That is Dr. Johnson’s definition of polymathy, and like most of his definitions it is hard to improve on. The word polymath comes straight from the Greek term πολυμαθής, used by both Plato and Aristotle (among others), which means “having learned a lot.” It is not a complicated idea.
So why are so many people asking the question “Am I a polymath”?
“This quiz explores whether you have the traits of a polymath,” says one site. “How does one know if they’re a polymath?” asks a random Reddit poster. “How do I know if I am a polymath?” asks someone on Quora. An Instagram post: “5 signs of a polymathic mind. How many did you get?” “Psychology of How to Recognize a Polymath,” “5 Signs You’re a Polymath,” “5 Signs You Might Be a Polymath,” “5 Rare Signs You’re a Polymath,” “10 Signs You’re a Polymath,” and “5 Signs You’re a Polymath (Most People Don’t Even Know They Are),” all on YouTube. The canonical number of signs seems to be five; the outliers who find seven signs or ten signs are probably just making things up. No, Dr. Boli isn’t going to link to all those, because that would be work, and therefore against his principles.
The most revealing title comes from the magazine Forbes: “Do You Have a ‘Polymathic Personality’? A Psychologist Explains.”
Now we understand what is going on. Anyone can look up the definition of “polymath” in the dictionary. But these people are looking for a diagnosis, not a definition. They want to find out what box they belong in, because popular culture demands that you must fit in a box with a label, and once you are properly tagged you must go into your box and stay there and never come out. It is a dreadfully important thing to know what shelf you belong on, and it comes with benefits as well. Once you have found your pigeonhole, you have an excuse for all kinds of laziness and impoliteness. “I can’t help it,” you can say. “I’m a polymath.” (Thus many of the titles on YouTube are followed by “Society Can’t Handle You,” meaning that teachers and colleagues keep telling you that you ought to be more polite, but you don’t want to be.)
Now, it is true that there are social forces that might make a polymath, in Dr. Johnson’s definition, feel uncomfortable. People of limited brain will tell people who are interested in the world around them that they are wasting their time. Stop smelling the mignonette and gazing at the sunset and get back to the important thing, which is earning your MBA. We suspect that many of the people out there looking for a diagnosis are simply looking for an excuse for being delighted by geometry or Baroque music or wild birds, because in their youth they had constant voices around them telling them to knuckle down and stick to their majors. Perhaps a diagnosis of polymathy is a real benefit to these people, because it allows them to make peace with their own innate tendency to find the world interesting. Perhaps they were tortured by guilt every time they enjoyed an obscure Restoration dramatist that no one else seemed to know about, and now at last they can let the guilt go and be themselves.
But what does it say about our culture that we need a psychological diagnosis of polymathy in order to find more than one thing interesting? What does it mean when we find dozens of articles describing polymathy as neurodivergence—a word usually reserved for saying nice things about psychological difficulties like dyslexia that we wish we didn’t have?
To Dr. Boli, what it says is that we have all accepted slavery as our natural condition. We thought we had won our freedom from slavery. We thought that equality was within our grasp, and we were right: but instead of bringing the slaves up to the level of the former masters, we gradually brought everyone down to the level of the former slaves. It is not for us to have any aspirations beyond the task at hand. We have our assignments, and there will be taskmasters to herd us back if we slack off.
This does not mean that we live like slaves materially. We have very nice things. Even the poor in the United States are generally rich by world standards. But we are slaves intellectually. A rich person of two centuries ago would have been expected as a matter of course to have some interest in literature, in architecture, in music, in science, and in a number of other things that distinguished a lady or a gentleman from a common laborer. Now our rich are perhaps the most slavish of us all: they devote their minds exclusively to the pursuit of wealth, and we reward their devotion not just with money but also with our adulation.
So if you are interested in more than one thing, accept your diagnosis. Polymathy is your certificate of manumission, your hall pass, your get-out-of-jail-free card, the thing that makes it possible for you to say, “I’m allowed to be interested in more than one thing.” In fact, you are not just allowed: you are required. Polymathy is your label; you must get into your box and stay there, just like everybody else. But the box labeled “polymath” is the only box that turns out to be as big as the whole universe.