We all make mistakes—some more preventable and impactful than others. Yet, even with hindsight revealing how easily avoidable they were, we continue to make them. This article examines two primary sources of common misjudgments: “entitled stupid” and “really stupid” decisions. By exploring how consciousness, decision-making, genetics, and evolutionary biology influence these blunders, the article illustrates how these forms of “stupid” emerge in our daily lives. With relatable examples—from golfers making life difficult for trail bikers to insights from Forrest Gump—we will explore how learning to avoid and recover from these types of mistakes enables personal growth and smarter decision-making.
About the author: Jeff Hulett leads Personal Finance Reimagined, a decision-making and financial education platform. He teaches personal finance at James Madison University and provides personal finance seminars. Check out his book -- Making Choices, Making Money: Your Guide to Making Confident Financial Decisions.
Jeff is a career banker, data scientist, behavioral economist, and choice architect. Jeff has held banking and consulting leadership roles at Wells Fargo, Citibank, KPMG, and IBM.
Table of Contents
Introduction: The Forrest Gump Dilemma – Understanding Smart and Stupid
Defining “Entitled Stupid” and “Really Stupid”
Nature vs. Nurture: The Interplay of Genome and Environment
The W&OD Trail Story: A Lesson in Awareness and Adaptation
Entitled Stupid
Environmental Influence and Belief Inertia
The Cost Lens and Acquired Privilege
Conscious and Subconscious Bias in Entitlement
Subconscious Influence, Entitlement, and the Forrest Gump Effect
Criminal Responsibility: First-Degree Murder, Second-Degree, and Manslaughter
Auto Insurance and No-Fault Policies: Does Conscious Intent Matter?
Forrest Gump and “Stupid Is as Stupid Does”
Recognizing Privilege and Cultural Entitlement
The Shift to Recovery: Moving Beyond Entitled Stupid
Really Stupid
How Genetics Shape Our Limitations
The Economics of Specialization: David Ricardo’s Comparative Advantage
Forrest Gump and “Stupid Is as Stupid Does NOT”
Strengths, Weaknesses, and the Blind Spots of “Really Stupid”
Conclusion: A Practical Philosophy for Life
The Manhattan Story: “Better to Be Wronged and Alive Than Right and Dead”
Staying Vigilant Against Stupidity in Ourselves and Others
Humility and Growth Through Self-Awareness
Recognizing Stupid, Choosing Smart
Resources and Acknowledgements
Personal Finance Reimagined
Global Neuronal Workspace Theory and Key Influences
Comparative Advantage, Bayesian Inference, and Behavioral Economics
The W&OD Trail Story: Recently, I encountered someone’s “stupid” while biking on the W&OD trail in Northern Virginia. This popular trail attracts various travelers—bikers, runners, walkers, and strollers—all navigating a shared space with unwritten norms aimed at keeping everyone safe. The mix of travel speeds creates unique challenges.
However, this instance of “stupid” was not about the typical interactions among trail travelers but about the golfers playing on a course intersecting the W&OD trail. After putting, golfers cross the trail to reach the next tee. A large stop sign at the crossing serves as a clear signal, yet experienced trail travelers know that golfers are often less mindful and may cross without looking, creating a hazard for trail users—especially bikers.
It happened to me: as I biked along, a golf cart suddenly blocked the trail, forcing me to brake and swerve to the edge while the golfers chatted about their last putt. It was a nerve-wracking moment as I could have lost control of the bike. I held back a yell, thinking, “Is this really stupid or entitled stupid?” Instead, I composed myself after narrowly avoiding a collision and continued my ride.
This experience raises the question: “Are we really stupid or entitled stupid?” Exploring this distinction involves a comparison of “nature vs. nurture” and “genome vs. environment” influenced by evolutionary biology. Simply put, our development stems partly from internal factors, such as our DNA, and partly from external experiences in our environment. Understanding the origin of our mistakes, however, is rarely straightforward.
I admit — I am both “really stupid” and a recovering “entitled stupid.” Like many, I have spent much of my adult life recognizing the subtleties of these two types of errors, both of which require careful interpretation.
How the Environment Shapes Our “Entitled Stupid”
“Entitled stupid” is easier to define due to its narrower scope. It describes beliefs held by individuals who feel entitled to certain perspectives, leading to perspectives which may diminish the welfare of others affected by these beliefs.
Consider, for example, a golfer who feels they deserve the right of way to the next hole, even when a large stop sign suggests otherwise. This sense of entitlement can be understood through the “cost lens.” Golfers make significant investments—paying for rounds, clubs, attire, and memberships. Additional personal costs, such as practice time, organization efforts, and other trappings, add to this entitlement.
The commitment to identifying as a golfer creates a form of ‘belief inertia,’ reinforcing their engagement and sense of priority. Belief inertia is a natural resistance to changing views tied to identity and entitlement. Driven by neurobiology and expressed through psychology, it reinforces the status quo and preserves established priorities. These payment and non-payment costs together foster a sense of “acquired privilege.” Research shows people naturally overvalue losses tied to costs, often viewing losses as more impactful than gains, regardless of income level. Simply put, losses resonate deeply with us. Our desire not to lose is a source of belief inertia and the architect of our entitled stupid.
This sense of entitlement is rarely a conscious decision. It is unlikely a golfer would consciously believe they are better than non-golfers. More often, “entitled stupid” manifests as a subconscious bias, affecting attention rather than overt actions. The golfer does not intentionally ignore biker safety; rather, their focus on their acquired privilege deprioritizes external factors—much like the way a golfer’s attention on their game overshadows concern for others’ safety.
If an accident occurred, the golfer might say, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The oversight was less about intent and more about how their acquired privilege subconsciously prioritized certain actions. The golfer indeed chose to act entitled in blocking the trail—just without conscious awareness of the decision.
The line between motivation and intent can be blurry. A lack of conscious awareness does not imply the absence of subconscious influence. In cases where decisions are not fully conscious, subconscious motivations guide actions, like crossing a busy trail without noticing others. This complexity underscores why certain judgments, such as:
Deciding the degree of criminal responsibility in court, or
Assessing fault in auto insurance claims,
are more complex than they might initially seem.
In criminal cases, determining responsibility—such as first-degree murder, second-degree murder, or manslaughter—relates to the interplay of conscious and subconscious influence. First-degree murder implies conscious intent and planning, while lesser charges recognize impulsive or reckless actions. However, those lesser charges involve the subconscious architecting of the capacity to kill. Regardless of intent, subconscious drives often shape decisions, affecting actions without full conscious control.
Many states have adopted “no-fault” regulations for auto insurance claims. In these states, if injured in an accident, individuals file a claim with their own insurance, regardless of who is at fault. Such policies acknowledge the difficulty and potential error in assigning fault.
Since many decisions are subconsciously influenced, it raises the question: Does conscious intent truly matter? Especially when the outcome is the same - a death or a wrecked car.
The character Forrest Gump illustrates “entitled stupid” with the line, “Stupid is as stupid does.” This phrase captures the essence of entitled stupid by highlighting that actions, rather than intentions, define a person’s behavior. With entitled stupid, behavior shaped by privilege often disregards others, making entitlement visible through action alone.
As I mentioned earlier, I am a recovering “entitled stupid.” Like many, my entitlement reflects my environment. I am a college-educated, European American man. I am proud of my achievements and their impact, yet I acknowledge a part of my success is attributed to privilege. Though I would like to think I have not used privilege for personal gain, I know it is likely. When competing in any field, those who play by the accepted rules generally have better chances of success, making it difficult not to follow suit.
Privilege results from cultural entitlement, especially within the American cultural landscape, where certain groups benefit from privilege and are driven to win. Incentives drive people toward certain goals—just as water seeks its own level, striving for success becomes the natural path. “Entitled stupid” is thus a byproduct of our environment’s structure and incentives, though I only recognized this pattern later in life.
Now, as a recovering “entitled stupid,” I have the wealth and time to support my growth. I still want to succeed, but the game I play has changed, and earlier incentives hold less value.
Our Nature Enables “Really Stupid”
Moving from entitled stupid, we now examine “really stupid.” Let us first distinguish the two: while entitled stupid often results from how we are nurtured, really stupid stems from genetics. Entitlement is typically a product of environmental factors like upbringing, but really stupid reflects inherent limitations shaped by our genes. Most of us have at least one area where we are really stupid—a result of our “lower-ordered” smarts.
To clarify, let us define “smart.” In my article The Case for Range: Why ‘Polymathic’ People Are So Valuable, I describe smarts as having two dimensions.
The first dimension includes a variety of characteristics defining “smart,” such as:
Memory capacity or recall speed,
Processing speed or reasoning ability on specific topics,
Ability to find connections between diverse topics, including spatial understanding,
Skill in understanding and integrating emotions,
Capacity to sustain focus and attention, and
Ability to form deep, enduring relationships.
We each have strengths in some of these traits and weaknesses in others. This creates an internal “smart list” for each of us, ranking these characteristics from high to low and guiding our behavior and priorities.
The second dimension is the external value others place on these traits. It is one thing to possess a smart characteristic and apply it to a product or service; it is another to create value others recognize. For example, someone highly skilled in engineering smartphones 25 years ago may not have been widely regarded as “smart” since the market did not yet value smartphones.
The economist David Ricardo’s principle of comparative advantage demonstrates why we naturally lean into our strengths and, often, leave our weaknesses untouched. Ricardo contended individuals, organizations, and countries gain the most from focusing on areas where they have a comparative advantage. This economic principle explains why we focus on our highest abilities—since they are more likely to yield greater success and recognition. However, this focus on specialization also leads to inevitable blind spots, or areas of “really stupid,” where we lack proficiency.
For instance, my reasoning and spatial awareness are relatively high on my list. I focus on these areas, enjoy them, and receive positive feedback from others, validating their external value. This also aligns with my introverted nature; as an introvert, I am inclined toward reflection rather than extroverted social engagement. On the other hand, interpreting and integrating emotion is low on my list, where my really stupid lies. My wife can attest to this—I often miss emotional cues, as my introverted tendencies do not naturally attune me to group dynamics or social bonding. Low oxytocin receptors may contribute to this, reducing my inclination for tribalism.
Interestingly, my lower oxytocin levels also mean I am less prone to racism or other discriminatory “-isms.” This lack of bias was not a conscious choice but rather a byproduct of genetics, paradoxically making my predisposition not to discriminate part of my really stupid.
Of course, each person’s really stupid varies. The more we focus on our strengths, the more likely our weaknesses remain hidden. Market economies reward specialization—our strengths—thanks to David Ricardo’s principle of comparative advantage. But specialization often leaves behind a lingering 'really stupid' residual.
In this context, Forrest Gump might say, “Stupid is as stupid does not,” highlighting really stupid relates to what we overlook or avoid.
Really stupid is part of our nature. While personality traits like introversion or extroversion can adapt, it takes effort to adjust genetic predispositions, and these changes may not last. In structured environments, people can adapt; under stress, however, they often revert to inherent traits shaped by genetics.
For me, focusing on growing my strengths sometimes leaves my really stupid a neglected blind spot. Fortunately, I have learned ways to compensate, like creating self-imposed structures to mitigate my limitations. I am lucky to have people around me who point out when I am about to do something really stupid.
Being on the Lookout for “Stupid” in Ourselves and Others
Returning to the golfer who cut me off on the W&OD trail: was he acting out of entitled stupid or really stupid? Perhaps he was focused on his strengths—being a good communicator—while lacking the spatial awareness needed to navigate safely. Or maybe he simply felt entitled, overlooking others on the trail. Likely, he was somewhere in between, shaped by both entitled and really stupid tendencies.
While I will never know his motives, I have learned to stay vigilant against “stupid” actions, whether from myself or others. Choosing to avoid stupidity—regardless of its type—makes life not only safer but also more fulfilling. Staying aware of our strengths and shortcomings is essential in guiding us toward smarter, more thoughtful choices.
I often reflect on a lesson I shared with my younger children during family trips to Manhattan. Coming from a quieter suburban life, they were unprepared for the fast pace of city streets, where cars didn’t always yield to pedestrians. My children asked why we had to be so careful when it was the drivers who were breaking the rules. I told them, ‘It is always better to be wronged and alive than right and dead.’ This principle has become a mantra for me, reminding me that sometimes we need to adapt and choose safety over pride, even when we’re technically in the right.
Embracing this mindset keeps us humble, aware, and ever ready to grow. By recognizing our own “stupid” tendencies and learning to sidestep them, we pave the way for a smarter, more intentional life.
Resources:
Please see Personal Finance Reimagined - a decision-making and financial education platform. Our platform helps people manage their own and others' wisdom and avoid the stupid to make the best long-term wealth decisions.
Acknowledgements:
Thank you to George A. Mashour, Pieter Roelfsema, Jean-Pierre Changeux, and Stanislas Dehaene for their work on the Global Neuronal Workspace Theory. GNW is central to the consciousness concepts found in this article.
Thank you to Stanislas Dehaene and his book: Consciousness and the Brain: Deciphering How the Brain Codes Our Thoughts. Dr. Dehaene does a wonderful job explaining GNW to those outside the neuroscience academic world.
Thank you to Thomas Bayes and for his work on belief updating called Bayesian Inference. Proper belief updating and our human nature for belief inertia are central to this article.
Thanks to David Ricardo for developing comparative advantage in the 1817 book: The Principles Of Political Economy and Taxation
Thanks to the Forrest Gump movie. The movie provides a wonderful explanatory metaphor.
Thanks to the many contributors to my article Changing Our Mind. This is where the “Belief Inertia” concept is specified.
Thanks to Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky for their seminal behavioral economics journal article - Prospect Theory. Their work describes the science behind loss perception.
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