Who Gets to Be Smart: Privilege, Power and Knowledge

by Bri Lee

Bri Lee, best-selling and award-winning author of Eggshell Skull, asks Who gets to be smart? in this forensic and hard-hitting exploration of knowledge, power and privilege.

In 2018 Bri Lee's brilliant young friend Damian was named a Rhodes Scholar, an apex of academic achievement. When she goes to visit him and takes a tour of Oxford and Rhodes House, she begins questioning her belief in a system she has previously revered, as she learns the truth behind what Virginia Woolf described almost a century earlier as the 'stream of gold and silver' that flows through elite institutions and dictates decisions about who deserves to be educated there. The question that forms in her mind drives the following two years of conversations and investigations: who gets to be smart?

Interrogating the adage, 'knowledge is power', and calling institutional prejudice to account, Bri once again dives into her own privilege and presumptions to bring us the stark and confronting results. Far from offering any 'equality of opportunity', Australia's education system exacerbates social stratification. The questions Bri asks of politics and society have their answers laid bare in the response to the Ramsay Centre for Western Civilisation, COVID-19, and the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020.

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Education, Australia, Sociology, Feminism, Audiobook

232 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 1, 2021

Reviews

[Jules · Rating 2 out of 5]

Urgh, when is Bri Lee going to realise and accept that she is thin, white, straight, pretty, rich and yes - incredibly smart? You can be all these things and still be empathetic and connected to those less privileged than you, but Lee lacks the self awareness required.

I was so enraged reading this book, by Lee’s yearning to be accepted by racist and sexist colonial institutions which should be abolished, her total ignorance when it comes to what being denied an education really looks like, and most of all by her incredibly limited view of what being smart really is - Lee would probably be much happier if she valued emotional intelligence half as much as her degrees.

There was an opportunity here for a call to action for education reform, or literally anything for that matter, but instead the book is a mess of criticizing internal politics of institutions most people will never see the inside of and our author pondering which discipline she will choose for her PHD - writing or law? Please.

I wish Lee had gotten her hands dirty and actually engaged meaningfully with people outside her social circle as part of her research. I wish she’d come to my school and seen students with severe language delays from spending so much time in juvenile detention learning to read for the first time at 17 years of age. I wish she could see how proud students with an IQ of 70 are when they finish a VCAL outcome. I wish she could see autistic students being vulnerable, learning interpersonal skills and forming meaningful relationships - and then have the audacity to say these skills are not about being “smart”. I wish she had delved into the problematic Program for Students with Disability funding rather than flippantly saying “children are entitled to an education, not money”, as though you can have one without the other.


I agree with basically everything in Beejay Silcox’s review, which is far more articulate and diplomatic than anything I could muster: https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...

[Megan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Firstly with the praise: Lee is a genuinely inspiring writer. Her prose is close to immaculate, and she's possibly only second to Clementine Ford in having an innate and borderline perfect control over tone. Her writing was definitely at its strongest when she was telling her own story - which makes sense, given how good she is at portraying the immediacy of all of her emotions; from the very best (the paragraph at the very conclusion of the book where she talks about her love for her partner was extremely beautiful) to the very worst (her jealousy, anger, irritation and feelings of self doubt that I think anyone who has ever entertained any sort of relationship with the Academy can relate to). I liked the way that she dotted her asides against the evidence very clearly - I appreciated that there was no pretence in the purpose of the information we were getting: this is why the academy perpetuates disadvantage, this is where that disadvantage appears in schools, and this is what I think about it. Something else she did that was very clever was outlining when she, as well as her audience, was likely to feel defensive. Full disclosure, I was also defensive at those moments, and I feel like her naming it in such a way forced me to assess why that defensiveness had arose, and really, for whose benefit the defensiveness was there for.

But overall, when it comes to the actual content of the book, I am a little disappointed. I loved Eggshell Skull, and I also have loved what else of her's that I've read through the Saturday Paper. But I think the book ended up falling a little short of its goal: was I convinced, in the end, that there had been an answer to the establishing preposition: who gets to be smart? Not really. I've read critiques of it which have called it unfocused, and I have to agree. I think that the beginning of the book was definitely when it was at its tightest - the essay specifically about the ways in which the "meritocracy" has been hijacked in Australia by the wealthy elite at the schooling level was very compelling and interesting.

But then in the second half, I didn't feel like anything really new or interesting was being said. Specifically the very last two chapters - Western Civilisation and 2020 - felt like repetitions of earlier points. I found myself also growing more frustrated as Lee's generalisations started to appear more and more prominently and without justification. I also felt that there were things that Lee sort of accepted without interrogation - and I accept that, of course, in the creation of an essay, presumptions have to be established and not every element of every argument can be addressed - but things like her interview with the woman who said that free university was worse for poor people than the HECS-HELP Fee structure because for some reason, the first had university spending overheads that the second didn't? (Like, correct me if I'm wrong, but as someone who has just gone through the system, there are still a lot of overheads that are not covered by the loan).

The second was her establishing that Behrouz Boochani might have been able to claim refugee status in New Zealand from Australia - and while he might have passed the first step in determining a State's non-refoulement obligations (that is, whether he had a well founded fear of persecution), I doubt that other elements (such as the fact that he was suffering because of a law of general application, which is an exception to non-refoulement) would have meant his claim would have been successful. This was even more frustrating for me because I had really liked how she had used Boochani's 'No Friend but the Mountains' up until that point. As a law student, and as someone who is perpetually sickened by this nation's treatment of refugees, Boochani's work has been similarly stimulating to me and has helped me focus the trajectory of my career. But now the impact of it has been undercut! Ugh. Anyway.

There was another instance where she spoke at length about how the method and ability of a communicator does not indicate intelligence. Good. Absolutely. Completely agree. But then she went on later to discuss the idea that every academic idea ought to be communicable in a single conversation, or else there are issues of accessibility and elitism which eschews the oligarchy. I don't think that these ideas can be completely separated, and on my reading, tend to contradict each other. I think that there are certainly justifications around them, and given that I tend to agree with the former, but am sceptical about the latter, I'd like to see this argument laid out and addressed more specifically in-text.

I know that some of these things are nitpicky, and I do want to stress that Lee's ideas were very strong, and there were times that her logic was airtight. There were times when my mind was changed, and there were times when I realised that she was challenging a presumption of mine I had not even considered to be presumptive. The book has started conversations with friends, and I will always remember how unflinchingly she detailed the way the double standards in funding and "academic" achievement of the public/private school divide. 3-3.5 stars.

[Georgia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Echoing what many other reviewers of a similar rating have said - I found the ideas presented really interesting and informative, but on the whole the book lacked a bit of focus. It’s clear that the research and writing of both this book and Lee’s previous book ‘Beauty’ have been cathartic projects in which she has been able to work through insecurities that dominate her thinking, the problem is that I find her presence within the writing sometimes subtracts from the salience of points she makes. The structure and writing style is very memoir-esque, and I think this could have been stronger as a tighter collection of essays.

In saying all this, it was an easy read to get through, and definitely illuminated ideas and issues that have already sparked conversations within my own life.

[Blair · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think the question is instead: who gets to have a book contract? The cover is studded with endorsements and Lee obviously has plenty of supporters in the industry. The book is an absolute mess, with no clear line of argument and Lee's 'research' mainly consisting of looking stuff up on the internet and reprinting large swathes of it here. It's not that I disagree with the points she makes, it's just that it's all so half-arsed. She doesn't interview anyone except her friend who goes to Oxford and her accounts of him and her boyfriend and how smart they are are cringeworthy. As someone who has actually worked in education for nearly 20 years it's perplexing to me why something this shoddy would be published and get any kind of attention.

[Michael Donaghue-Evans · Rating 1 out of 5]

I really hated this book. I agree with pretty much all of Lee's takes on educational inequality and things like the Ramsay institute, but this books adds effectively nothing to the conversation (unless if people have not considered the fact that educational privilege exists).

The central issue is Lee's need to insert herself into every situation despite not really facing educational disadvantage. Some of the discussions around feeling out of place at her private school were interesting (and maybe could have made for an interesting book), but the reality is that even if she is not quite as privileged as some other people that feature in the book, she is not someone who has really been that hard done by the system. Therefore, the book largely focuses on her insecurities rather than structural barriers she has faced. Again, that could make for a perfectly good book, but it shouldn't be pretending to be a profound examination of educational inequality, as she ends up drawing a bunch of disturbing false equivalences between her situation and some of Australia's most disadvantaged students.
The ongoing theme of whether to do her PhD in writing or in law is the key example of why it is bizarre that she has inserted herself into these discussions. There is never a question that she will be able to get into a PhD program of her choice, and she has been able to devote herself to many years of undergraduate study.

There is some examination of actual educational inequality in Australia, but no evidence of research beyond newspaper articles (and certainly no attempts to actually centre the voices of groups that have been disenfranchised by the education system). So if you are looking for a book that gives you well known facts about educational inequality, and then someone's hot takes on them (usually just "inequality is bad") then this might be the book for you.

Lee writes well, and I've heard good things about Eggshell Skull as it apparently draws more appropriately on her life. However, this book has a real identity crisis, posing as an analysis of educational inequality while actually largely serving as an extended complaint about the insecurities of someone who is, by any metric, educationally privileged.

[Amanda Denness · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am seeing a lot of criticism of Bri Lee herself about a lack of acknowledgement of her privilege despite the author acknowledging it many times. Further, I feel hyper-focusing on something personal detracts from the information provided in Who Gets to Be Smart. The book flows seamlessly through the various aspects, and issues, of contemporary education, its recent history and its evolution. Providing such information in an accessible and understandable way is one of the many praises I have for the work. Additionally, I personally enjoyed Lee's journey and sharing of her vulnerabilities. A must-read for people, especially women, who potentially struggle with imposter syndrome as they endeavour to navigate these spaces.

[Teyah Miller · Rating 4 out of 5]

*3.5

This is a really eye-opening book in terms of shedding light on the completely disparate and unjust education institutions in Australia. I really enjoyed the adoption of the theory of kyriarchy, and it gives a really good rundown of issues that I didn’t know a lot about until now. Ironically, however, for a book called who gets to be smart, the book still reeked of privilege and I really did finish it feeling as if it was written to be understood and related to only by the sort of people that hold a lot of the privileges the book claims are unjust: the book requires a lot of preexisting knowledge and understanding to be able to follow along with it. I did like a lot of it but that’s most likely because I am also an ex private catholic school girl with a huge inferiority complex lol.
The whole book just feels very surface level- there isn’t really much of an empowering call to action; and a lot of her research (particularly anecdotal and primary research) doesn’t seem to have extended outside of her own social bubble.

[Nick Lucarelli · Rating 2 out of 5]

Trigger warning: privileged straight white male talks about straight white male privilege.

2.5 stars.

This one was insufferable for long stretches. Bri initially attempts to unravel the history of how and why the educational institutions of the western world favour the privileged, but is too often drawn into political / social justice point scoring, anecdotes about her insecurities and reflections on her white/western guilt for it to hold traction throughout the book. She is particularly incensed by the usual suspects - Abbott, Howard, Trump etc - but also seems to think the Centre of Independent Studies runs the world, that the ABC is a right wing cesspool run by conservative cronies puffing on cigars (newsflash: people on boards tend to come from a business background!) and that the sun shines out of Katherine Murphy's ass.

Parr of the book is dedicated to cementing the idea that the rich are systemically oppressing the poor and, for a large part of history, were oppressing women and non-whites from attending university. Some of this does still exist today. Yet this argument is then derailed by spending large chunks of time on other fruitless endeavours, eg her support for tearing down statues of successful figures from eras where social standards were different/less modern and insisting on judging them by today's standards instead of yesteryear's, an cause that just doesn't jibe with me. I have always been a "separate the art from the artist" sort of guy so we can agree to disagree here, but this sort of black and white thinking and rabbit warren approach unfortunately taints the book as a whole.

Her assessment of high schooling is similar. While I disagree that the school system favours boys (she does in fact point out that boys are falling behind in school and non-STEM uni attendance, completion and marks, but can't seem to equate this with her world view that all men are silently profiting from the patriarchy that pervades the entire world), I do concur with her assessment of the financial inequalities pervading the Australian high school and university system, which are probably better understood by reading the Gonski 2.0 report. This is where the true problem lies and she does unlock this well.

She then dabbles a bit in some cherrypicked behavioural / intellectual studies from the 3 books she has read on the subject looking at how we overvalue and glamorise "school smarts", the degrees they help us acquire and automatically equating degrees with intellect, and how we do so at the expense of valuing creativity and different learning styles. This angle does have some merit, but is largely hypocritical given her own chase and drive for external validation and subscription to western academic orthodoxy through her constant references to her first world struggle in choosing what to do her PhD in, and her unending comparisons between her own and her colleagues' accomplishments, from Rhodes scholarships to being able to choose ripe avocados. This includes spending almost a chapter putting bilingualism on a pedestal she can't seem to reach (as her BOYFRIEND whom she is constantly referring to happens to be bilingual, and she seems to relish being in a relationship where she is (self-appointedly, mind you) less intelligent than him), and a strange dig at Homer and The Simpsons for somehow glamorising males' blasé incompetence.

All up, this book tries to hard to be factual, anecdotal, provoking and reflective all at once without clearly leaning in one direction. There is a lot of noise. Definitely prefer her earlier stuff.

[✨ jami ✨ · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 star*

the first half of this book is much more personal and I liked that section. Some reviewers have criticised her yearning for academic recognition and smarts here but that was kind of the point and also, I hate to say but I related! She talks about visiting her friend, a Rhode Scholar in Oxford, and how she always wanted to do this pilgrimage and how envious she was of those smart enough to make it. I have felt the same! I liked that section, it felt reflective, critical, interesting, nice story telling.

But the book became more and more unfocussed as it went on. Which isn't to say it wasn't interesting - a lot of it was. But I think it needed something more strong to tie all the different ideas she has together. We go down a lot of rabbit holes but I started to get a little lost. I also think for anyone who lives in Australia and has paid attention to politics, a lot of this will be rehash of things you already know. I also thought it could of benefitted from a wider perspective at times.

Overall, I don't think this was as strong as Eggshell Skull but I did still enjoy it.

[Jacki (Julia Flyte) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book about how how the systems of society and education perpetuate privilege for a small number of predominantly white, wealthy men. The first chapter is about Oxford and it's terrific. It had me thinking a lot about how I have grown up revering Oxford as the pinnacle of brilliance and knowledge and yet it's such a closed and inaccessible club, giving preference to those who are wealthy or the right religion or colour. Yes there are scholarships, but they are still only there for a small minority who may not ever feel truly accepted.

There's lots to ponder in this book but it's a huge topic and I couldn't help feeling that she had bitten off more than she could chew. It's also an uneasy balance between personal anecdotes and formal research. There are large sections which are very specific to Australia and their very messed up education system. Private schools with rifle ranges or libraries designed to look like Scottish castles (friends of mine have children at each of those schools) that are still heavily propped up by the Government while public schools flounder. It's outrageous but I've read a lot about this before and I was more interested in her discussion of how even the ways that we measure intelligence are designed to reinforce the status quo. I was also interested to read that we judge people's and trustworthiness more by their accent than by their colour.

This is very readable but I'm not sure the myriad of interesting facts and stories come together to make a cohesive whole.

[Romany · Rating 5 out of 5]

Clearly connected some really troubling issues. I just love the contextualization of the research. I like Lee’s friendly asides and the willingness to call bullshit. Read it.

[Alicia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Initially rated this as a 2 star read but some of Bri Lee’s sentiments have stuck with me and a lot of the book was great food for thought. My main qualms with it was its complete inaccessibility. Given the book is about accessible intellect, privilege and the pretentiousness of education institutes.. this book was sure written in a way that came across inaccessible, privileged and pretentious. I really struggled hearing about Bri Lee’s jealousy of her friend (Damien) and boyfriend (Vincent) and of her insecurities around not being a Rhodes scholar (especially because, on balance, Bri is very accomplished and privileged in conventional measures - best selling author and alumna of an elite university). All round I found her obsession with intelligence and, more specifically, quantifying said intelligence as tiresome and unpleasant.

Agreeing with many other critiques of Who Gets To Be Smart, the book lacked cohesion and at times felt it was written as stream of consciousness, with Bri providing her 2 cents into every topic ranging from BLM, to #MeToo, to COVID-19, to Australia’s position on immigration.. talk about whiplash!

Some good things; her chapter on language and about how communication skills are not synonymous with intelligence was great (and relatable, as a fellow Mandarin second language learner). Her chapter on Science was also well-researched and gave an interesting overview of Eugenics. I think this would be a good book club pick - lots to discuss and mull over (whether you enjoy Lee’s tone or not!).

[Joyce · Rating 1 out of 5]

incredibly self indulgent and tone deaf? why does a book about educational disparity give SO much voice to private-school educated folk, oxford uni attendees and rhode scholars???

groups of people who are far worse impacted by educational disparity (disabled folk, poor people, Indigenous australians, migrants) are predominantly mentioned only as statistical tokens?? where are their voices? why did bri lee write this book without conducting more thorough research, grounded in community? actually speak to people most affected by the subject of this book?

instead much of the book simply quotes academic research and her own personal grossly self-indulgent musings about how Oxford uni makes her feel insecure about her intelligence, how ppl at her private high school got takeout most nights of the week, when she only got to have it when she got good grades. her research is frustratingly limited to her own upper middle class social bubble.

while these experiences are valid, they should not dominate a book titled “who gets to be smart”, a book that purports to tackle educational disparity in australia at large? (the irony of bri being someone who “gets to be” smart, gets to land a book deal writing about educational disparity when it seems like she discovered the concept yesterday…and seemingly unaware of it)

[Alexandra · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a well-researched comment on the situation, funding and biases of western education. It poses interesting views and important information that show an unhealthy seam in our Australian system, bringing a light to elements that must-needs change for equitable future development. Although not such an attention-grabbing title, it should perhaps have been 'Who Gets to be Educated', since 'smartness' is not predicated on the amount of time we spend in schools, and many among us are smart though not educated.

[Emily · Rating 1 out of 5]

How to write a book according to Bri Lee:

Step 1 - Get invited to Oxford.

Step 2 - Listen to some podcasts.

Step 3 - Criticise politicians.

Step 4 - Forget about actually making any conclusions or offering any solutions.

Don't get me wrong, I admire Bri and everything she's achieved to date. But this book just seemed unfinished to me. It had the potential to be really interesting, but it ultimately didn't appear to offer any new perspectives on what is probably an uncontroversial subject.

[Shelleyrae at Book'd Out · Rating 3 out of 5]

In Who Gets To Be Smart, Bri Lee explores the relationship between education, privilege, power and knowledge.

“Knowledge is power, and when powerful people are allowed to shape knowledge and restrict access to knowledge, they are able to consolidate and strengthen their hold on that power.”

Lee’s focus is primarily on the gatekeepers of educational access and success in Australia, and their role in determining who gets to be ‘smart’, rather than the contribution of raw intelligence to the equation. The majority of Lee’s observations about the ways in which knowledge is controlled by those with privilege and power seem obvious to me so I don’t feel the book offered me much personally in the way of unique insight, though I’m sure there are some who have never considered the correlation.

It seemed to me that Lee occasionally followed paths that didn’t really connect to the central premise. There were relevant topics I felt Lee didn’t acknowledge such as Australia’s secondary and tertiary scholarship options, and I think the HECS-HELP and VET schemes merited more discussion.

Lee’s own anecdotes and asides keeps Who Gets To Be Smart from being dry. Her research seems sound, and the information is presented in an accessible manner.

I found Who Gets To Be Smart to be an interesting read, I hope it sparks discussion about inequality in educational access and success that will lead to change.

[Ally Blake · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunning read. Felt as if I was sitting across the table from the author in a cosy, tucked-away, corner table at a fave, urban coffee shop, mainlining espressos and rhubarb apple pie, chin resting on upturned palm, not even minding the crumb digging into my elbow locked in place on the rickety old table, as I was too engrossed in Bri's turn to talk.

Now feeling a little extra ragey and a whole lot more informed, as decades worth of niggling discomfort have found shape and foundation in this thorough, focussed, beautifully conversational book about deeply, deliberately entrenched educational and intellectual gatekeeping.

[Ant · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mία από τις αγαπημένες μου κινηματογραφικές σκηνές είναι η σκηνή στο bar από το Good Will Hunting, μία ταινία που βάσισε τον κεντρικό χαρακτήρα στην παραγνωρισμένη ιδιοφυία Γουίλιαμς Τζέιμς Σίντις, που επίσης καταγόταν από τη Βοστώνη. 

Στη συγκεκριμένη σκηνή βλέπουμε τον καλύτερο φίλο του Γουίλ, να προσπαθεί να φλερτάρει μια φοιτήτρια του Χάρβαρντ, συνδιαλλαγή που διακόπτεται από έναν άλλο φοιτητή,  έναν επηρμένο καραγκιόζη, που προσπαθεί να παραστήσει τον έξυπνο αναφέροντας από��εις διανοητών ως δικές του και χρησιμοποιώντας το κύρος του πανεπιστημιακού ιδρύματος στο οποίο διετελεί φοιτητής, ιδιοτητα που κερδισε, εμφανως, ως απόρροια των προνομιων του (λευκός άνδρας πρώτα από ολα) και την οποία μεταφράζει σε μέσο επιβολής και κυριαρχίας σε μια κοινωνική περίσταση.

Ο Γουίλ επεμβαίνει προς διάσωση του φίλου του και αποστομώνει τον wanna be πτυχιούχο έξυπνο αναφέροντας επακριβώς το απόσπασμα που καπηλεύτηκε ο φοιτητής καθώς και έναν καταιγισμό κριτικής για το πανεπιστημιακό σύστημα αλλά και τους ανδρες που βρισκουν καταφυγή σε αυτό: άτομα χωρίς πρωτότυπη σκέψη που προσφευγουν στην αυθεντία και στη συγκέντρωση σχετικής γνωσης προκειμένου να ικανοποιήσουν τον ναρκισσισμό τους ή να ανελιχθουν κοινωνικα.

Τοσο η ταινια, οσο και το συγκεκριμένο βιβλιο αναφερεται στο εξης φαινομενο: τα περισσότερα άτομα που ανελίσσονται πλεον στον ακαδημαϊκό χώρο: 1. δεν έχουν ιδιαίτερες ικανότητες, παρόλα αυτά καπηλεύονται ευχαρίστως τον τίτλο του"έξυπνου", του "δόκτορος", του "ξεχωριστού", ειναι δηλαδή μετριότητες που βρίσκουν την ιεραρχικότητα του πανεπιστημίου προσιτή στην προσωπικότητά τους και στις βλέψεις τους, με έναν τρόπο που συνήθως δεν συμβαίνει ιστορικά με μεγάλες προσωπικότητες που διέπρεψαν σε πεδία της επιστήμης ή της τέχνης, 2. Μασκαρεύουν τον ναρκισσισμό τους ως γνωση και τον εκφραζουν -κατι που εχει συνέπειες στην επιστημονική ακεραιότητα- για ιδιοτελείς σκοπους στην ιεραρχικη αρενα του Πανεπιστημιου, που φυσικά ευνοεί παραδοσιακά, παρά την πρόσφατα δημιουργηθείσα επιφάνεια ενός αφηγήματος συμπεριληπτικότητας, τις έμφυλες διαφορές, τις προνομιακές διακρίσεις [ableism κ.ά] και την ταξική ανισότητα. 

Το προβλημα ομως, υποστηριζει η συγγραφέας του βιβλιου, δεν ειναι μονο η ταξικη ιεραρχία , αλλα η ιδια η γνωση που εκφραζεται απο υποτιθεμενες αυθεντιες εντος κομφορμιστικών ακαδημαϊκών ιδρυματων που συνηθως δεχονται παχυλες χορηγίες απο συντηρητικους πολιτικα ιδιώτες. Αλλωστε, πολλές από τις επιστημονικοφανείς θεσεις που είναι ευρέως διαδεδομένες ως κοινές και αποδεκτες αντιλήψεις, δεν είναι τίποτε άλλο παρά απόρροια καλά εδραιωμενων μύθων, ελλειπους έρευνας και κατάλοιπο ρατσιστικων αντιληψεων (για παράδειγμα η έννοια της φυλής, που είναι καθιερωμένη σε πολλά επιστημονικά πεδία) 

Το πρόβλημα βέβαια με την πιστοποίηση είναι πως δεν αποτελει ευκολως προσβασιμο στην κοινη σκεψη πως καθετι που ονομαζεται επιστημονικό υποκειται επισης σε κριση, επαληθευση και μπορει να αποβει ψευδές.  Καθετί που ονομαζεται ερευνα εχει ποιοτικες διαβαθμίσεις και δεν αποτελει καθε ειδους ερευνα καταλυτικό λογο αληθειας.

 Κατ'επεκταση οποιοσδήποτε επιστήμονας, που, παρότι έχει πάρει κάποιους τίτλους, σταματά να ενημερώνεται για το πεδίο του, δεν παρακολουθεί σεμινάρια, δεν διαβάζει βιβλία κ.ο.κ, δεν μπορει λογω του πτυχιου να κατεχει πλεον τα προνομια της αυθεντιας,  αφου ο πανεπιστημιακος τιτλος δεν αποτελει εφόρου ζωης βασιλικο αξιωμα και η γνωση οφειλει να εμπλουτιζεται. 

Δεν μπορείς επίσης να πάρεις στα σοβαρά τον οποιοδήποτε με μεταπτυχιακό ή διδακτορικό που έχει γράψει μια εργασία άνευ σημασίας για την επιστημονική κοινότητα, μια πανομοιότυπη φυλλάδα με χιλιάδες παραπομπές και καμία πρωτότυπη σκέψη ή συνεισφορά που σκοπό έχει μονάχα στην απόκτηση του προσωπικού τίτλου. Από μόνος του λοιπόν ένας τίτλος δεν λέει πολλά πρακτικά, παρεκτος ως φαντεζί σημειο εντυπωσιασμου σε μια επιφανειακη κουλτούρα που λατρεύει την εξιδανίκευση υποτιθέμενων αυθεντιών χωρίς ουσιαστική βάση. 

Στο συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο προσεγγίζεται το θέμα της γνώσης πρώτα από όλα ταξικά και ύστερα πολιτικά. Για παραδειγμα, η εντυπωσιακη εκμαθηση γλωσσων, συχνα ταχεια, απο μεταναστες σε δυσμενη περιβαλλοντα και δυσχερεις συνθηκες, σπανια βρισκει το προνομιο μιας αντίστοιχης πιστοποίησης ή θαυμασμού που θα λαβει ο προνομοιουχος σπουδαστης ενος αναγνωρισμενου ιδρυματος. Ειδικα στην Ελλαδα ισως ειναι δυσκολο να το ακούμε και να το δεχτουμε λογω της εξιδανικευσης του πτυχιου (του οποιουδηποτε πτυχιου,οσο αχρηστο κι αν ειναι με αποτελεσμα να πνιγομαστε στους αμορφωτους πτυχιουχους) αλλα ναι, οσοι εχουν ανεμποδιστη προσβαση σε γνωση και πανεπιστημιακες υποδομες ειναι προνομοιουχοι εις βαρος αλλων. 

Στο βιβλιο ξεδιπλωνεται μια αρκετά εμπεριστατωμένη έρευνα για τις χορηγίες ορισμένων επιφανών ιδιωτικών σχολείων αλλά και μεγάλων πανεπιστημιακών ιδρυμάτων που σχετίζουν τις πολιτικές και τις επιλογές φοίτησής τους με την συντηρητική πολιτική των δωρητών τους. Πέρα όμως από όλα αυτά, εξετάζεται μέρος της ιδιας της ακαδημαϊκής γνωσης ως ενα σύνολο από καλά παγιωμένες αντιλήψεις με σχετική μόνο εξακρίβωση. Δεν είναι τυχαίο που η ακροδεξιά ρητορική, ειδικά στις ΕΠΑ, έχει αποκτήσει μια ψευδοεπιστημονικη επίφαση, στην οποια τα Πανεπιστημιακα Ιδρύματα,  δεν έχουν ενδιαφερθεί να αντιπαρατεθούν, λόγω πολιτικής σκοπιμότητας και χορηγιών. 

Όπως διατυπώθηκε στο αντιρατσιστικό podcast Race matters: The university as a project, as an institution can't be separated from ideology. Western universities have roots in colonialism, different forms of oppression and domination (...) university exists in the way that it is now, especially in neoliberalism and capitalism,because it separates itself from the community.
Δηλαδή το πανεπιστήμιο ως παραδοσιακος χώρος, δρα μέσα από ένα καλα δομημενο προνόμιο διαχωρισμού το οποίο καλλιεργεί με τις ίδιες μεθοδους ελιτισμού για να συνεχίσει να υφίσταται.

[Andy Fleskens · Rating 3 out of 5]

Great topic to shed light on. This book definately planted many ideas to ponder and reflect on. Eg. The way the western education system propagates and encourages a certain type of intelligence, priorities and way of thinking - the effects of which are vast.
The flow of ideas and the writing style could have been improved, was sometimes hard for me to follow. It was sometimes hard for me to grab where the overall direction of the book was going.
Despite this, I am happy I read it

[Eleanor Katelaris · Rating 3 out of 5]

After reading Bri's first book and being drawn into her first person narration, the jump to this felt harsh. It read like a university thesis, which is ironic as the majority of this book is dedicated to critiquing those very institutions.

Bri set out to answer the important question, 'who gets to be smart' but instead of centering the underprivileged and undereducated, she centred herself in nearly every aspect of this book. The main piece of wool that's woven throughout the book is her quest to find out why she'll never feel smart enough.

Despite going to a private school, one of the best unis in Australia, writing multiple books etc - she wants to know why she isn't a Rhodes Scholar. It reeked of faux-concern for others less fortunate than her, when really it was all about her intellectual inferiority complex.

It features 7 chapters on different topics surrounding privilege. Each chapter read like completely different books and were filled with so many irrelevant musings it left me feeling like there was no investigative arc at all... and she never answered the titular question.

I will say: she is a brilliant writer and every sentence was immaculate, even though I didn't like the book as a whole.

[James Pearson · Rating 1 out of 5]

A self-involved social media rant entirely devoid of self-awareness. Bri clearly does not see the irony of her own book.

[Stuart McCarthy · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

[Julia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is interesting if a bit unfocused. I know some people do not like their non-fiction with a side of personal history but that is actually the only contact with non-fiction that I want. I love Bri Lee, I love her way of writing and the way that her roll with the punches tone does cut through the content. Her critique of the education system, while desperately wanting to still be part of it is the point and did enlighten by perspective on this a bit. The bulged middle on education policies and power conspiracy sort of lost me in the middle. As someone who is 4.5 years into a single institution and more than half way through a masters, I am self aware that I am very embedded in this world...don't bite the hand that feeds you etc. But I am very well aware that I was similarly drawn back by the prospect of head pats and expensive pieces of paper and calling myself a Master. There is a un-interrogated desire in me to be the smartest person in the room and the system that overvalues being smart is the one that built that in me. NB I did read over the goodreads review several times to decipher whether it came across as smart, before realising that was part of the problem and tried to work out whether it sounded too smart on the verge of nauseating.....this note just further complicates the assessment

Rating has been raised based on how much thinking I did writing this review.

Cue my favourite lines:

"A large part of the country regards with deep suspicion the inner-city softies who think they know best just because they've read a lot of books" (hello, me)

"Only a fool would ignore the joy in learning forever, and only a fool wouldn't recognise that un-learning can be as important a process"

"Kids who finish school with excellent grades typically come from households with higher average incomes. These are the people who least need scholarships"

"I had spent a huge amount of money and multiple years of my life accumulating accreditations based on an invisible but omnipresent ledge of legitimacy that someone I respected and admired has just said he did not really believe in. I used my qualifications as both sword and shield in the public sphere."

[Henry Devitt · Rating 3 out of 5]

I might preface this with stating I’m not a massive fan of meditations style books. The weaving of fact, thesis, and personal experience feels really convoluted to me, and here it’s heightened.
When I first read the book I loved it. I think the topic the book seeks to explore is extremely important, especially in modern Australia and I’m glad It’s being done. My issue with this book, however, is that I think this meditations style is not suited to exploring such a topic, especially from Bri Lee’s perspective, ultimately harms what needs to be discussed.

Lee comes from a very privileged background, which she often fails to at least recognise within the book. Here, she details the obstacles encountered by many Australians, and people around the world, amongst describing her own experiences. I found this extremely jarring. Instead of interviewing people who have faced such issues, Lee seems to stick to those within her immediate circle and references them throughout the book; people who have benefitted immensely from the system. This I feel waters down what is trying to be said, and takes away from focussing on the issues raised, namely the divide between public/private schools, funding of higher education etc. This ultimately ends up giving the book an unfocused view.

That being said, Lee is a fantastic writer, and the book was engrossing and easy to read to say the least. It’s also brought to the fray issues and ideas which need to be discussed and sparked many conversations I’ve had with friends in my own life, so for that I’m glad I’ve read it

[Melanie · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is probably an unpopular view, but I find Bri Lee's writing to be elitist and dare I say a bit whiny? I thought perhaps I treated Eggshell Skull unfairly, particularly when it was subject to critical acclaim and loved by many of my friends and acquaintances in the law. This follow up, however, has not changed my opinion.

There are some worthy ideas in her, but they come from such a position of privilege that I found it hard to feel too bad for her. Perhaps I'm getting too cynical in my old age, but I think if you're looking for feminist discourse there are better offerings out there.

[Pauline]

DNF 11%

[Sabrina]

When Bri Lee is at her strongest, she is beyond convincing. Her arguments are smart, well-considered and clear in their subject and discussion. However, in Who Gets to Be Smart often these arguments felt repetitive, and towards the end, meandering and slightly aimless.

The issue is, I think, is not just the absence of solutions or resolutions for the central question of the book, but in that while reading this book - despite the author's insistence for accessibility - I did feel that for those who wanted a more objective discussion or well-rounded argument should look elsewhere.

It's not that I disagree with the arguments, but rather that the author leaves no room in her discussion for any disagreement or further conversations that could leverage understanding between the classes that are central to this book.

(Despite the authorial criticisms, there was quite a bit of 'othering' towards 'the conservatives' and their narrowmindedness - which is fine and all, but I truly think to progress towards change and open up this dialogue even further - isn't all that 'othering' only doing us all harm, in the long run? If we really want effective change shouldn't collective understanding and mutual intelligibility be our goal in building bridges, rather than say, burning them further?)

However, I was largely impressed by the author and the scope of her research, especially in the private/public school chapter. That realm is something that every Australian is aware of, even if it's just as an unconscious bias, and I feel that section in particular was the game-changer for me in this reading experience.

It felt like the sharpest and most crystallised of Lee's dialogues around knowledge and power, and the relevance of it really stung somewhere true in my own relationship with the Australian identity.

I think that, above all, is what I would recommend reading in this book, if nothing else (and I think my understanding shifted especially in the epiphany of not just haha-our-PM-is-a-weird-hillsong-guy to religion is a far more grossly underrated and realised power in our government and most Australians are probably still unaware of that scope.)

Overall probably 3.5 stars. I still think it's worth reading, but (almost) ironically, keep an open mind and some salt nearby.

[Madelon North · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’ll do a proper review of this soon. But it could’ve been a long form essay with more direction and a solid argument. I don’t think the question “who gets to be smart?” was at all answered. And at times Lee toes the line of straight up ableism. I loved Eggshell Skull, but that type of writing by situating yourself in the story so much absolutely does not work here.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Non-Fiction November

Bri Lee is in top form here and covers "Who Get to Be Smart" from a number of different angles. I was fascinated with her visit to Oxford and how she looked at the bias, discrimination and exclusion of The Rhodes Scholarships. Loved that she was reading Woolf in Oxford.
I probably really need to think about her approach to the rest of this piece but Bri's politics align with mine and I found this a fascinating read.
She's an author I'll always read and I look forward to all she produces.
Highly recommended.

[Kelly Woolerton · Rating 3 out of 5]

I know there's been a lot of mixed reviews on this one, but I quite liked and it and it definitely made me pause and reflect on my education and where I could of ended up, both better and worse in different circumstances.. I think my favourite part was actually the epilogue though, where Bri realises her self worth and seems to generally have a healthier view on life and learning. Only gave it 3 start because I didn't like it as much as some of her other books.