effort is no longer celebrated. Instead, it’s often mocked. How many times have we seen someone who values books or deeper learning dismissed as pretentious or irrelevant? How often is “nerd” or “bookworm” still used as an insult, as though knowledge were a weakness rather than a strength?
The consequences of this cultural shift are deeply troubling, particularly in the realm of politics. Democracy relies on an informed public, yet many of us now form our political views based on sound bites, headlines, and the emotional punch of a viral post. Politicians, too, are adapting to this world, trading substance for spectacle, knowing that a pithy slogan or an incendiary tweet will resonate more than a detailed policy proposal. The result is a dangerously shallow political culture where decisions of immense complexity are reduced to binary choices: us versus them, good versus evil, right versus wrong.
What we are losing, above all, is the ability to think critically. Critical thinking is not glamorous or instant; it requires us to question our assumptions, entertain opposing views, and accept that some issues may not have simple solutions. It requires us to resist the allure of easy answers and take the time to seek out the whole story. But when social media rewards speed and certainty, this kind of deliberate, open-minded inquiry is often left behind.
We must ask ourselves why we’ve let being uninformed or dismissive of education become, in some circles, a badge of honor. Why isn’t it cool to be curious, to admit what we don’t know, or to spend time learning simply for the sake of understanding? Education, properly understood, isn’t about accumulating facts or winning arguments—it’s about cultivating a richer, more empathetic, and more nuanced view of the world. In a time when misinformation is rampant, when propaganda is flourishing, and when trust in expertise is eroding, the ability to think deeply and critically is not just important—it’s urgent.
We need to reframe what we admire. Being informed should be aspirational again. Reading the long article, delving into the dense book, listening to the expert, and engaging with ideas that challenge us—these should be acts of quiet rebellion against a culture that glorifies speed over substance. Education must once again be seen as a mark of strength, not weakness; of independence, not elitism. In a world that increasingly values appearances over authenticity, making the effort to truly understand is one of the most radical—and essential—things we can do.