Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and
Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and in its higher forms it is a kind of poetry.
Havelock Ellis, physician, philosopher, and interpreter of the human spirit, once proclaimed with piercing vision: “Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and in its higher forms it is a kind of poetry.” In these words he unveils a hierarchy of the mind, distinguishing between thought that is merely useful and thought that ascends to beauty and truth. For Ellis, thinking at its most ordinary is a currency—functional, exchangeable, pragmatic—but at its highest, it transforms into poetry, that exalted expression which fuses reason with imagination, clarity with wonder.
The origin of this insight lies in Ellis’s lifelong quest to understand human creativity and desire. He studied science, art, and psychology, and in doing so, he recognized that the mind operates on many levels. There is the common thought of daily life, which solves problems, buys and sells, organizes tasks. This, he likens to paper money—convenient, symbolic, useful, but without inherent value. And then there is higher thought, where the mind contemplates existence, beauty, and the eternal. This, he says, becomes poetry—not necessarily verse, but thought so luminous that it sings, thought that transcends utility and becomes revelation.
History gives us powerful illustrations. Consider Isaac Newton, who in his lower grades of thought calculated, measured, and experimented—practical steps, like coins of reason. But when his mind ascended to higher vision, he saw universal gravitation, a law so profound and elegant that it became more than science—it became poetry written in mathematics. Or consider Albert Einstein, whose equations arose from pragmatic reasoning, yet whose reflections—“Imagination is more important than knowledge”—revealed the poet within the physicist. Their thinking was not merely functional; it was radiant with beauty.
Ellis’s metaphor also warns us against becoming trapped in mere utilitarian thought. Like paper money, such thought circulates endlessly, necessary for survival but empty of deeper meaning. It tells us how to live, but not why. A life bound only to this kind of thought risks becoming shallow, transactional, mechanical. To live fully, one must strive for the higher grades of thought, where ideas become creative, where reflection gives birth to vision, where reason rises to awe. Poetry, in this sense, is not escape, but the flowering of the mind into its noblest form.
There is also a heroic dimension here. For the poet is not only one who writes verses, but one who dares to think beyond utility, who lets the mind dwell in wonder and dare to dream. Ellis’s words remind us that every person, no matter their craft, can become a poet in thought. The architect who dreams of beauty beyond function, the leader who imagines justice beyond power, the teacher who sees potential beyond grades—all of these are poets of the mind. The highest thinking transforms the ordinary into something eternal.
The lesson we inherit is this: do not remain content with thoughts that are mere paper—useful but lifeless. Seek thoughts that breathe, that shine, that awaken the heart. When you think, do not ask only, “How will this serve me?” but also, “What beauty, what truth, what eternal spark lies within this idea?” In this way, your thought becomes more than calculation; it becomes creation.
Practically, this means nurturing wonder alongside reason. Read not only for information, but for inspiration. Let philosophy, poetry, and art guide your mind upward. In daily life, pause to see the beauty hidden in the ordinary—to let a simple observation blossom into reflection. In conversation, dare not only to exchange words but to lift them into vision. Train your mind to reach beyond utility into meaning, so that your thinking, too, may become a kind of poetry.
Thus Havelock Ellis’s wisdom endures: “Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and in its higher forms it is a kind of poetry.” Let us, then, not spend our days shuffling the paper currency of thought alone, but strive to mint ideas of gold, to fashion insights that shine like verse. For in the higher reaches of thinking lies the true wealth of humanity: the union of wisdom and beauty, the poetry of the mind.
TTVu Pham Thanh Thao
Ellis's comparison of thinking to paper money and poetry is thought-provoking. Could it be that our everyday thinking lacks the depth we need to truly understand ourselves and the world around us? Maybe we’ve lost touch with the more creative, artistic side of thinking. What if the most meaningful moments in life come from transcending basic thought and allowing ourselves to think in a way that is truly poetic?
LLoan
This quote seems to draw a sharp contrast between basic and more profound thought. If lower-level thinking is like paper money, it makes me wonder if we tend to focus too much on transactional, shallow thinking in our daily lives. What if we trained ourselves to elevate our thinking to the level of poetry? Is it possible to consciously cultivate deeper, more creative thought, and would that change the way we experience the world?
NPNhat Phan
I find this idea intriguing because it seems to suggest that the quality of our thinking varies. When we are caught in the mundane, our thoughts might be superficial or transactional, like paper money. But when we reach higher levels of understanding or creativity, our thinking becomes like poetry—elevated and meaningful. Does this mean that profound thinking is rare and only accessible to certain people, or can we all access this poetic thinking?
GBVu Gia BInh
This quote makes me think about the different levels of thinking we all engage in. Is it true that much of our daily thinking is just like paper money—exchangeable but lacking real depth or meaning? It seems that deeper, more reflective thinking might lead us to a form of poetry—an artful, meaningful way of interpreting the world. Can thinking ever truly become art, or is that just an idealized notion?