Albert Einstein, regarded by many as the quintessential genius, was known as a “slow thinker”. Most probably the appellation alluded to the “mechanics” of his thinking, not the underlying neurophysiological processes. This installment on Genius will attempt a glimpse of the problem-solving mechanics and the collective personality of Einstein and others who, in the author’s view, are reasonably (albeit oxymoronically) characterized as “slow geniuses”.
Slow geniuses are of a type less inclined to seek the shortest distance between two points than to search for meaning in the space, points, and movement along the traverse. They fixate, not so much on solution as essence, seeking holistic resonance where most would contentedly settle for the interrogative’s bottom line; for them, the question is no less significant than the answer. They are often vague, intuitive gropers who are not averse to “winging it”. Frequently, and perhaps, at times, injudiciously, they will jettison their bags of scholarly tools lest they impede entry into those narrow, pitchy spaces–places within which may exist curled dimensions of meaning hitherto uncharted.
The thought processes of the slow genius may seem strange or disorderly, or obsessively redundant; but the appearance of one following one’s “gut” can be deceiving. Employing feedback looping, this genius examines and reexamines points in question with what, to the casual observer, would appear a Rain Man-like tolerance for monotony. Our genius is looking for chinks in a seemingly ironclad understanding, with or without benefit of the subtly different light of a recent insight. Occasionally, a hairline crack is revealed, though, more often than not, it is proven a mere craze. There are, however, occasions where, under seemingly serendipitous circumstances, such flaws are found to propagate deep beneath the surface. The slow genius understands that any such flaw might be part of a network, and that, as a consequence, the present clarity-impeding barrier could succumb to a well-placed, thoughtfully nuanced nudge, shattering under the weight of its own illogicality.
The characteristic “slowness” of the slow genius may be innate, or it may be something into which he or she has grown through years of creative pursuit. This is one who is, at times, ambivalent: resentful of his or her relative inability to “think on one’s feet”–particularly under social circumstance–but one who is undyingly, deeply grateful for a most profound gift. Invariably it is the gift–the light of one illumined–that burns away the fog of mixed emotion.
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| Albert Einstein |
