Steve Jobs, Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg didn't finish college.

The philosopher and risk thinker Nassim Nicholas Taleb, whose mind bridges the realms of mathematics, philosophy, and lived experience, once said: “Steve Jobs, Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg didn’t finish college. Too much emphasis is placed on formal education — I told my children not to worry about their grades but to enjoy learning.” Though these words may sound rebellious to modern ears, they carry a profound wisdom: a reminder that true learning is not confined to classrooms or measured by grades. It is a force far older and freer than any institution — a fire that burns in the human spirit itself.

Taleb, known for challenging the complacencies of modern systems, speaks here not to diminish education, but to liberate it. He reminds us that formal schooling — though useful — is not the only path to wisdom, success, or greatness. The world, he suggests, has confused certification with understanding, and grades with growth. His words are an appeal to the ancient truth that real learning is born of curiosity, experience, and the courage to think independently. The mind that loves learning will never stop growing; the mind that chases grades alone will one day stagnate, imprisoned by fear of failure.

The examples he gives — Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Mark Zuckerberg — are not chosen for fame alone. Each of these men left behind the traditional corridors of academia to pursue visions that no syllabus could contain. Jobs sought beauty in technology, merging art and engineering into one. Gates, a master of logic and ambition, saw a digital revolution long before it arrived. Zuckerberg, still in his youth, connected humanity across continents through the architecture of code. They were not products of rebellion for rebellion’s sake; they were expressions of the eternal truth that wisdom is greater than instruction. Their stories prove that the greatest teachers are not always professors, but life itself.

This wisdom is not new. The ancient philosophers knew it well. Socrates himself never wrote a book or claimed formal mastery; he wandered the streets of Athens, teaching by question rather than lecture. His student Plato, whose mind shaped civilizations, once said that true knowledge is “recollection” — the awakening of what already lives within the soul. And so Taleb stands in their tradition, calling us back to that sacred understanding: that education is not something one receives, but something one becomes.

Yet, Taleb’s words also carry a quiet warning. In placing too much emphasis on formal education, society risks breeding obedience rather than creativity, anxiety rather than curiosity. The child who learns only to please the system may become clever, but not wise — skillful, but not free. A world obsessed with grades will produce technicians, not thinkers; followers, not innovators. The spirit of discovery — that raw, untamed hunger for truth — cannot flourish where failure is punished more than ignorance. Thus, Taleb’s message to his children — and to all of us — is not to reject education, but to reclaim the joy of learning from the chains of conformity.

Consider, too, the example of Leonardo da Vinci, the quintessential self-learner. Though he received little formal education, his relentless curiosity led him to master anatomy, mathematics, painting, and invention. He dissected the flight of birds, studied the flow of rivers, and painted the human soul upon the canvas. His learning had no boundaries because his mind had no fear. Like Jobs, Gates, and Zuckerberg, Leonardo proved that the most powerful education is self-directed, born not of obligation, but of wonder.

The lesson of Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s wisdom, then, is timeless: Seek not grades, but growth; not approval, but understanding. The true student is not the one who sits quietly in rows, but the one who questions, experiments, fails, and rises again. Education is not a ladder to climb, but a horizon to explore. To enjoy learning is to keep the soul alive — alert, curious, and unafraid. For the joy of learning leads to mastery, and mastery to freedom.

So let these words echo in the hearts of parents, teachers, and youth alike: education is not a race, but a revelation. The mind must not be trained to remember, but to see. Grades fade, institutions crumble, but the spirit of learning endures. As Taleb teaches through both logic and life, the wise do not chase diplomas — they chase truth. And in that pursuit, they find not only knowledge, but the fullness of what it means to live.