Why do we need geniuses?
Why do we revere geniuses in society? Particularly when there is no guarantee that their powers will be used for good? For anyone who’s found this article through a Twitter link, you might have a sense of what I’m getting at.
I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of ‘genius’. What is it that defines those who we bestow that title upon? What are the sacrifices that are required to reach that level? And, most importantly, why is the idea of genius so revered?
For me, genius means finding ways to express something that is inately true for all of us, in a way that connects individually to each of us. It can exist in a strong of a pen, a line in a song, a page in a book. But it’s about finding new ways to say what we all know, or using old methods to break the mould of something new.
I’ve always felt that getting to that point, reaching a stage of being able to say something that transcends boundaries and speaks authentically to the rawest emotions within all of us, requires someone to have lived through deep pain or struggle. For a transformational form of genius to emerge, it seems to require an intrinsic link to anguish or suffering. And sadly that process has proved too much for many great names.
Janis Joplin. Jimi Hendrix. Kurt Cobain. Amy Winhouse. All members of the tragic ‘27 club’: an informal list consisting mostly of popular musicians, artists, actors, and other celebrities who died at age 27.
A 2019 academic study suggested that creativity peaks in our mid-twenties, calling out the age range of 25 - 29. This is when ‘Conceptual Innovators’ do their best work. For examples of this type, think of those names listed in the 27 Club above. Think of Albert Einstein who published his paper on relativity at 26. These types of genius fundamentally redefine concepts and outlooks on the world through their form of creative expression.
[If you’re like me and well beyond that stage of life, fear not. The study reveals that a second creative peak can also strike in our mid-50s, typically for ‘Experimenters’. Charles Darwin, Vivienne Westwood, Colonel Sanders, Morgan Freeman and many others are all examples of those who achieved success much later in life.]
Kanye West arguably reached the height of his musical achievement over the period 2004 - 2008. For many, he represented a form of revolutionary musical genius with this work. He turned 27 in 2004. In the almost two decades since, his family and friends have made frequent reference to his struggles with bipolar disorder. And it appears this may be a contributing factor to much of his recent notoriety.
And this is where I want to turn to a modern day genuis you may not have heard of.
Sometimes when I read articles like this, I skip watching the video until the end. Or watch some of it, and then stop. You’re going to need to watch this one all the way through before you go on - even when, especially when, it feels like it’s getting a little weird…
And? Did the Pringles and burritos set you up for what you expected?
…
I know didn't you watch it. Now, go back and find out about the lettuce.
… Right.
Did the gut punch from 05.00 hit you like it me? Like it hits everyone?
I first came across Bo Burnham in 2021 when he released his Netflix special, Inside, which has since gone on to win multiple Emmys and Grammys. Burnham is a comedian and musician fused into one. And Inside depicted his struggles with what it meant to reach an audience and make connections during the struggles of the COVID lockdowns.
He’s a performer.
But one who was raised on the internet. He was one of the original Youtube success stories. He’s been producing his irreverent, darkly humourous and edgy musical sketches since 2006. His videos have racked up over 650 million views.
Bo, more than most, knows the intense pressure of feeling like you have to perform in order to please others. It’s something he thinks we can all associate with in the era of social media; we’re all performers of a sort when we post anything, and everything.
The above song is taken from the Bo’s 2016 Netflix special Make Happy. It consists of 'silly' songs, packed full with clever lyrics, biting irony and neurotically planned lighting and musical arrangements.
And then, after an hour, he hits you with the truth of 'Can't Handle This Right Now'. He finishes the show, by putting a stop to his own performance. He gives a glimpse of the real Robert Pickering Burnham for the first time.
Listening to Bo made me realise why we need genius in this world.
They’re constantly searching for new ways to say: Please listen to me.
This type of performance reminds me of the humbling importance of what it means to truly listen to those who are important in our lives, in order to really hear what they’re trying to tell us.
Bo structures the first half of the song around seemingly inane jokes. His hands can’t fit into a Pringles can. His burrito is too full. He asks to be warned that not all of his stuff is going to fit into these natural confinements.
And then he spells it out for us; he can’t handle the fact that there’s too much going on inside him. It’s going to have to spill out, unless someone helps.
Throughout his whole production, he’s begging for his audience to listen to him and help him, but he drowns out his own requests with his ‘silly songs’ and musical theatre. He’s terrified of opening up enough to tell us what he needs, but desperately needs us to know.
He uses lighting and auto-tune as powerful storytelling distractions to hide his painful internal message; he does it all to give us what we want, at the expense of what he cannot give himself: happiness and acceptance.
Displays of genius can often inspire. They can spark controversy. They can be glossed over and discovered too late. But for me, their role in the world is a vital one:
Works of genius exist to remind us that every single one of us is trying to be heard in a world where it’s difficult to be understood.
Genius is subjective. But we all have those moments in our own lives that move us to question a previous idea, philosophy or thought. These moments can be big or small. They can exist in trying to communicate your fears to your partner. Or figuring out how to tell a sick relative whath they mean to you. Or trying to resign from your first job without letting anyone down. What we’re experiencing in that moment is someone asking to be heard. To be listened to. No matter what distractions we might be putting up around our requests.
When I think about Bo Burnham, I think about what it means to make yourself available to truly listen to what a partner, parent, child, best friend or perhaps even a stranger might be trying to say. Sometimes they’re saying it out loud, directly at us, but we get lost in the noise of our own lives and perceptions.
The reason we need geniuses like Burnham, or whoever represents that concept for you, is to remind us that everyone in life is struggling to say what they really need and looking for new ways to say it. Sometimes they’ll say it with lighting and auto-tune, and sometimes they’ll say it with a nervous smile. The question geniuses ask us to ask of ourselves, is are we ready to listen?
It’s easy to think of a million and one things to say across any number of issues, but it’s meaningful to give someone the power of being heard.
Listen to someone you care about today, and pay homage to the geniuses you admire.
Bo Burnham was 26 in 2016 when he released Make Happy.
He is now 32 and lives with his partner in Los Angeles, where he continues his career as a successful filmmaker.
There are so many great Bo Burnham songs, but if you’ve got time for one more, enjoy 1.52 below as Ray Romano experiences his own moment of genius; Bo telling him an old personal truth in his shocking new way: