> According to reports, he was working at NASA at the age of eight, and in 1978, his name was recorded in the Guinness Book Of World Records for the highest IQ at 210.
> While his career as an academic genius was soaring to unprecedented heights, Kim Ung Yong decided to pull the plug on it abruptly. He returned to South Korea in 1978 and decided to pursue higher education at Chungbuk National University where he obtained his Ph.D. in civil engineering.
> The reason behind this decision was his growing dissatisfaction with the life of a genius. According to Mr. Kim, he missed out on many things in life while excelling academically. He spent his days couped up, deprived of the finer joys of life. His lifestyle also drew in some nasty rumors from the media.
> So, he left that life behind in pursuit of his own identity and a normal life with his family and friends. Though the media labeled him as a “failed genius”, a living proof of how things can go horribly wrong with gifted kids, Mr. Kim has no regrets about his decision. In a society that puts academic intelligence on a pedestal, he is adamant that a high IQ really doesn’t determine anything about a person’s character.
It seems like indeed he learned some valuable lessons. But it's also clear that he felt the extreme pressure was ruining his life at that time, and it took him off the (more prestigious— you can decide if you think it's "more valuable") path of science in favor of engineering.
If you asked him, he'd probably say that the most vital decision he ever made was rejecting the "deep and woeful strife" that came from his ultra-disciplined, intellectual, and otherwise profoundly empty childhood.
It also seems like he'd probably reject the notion of measuring him by "where he ended up in life", even if that judgment is favorable. If the more relevant question is "could he have wound up contented and emotionally healthy with some other kind of childhood", it seems hard to argue that the painful childhood he rejected is the only way that could have happened.
When I say "where he ended up in life", I don't mean his job, where he lives, etc. These are irrelevant material conditions. I mean who he is as a person. How he carries himself, his perspectives, the set of mental frameworks he's capable of utilizing, etc. Essentially "could he have wounded up contented and emotionally healthy" is what I assert is effectively impossible. How could he have? Without having the experience to internalize, process, interpret, and evade what is left to reject? How is he to know what he does not value? And my point even extends beyond that, it is not a utilitarian one.
> he'd probably say that the most vital decision he ever made was rejecting the "deep and woeful strife" that came from his ultra-disciplined, intellectual, and otherwise profoundly empty childhood.
This too isn't quite understanding what I mean, along a few axes. I think I'll cast the same point in different light and context:
No life which is spent from cradle to grave without ever knowing deep and personal loss can have claim to have been a proper or healthy life, or to be truly human at that. It is an existence left stunted and incomplete. The take away from this is not that we are to maximize our propriety or healthiness by killing those closest to us. What I broadcast is excruciatingly a non-dualistic, anti-utilitarian signal.
> it seems hard to argue that the painful childhood he rejected is the only way that could have happened.
I don't mean to imply that the environmental stress from being raised as a child prodigy is particularly unique in substance. Only that the stress (in a sense which extends beyond the shallow emotional sense of the word) with a valence aligned with the experiencer at that moment in time is an essential part to living.
> According to reports, he was working at NASA at the age of eight, and in 1978, his name was recorded in the Guinness Book Of World Records for the highest IQ at 210.
> While his career as an academic genius was soaring to unprecedented heights, Kim Ung Yong decided to pull the plug on it abruptly. He returned to South Korea in 1978 and decided to pursue higher education at Chungbuk National University where he obtained his Ph.D. in civil engineering.
> The reason behind this decision was his growing dissatisfaction with the life of a genius. According to Mr. Kim, he missed out on many things in life while excelling academically. He spent his days couped up, deprived of the finer joys of life. His lifestyle also drew in some nasty rumors from the media.
> So, he left that life behind in pursuit of his own identity and a normal life with his family and friends. Though the media labeled him as a “failed genius”, a living proof of how things can go horribly wrong with gifted kids, Mr. Kim has no regrets about his decision. In a society that puts academic intelligence on a pedestal, he is adamant that a high IQ really doesn’t determine anything about a person’s character.
It seems like indeed he learned some valuable lessons. But it's also clear that he felt the extreme pressure was ruining his life at that time, and it took him off the (more prestigious— you can decide if you think it's "more valuable") path of science in favor of engineering.
If you asked him, he'd probably say that the most vital decision he ever made was rejecting the "deep and woeful strife" that came from his ultra-disciplined, intellectual, and otherwise profoundly empty childhood.
It also seems like he'd probably reject the notion of measuring him by "where he ended up in life", even if that judgment is favorable. If the more relevant question is "could he have wound up contented and emotionally healthy with some other kind of childhood", it seems hard to argue that the painful childhood he rejected is the only way that could have happened.
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1: https://www.koreaboo.com/stories/south-korean-professor-once...