Take a look at almost any self-improvement book, blog, article, podcast episode, or social media page and you will notice that something is glaringly absent.

Or maybe you won’t notice it, for the same reason.

Maybe it’s just me.

It seems that everywhere I look, writers and influencers extol the “Daft Punk” virtues: how to be faster, better, stronger, more efficient, more resilient, more put together, more connected. How to do more in less time. How to be “successful” —whatever that means.

All of these qualities are good, or at least, not harmful. We’re wired to desire them.

But something crucial is missing from the equation: how do we know when we’ve achieved any of these things, and to what extent? And how do we balance them with each other and with other things in life we care about? How does it all fit together?

Most of these writers and influencers will tell you in so many words, “I don’t know; that’s up to you to figure out.” I agree; no one can tell you how to live your life. But that’s why it’s all the most urgent that you do figure it out. And there’s no feasible way to do that without the underrated, unglamorous character trait we call “wisdom.”

Who was the last person you met who said, “I aspire to be wise in life”, anyway?

I admit that on my list of “to be’s”, wisdom wasn’t at the top until I started thinking about it quite recently. To be fair, “wisdom” as a word might need a bit of a makeover. It’s the glue that helps us navigate life, but for some reason, it has dusty old connotations that conjure up images of bearded sages and wide-eyed owls.

As important as wisdom is, I believe we struggle with it as a society today for two reasons: we have a hard time defining it, and an even harder time measuring it. It’s worth tackling both.

How do you define wisdom?

Most people who give any thought at all to the topic will define wisdom as “knowledge applied.”

If you take a peek at Merriam-Webster or other modern dictionaries, however, you’ll find a range of definitions, from “knowledge accumulated” (I’m not convinced that’s the same thing) to “good sense” and “insight.”

I believe that all of these are aspects of a greater whole. Both Socrates in the West and his counterpart in the East, Confucius, emphasized wisdom as an important aspect of existence. For them and their successors, wisdom wasn’t a niche idea — it was a central component of existence. We view them fondly as wise old men, but do we take their views seriously?

The word “philosophy” itself literally means “love of wisdom”, but in the last century or two we’ve come to view philosophy less as a practical, relevant pursuit for all thoughtful people and more and more as an esoteric field of study. It’s no surprise that “wisdom” has also fallen out of vogue.

Words need a clear definition in order to have power. Wisdom unfortunately is not a tangible, concretely defined term, but here is my definition of it:

Having a correct or superior understanding of how life and reality operate— whether through study or experience or both — and applying that understanding to how you live your life.

Philosophers, writers, and other people over the centuries have each put their spin on it, but that’s mine.

How do you measure wisdom?

Now that we have a working definition (although if you have issues with mine, I welcome alternatives), we can broach the idea of measuring wisdom.

How do you become wise? How do you know how wise you are (or aren’t)?

Another reason that wisdom is not a popular term in today’s vocabulary is that it eludes visible, clear metrics unlike, say, productivity. Making your bed and waking up early are simple and obvious metrics. We get a dopamine reward for checking them off our list. But wisdom? It’s a very different beast.

Even scientists aren’t sure what to do with it. In the 80’s, a psychologist named Paul Baltes, along with several colleagues, created what’s known as the Berlin Wisdom Paradigm. It’s essentially a research-based attempt to uncover what wisdom is, how it’s developed, and how it impacts individuals’ lives. ¹

As noble as the idea was and is, it’s come under its share of criticism for emphasizing cognitive knowledge and decision-making over more emotional and reflective aspects of wisdom. I don’t find this surprising: science (including “soft” science) can’t fully explain the deepest parts of our psyches.

“They will envy you for your success, for your wealth, for your intelligence, for your looks, for your status — but rarely for your wisdom.”

This leads to an even bigger problem with wisdom: it’s very much tied to a value system, to morality. Is it wise to hide the facts about your adopted child’s true parentage from them? Is it wise to say “yes” to a request from your boss that leaves you feeling used and resentful?

These questions, and ones much hairier, can easily spark arguments. If wisdom means understanding reality, how come we all understand reality differently?

In order to not go off the rails, we must agree that at least some things in reality are objectively true and knowable and that we can cultivate wisdom by understanding them. Wisdom can be personal as well; there may not be a single answer to every question in life, and being wise is realizing this rather than being dogmatic.

Considering all this, is it possible to measure wisdom at all? Can we feel with any certainty that we’re wiser now than we were before?

If we can — and I do believe we can — it won’t be in a way that is obvious or apparent, especially to others. Because life is lived incrementally, wisdom is gained incrementally. It requires continual reflection and readjustment, in thought and where necessary, in action.

Wisdom is not a sexy virtue; cultivating it might even seem thankless at times. In the cynically apt words of the modern-day philosopher Nassim Taleb: “They will envy you for your success, for your wealth, for your intelligence, for your looks, for your status — but rarely for your wisdom.”

Luckily, being wise means realizing that other people’s opinions don’t matter in the end; only what we think of ourselves, and whether we live our lives to the best of our understanding.

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Read Next: Why We Need Philosophy (More Than Ever) →

1. Baltes, P. B., & Smith, J. (2008). The Fascination of Wisdom: Its Nature, Origins, and Development. National Center for State Courts. You can read it here.