Why I’d Rather Be Challenged Than Comfortable
We often think intelligence shows up in perfect test scores, elite degrees, or being the loudest voice in a meeting. But the older I get, the more I believe that real intelligence is something quieter—and harder to measure. It’s the ability to connect with anyone, anywhere.
Whether it’s chatting with a janitor, a street vendor, a five-year-old, or the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, the truly brilliant people I’ve met are the ones who can switch registers without condescending or posturing. They can hold space in a high-level boardroom and still share a joke with a stranger on the train. That, to me, is genius: the ability to build bridges across worlds.
Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone (2000) introduced the idea that our society thrives on social capital—the invisible glue that holds communities together. He breaks it down into two types:
Bonding social capital refers to strong ties among similar people: your family, close friends, the group chats where you don’t need to explain yourself.
Bridging social capital, on the other hand, is about forming connections across difference—between races, classes, faiths, or political identities. It’s harder to build, but it’s what fuels real empathy, innovation, and progress.
Putnam argues that we’re experiencing a major decline in both types—but especially bridging. As our physical neighborhoods, schools, and social platforms become more siloed, it’s easier than ever to stay in our bubbles. As one urbanist (@jonjon.jpeg) puts it, our modern infrastructure often “exploits bonded social capital and erodes bridging social capital.” In other words, we’re more connected to people like us—but more distant from everyone else.
And this matters. Not just for democracy or society—but for who we become as people.
There’s something deeply humbling—and incredibly rewarding—about feeling out of your depth in a room full of brilliant minds. Not because you’re not capable, but because you’re in a space that stretches you. That’s how I felt during my time at Harvard. It wasn’t about imposter syndrome. It was about being surrounded by people who challenged me to think sharper, ask better questions, and communicate with more intention.
I didn’t want to be the one with all the answers. I wanted to be in the kind of space where I had to grow to keep up. And I’ve come to believe that’s where real development happens—not when you’re the most polished person in the room, but when you’re surrounded by people who inspire you to rise.
Growth doesn’t come from staying comfortable. It comes from being around people who are thinking bigger, dreaming wider, and living with purpose—and being willing to step into that energy, even when it’s intimidating.
I’ve also seen this play out in my own family. My parents worked incredibly hard to give me access to better education—not just what they could afford, but what they aspired to. In many Asian families—or in communities where education is seen as a pathway to mobility—parents will go above and beyond to enroll their children in international or private schools. It’s not just about academics. It’s about the environment. It motivates the parents. It expands the child’s worldview. It plants seeds of possibility.
It’s a personal hypothesis of mine, but I’ve noticed that being surrounded by driven, diverse, and well-resourced communities can shape you just by osmosis. That’s why I’d rather be the “least experienced” in a strong community than the most established in a stagnant one. Because being around excellence, curiosity, and ambition rubs off on you. You absorb it.
In today’s world—where social media algorithms sharpen echo chambers and verified users drive polarization (Ferraz de Arruda et al., 2023)—we need bridging more than ever. We need people who can build ties across divides. Who can talk to everyone. Who understand that connection is intelligence.
So yeah, I don’t just want to be smart. I want to be someone who gets people. All people. Because that’s the kind of understanding that actually moves the world forward.
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References
Ferraz de Arruda, G., et al. (2023). Verified users on social media networks drive polarization and the formation of echo chambers, study finds. iScience. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.isci.2023.108375
Putnam, R. D. (2000). Bowling alone: The collapse and revival of American community. Simon & Schuster.
