The Genius We Forgot

When we talk about genius, we imagine a certain kind of person. Often, he is solitary. He is bold. And—more often than not—he is a he.

But ask yourself this: Whose genius gets noticed? Whose ideas are celebrated? And just as critically—whose brilliance is quietly erased?

In her sobering and sharply argued new book The Genius Myth, Helen Lewis unearths an old story with disturbingly fresh consequences: the systematic sidelining of women from the pantheon of genius. Women haven’t just been forgotten; they’ve been deliberately pushed out—barred from institutions, written out of historical accounts, and too often cast in the supporting roles behind so-called “visionary” husbands.

This isn’t a footnote from the past. It’s a pattern that reverberates through today’s classrooms, boardrooms, and even space programs.

Take computer science. In the 1940s, the word “computer” didn’t refer to a machine; it referred to a woman. Women performed the most complex calculations for the U.S. military—by hand. Six of them programmed the world’s first fully functional digital computer, the ENIAC. They were trailblazers. Mathematicians. Pioneers.

And yet for decades, their names barely appeared in the footnotes.

When programming was considered clerical work—likened to planning a dinner party—it was “women’s work.” But when its importance became evident, men entered the field in droves and the narrative shifted. Suddenly, coding was elite. Male. High-status.

This is not a one-off.

Across professions, we see a troubling pattern: when women dominate a field, the status and pay often decline. Not because the work is less essential, but because we are still, even now, inclined to devalue the people doing it.

Nursing. Teaching. Care work. Even motherhood itself.

And this hurts not just women—but all of us.

Because here’s the hard truth: we need every ounce of ingenuity we can get. Our world faces complex challenges—from climate change to global health to artificial intelligence. To solve them, we need the full spectrum of human talent. And that means recognizing, honoring, and amplifying the contributions of women.

A recent Time magazine investigation uncovered a chilling trend: the quiet removal of records related to women veterans, astronauts, and soldiers. These are not accidents. This is erasure with intent. And the result? A narrative that says women didn’t serve, didn’t invent, didn’t lead.

Erase the record, and suddenly it looks like women never changed the world. Which is, of course, nonsense.

When girls grow up never seeing women as inventors, generals, or tech founders, they start to believe the lie: “Greatness isn’t for girls like me.”

That lie is costly. Not just to individual dreams—but to our collective future.

According to the McKinsey Global Institute, the global economy could be $28 trillion richer if women participated equally. That’s not just a moral imperative—it’s an economic one.

And it starts with telling a different story.

A more complete one.

A truer one.

One that includes women like Katherine Johnson, the NASA mathematician whose calculations launched men into space. Josephine Cochrane, who invented the dishwasher when no one else would. Maya Angelou, whose words shook the world. And the quiet heroes: the mother who built a business, the teacher who sparked a fire, the coder who refused to stay silent.

In camps and classrooms around the country, girls are being taught these names—told that their voices matter, their ideas count, and their dreams are not just allowed—they are needed.

Because genius wears many faces. And far too many of them have gone unseen.

To every girl out there who’s ever wondered if she’s “enough”—enough to build, to lead, to shape the future:

You are. You always have been.

It’s time we built a world that sees that too.