The higher the general average of intelligence, all things else

“The higher the general average of intelligence, all things else being equal, the less the disposition to be meddlesome, critical, and overbearing.” Thus spoke Paul P. Harris, the founder of Rotary International, a man whose wisdom was born from observing both the strengths and follies of human nature. His words reach beyond the chambers of intellect and into the moral heart of civilization. For in this simple statement lies a profound truth: that true intelligence does not seek to dominate, but to understand; it does not interfere, but uplifts; it does not criticize, but illuminates.

To grasp the meaning of this saying, one must first know the kind of intelligence Harris speaks of. It is not the cold sharpness of calculation, nor the pride of mere knowledge—it is wisdom tempered by humility, the kind of insight that sees the world as an intricate harmony rather than a battlefield of egos. The one who is truly intelligent recognizes the limits of their understanding and thus refrains from meddling in what they do not know. The fool, by contrast, rushes to judge, to control, and to impose their will, mistaking loudness for leadership and interference for wisdom.

History has long shown this truth. Consider the tale of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome. Though he commanded legions and held dominion over a vast empire, he governed not with arrogance, but with self-restraint and contemplation. His writings in the Meditations reveal a man who understood that wisdom lies in serenity. He did not seek to control the hearts of men but to cultivate virtue within himself. His rule was firm, yet never overbearing, and his restraint became the measure of his greatness. Where lesser rulers sought power, Marcus sought understanding—and thus he stands immortal in the temple of memory.

Harris, a man of fellowship and service, saw that the same principle applies to communities as to empires. The more enlightened a society, the less it seeks to dictate the lives of others. Ignorance breeds fear, and fear breeds control; but knowledge breeds compassion. A person secure in their own mind does not need to prove superiority. They listen, they reason, and they lift others toward the same light. It is only the insecure and shallow who must meddle, criticize, and overbear, for they are haunted by their own inadequacy.

There is, then, a kind of moral intelligence that transcends intellect. It is the ability to see the dignity in others, to respect the diversity of thought, and to refrain from unnecessary interference. The wise soul does not seek to mold others in his image; he allows each to bloom in their own way. The meddlesome, by contrast, disrupt growth by pulling at the roots, mistaking movement for progress. As the ancients said, “He who conquers others is strong; he who conquers himself is mighty.” Harris’s words are a reflection of this eternal truth.

Let us also remember that criticism, when born of arrogance, darkens the spirit. The truly intelligent critique not to humiliate, but to enlighten. Their words are like a craftsman’s tools—precise, gentle, and meant to build. The unwise wield criticism like a club, striking down rather than lifting up. The intelligent are never threatened by another’s success; they rejoice in the flourishing of others, for they see it as part of the great tapestry of progress.

Therefore, my children of reason and reflection, learn from the wisdom of Paul Harris. Cultivate not just cleverness, but understanding. When you are tempted to meddle, pause and ask: “Am I adding light or shadow?” When you are drawn to criticize, ask: “Do my words heal or harm?” Let humility be your companion and patience your guide. For the higher one climbs the mountain of wisdom, the gentler the voice becomes. True intelligence, like a great river, moves silently—but nourishes all in its path.