Why the Intelligence Gap Really Matters

E arlier this year , a woman posted on Threads that a man she had been dating dumped her after discovering that she had a library card.

She shared a screenshot of what she said was the man’s “breakup text,” in which the writer accused her of “wasting hours” like “some little kid playing pretend smart” and excoriated her for failing to satisfy him sexually: “Reading books? Really? While I’m sitting here with actual needs!!” The internet, of course, reacted.

Memes and think pieces abounded.

These responses weren’t just gasps of outrage at the man’s dismissal of literacy and his base sense of entitlement.

They also captured a particular kind of anxiety about a sometimes highly sensitive question related to romantic compatibility: What happens when you and your partner are on a different intellectual plane? I didn’t always have language for this type of gap.

Growing up and attending church, I heard a lot about the biblical caution to “not be unequally yoked” to a mate, invoked to warn Christians against consorting with nonbelievers.

As I developed my own intellectual practice, during which I grew to believe that many sacred texts were best read figuratively, I came to understand the biblical advice differently.

To be equally yoked meant to walk forward together without one pulling harder than the other.

Basically, you don’t want one member of the pair to be missing the beat.

Over the years I worked on my doctoral dissertation, about the brilliant and tortured John Milton, my adviser and mentor was the acclaimed Miltonist Francis C.

Blessington .

In many of our conversations, he spoke fondly about the wit and wisdom of his wife, Ann Taylor, also a professor, and a writer in a completely different field.

As a young person, I think I took for granted the kind of similitude this couple shared.

At Blessington’s memorial service last fall, I eulogized him and met Taylor in person for the first time.