Funny, REH
----- Original Message ----- From: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>; <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Saturday, December 13, 2003 8:52 PM Subject: RE: [Futurework] They've lost my IQ score! > Seems like emotional intelligence does not corellate with IQ. > > It also seems, Keith, that no matter how smart Mensans are they can't seem > to keep their records straight. > > arthur > > -----Original Message----- > From: Keith Hudson [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] > Sent: Saturday, December 13, 2003 9:25 AM > To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] > Subject: [Futurework] They've lost my IQ score! > > > The following FT article about Mensa, the high IQ-score society, reminds me > that I have a beef with this organisation. As a young man, I took the Mensa > test because, at the time, I didn't quite know where or what I was and was > beginning to doubt my own sanity in a mild sort of way. As the most junior > of all junior clerks in a local government department I was shy, largely > lacking in confidence and found that my working colleagues and bosses would > throw curious side-glances at me when they saw the sorts of books and > magazines I was carrying about with me and reading at lunch-time. So I > quickly learned to hide whatever I was reading inside run-of-the-mill > newpapers and pretended to read the latter instead. I don't suppose that > fooled them one little bit, and they must have thought my furtive behaviour > was all the more strange. Also, whenever I was supposed to be carrying > important pieces of paper from one place to another in my home town, I > would slope off to the reference department of the town's central library > and feast myself for an hour on the magazines and journals there which I > couldn't have afforded or, indeed, didn't know existed otherwise. > > I had an intensely embarrassing experience on one occasion. I was sitting > reading a magazine whose title I can't now remember with a stack of two or > three more beside me which I was going to rifle through before going back > to the office. On the top of the stack was The Hibbert Journal and, > suddenly, it was lifted into the air by a man who appeared at my side. I > saw that he was one of my bosses. He leafed through it, replaced the > journal, gave me one of those looks which I had learned to receive so well > and said: "M'mm .... going into the church, are we, Hudson?". And then he > walked away, leaving me to hastily replace the magazines on their shelves > and scoot back to the office. Fortunately, he was a middle-ranking boss and > didn't rat on me. In fact, he treated me rather kindly after that in the > office, and more than once hinted that if I were to resume going to the > library again he wouldn't let on. > > But I was greatly mixed up. All my friends from school had gone to > university but my parents thought I had to get a job and, besides, I hadn't > been an academic success, to say the least. In fact, I hated school, > because it was putting on airs and graces then as it was trying to become a > member of the Independent Conference (called a public school in England). > So that's why, a few years later, I took the Mensa test in case it gave me > some clues about myself. In fact, I found the home-test so easy that when I > took the subsequent, strictly supervised test (something which Sathnam > Sanghera doesn't mention in the article below, so I question the IQ figure > that's mentioned) I reckoned that I could guess the marking system that the > test used. (If I remember rightly, two marks per correct answer in the > first section would give exactly 100, so I then guessed at five marks per > correct answer for the second section.) The first section was easy, but the > second section was difficult. I knew the questions I could answer, and I > knew the questions I couldn't answer, so I guessed those and applied a > marking factor for those. I then wrote my IQ at the top of the answer paper > before handing it in. > > To my surprise, or perhaps not, I found that the IQ score I had given > myself turned out to be plumb in the middle of the IQ range they gave me a > few days later in the post, together with my membership card. Well, I > enjoyed those Mensa pub meetings. For the first time in my life I was with > people who tended to read the same sorts of books and magazines that I did. > But it was obvious then that Mensa was really a sort of marriage bureau > and, as I was already taken for by then, I dropped out after a few months. > But apart from the Plymouth Brother chapel to which I had belonged many > years previously as a teenager, I had found myself, for the first time in > my life, with people I liked and who accepted me as one of their own. So I > owe Mensa a great deal actually and I get rather irritated when I come > across people who scorn Mensa -- I don't mean dim people but those who > would obviously pass a Mensa test but haven't the courage to try it just > for the experience. (I suppose Americans who have taken a SAT don't need a > formal IQ test.) > > I returned to Mensa more than 20 years later when I had become divorced and > in a new town where I didn't know anybody. I wrote to the Mensa office, > they looked up my IQ score in their filing system and gave me a new > membership card. Learning that the Bath group had dissolved a few years > before, I appointed myself chairman of a new branch, wrote around to Bath > Mensans, invited them to my flat, gave them coffee and biscuits, persuaded > them to appoint a competent group secretary and then resigned as chairman > all on the same evening. Once again, I enjoyed the meetings but didn't > attend them for more than a few months because I moved away from Bath for a > while after that. > > A couple of years ago I decided to re-join Mensa. The subject had come up > on Futurework List and, as I had recently left the two choirs in which I > used to sing because I had no more puff left for long phrases and was in > wont of new social activities, I decided to attend Mensa meetings again > here in Bath -- assuming that they were continuing. Indeed they were, I > discovered, but the Mensa office wouldn't let me rejoin! It was not because > they needed proof that my IQ had not sunk too low for membership -- which > it very probably has by now -- but because they had lost their records. At > least, it seemed that they had lost the records for the years when I'd > originally joined. So there we are. I'm now ex-Mensan without a current IQ. > > Why have I written all this? Well, partly as a jolly -- to recollect, as > old people boringly tend to do -- but also to remind ourselves (that is, if > you're still with me) that we're moving into a high-tech society now. > Increasingly, the lower-skill jobs are being automated, whether in retail, > service or manufacturing jobs, and those that are not automating so far are > tending to go abroad to China or India, and we are going to be increasingly > dependent on a high IQ, high-tech proportion of the population. There'll be > a residue of low skill jobs remaining, of course, and there'll be a > middle-skill band of jobs like plumbing, electrical work and suchlike, but > the value-creating and value-sustaining work will increasingly be done by a > minority which I'd put at about 20% now, but rising to something like 30% > in due course. But that will probably be the limit if only because there > won't be enough bright people to fill those jobs. > > So what should we do? Well, I think we should remember that although very > bright parents tend to produce bright children they are only ordinarily > bright, as it were, and, in turn their children are probably, on average, > going to be fairly near the average IQ of the whole population. Randomness > means that a convection current takes very high IQ (as also very low IQ) to > the middle within three or four generations at the most. Intelligence is > very much a matter of a fairly random re-arrangement of the genes > responsible for brain development. Looking at the population as a whole, > the brightest and the dimmest tend to produce children in the middle range, > while it is the mass of people in the middle who throw up the subnormal IQs > and also those very few geniuses on whom civilisation has depended. > > There are two alternative scenarios for tomorrow's world. We either try to > recreate natural communities again in which we all look after one another > on a local scale (doing it on a national scale is already proving to be a > financial failure) or we carry on as we are by having increasingly > efficient methods of selecting intelligent individuals and then scooping > them away from where they were born, sending them to university and then > onwards to the ends of the earth -- these days quite literally so. The > problem with the latter scenario is that if technological development > proceeds increasingly rapidly -- as it has done during the last century -- > then the convection currents of IQ distribution from one generation to > another as described above decreasingly applies. > > The high IQ portion of the population, instead of merging into the mass, > will tend to remain distinct from the rest. Not only this, but the > persistent use of selection for education as applied to the less talented > part of the population in order to find the increasngly rare genius will > act as a ratchet. In fact, it will be exactly the same effect that the > viscissitudes of our environment have had on the whole evolution of man as > we and the chimpanzees broke away from the original common stock. In those > times, the less succeeful were culled -- pretty tout de suite -- but in our > day, at least so far, we are carrying an increasingly larger part of a > dependent population and keeping them in reasonably good health. At least > they are not dying in large numbers. Not yet anyway. > > So we have a choice. Either we revert to the small communities of the past, > to which our behavioural instincts already predispose us and in which we > look after one another -- though thankful when the occasional very bright > individual is born (who will be increasingly able to be educated to the > very highest levels of scholarship on the Internet) -- or we continue with > the present selective tendency which takes them away from the community and > run the risk of producing two sub-species. Once this proceeds too far then > we know from evolutionary studies of many species that this form of > brachiation (known as sympatric speciation) cannot then be prevented. It > will proceed at a rapid pace. > > Just one correction should be made to Sathnam Sanghera's article. Mensans > are not geniuses and some geniuses would not pass the Mensa test. Some > geniuses are very bright, of course, often far above the entry level for > Mensa. But some are not. Genius is about obsessiveness in choosing > particular problems and persistence in tackling them. They shake a problem > to pieces as a dog does with a rat. This is what I am attempting to do in > the subject of economics because I think it is about time that it > established itself as a science like several other humanistic disciplines > have done recently. While I am certainly an ex-Mensan, I am not sure yet > whether I am a genius. > > Keith Hudson > > <<<< > IS MENSA DUMBING DOWN? > > Sathnam Sanghera > > The other week I learned something new and rather exciting about myself I > am a genius. At the invitation of Mensa, I spent 45 minutes completing > their Home Test, the first step you need to take to join the high IQ > society, sent it off in the post to be marked, and waited for the result. > > A letter came back a few days later saying I had an IQ of 155. To put this > in a bit of context the average IQ is 100; to qualify for Mensa, which > takes only the top 2 per cent of the population, you need an IQ of 148 or > above. A score of 155 puts me in the top 1 per cent. In short, I am very > clever indeed. > > But while this happy letter from Mensa confirmed what I had always quietly > suspected, it presented a problem. I had also got four colleagues to > complete the Home Test and was now terrified that they had fared worse than > me. I would have to tell them my brilliant score, they would have to face > the fact that they were not as bright as me, and, frankly, it would be > awkward. Nobody likes a show-off. > > My heart skipped a beat as they opened their respective envelopes. FT > columnist Lucy Kellaway was first. It was a relief to see the slight smirk > she had got 155 too. management editor Mike Skapinker was next. Again, that > giveaway smug grin. 155 too. Then it was Paul Solman, the deputy features > editor. A self-satisfied smile. 155. Ditto for employment correspondent > David Turner. > > In one way it was the ideal result - none of us were exposed as being > measurably dimmer than the rest. But I couldn't help feeling deflated. It's > fun being a genius, but when everyone around you is a genius too, it's not > so exciting. I began wondering about the accuracy of the Mensa test. Lucy > Kellaway, the genius that she is, did a calculation on the back of an > envelope showing that the likelihood of us all having an IQ of 155 was > somewhere around one in 24m. > > I fired off an e-mail to John Stevenage, the chief executive of Mensa, > asking why we had all attained the same fantastic score. His prompt reply > listed several possible explanations we all work for the same clever > newspaper so a high score is "quite possible" (our favourite explanation); > some of us might not have kept very strictly to the allotted 45 minutes > (our least favourite explanation); the Home Test is only a trial indicator > - in order to formally join Mensa you need to pass a more reliable > supervised IQ test, or submit a qualifying test score from an approved test. > > But my genius colleagues and I came up with an alternative theory Mensa is > so desperate for members that it flatters people who complete the free Home > Test in the hope that they will then sit a supervised IQ test and become > paid-up members. It's a horrible, cynical thing to suggest about a great > British institution such as Mensa - but could it be true? Surely Mensa > isn't that desperate? > > Unfortunately, membership figures for the society, which was set up in 1946 > by Lancelot Ware, a postgraduate Oxford student, and Roland Berrill, an > Australian with a private fortune, suggest that it might be. Membership in > the UK currently stands at a lowly 26,247 - the lowest figure in 15 years, > more than 17,400 below the figure 10 years ago, when membership reached an > all-time high of 43,652. While Mensa has a worldwide membership of 98,861, > British Mensa, the heart and home of the society, is in a very sorry state > indeed. > > So what has gone wrong? Well, pretty much everything. Mensa did very well > for a period between 1980 and 1997, when Sir Clive Sinclair was chairman, > growing from about 8,000 members to about 36,000 when he stepped down. The > expansion was the result of Sinclair's high public profile in the 1980's > and the work of chief executive Harold Gale, who aggressively increased > membership by placing Mensa puzzles and adverts in newspapers. > > But things went very wobbly in the mid-1990's when Gale was unceremoniously > sacked for running a small puzzle business out of Mensa offices. Though his > appeal to an industrial tribunal was successful, he never got over the > depression generated by the publicity. In 1997 the 55-year-old drove his > car into a railway bridge support arch. The official verdict was accidental > death, but those close to him believe he took his own life. Before setting > out he had left a note on his kitchen table. "It would have been better," > he was reported to have written, "if Sir Clive and the Mensa committee had > put a contract out on me than let me endure the last two years." > > Things continued to fall apart when Sir Clive was in 1997 replaced as > chairman by Julie Baxter, a sociable 45-year-old from Lancashire, the first > ever female chairman of Mensa. In 1998 she resigned following a vote of no > confidence passed at the society's annual meeting in Bournemouth. She had > already been sacked once before by the board but was reinstated by the > membership. She finally left threatening to set up a rival organisation, > complaining that Mensa's leaders were "sexist, manipulative and bullying" > and that there were "dark forces at work". > > Speaking at the Mensa headquarters in Wolverhampton, where the society's > collapse in membership has left the premises partially empty (they are > looking for smaller offices), Mensa's current leadership - 47-year-old > chief executive John Stevenage, and 55-year-old chairman Sylvia Herbert, a > freelance PR consultant, admit that Mensa has been through a very difficult > period. "In 1999 membership numbers were in freefall," says Stevenage. "It > was a bit like stopping the Titanic going down. But we seem to have > stabilised now." > > Asked to explain why membership has collapsed so spectacularly, the two > reel off contributing factors Mensa suffered as a result of bad publicity > over the Gale and Baxter affairs; the society can no longer afford to run > adverts in the papers ("money got tight in the 1990's"); the membership fee > has increased from £25 to £40; people have an increasingly large choice of > things to do with their leisure time. But there is, I would suggest, > another possibility Mensa has a serious, almost insurmountable image > problem. Rather than having cachet, membership of Mensa is now considered a > mark of social inadequacy. > > Again, it's a horrible thing to suggest, but I attended a recent Mensa > social evening in London to see whether or not my prejudices were well > placed. There are countless Mensa social meetings taking place every month > - many of them, called Special Interest Groups, focus on particular areas > of interest, ranging from board games to bible study to greyhound racing. > The meeting I went to was a fairly unexotic new members meeting in a pub > just off Oxford Street. > > As with nearly all Mensa gatherings, the men outnumbered the women around > two to one. And not everyone, of course, was a social misfit. But there > were certainly more than your average proportion of eccentrics in the > crowd. One middle-aged man arrived dressed in a yellow running top and > tight black hotpants, looking a little like one of the guys from that 118 > 118 advert (On asking whether he had just come back from a jog, I was told > "No, that's his casualwear."). There was also an elderly gentleman in a > tweed jacket who was using a tie as a belt. > > When I asked a few members why they had joined, they all, invariably, gave > the same answers to prove that they were intelligent, despite having no > flash academic qualifications; to meet like-minded people socially. Some of > them had even met their long-term partners through Mensa. It confirmed what > has long been said about the society, that it is essentially a social club > or even a dating agency for nerds - "somewhere for egg-heads to get laid", > or rather, somewhere for eggheads with chips on their shoulders to get > laid. The last thing I witnessed as I left the meeting were two members > snogging each other to death at the bar. > > "Mensa is essentially a social thing," says Herbert, who was recently the > face of Mensa in the BBC's IQ experiment, Test the Nation, and who > enthusiastically reveals that Mensa has heard of seven engagements between > members in the past 12 months. "If you have a high intellect sometimes > you're not understood by the general population. At Mensa you will find > like-minded people who will laugh at your jokes and that sort of thing." > > However, when it was originally founded, with the aim of recruiting the top > 1 per cent, rather than the top 2 per cent of the most intelligent people > in Britain, Mensa wasn't just perceived as a social club. There was talk of > members possibly advising governments. Even now it officially it has three > aims, of which only one is "to provide a stimulating social environment for > its members". The other two aims are "to identify and foster human > intelligence for the benefit of humanity" and "to encourage research into > the nature, characteristics, and uses of intelligence". > > Many Mensans have tried to get the society to do something useful, in line > with these latter aims, but efforts rarely get anywhere. In 1990 there was > talk of setting up a school in London for gifted children, but it didn't > happen. A while back a prominent member talked about setting up a sperm > bank, but that didn't happen either. A few years ago, Mensa International, > the umbrella organisation (national branches are almost completely > independent of each other) launched Mensa Intellectual Capital Ventures, to > offer advice to members who wanted to convert ideas and inventions into > reality. Nothing has hit the market yet. > > And this, perhaps, is the main reason why Mensa is doing so badly. It lacks > a sense of purpose. What is the point of a bunch of people with high IQ's > getting together? And surely IQ tests simply measure one's competence at IQ > tests rather indicating real "intelligence"? Besides, with the internet, > nerds now have thousands of opportunities to get in touch with each other - > ways that don't require the hassle of an IQ test. > > Mensa's leadership, of course, reject the suggestion that Mensa's time may > have been and gone. They say membership levels are stabilising, that a new > website next year will boost recruitment, and that it is becoming > fashionable to be clever. Stevenage is confident that Mensa can expand > commercially the international organisation has just signed a new global > publishing deal to release Mensa puzzle books, it is working on releasing a > Mensa board game, and Stevenage is pushing the Mensa brand into new areas. > "There's lots of potential - we could do IQ testing for companies." > > But Jane Baxter, the former Mensa chairman who was ousted a couple of years > ago, is not optimistic. "Where is Mensa going? Nowhere," declares the woman > who now runs an internet-based society called Atticus, designed to "explore > emotional intelligence in relation to religion, psychology and philosophy." > "It's outdated. There's a lot of social and professional mobility and > people just don't have a need for it. It's sad but I just don't think it's > very relevant." > > Harsh words, no doubt coloured by bitterness and rejection. But I can't > help thinking she may have a point. And what I think must count for > something -- I am a genius after all. > > Financial Times -- 12 December 2003 > >>>> > > > Keith Hudson, Bath, England, <www.evolutionary-economics.org> > > > _______________________________________________ > Futurework mailing list > [EMAIL PROTECTED] > http://scribe.uwaterloo.ca/mailman/listinfo/futurework > _______________________________________________ > Futurework mailing list > [EMAIL PROTECTED] > http://scribe.uwaterloo.ca/mailman/listinfo/futurework _______________________________________________ Futurework mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://scribe.uwaterloo.ca/mailman/listinfo/futurework
