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We’ve long-known calling a child a “genius” can backfire. Labelling a young person this way tends to shift the focus from effort to identity, from learning to performing, from growing to protecting an image. But only recently are we beginning to examine the damage done when we call an adult a “genius.”
Helen Lewis’s new book, The Genius Myth: a Curious History of a Dangerous Idea, takes a hard look at how society’s obsession with lone brilliance distorts our view of work, worth and leadership.
From an HR and career perspective, it’s a timely reminder that what we reward, we encourage — and the genius myth is something we should be actively dismantling.
The term “genius” evokes images of solitary brilliance: the brilliant coder who writes an entire platform in a weekend; the visionary leader who sees 10 years into the future; the creative who burns bridges with colleagues in pursuit of their art.
These characters are always exceptional and often unmanageable. We tolerate their bad behaviour, dismiss their impact on others and reframe collaboration as interference. We do this because we’ve been told this is what it takes to be great.
At work, we’ve seen the ways that poor behaviour by geniuses ripple across organizations. The CEO whose verbal abuse is tolerated because of their track record. The technician who refuses to document their work, forcing the company to become dependent on them. The creative director whose toxic leadership causes turnover but whose ideas are so celebrated HR is told to find workarounds rather than hold them accountable.
In each of these cases, the genius label becomes a shield. And the people around them are asked to adjust, accommodate and absorb the fallout.
What if this is not the best way? More importantly, what if this story is costing us better work and healthier teams?
This is not just an issue of fairness. It’s an issue of quality. The best work being done today — whether in engineering, education, design, health care or policy — is collaborative.
The challenges we face are too complex for any one person. We need teams who can think across disciplines, draw on diverse perspectives and build on one another’s work. We need psychological safety, shared accountability and honest feedback.
Genius culture undermines all of this. It teaches people to protect their status rather than share their ideas. It rewards showmanship over humility. It treats feedback as a threat rather than an improvement.
It also distorts our understanding of growth. When someone believes they’re a genius, they often become unwilling to fail — and failure is essential to learning.
I see this in employee development all the time. Those who see themselves as “the best” often plateau early. They avoid stretch assignments where they might reveal weakness. They resist coaching. They struggle to collaborate. When things go wrong, they blame others.
In contrast, those who value process, effort and learning tend to improve consistently over time. They don’t need to be the smartest person in the room; they want to be part of the best team.
Managers and HR professionals can start to dismantle the genius myth by paying attention to how we praise and promote.
Are we rewarding the person who solves the problem alone or the one who brings the right people together? Are we celebrating visibility or impact? Are we building roles around individuals or around the needs of the organization? Are we investing in leadership that supports others or that sets them on fire for the sake of brilliance?
We can also take a hard look at succession planning. Many companies still rely on the idea of a singular visionary, someone who will emerge as the next great leader. More often, what we actually need is a strong bench — a mix of talent that complements and challenges one another. When we frame succession as a team sport rather than a solo race, we get leaders who are generous with credit, focused on results and secure enough to build up others.
At the employee level, we can start pushing back against the myth in our own career narratives.
We should be wary of employers who idolize individual stars and dismiss the role of teams. In interviews, we can ask how collaboration works, how success is measured and how failure is handled. We can choose to align ourselves with organizations that value contribution over charisma. For those in leadership roles, we can model the humility real collaboration requires.
None of this means we stop striving for excellence, but it does mean we stop pretending excellence lives in one person. The best ideas often emerge from disagreement. The smartest decisions come after feedback. The most effective solutions are built through iteration.
Greatness isn’t a lightning strike. It’s a relay race.
Perhaps the most radical message in The Genius Myth is this: the story we tell about how great things happen matters. If we tell the story of the lone genius, we will reward isolation, ego and entitlement. But if we tell the story of the team, we will reward listening, learning and shared success.
It’s not just a better story. It’s a truer one.
We are all the stewards of workplace culture. We help decide what gets noticed, celebrated and retained. Let’s stop feeding the myth. Let’s make space for brilliance to be something that emerges between people, not from above them.
After all, the best workplaces don’t run on genius. They run on trust, effort and the quiet power of people working well together.
Tory McNally, CPHR, BSc., vice-president, professional services, is a human resource consultant, radio personality and problem solver. She can be reached at [email protected]
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