Author: TheTranscript

By: Dr. Thomas Wolber 

As a teacher, I have long felt that intelligence is overrated. It alone does not lead to successful outcomes. Over the years I have seen many smart students fail, and I have seen students with average intelligence and sophistication do well. You do not need to be super smart to succeed. Whether you achieve your goals or not is determined less by your cognitive abilities than by noncognitive factors such as personality and grit. Character is at least as important as intellect.

You have heard the word “grit” before. These days it is widely used – in education, athletics, the military and the job market. But what exactly is it? What are the necessary components? Why is it important and why do employers seem to value it above everything else?

Let’s start with the dictionary and the original etymological meaning of the word. Like many other four-letter words of the English language, it has a Germanic origin, suggesting deep roots indeed. Grit is far removed from the French Enlightenment and modern intellectualism. You are more likely to find it in your guts than in your brain. In Old Icelandic, the word “grit” meant “stone, pebble, rock, boulder.” No wonder then the dictionary defines grit as “firmness of character, indomitable spirit, pluck” and lists “resolution, fortitude” as synonyms. Other words to describe “grit” may include ambition, dedication, determination, drive, endurance, hardiness, passion, perseverance, persistence, resilience, stamina, steadfastness, tenacity, toughness, zeal, zest and the like.

Thus, we can now define grit as “the will to act and succeed,” “the refusal to fail,” “the strength to overcome adversity,” “the tenacity to achieve long-term goals,” “the ability to face challenges,” “the capacity to set and accomplish goals,” “the capability to deal with failure,” “the determination to pull yourself through a crisis,” “fire in the belly,” and so on.

If it is your long-term goal to graduate from Ohio Wesleyan within four years and with a good GPA, then, yes, grit is definitely something you should have. Teachers agree that for educational attainment it is more important than anything else, certainly more important than mere brainpower. An average, hard-working student with a fair amount of grit will always outperform an intellectual dreamer who lacks purpose and willpower and fails to act. In my experience, grit trumps intelligence.

Grit is an individual’s most important asset. An increasing number of schools and employers agree that intelligence is an unreliable indicator of future success, which is why they value grit more and more. Yes, raw and natural talent does matter, but to become an accomplished farmer, car mechanic, athlete, translator, doctor, or musician first and foremost requires years and years of theoretical schooling and practical experience. Learning is demanding, and there are no short cuts. Studies have shown that gritty individuals work longer and harder than others, which is why they succeed where others fail.

This observation has serious implications for education and the labor market. If grit matters more than mere intelligence, why do schools continue to focus on cognitive intelligence and academic performance? Should we not equally emphasize noncognitive abilities such as emotional and social intelligence, interpersonal skills, maturity, fairness, curiosity, generosity, kindness, self-control, leadership, integrity, honesty, creativity, fearlessness, and so on?

For example, some of the smartest students go into medicine, but sometimes they sorely lack qualities such as compassion and empathy. A high IQ and phenomenal SAT and ACT scores alone mean little. Shouldn’t there be a healthy balance of cognitive and noncognitive skills? Aren’t schools setting students up for long-term failure if they don’t inculcate character development with the same zest as they do academic preparation?

We are faced with a fundamental paradox here. Academic instruction is entirely knowledge-based. A student’s transcript reflects academic performance but reveals little or nothing about that student’s personality. But the recommendation letters we teachers write for study abroad, assistantships, fellowships, employment, government jobs and graduate schools often stress entirely different qualities than those we impart in the classroom. A checklist I filled out recently listed “academic ability” as only one of 12 characteristics!

A while back, I conducted an inventory of the many noncognitive factors that employers explicitly inquire about, and I came up with a list of over 30 even though I counted things like “reliability, dependability, responsibility” as only one item. A surprising number of employers require things like “physical vitality, agility, vigor, stamina,” including “manual dexterity.” “Behavior under stress, pressure, strain” is important, and “integrity, honesty, trustworthiness” matters a lot. The list goes on and on. Ironically, however, you will not find many of these traits on academic syllabi or discussed in class. Is this something K-12 schools and colleges should have a conversation about? I have heard of schools where students graduate not only with a GPA, but also with a CPA – a character-point average. It may be hard to implement such as program, but there seems to be a certain need and demand for it.

One last point – it has been said the focus on grit alone may lead to egotism and careerism. Being too gritty can have the potential of making you insensitive to the feelings and needs of others and can lead to neglecting community, social responsibility, and the public good.

The way I see it, however, character-based education does not have to be disconnected from morality and ethics – on the contrary! Performance character and moral character are linked and complement each other. For example, there is a social stigma against performance-enhancing tricks such as corruption, cheating, and doping. Besides, the quest for fame and fortune is typically not high on the priority list of gritty individuals.

OWU’s Statement of Aims provides a good example for such a balance. It states knowledge, character (grit) and values form the basis for a liberal arts education. All three are needed to be prepared for life and to become a happy, successful human being. The foundation would be shaky indeed if any one of the three elements were missing. None can stand alone, but together they form the bedrock that will sustain you throughout life.

Dr. Thomas Wolber is an associate professor of German at Ohio Wesleyan.  He teaches all levels of German language, literature and civilization. In addition to those subjects, he specializes in comparative literature and environmental studies.

By Ashley Biser

Last week, professor Erin Flynn shared in The Transcript “Notes on the concept of (white, male) privilege.” In his piece, he argued the concept of privilege is problematic, not because it does not exist, but because it is “a potentially poor basis of political response to those painful and all too familiar patterns of injustice.”

I applaud Flynn for airing these concerns and discussing the concept of privilege in The Transcript. But he is wrong — both about what privilege is and the political work it accomplishes. First, the basic definition: privilege is not primarily about what an individual deserves; it is the idea that by virtue of one’s membership in a particular social group (men, white people, straight people, able-bodied people), we accrue as a group systematic advantages that are unavailable to those who are different. In this sense, privilege is not a theoretical concept, but a fact. For example, by virtue of the fact that I am able-bodied, I can navigate the world more easily than those who are not. I can watch Netflix without wondering which movies will be captioned or whether there will be people like me represented in them; I can get to my classrooms without worrying whether there is an elevator in the building; I can visit a new city and expect to be able to use public transportation easily. Because I was born able-bodied, I do not have to think about these advantages, but they are still operating in my favor. While each instance might seem insignificant, over time, these advantages add up—making my life easier insofar as I am not constrained by physical disabilities. This does not mean that I will never encounter obstacles, some of which will be based on other aspects of my social identity, such as my gender. Nor does the concept of privilege imply that my life will be free from pain and sorrow. But the pains and sorrows I experience will be based on my own particular life circumstances, not on the basis of being disabled. The concept of privilege just asks me to acknowledge that I live in a system that is designed for able-bodied people and makes life harder for those who are not part of that group. Hopefully, once I acknowledge that fact, I will be better equipped to fight for a system in which all people can flourish — regardless of physical ability.

According to Flynn, the problem with describing these advantages in terms of privilege is that implies that all experiences of white (or male, or heterosexual, or able-bodied) privilege are the same. But surely, we can see that not all able-bodied people have similar experiences of the world. An able-bodied woman will experience privilege differently than an able-bodied man. Just as a black woman born to a wealthy family will experience the world differently than a poor white man — just as will any two white, straight, able-bodied, cisgender men. As Hannah Arendt reminds us, “we are all the same, that is, human, in such a way that nobody is ever the same as anyone else who ever lived, lives or will live.”

Flynn worries that the concept of privilege covers over these individual differences and obscures the fact that sometimes “class transcends race” (and vice versa). But the point of recognizing privilege isn’t to set different experiences of discrimination up against another and vie for who is most oppressed; the point is to recognize the intersections between various forms of oppression and never fool ourselves into thinking that we are immune from prejudice. Just because I do not believe I am prejudiced against those who are disabled does not mean that I do not benefit from the systematic ways in which able-bodiedness is privileged in our society. We have to resist the age-old tendency to set oppressed people against each other and instead recognize that many forms of injustice share similar roots. The question isn’t who has it worse, but how can we make it better.

Moreover, in his desire to recognize the “richness, variety and complexity of social life,” Flynn misses the fact that it is precisely this experience of being recognized as a unique individual that is denied to those who are not white, male, heterosexual, upper-class, able-bodied, etc. In fact, it is a privilege to be treated as an individual, with a specific life story, deserving of recognition. It is precisely this experience, of being judged on one’s own merits — and not assumed to fit into a mold fashioned by prejudice — that those of us interested in justice, like Flynn and myself, desire for everyone.

In his post, Flynn also wonders what happens when we see basic human rights — such as the right to be free from physical coercion or harm — as privileges instead of as rights. I understand his concern; the language of rights is powerful. To speak of violated rights implies that everyone deserves physical security, not because some magnanimous entity has decreed so, but simply by virtue of our existence. However, for those to whom they are denied, rights do not exist. So long as African-American men are more likely to be shot by the police, women’s bodies can be subjected to medical procedures without their consent and transgender persons are disproportionately victims of violence, the so-called “right” to be free from physical coercion or harm is a dangerous myth. In a different context, marriage is not a “right” so long as only heterosexual couples can participate in its benefits. The concept of privilege draws our attention to the disjuncture between right and privilege — emphasizing that what might appear to be a right is not universally experienced as such. So long as “rights” can be categorically denied to entire sectors of our society, we cannot call them rights; they are simply privileges accorded to the few in the service of protecting those in power.

The concept of privilege also forces us to recognize that rights aren’t the culmination of struggles for justice. Don’t get me wrong. Legal rights are a crucial component of a just society. But the concept of privilege draws our attention to other myriad, sometimes seemingly trivial, ways that racism, classism, ableism, chauvinism, homophobia, etc. seep into our lives — even once legal rights have been secured. Take, for example, my experience of able-bodied privilege: is it a “right” to watch Netflix? Is it anyone’s “right” to see people like themselves represented on screen? No. But these privileges are nonetheless significant. My ability to easily access information affects how I can participate in the world, and the presence of people who look like me on television sets the parameters for what is considered “normal” and socially acceptable.

According to Flynn, the concept of privilege focuses on attacking what some (privileged) people have, rather than fighting for the rights others lack. In this sense, he worries that the concept of privilege might become tinged with what Nietzsche terms ressentiment—a “potentially toxic mix of resentment and envy” that embodies the desire to somehow strike back at those more powerful than ourselves. Flynn worries that calling people out on their privilege “becomes just a way of lashing out and ridiculing, of feeling a sense of superiority which one does not experience as socially real, by demeaning or lowering the status of another.” To some extent, I can see his worry. If the concept of privilege were simply a means of belittling the successes of powerful individuals, it would, indeed, be a vengeful concept. But, again, privilege is not about individual accomplishments and deserts. It is a concept designed to help draw attention to the systematic ways in which life is easier and more just for some and not others. All of us lead very different lives within the context of societal structures, filled with our own personal challenges and accomplishments. Nietzsche develops the concept of ressentiment to think about how those who are weak and undeserving react toward those who are stronger and bolder. What the concept of privilege teaches us, however, is that no matter how strong and bold and deserving someone is, some people have more obstacles to overcome than others.

Considering that Nietzsche excelled at questioning our most deeply-held assumptions — about God, morality, freedom, etc. — it seems to me fitting to think about the concept of privilege as doing similar political work: provoking us to rethink our basic assumptions about what is fair and just in our society. The purpose of recognizing my own privilege as an able-bodied, white, cisgender woman, is not to take away from my (or anyone else’s) accomplishments, but to help me better empathize with those whose experiences are fundamentally different than my own. At best, “checking” my privilege means that I make sure to listen more carefully to those who have historically been silenced and work more diligently to dismantle societal structures that contribute to white, male, cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied, and class privilege. At the very least, I need to be aware of my own participation in perpetuating injustice. The language of privilege serves as a reminder to do so. I don’t deny that the concept can sometimes ruffle people’s feathers and engender unproductive conversations about guilt. But that is why it is powerful; unless we are uncomfortable, we will not act. For my part, the time to give up on the concept of privilege will be when privilege ceases to exist. The discomfort that all of us feel in recognizing our own privilege (be it racial, class, gender, etc.) is precisely the point.

Ashley Biser is an assistant professor of politics and government at Ohio Wesleyan. Her expertise is in contemporary political theory, and she teaches such courses as Democracy and Its Critics, Classical Issues in Political Theory, American Political Thought, and Political Theory, Science and Technology, as well as the introductory politics and government course.