Chapter 39
Why Poets Lie Too Much

This chapter reveals a dangerous pattern: when people gain a platform or reputation for wisdom, they often start performing expertise rather than pursuing truth. Zarathustra's brutal self-examination shows how easy it is to slip from genuine insight into intellectual theater. The mechanism works like this: Once you're seen as wise or talented, pressure builds to always have profound things to say. Rather than admit ignorance or uncertainty, you start filling gaps with beautiful-sounding nonsense. You begin believing your own performance, mistaking eloquence for understanding. The applause becomes addictive. Soon you're more invested in maintaining your image than discovering what's actually true. This pattern is everywhere today. The nurse who's worked ICU for twenty years but starts giving medical advice outside her expertise because people see her as 'the medical one.' The supervisor who learned to speak confidently in meetings and now offers opinions on everything, even areas where he has no real knowledge. The parent who became known for giving good advice and now feels pressure to have answers for every family crisis, even when she's genuinely confused. Social media amplifies this—people build followings around being 'authentic' then feel trapped performing that authenticity. When you recognize this pattern, practice intellectual humility. Say 'I don't know' when you don't know. Distinguish between your areas of real competence and areas where you're just performing. Ask yourself: Am I speaking from experience or from the need to seem wise? Check your motivations—are you trying to help or trying to impress? The most trustworthy experts are those who clearly define the limits of their expertise. When you can name the pattern, predict where it leads, and navigate it successfully—that's amplified intelligence. Real wisdom often sounds less impressive than performed wisdom, but it's infinitely more valuable.