Do You Know How Stupid You Are?

21st May 2018

Criminals come in all shapes and sizes, which is sometimes how they are caught. McArthur Wheeler was 5’6” but weighed 270 pounds when he set out to rob a Pittsburgh bank in early 1995. Yet he made no effort to conceal his body, as he was wearing the perfect disguise on his face. He strode calmly into the bank lobby, confidently ignoring security cameras, as he waved his gun at the tellers. Police quickly recovered clear footage of him and broadcast it on the evening news. The confidential tip line starting ringing minutes later. Within an hour, Mr Wheeler was in custody.

He was baffled at his arrest, but not half as confused as the Police, who didn’t understand why he kept repeating that he had “worn the juice”. It turned out that this master criminal had a cunning plan. Knowing that lemon juice worked as invisible ink, only becoming visible when held near to a heat source, Wheeler had a brainwave. He covered his face in lemon juice so that it wouldn’t be visible on security cameras. He was extremely confident of his plan, but just to be certain, he took a photo of himself beforehand on a Polaroid camera, which convinced him because it came out blank (possibly the world’s first selfie fail?). “But I wore the juice” he wailed as the cell door slammed.

McArthur Wheeler could simply have disappeared into the annals of dumb crooks, but for the work of two social psychologists from Cornell University, Justin Kruger and David Dunning. They were researching a curious phenomenon to do with self-awareness. What intrigued them about the robbery plot was why Wheeler believed with such certainty that he would be able to foil the security cameras with lemon juice on his face. He was clearly an incompetent robber, but not an unconfident one. Why was he so sure he would succeed?

It turns out; our brains are wired that way. The study ultimately demonstrated that the less competence an individual has in a specific task, the more inflated their perception of their own ability. Today, this phenomenon is known as the Dunning–Kruger effect.

It’s not absolute, you need some degree of knowledge to start with. If you never learn to drive a car, you will know that you can’t drive. However, those who do learn, but then drive badly, usually assess themselves as having much higher levels of ability than is actually the case. Conversely, research shows the very best drivers usually under-report and downplay their skill. The same is true for all aspects of human endeavour. Poor scholars think they will score higher than they do. Armchair critics believe they could coach their favourite team better than the professionals. People who consider themselves extremely funny often tell the worst jokes. Those who are supremely confident that they are the perfect spouse … you get the picture.

Actor John Cleese highlighted the Dunning-Kruger effect when he said: “If you’re very, very stupid, how can you possibly realize that you’re very, very stupid? You’d have to be relatively intelligent to realize how stupid you are.”

I share this not as some veiled comment on the intelligence of our pupils, who are generally extremely capable and remarkably self-aware of their academic abilities. Nor is it a subtle dig at side-line supporters who willingly share their insights into how the game should be played. Neither am I commenting upon the quality of any parent’s driving, joke-making or prowess as the perfect partner.

I like the Dunning–Kruger effect simply because it reinforces my love of humility. It has been my experience that the more competent a person is, the less they need to tell others of their ability. The very able are often quite self-deprecating. Whereas, over-confidence and arrogance often walk hand in hand. There is nothing more unattractive than someone who pushes their own barrow, especially if that barrow is empty.

Unashamedly, to pupils of all ages, I preach the virtues of being humble. Which should not be confused with a lack of confidence. It is possible to be modest and still be self-assured. In fact, that is an extremely endearing combination. Our best scholars, athletes, creatives and leaders let their performance do the talking.

Bromsgrove is not in the business of breeding better bank robbers, but if our pupils leave us with quiet confidence in their abilities and the intelligence and humility to know what they don’t know, I will be happy. Hiding your light helps nobody, but neither does shining it perpetually on your own face. Unless your face is covered in lemon juice of course.