Over the past couple of centuries, the boundaries of genius have been used to justify eugenics, consolidate power, and excuse eccentric and even morally egregious behaviour.

This, Helen Lewis argues, grew from a shift to a secular world, wherein brilliance is no longer the guarded realm of religious authority or divine inspiration, but instead anchored in the fullness of the individual.

Her book offers a sweeping, entertaining, and at times disconcerting read of the new scaffolding of mythology that genius now demands. She moves in three parts, from its identification, measurement, and, sometimes, weaponisation by “genius hunters”; through the creation of and care for dominant archetypes of genius, such as lone rebels and tortured artists; to the extreme veneration of “hardcore” genius in the modern market- and tech-driven world—personified by Elon Musk.

Along the way she interrogates the obsessions of Great Man theory, inherited greatness, and IQ tests, and she pokes with wry humour at the self-justification, oversimplification, hubris, male dominance, and fetishisation surrounding her case studies.

While her examples—including Galileo, the Beatles, Hollywood biopics, and the anti-establishment pseudoscience unearthed by the Covid-19 pandemic—are drawn from her own interests, Lewis only hints at her own ideas of genius, its limits, and the purpose it might legitimately serve.

Instead, her argument focuses on undermining the persistent idea that geniuses constitute a special class of people, exempt from the social norms and moral expectations of the rest. By illustrating the stakes of this shift, Lewis issues an effective call for a more carefully tempered understanding of genius in our precarious times, one that celebrates creativity, innovation, and achievement rather than idolising a maker’s rarity and eccentricity.

By degrees unsettling, amusing, and prescient; a much-needed audit of a consuming idea.