That’s the question I set out to answer this week for New Scientist. The idea was to look at the science of stupidity, but it took me a good couple of weeks to stop hitting brick walls in my research. Respectable scientists don’t like to talk about stupidity. “Stupidity is an evaluative term,” Alan Baddeley told me, “not a scientific one.” Baddeley is a psychologist at the University of York who studies working memory. “[Stupidity] has not been studied because it is neither sensible nor useful to do so,” he says. So instead, psychologists study intelligence.
I sympathize with Baddeley’s aversion. Attempts to locate stupidity somewhere specific — whether that’s people, cultures or other groups — often seem to leave us in problematic territory.
My next stop was Professor Google. Another bad idea. Depending on your search terms, the first results lead you to the Darwin awards. A funny idea at first blush, but there’s something soul-crushing about the idea that someone has gleefully assembled a compendium of these terrible tragedies. And apart from lending support to some ugly stereotypes, the Darwin awards provide no great insight into the nature of stupidity, merely confirmation of its existence.
This was frustrating. How could something so ubiquitous be so elusive? I mean, there’s no shortage of examples in my own life — both committed against me and by me. Stupidity seems like it should be added to the list that includes death and taxes. Why isn’t anyone studying it? Continue reading







