Back in 1972, journalist David Halberstam wrote an excellent book with the title The Best and the Brightest that was a devastating critique of how Kennedy and Johnson stocked their administrations with those they considered considered brilliant people, consisting of highly credentialed people with elite educational backgrounds or who were seen as successful heads of industry. Those people took the US down a devastating path in Vietnam.
The book title refers to Kennedy’s “whiz kids”—leaders of industry and academia brought into his administration—whom Halberstam characterizes as insisting on “brilliant policies that defied common sense” in Vietnam, policies often implemented against the advice of career U.S. Department of State employees.
People who, for whatever reason, pride themselves on being extremely clever can often be blinded by their own sense of being brilliant and make decisions that are reckless and unwise. The beginning of Alexander Pope’s poem An Essay on Criticism succinctly warns about the danger of such shallow brilliance.
A little learning is a dangerous thing ;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring :
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Those who have achieved success in some area can succumb to thinking of themselves as being clever at everything. A truly intelligent person knows that their knowledge is both limited in depth and narrow in scope, knows that there are people with greater depth of knowledge in every area, and seeks them out for guidance. No one can accuse Trump of hiring the best and the brightest. He has seemingly chosen people on the basis of how sycophantic they are to him and they are turning out to be best described by the opposite of Halberstam’s title. They are the worst and the dimmest.
[Read more…]
