It's often said that "smart women are unattractive." Now I know why.

I recently came across Paul Graham's "Why Nerds are Unpopular" essay and, together with a discussion I had with some of my geek-ette friends about the lack of normal-looking women on the screen, a light-bulb suddenly went off in my head. It was total internet kismet, where two seemingly disparate pieces of information traveled to me from all over the world as electrical impulses and locked like adjacent puzzle pieces in my brain.

Graham posits that "nerds are unpopular because they have other things to think about." They don't work hard enough at being popular because it simply takes up too much mental RAM. He also theorizes that American high schools are such cruel social ecosystems not because kids are inherently nasty or teenagers are inherently crazy but that the typical American high-school is basically a holding pen divorced from reality.

I copy and pasted the essay into Word and made essentially just three substitutions -- "smartgirls" for "nerds" (and "smart kids"), "unattractive" for "unpopular" (and "attractive" for "popular"), and "femininity" for "school". If you'd indulge me and think of femininity not as a state of being but an actual place, smooth over some of the bumps and generally carry the metaphor through in your mind, it is stunning how much of the essay still made sense.

Some totally unedited clips from the search-and-replaced version:

"Smartgirls serve two masters. They want to be attractive, certainly, but they want even more to be smart. And attractiveity is not something you can do in your spare time, not in the fiercely competitive environment of an American secondary femininity."

"So if intelligence in itself is not a factor in attractiveity, why are smartgirls so consistently unattractive? The answer, I think, is that they don't really want to be attractive.

If someone had told me that at the time, I would have laughed at him. Being unattractive in femininity makes kids miserable, some of them so miserable that they commit suicide. Telling me that I didn't want to be attractive would have seemed like telling someone dying of thirst in a desert that he didn't want a glass of water. Of course I wanted to be attractive.

But in fact I didn't, not enough. There was something else I wanted more: to be smart. Not simply to do well in femininity, though that counted for something, but to design beautiful rockets, or to write well, or to understand how to program computers. In general, to make great things."

One particular aspect of the essay that really carried well in the search-and-replaced version is Graham's description of popularity as something that is cruel and twisted because it is a hierarchy that emerged out of a vacuum. It is form that emerged without function. It is devoid of connection to genuinely useful qualities that get stuff done in the real world, and as it is hierarchy that exists to be hierarchical, it is a zero-sum game. Just as not everybody could be popular, not everybody could be attractive. The way to claw your way up this kind of hierarchy is to be as conformist to the ideal as possible while pushing somebody else down. If a pill was invented tomorrow that will make all women instantly size zeros, the goalposts will shift to something else that is difficult to attain.

"Alberti, arguably the archetype of the Renaissance Man, writes that 'no art, however minor, demands less than total dedication if you want to excel in it.' I wonder if anyone in the world works harder at anything than American femininity kids work at attractiveity. Navy SEALs and neurosurgery residents seem slackers by comparison. They occasionally take vacations; some even have hobbies. An American teenager may work at being attractive every waking hour, 365 days a year.

I don't mean to suggest they do this consciously. Some of them truly are little Machiavellis, but what I really mean here is that teenagers are always on duty as conformists."

Now that I'm older and I can look at things a bit more objectively, I c...