With the last set of exams of my law school career approaching, I recall overhearing a conversation by two students stating that they wish they were geniuses. I completely agree. It would be nice to have a mind that reads a fact pattern once and spots every issue instantly while simultaneously drafting a well written IRAC (preferably IRAHNC) argument. Who wouldn’t want to join the Order of Coif without breaking a sweat? If this thought has creeped into your mind while you are outlining at 2 AM, don’t worry. I’ve done the research into becoming a genius and put it into practice for both of us. The answer lies in a three-step process that requires isolation, introspection, and creation. 

Let’s first take a look at the word, genius. The Proto-Indo-European root gene- (also gen) carries the meaning “give birth, beget.” Fun fact, this root also produces generate and genital. Both of these words express creation. So now the question is, what do you create? Unfortunately, I’m not too sure. Creation is subjective. Moreover, there is a trick to this act of creation. You’re personally not creating anything. A genius idea is required to produce a genius creation. However, genius ideas don’t come out of you. They come to you. Friedrich Nietzsche agrees with this notion in Beyond Good and Evil, (1886) as he writes “that a thought comes when ‘it’ wants to and not when  “‘I’” wish.” 

That makes sense, as when an individual receives a revelation at a moment of desperation, it’s commonly referred to as an epiphany. The Disney Movie, Soul, has a wonderful depiction of this experience. See this clip. The word epiphany originates from the late Greek term, epiphaneia (ἐπιφάνεια), meaning manifestation, appearance, or striking appearance. It derives from the verb epiphainein (“to manifest,” “display,” or “shine upon”). Epiphainein combines epi(“on”) and phainein (“to show” or “shine”). Thus, epiphany can be translated to “a shining upon.” So, this presents a new question. Who (or what) is shining a light upon us? 

Genius originates from a dual Latin origin: genius, being the Latin translation of the Greek daemon (daimon/daimonion) or tutelary spirit, and ingenium, meaning predisposition and inclination. Within the late classical world, genius was originally thought of as a guardian spirit that accompanied an individual throughout life guiding them along the right path. This guardian spirit would breathe into you and inspire you. 

The word, inspire,  stems from the Latin word, inspirare, which means “to breathe or blow into.” It combines in-(“in”) and spirare (“to breathe”), originally implying to breathe life into someone. Our earliest written English uses of inspire and its counterpart inspiration, give it the figurative meaning “to influence, move, or guide (as to speech or action) through divine or supernatural agency or power.”

Historian Ammianus Marcellinus (born c. 330, died c. 391-400), in his description of the elevation of Emperor Julian to the throne upon the sudden death of his cousin Constantius, writes that “A daemon is assigned to every man At birth, to be the leader of his life.” Within this context, Ammianus hints that Julian’s personal inspiration and eventual ascension to becoming Emperor is the fulfillment of the lifelong intentions of Julian’s guiding spirit. 

I’m sure the daemon part sounds frightening or unholy even as it is akin to the Middle English word demon. However, the word demon blends several traditions. It draws on the Greek idea of spiritual beings that were not inherently evil, postexilic Hebrew beliefs about harmful spirits, Persian conflict between forces of light (Ahura Mazda) and darkness (Andra Mainyu), and Synoptic Gospel accounts of Jesus casting out spirits that caused human suffering (e.g., Matthew 8:28, 12:22; Mark 5:1, 3:22; Luke 8:26, 11:14). Moreover, during the sixteenth century, the concept of daimon underwent a process of cultural contamination. People increasingly began to group the term within the broader category of demons and aligned it with the Christian devil or with spirits from popular magical traditions.

Now that we no longer fear daemons, we can examine historical accounts of individuals whom society continues to praise as geniuses to this day. Each account attributes their inspiration to a guiding spirit or an inner voice.

Socrates (c. 470-399 BC), one of the founding fathers of Western philosophy, spoke often of an internal oracle whose advice he blindly followed. While standing trial under conviction of impiety and corruption of the youth in the city of Athens, Socrates stated, “I have a certain divine guide…I have had it from childhood. It is a kind of voice which, whenever I hear it, always turns me back from something which I was going to do, but never urges me to act.” He also states, “The prophetic guide has been constantly with me all through my life till now, opposing me even in trivial matters if I were not going to act rightly.” 

Likewise, Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821), historically considered to be a military genius, is believed to have had a personal guide in the form of a little red man. Accounts claim that the “Little Red Man” followed Napoleon Bonaparte throughout his campaigns and mapped the course of his rise and fall. Napoleon also believed in a fiery red star of destiny that guided him from the sky. In an account attributed to General Jean Rapp following the siege of Danzig in 1806, General Rapp entered Napoleon’s office and found the Emperor so absorbed he didn’t notice Rapp’s presence. When Rapp made a noise, Napoleon turned around, seized Rapp by the arm and said, pointing to the sky, “Do you see up there? … That is my star. There it is, shining before you. It has never left me. I see it in all great moments. It commands me to go forward, and that is always a sign of good luck for me.” 

Furthermore, throughout all of church history there has been witness to this same experience of hearing the voice of a guiding spirit. Saint Augustine of Hippo (354-430 AD), renowned Christian theologian and philosopher, experienced this while weeping in a garden as he experienced mental anguish over his life of sin. In this moment he heard a child’s voice repeating over and over the words, “Pick up and read. Pick up and read.” Believing it to be a heavenly prompt, he picked up a nearby book of St. Paul’s epistles and read the first verses he found. They were Romans 13:13-14. This was a message he read before, however, after receiving an illuminating command from the Lord, his heart was flooded with light. A year after this event he was Baptized by Saint Ambrose, the Bishop of Milan on the eve of Easter 387 AD. 

Whether you understand these experiences as the voice of reason, the subconscious, or God, you cannot deny the genius that emerges when individuals listen and act on what commands them. In specific, St. Augustine went on to write one of his greatest seminal works, The City of God, which actually granted me with the answer that we are in search for. St. Augustine states, “What is Genius? “He is the god who is set over, and has the power of begetting, all things.” He further states, “Genius is the rational soul of everyone, and therefore exists separately in each individual, but that the corresponding soul of the world is God.” 

May sound underwhelming to some, exciting to others, even cliché to a few, but the fact of the matter is that we are all inherently capable of becoming a genius. Becoming a genius entails a three-step process. Isolation, introspection, and creation. (Sorry if there is no ring to it. Nothing more clever has come to me while I write this now.) I advocate for isolation being in the form of taking a walk, preferably in nature. This also means leaving your phone, or for safety reasons, bringing it but remaining off it. No phone calls or music. How will you be able to hear your inner voice and perform introspection? 

Consider talking to yourself. I promise you’re not crazy. Recent studies show that people who use distanced self-talk—addressing themselves in the second or third person—experience improved dieting, emotional regulation, and decision-making. My conscience whispers “Staniel, I love you. You’re the greatest” every so often to remind me that I’m capable of completing any task before me well. As finals near, that phrase actually has been ringing louder and much more often. 

Lastly, I leave the creation part to you. Who knows what will come to you? You may return home with a new understanding of trustee avoidance powers in a bankruptcy case, a new concept for an Impact Blog article, or an idea capable of changing the world. Good luck.

During a run with my dog, Leonardo Da Brutis, this past spring break back home in South Florida, I came across the words “God is the best” written in chalk upon a wall of a half tennis court tucked behind a chain linked fence. As a Christian, I understand these words well, but they resonated with me differently that day. Prior to that moment I was contemplating my law school career and my future as a lawyer.

Thankfully, these words pierced my heart, bringing light that cleared away the uncertain thoughts that clouded my mind. I realized that God truly is the best; therefore, all past moments have happened for the best. Would you say I had an epiphany?

I’m soon to graduate and am very grateful for my experience at BC Law as I understand it to now have been divinely guided. I hope that I changed the minds of others. If not, that’s fine. I’ve at least changed my own. My imagination has been running wild lately. As I study late into the night, I take a break from my computer screen and look out my window into the night sky. The moon is there. Closer in orbit though, I see my own shining star guiding me and illuminating the path I walk upon.

---

Staniel Brutis is a third-year student at BC Law. Contact him at brutis@bc.edu.