“The best way to spot an idiot — look for the person who is cruel.”
Governor J.B. Pritzker of Illinois delivered these words during his Northwestern University Commencement Speech. Regardless of your political views or opinion of the man himself, this sentence is profound. In fact, the speech stands as one of the most compelling arguments I’ve ever heard linking intellect and kindness. Pritzker went on to elaborate:
“When we see someone who doesn’t look like us, or sound like us, or act like us, or love like us, or live like us, the first thought that crosses almost everyone’s brain is rooted in either fear or judgment or both. That’s evolution. We survived as a species by being suspicious of things that we aren’t familiar with. In order to be kind, we have to shut down that animal instinct and force our brain to travel a different pathway.”
This idea floored me. Pritzker wasn’t just offering platitudes; he was highlighting something fundamental about human behavior. Overcoming that primal instinct—our knee-jerk reaction to otherness—takes mental effort. It requires operating on a higher intellectual plane (i.e., not being an idiot). Empathy and compassion, he explained, are signs of an evolved mind. They demand the mental strength to move beyond the urge to mock or belittle others, which, let’s be honest, is the hallmark of small, unevolved thinking.
In other words, cruelty is the signature move of an idiot.
This might seem like a radical deduction, but let’s take a closer look. In today’s world, cruelty has been glorified. It’s seen as a tool for power—some kind of twisted proof of strength or strategy. Whether it’s on social media, in politics, or even in everyday interactions, cruelty has become a shortcut for grabbing attention and influence. Meanwhile, empathy and kindness are dismissed as weak, naive, or even counterproductive.
But I’m with Pritzker on this one. When someone leaves a trail of cruelty behind them, they’ve failed the basic test of what it means to be a functioning human in an advanced society. They’ve let their animal brain run the show, refusing to evolve past their fears and instincts. And here’s the kicker: this lack of evolution doesn’t just make them cruel; it makes them unimaginative. It makes them poor problem-solvers and uncreative thinkers, incapable of achieving the depth and richness of thought that come naturally to the most compassionate among us. If you missed it, that was another watered-down way of calling someone an idiot.
This idea aligns beautifully with the work of David Brooks, who frames this discussion in terms of how we treat each other in the small moments of daily life. He draws a sharp distinction between what he calls “Diminishers” and “Illuminators.” Diminishers reduce people to tools—they dismiss, stereotype, and ignore. Their world revolves entirely around themselves, and they see other people as obstacles, objects, or stepping stones to be used and discarded. These are the people who make others feel small, unseen, and unworthy. Sound familiar? It should—because Diminishers are everywhere.
On the other hand, Brooks describes Illuminators. These are the people who lift others up. They are genuinely curious, skilled at understanding, and deeply invested in making those around them feel valued and respected. Illuminators see the humanity in others and act accordingly. This isn’t an innate talent; it’s a cultivated skill. It’s a deliberate choice to operate with empathy, to ask meaningful questions, and to pay attention. Illuminators are the antidote to the Diminishers of the world, and—no surprise here—they’re also the ones who leave the most profound and lasting impact.
As Pritzker put it: “Over my many years in politics and business, I have found one thing to be universally true. The kindest person in the room is often the smartest.”
Let’s break that down, because this concept deserves more than a passing nod. Kindness, at its core, is not a weakness. It’s not a default setting for pushovers or an excuse for inaction. Kindness requires effort, intention, and, above all, strength. It’s about overriding the easy path—the path of judgment, dismissal, and cruelty—and choosing instead to connect.
Being kind isn’t about being nice for the sake of niceness. It’s about having the intellectual and emotional capacity to look beyond yourself, to see others fully, and to treat them with dignity. And let’s be honest, this isn’t easy. In a world that rewards hot takes and sharp elbows, it can feel like kindness is a liability. But nothing could be further from the truth. The smartest, most effective leaders, thinkers, and innovators in the world are kind—not because it’s convenient, but because it’s necessary.
Think about the most influential and inspiring people in your own life. Were they Diminishers—self-absorbed, dismissive, and cruel? Or were they Illuminators who made you feel seen, heard, and capable of more than you thought possible? I’d bet good money it’s the latter. And if we want to be those kinds of people—if we want to leave a mark on this world that matters—it starts with how we treat each other in the smallest, most mundane interactions.
So how do we avoid being idiots? How do we stop ourselves from defaulting to cruelty or indifference? Here are a few practical steps:
- Challenge your instincts. When you catch yourself making snap judgments about someone based on appearance, background, or behavior, pause. Ask yourself where that judgment is coming from. Is it rooted in fear or ignorance? If so, push past it.
- Choose curiosity. Instead of dismissing people who are different from you, get curious about them. Ask questions. Listen to their stories. This isn’t just about being polite; it’s about broadening your perspective and learning from others.
- Focus on impact. Every interaction you have leaves an imprint. Are you leaving people better than you found them, or worse? Are you making them feel valued, or dismissed? Being intentional about your impact is the first step toward being an Illuminator.
- Redefine strength. Strength isn’t about tearing others down; it’s about lifting them up. True strength is found in kindness, empathy, and the courage to connect, even when it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable.
- Practice kindness daily. Kindness isn’t a grand gesture; it’s a series of small choices. Hold the door. Make eye contact. Say thank you. These little moments add up, shaping not only how others see you, but also how you see yourself.
At the end of the day, the best way to spot an idiot is simple: look for cruelty. And the best way to avoid being one is equally straightforward: choose kindness. It’s not always easy, and it’s certainly not always popular, but it’s the only path to true strength, intelligence, and humanity.
As the year comes to a close and we stand on the edge of 2025, take a moment to reflect on the person you’ve been over the past year. Have your actions leaned more toward kindness or cruelty? Have you left people feeling bigger, brighter, and valued—or smaller, diminished, and unseen?
So here’s my challenge for you: Be an Illuminator. Be someone who lifts others up, who operates with empathy and strength, and who chooses connection over cruelty.
Happy New Year—Make 2025 the year you avoid idiots and, more importantly, don’t become one.
Keep on disrupting, my fellow disrupters.
Onward and upward,
Kristen
