There is an inherent primality when it comes to the brain.

Faces are seen, but brains need to be proven.

So there is a possibility of insecurity

A panging feeling of having a bad image of one’s intelligence in another’s head.

There is less objectivity compared to face.

This is because faces do not change too rapidly.

But the situation or even the depletion or stress on working memory can give off different image of intelligence to others at different contexts.

Face is for everyone. Intelligence is for the ones we interact with.

There are more personal stakes in intelligence.

The question of intelligence doesn’t appear in every social context.

It shows up in relationships that imply proximity, repeated interaction, and the potential for compounding effects—boss, colleague, client, friend, partner.

We may not interact with many people in life.

But the ones we do interact with, we likely will again.

So every impression of intelligence feels high-stakes.

We fear leaving behind a bad image because we are social animals, and because these people can shape our life outcomes.

Repeated interaction means compounding influence.

A negative image of intelligence can mean exclusion from circles.

It can mean being underestimated, mistreated, passed over, manipulated, or ignored.

Our survival and quality of life hang on these quiet evaluations.

This is why people fear sounding stupid in front of certain people more than others.

The brain, unlike the body, is invisible until it performs. And performance is context-bound.

So we become anxious about proving our intelligence in every interaction, because we might have to do it again in front of the same people.

And these people influence the quality of our lives.

This is where the literary example of Flowers for Algernon fits.

The story shows how intelligence reshapes identity, relationships, and opportunity and how its loss can unravel all three.

When Charlie becomes intelligent, people treat him with awe and respect.

When he regresses, he loses that treatment. The shift is painful because it exposes how contingent social value really is.

That mirrors real life.

Sustaining a certain level of perceived intelligence (especially in front of your boss, client, colleague, or alma mater) feels like a requirement for social and financial survival.