Explore how platforms like MyIQ turn intelligence into performance. From online IQ scores to social validation, discover why being “smart” today often means looking clever, not thinking deeply.

When everyone’s a genius: the inflation of intelligence online

The internet has made intelligence visible – and in the process, hollow. Everywhere you look, there are quizzes that promise to measure cognitive strength, platforms like MyIQ.com offering instant validation, and endless threads of people comparing scores, abilities, and potential. What once felt private now functions as spectacle. The self no longer thinks; it performs intelligence.

In a world where every opinion is broadcast, knowledge has turned into a social currency. The smartest-sounding voice often wins, even if it says nothing new. The phenomenon has a name among psychologists: intellectual inflation. It describes the moment when the value of intelligence collapses because everyone believes they have it.

The rise of performative intelligence on MyIQ

Scroll through any feed and you’ll see it: screenshots of IQ results, word puzzles, and brain games tagged with #smart or #genius. The pattern is always the same – proof before personality. MyIQ has become part of that aesthetic. Sleek, data-driven, and instantly shareable, it allows users to broadcast self-knowledge as content. In myiq reviews, people admit they took the test for curiosity but stayed for the social validation. “It’s kind of fun to see where you land,” one user wrote, “but I mostly posted my score to see what others got.”

That admission says everything about how intelligence now functions online. The value isn’t in the number itself – it’s in the visibility of having one. A MyIQ.com badge becomes an accessory, like a LinkedIn certification or a personality type. It signals participation in a collective narrative of competence.

The paradox of confidence

Psychologists have been tracking a growing gap between perceived and measured ability. Studies show that people consistently overestimate their intellect when it’s framed publicly. Social media amplifies this bias. Every statement is a miniature IQ test, and likes are the new percentile ranks. The Reddit post that started with “Just received myIQ score and had a reality check” stood out precisely because it refused the performance. Scoring 110, the author laughed at himself – “My salary and life are both average, so it all makes sense.” It was a rare moment of deflation in a space addicted to inflation.

That post resonated not because it mocked testing, but because it punctured the illusion that intelligence guarantees distinction. It reminded readers that intellect has always been relative – and that being average is, statistically, the most human thing there is.

When smart becomes shallow

The internet rewards cleverness that fits into captions. Intelligence, once tied to complexity, now thrives on brevity. Users cite studies they haven’t read, repeat theories out of context, and post their MyIQ scores as proof of self-awareness. This compression of intellect into shareable moments is what sociologists call fast knowledge: thought stripped of patience.

Platforms like myiq com thrive precisely because of that speed. They make intelligence consumable – a product rather than a process. For a generation raised on dopamine feedback loops, a quick test result feels like progress. The irony is that it produces the opposite: the illusion of mastery without the discomfort of learning.

Deflating the myth

The Reddit user who accepted his score may have done something quietly revolutionary. In a culture where everyone wants to be exceptional, acknowledging ordinariness is an act of resistance. His honesty mirrored what’s missing from most myiq reviews: humility. The willingness to admit that intelligence doesn’t exempt us from confusion, mistakes, or mediocrity.

Perhaps that’s where the next evolution of intellect begins – not in measuring how much we know, but in recognizing what we don’t. MyIQ might be the stage where this new realism unfolds. A place where the smartest person in the room finally says, “I’m not a genius. I’m just paying attention.” And maybe that’s what brilliance really is now: not certainty, but clarity.