Why Intelligence Is a Brand

How "smart" became a status symbol

Long before the Thought Daughter was born, intelligence left the mind and entered the marketplace. It became aspirational, something to wear as much as to be. This is no coincidence.

Intelligence is no longer just a mental trait but rather a cultural product, sold in aesthetics, posted as credentials, and displayed for status.

But what is even a brand?

The Cambridge Dictionary defines it as “a name, term, design, symbol, or any other feature that identifies one seller’s goods or services as distinct.” Yet, a brand is more than just a label on a product. It is used to strategically signal values, personality, and purpose, aligning with the company or a person. It is the exact moment when you can point and say, “That’s so them!” Branding, meanwhile, is the intentional projection of those traits.

In a broader sense, intelligence and brands both function as status indicators. Being seen as “smart” garners trust, credibility, and influence, just as wearing a Rolex or driving a Rolls-Royce. In both cases, it is less about the inherent quality and more about the impression it creates.

However, intelligence also serves as both a personal and cultural differentiator. It has many faces, some easily recognized, such as creativity, quick wit, academic success, or problem-solving skills. Others are less acknowledged, such as the ability to ask better questions and adapt quickly to different situations. In recent years, interest from the general public and companies alike has grown.

The fuel?

Advancements in AI and a rising focus on cognitive enhancement. Visions of a future filled with AI-enhanced, super-intelligent humans or “AI-first” companies come to mind. By striving towards this future, everything becomes “smart.”

This is why I will refer to intelligence more broadly as the intellectual ability that includes emotional and creative intelligence, not limited to IQ or academic performance.

During a time when experts are distrusted and facts are contested, credibility gains new significance. In an era marked by misinformation and the erosion of consensus reality, being perceived as informed is no longer just admirable. It is political. With the rise of anti-intellectualism, branding yourself as becomes an act of resistance. Striving toward intelligence, knowledge, and facts reflects not just a rebellion against ignorance. It also reveals a deeper desire for agency, clarity, and control in an uncertain world.

However, this is not entirely the case.

While society often resents overt displays of intelligence in individuals, the desire to be smarter has quietly become a cultural obsession. In recent years, especially the market around “self-help” prided themselves with helping their customers become more intelligent and, as a reault, more successful. From self-help books and productivity apps to YouTube video essays and brain-training games, intelligence is treated as aspirational currency: something to pursue, enhance, and display. Like wealth or beauty, being perceived as intelligent comes with social rewards. Everyone wants to be (or at least appear) smarter than they are. This is not only for personal growth.

In a world flooded with information, the ability to discern what matters and what does not has become a new form of power.

Intelligence holds power because it creates power. Across politics, business, science, and art, intellectual ability enables strategy, fuels innovation, and drives cultural production: from writing and philosophy to filmmaking and design. Those perceived as intelligent often earn not just professional success but social rewards: admiration, higher salaries, and greater autonomy. This power is reinforced by institutional recognition. Think of Nobel Prizes, Ivy League diplomas, or TED Talks are markers of intelligence that serve as cultural endorsements. These signals elevate individuals to leadership roles and make their voices more trusted.

The brand of intelligence can also reinforce fundamental ideals of a country.

In many ways, intelligence fits neatly into the illusion of the American Dream: the belief that anyone who works hard and studies smart will succeed. This makes intelligence seem meritocratic as the ultimate proof of effort and potential. Yet, the reality is more complex. Intelligence is often inherited, shaped by privilege, or gatekept by elite institutions.

Still, the myth persists.

And like all powerful brands, intelligence is both admired and resented. Public figures like Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg are seen as visionary minds by some, yet also mocked, distrusted, or called out for arrogance (not least for their political stances). Smartness, when overly visible, can attract as much suspicion as praise; especially in cultures wary of elitism. From Aristoteles to Simone de Beauvoir, revolutionairy thinkers have been challenged and, in case of Aristoteles, lost their life for questioning the status quo.

The branding of intelligence is no new story. It is a tale as old as history itself. Traditionally, intelligence was a marker of safety, class, and access. It meant freedom from physical labor and closer proximity to power. Across cultures, societies have admired intellectual greatness: child prodigies, polymaths, and tortured geniuses have long held symbolic status. Intelligence was romanticized, mythologized, and often reserved for the privileged few. Today’s obsession with being smart is simply a modern expression of this enduring dynamic, just packaged in sharper aesthetics, sharper tech, and smarter-sounding platforms.

Across time, certain figures have become cultural shorthand for intellectual prestige. In science, no image is more iconic than Albert Einstein. He represents a universal symbol of genius, merchandised on mugs and memes he could hardly consent to. In classic literature, authors like Sylvia Plath, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, and Jane Austen have come to represent the kind of “prestige” books displayed on shelves not just for reading, but as subtle social capital. Philosophers like Camus, Kant, de Beauvoir, and the ancient Greeks are still quoted, sometimes seriously, sometimes ironically, to signal depth or dissent. Thinkers like Machiavelli and Rousseau wielded power not by office but by the reach of their ideas. Just to name a few.

The late 1990s and early 2000s saw a wave of pop culture that celebrated smartness, especially among young women. Characters like Rory Gilmore, Elle Woods, and Cher Horowitz painted intelligence as cool, romantic, and desirable. In the shadow of 9/11, however, American media briefly shifted toward patriotism and meritocracy, sidelining intellectual cool in favor of conformity. During the pandemic, intelligence made a cultural comeback. The rise of dark academia, the quoting of classics on TikTok, and the renewed fantasy of elite East Coast universities all revealed a longing for intellectual identity and structure in uncertain times.

Yet much of what emerged was more aesthetic than intellectual. Styles like Downtown Girl, with oversized sweaters, tote bags, and bookish vibes, created a “smart look” that did not require actual depth. The appeal lay in the appearance of intelligence rather than its practice. In this way, intelligence became a surfac: a brandable, wearable identity, separate from substance.

Nowhere is this shift more visible than in the rise of the Literary It Girl archetype. Intelligence has become a form of empowerment, especially for women, framed around being well-read, independent, and internally driven. Brands and platforms have capitalized on this, marketing books, courses, aesthetics, and mindsets that help women signal competence and ambition. Interestingly, few male equivalents exist at the same cultural scale. This cultural phenomenon has become both a symbol and a consumer, proof that in today’s world, intelligence does not just influence status; it also sells. And if you look at the growth of the publishing industry, you’ll notice that it sells very well.

The modern face of intelligence is increasingly feminized, democratized, and commodified. The Literary It Girl has emerged as both empowering and marketable: she is well-read, articulate, ambitious, and independent. This identity is widely promoted on social media, through book lists, study vlogs, and lifestyle aesthetics that blend intellect with visual appeal. It is a cultural role model marketed largely toward women, with few male equivalents on the same scale highlighting how intelligence today is as much about identity as it is about ability.

Social media has helped democratize access to intellectual visibility. Microphones and audiences are no longer reserved for the elite; now, TikTok theorists, YouTube explainers, and Substack writers all claim space in the conversation. This shift has broadened who gets to be seen as intelligent and “worthy” of immense audiences, moving away from the lone genius toward a more collective, distributed model of knowledge. But with this democratization comes saturation: an overload of voices, ideas, and performances competing for attention.

Yet this visibility brings backlash. With the rise of anti-intellectualism, distrust toward universities, experts, and data is growing. Simultaneously, those branded as intelligent often pay a psychological price. Many experience anxiety, burnout, or a crisis of identity, especially young people who become hyper-visible through going viral. The “gifted kid burnout” phenomenon reflects a deeper issue: when intelligence becomes a brand, it also becomes a burden.

So… what is coming next? Like any brand, intelligence will continue to evolve across platforms. From AI apps and curated book clubs to premium newsletters and podcast personas, smartness will be packaged and sold in increasingly sophisticated ways.

It will change, but branding intelligence is not going anywhere. It is simply too useful. But if the current trend of hostility toward intellectuals continues to rise, the branding of intelligence may shift underground, become more ironic, or lose its high-status shine.

In today’s culture, intelligence is no longer a quiet trait. It is a performance, an aesthetic, and a branding tool. Like any brand, it reflects our values, hierarchies, and aspirations. And as society increasingly rewards perception over depth, the question morphs from “Are you smart?” to “How are you packaging it?”

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Thanks so much for reading all the way through. Writing about intelligence as both a cultural brand and a deeply personal experience made me reflect on how complicated and sometimes contradictory it can feel to “be smart” today. I hope this essay sparks some thoughts, or even a smile. Feel free to share your own experiences or push back; I’d love to hear your take. At the end of the day, we’re all figuring this out together.

See you soon!

Second Glance