Wednesday, August 26, 2026

The Trouble With Being Right in a Wrong World

In the country of the blind, goes the proverb, the one-eyed man is king.

In his 1904 short story "The Country of the Blind" H.G. Wells writes of a sighted man named Núñez who finds himself in exactly this position. Instead of being crowned king, however, the concerned citizens find his claims about "seeing" to be delusional and propose removing the organs that are clearly the cause of his mental illness. The story ends with Núñez fleeing into the wilderness where he presumedly dies in the effort.

The message is clear: possessing an ability (or knowledge or genius) that nobody recognizes is more likely to cause others to see you as defective rather than superior. 

For instance, there are those, like Thom Hartmann, who assert that their ADHD is his superpower. The big idea behind his "Hunter/Farmer hypothesis" is that traits we label as distractibility, impulsivity, stimulation-seeking, hyper focus, rapid shifting of attention and risk-taking, would have been quite valuable to hunters, while the modern classroom and workplace only tend to reward the steadier "farmer" traits. Hartmann says the genesis of his theory was an attempt to give his ADHD-diagnosed child a less-disempowering story. "It's only a flaw," he concludes, "if you're in a society of farmers."

In a similar vein, several of my autistic adult friends and colleagues have at various times confessed that they often feel themselves superior to us "normies," especially when it comes to understanding things like complex systems or accurately remembering details.

None of this is to suggest that neurodivergence doesn't come with challenges, only that it cannot be viewed only as a deficit.

Thirty-five years after his short story was first published, Wells extended it with a new ending. In the revised version, Núñez escapes into the wilderness, but looks back to "see" that a catastrophic rockslide is about to destroy the country of the blind. He returns to warn them, but they don't believe him precisely because his warning depends on this delusional thing called "sight." Núñez escapes, but the rest are crushed under the rocks.

In the original version, the tragedy is Núñez's alone, while in the retelling the tragedy is everyone's.

There is, of course, an irony in using blindness as a metaphor for deficit in a story about the dangers of deficit thinking. Wells was writing more than a century ago, and his metaphor carries assumptions about disability that I don't share. What's interesting, however, is the deeper question his story raises: Who gets to decide which human capacities count as gifts and which count as defects?

Modern schooling is focused almost exclusively on defining and "fixing" the perceived deficits of children. We shame them. We tell them disempowering stories. We cast their superpower as a delusion, a flaw, and an illness. The one thing we rarely consider is that maybe it's us who must change.

This is one of the great promises of play-based (or self-directed) learning. When children are free to play, we aren't compelled to measure them against any single standard of what a child ought to be. There is a place in our country for the child who can't sit still, the child who becomes obsessed with a single idea, the child who takes risks, the child who notices what the rest of us cannot "see," the child who thinks and communicates and connects in ways we don't immediately understand.

Our job isn't to "cure" children of the things that make it difficult for them to thrive in the world we've made. Maybe our job is to join them in remaking the world in which there are no kings.

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Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in ways that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.


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