Fact Check Me: The Smart Ones

There’s a kind of person you don’t meet often — not in the real world, anyway.

Not at work, not in traffic, not in line at Costco, not at those dinners where everyone politely pretends to be interested in everyone else.

I’m talking about the smart ones.

Not “book smart.”

Not “grades smart.”

Not the ones who memorize facts like a storage unit and call it wisdom.

I mean the people who can actually think.

The ones who read a comment and don’t immediately go hunting for a reason to get offended.

The ones who don’t treat every exchange like a battlefield with winners and losers.

The ones who know curiosity isn’t a weakness, that humility isn’t humiliation, and that intelligence isn’t a sport you win — it’s a space you inhabit.

Being around people like that feels like stepping into warm light after living under buzzing fluorescents.

It’s not competition.

It’s conversation.

It’s not judgment.

It’s exploration.

It’s not ego.

It’s presence — the ability to hear someone fully, even when they disagree, even when they challenge you, even when they surprise you.

Especially then.

And I think that’s why I’m drawn to this place —

to Substack, to these threads, to these minds.

Because here, for once, I’m surrounded by people who get it.

People who understand that ideas aren’t precious — they’re tools.

That discussion doesn’t have to be war.

That truth doesn’t belong to any one person, but we can all pick up a piece of it together.

It feels a bit like academia —

the good version, not the pretentious cafeteria version.

A room full of people who want to understand the world,

not just win the argument about it.

And maybe that’s what I’ve been craving without knowing it.

Not applause.

Not validation.

Not followers or stats or likes.

Just minds.

Other minds — sharp ones, open ones, funny ones, wounded ones, generous ones —

minds that can hold an idea without dropping it or throwing it back at you like a weapon.

People who don’t panic the moment nuance enters the chat.

People who know that bias is the default condition and fighting it is the work.

People who aren’t scared of changing their minds,

or challenging tradition,

or breaking protocol,

or asking the only question that ever mattered:

Why?

These are my people.

This is where I’m supposed to be.

And if that sounds arrogant, relax — I’m not putting myself above anyone.

I’m just saying I finally found a room

where thinking out loud doesn’t make you the weirdo.

And maybe — just maybe —

you’re one of the smart ones too.

If not, well…

you know what to do.

Fact Check Me.