One question has followed me through most of my adult life: what is intelligence, really? Not as an abstract concept, but as something lived and felt, especially in human systems, and now increasingly in machines.

My first real confrontation with this question came in high school in Morocco. I ended up, somewhat randomly, in what everyone around me considered the elite track: Sciences Math. The implicit social contract was clear: only the smart ones end up here. I never saw myself as smart in that nerdy, effortless way. So I spent most of that time watching. Observing the people around me with a quiet, almost anthropological curiosity. How were they processing this level of mathematical complexity so naturally? What was different about the way their minds worked? What did they have that I didn’t?