First, I must disclaim that I am any sort of expert on this topic. I know of it only in its most rudimentary form. With that being said, I believe that the message behind it is quite significant. Here it goes:

The smartest people need not boast of how smart they are.

This comes from Plato’s Apology. Plato discusses his interaction with a politician who is (generally) thought to be quite intelligent. The politician is quick to make claims about his intellect and Plato finds this to be peculiar:

Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he is — for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I know.

Basically, the politicians of Plato’s day made grand claims about their own knowledge. Many people believed them, leading to their success in politics and society, in general. In turn, more people believed in them, perpetuating the person’s faux intellect. Philosophers, on the other hand, make no such claims. Rather, they find that their own wisdom is related more closely to their understanding of what they don’t know. Doesn’t this make sense? If a person was truly as intelligent as they claimed to be, why would they need to alert their peers of that fact? Surely if the person in question actually was as smart as he or she claimed, it would be self-evident. Conversely, people who may not be as smart as their peers may seek to elevate their status by attempting to convince their peers that they are, in fact, smart.

Think about the smartest person you know. If that person is anything like the most impressive people that I know, he or she possesses some sort of quality that alerts you of their intelligence. In my experience, this is similar to the notion set forth by Plato. These smart people aren’t afraid of admitting that they are unsure of something. They are confident in themselves, potentially unknowingly, and would rather admit their lack of knowledge in a particular area than feign aptitude.

An interesting example of this sort of phenomenon can be seen in the words of Y Combinator founder, Paul Graham:

Because you can’t tell a great hacker except by working with him, hackers themselves can’t tell how good they are.

According to Graham, a hacker cannot easily understand their own aptitude for hacking because it is something that is inherently difficult to know. If a certain hacker were to claim that they were a great one, that hacker would probably be mistaken because he or she is simply not privy to that information. When asked, “are you a good programmer,” Graham argues that a good programmer would say something like, “I’m not sure.” Now, this shouldn’t be seen as a heuristic for determining a hacker’s skill, but it could be useful in weeding out those with annoying, potentially nonsensical, egos.

Ultimately, the story goes something like this: don’t pretend to be something you’re not, because people who are smarter than you will see through it.

…and let us not forget the corollary: if you are the smartest person in the room, you probably don’t know it.