Is Intuition Actually the Highest Form of Intelligence?

When it comes to business books on intuition, the vast majority have been written by decision science experts who view intuition as merely a tool for making decisions. In Intuition at Work, Gary Klein argued that intuition is a powerful decision-making faculty that can be systematically developed. In Gut Feelings: The Intelligence of the Unconscious, psychologist Gerd Gigerenzer discusses how intuitive judgments can be both accurate and efficient, emphasizing the intelligence inherent in our unconscious processes.

But intuition is so much more than just a decision-making trick. Intuition is knowing without knowing how you know. It is a way of understanding that transcends facts, logic, and rational analysis. Intuition comes from a deeper place—we are not sure where—perhaps the subconscious mind, perhaps the soul, or maybe even another source.

One thing we know for sure: intuition has been the driving force behind many of humanity's most remarkable creative achievements.

Think of the brilliant innovations that have sprung forth from sudden flashes of insight: the theory of relativity that popped into Einstein's head, the structure of DNA envisioned by Watson in a dream. Paul McCartney reportedly wrote Yesterday in a single inspired burst.

These Eureka moments, born of pure intuition, reveal a knowing that surpasses the bounds of the analytical mind. But there’s another kind of intuitive knowing—perhaps even more profound—that transcends creativity and delves into survival, connection, and wisdom.

Over 15 years ago, I was driving on the highway late at night with my entire family in the car. We were going about 65 miles per hour when, suddenly, I was seized by an overwhelming conviction that something was horribly wrong. I had no evidence for this—no logical reason—but I knew it with such intensity that without a single conscious thought, I immediately slammed my foot on the brake pedal.

Perhaps one second later, I saw sparks flying from the left rear wheel of the minivan in front of us. The van spun out of control, directly into our path. Time seemed to slow as the spinning vehicle drew closer while our speed gradually decreased. After what felt like an eternity, the van screeched to a halt, mere feet from our front bumper.

The only reason we avoided a collision was because I had started braking before there were any visible signs of trouble. Somehow, I just knew. My intuition, sensing danger before my conscious mind could, saved us. This is what makes intuition extraordinary. It enables us to know what we have no logical way of knowing. It grants us access to a level of understanding that defies explanation.

For those tempted to suggest that my subconscious mind noticed subtle visual evidence before the sparks registered in my conscious brain, this isn’t the only time intuition has kept me safe. There have been other instances in which the odds of seeing or hearing a warning were literally zero.

Science suggests that intuition may arise from the brain’s ability to rapidly process subtle environmental cues and draw on past experiences. But the "eureka" aspects of intuition are deeper than a neural calculation; they feel mystical. Albert Einstein captured this sentiment when he said, "The intuitive mind is a sacred gift, and the rational mind is a faithful servant."

(There is some debate about whether he actually said this. Don’t believe everything you read.)

Still, in our society, we have come to honor the servant while neglecting the gift.

Many modern organizations reflect this imbalance. In our increasingly data-driven world, intuition is often dismissed as unscientific or unreliable. Yet intuition is not a substitute for logic or analysis—it complements them. It is not about skipping the hard work of understanding; it’s about reaching clarity after you’ve done the work. As Gerd Gigerenzer points out, intuition often involves instinctively recognizing what information can be discarded and honing in on what truly matters.

Wharton professor Adam Grant notes that "Writers and physicists report that 20% of their most important ideas happen during mind-wandering—and those ideas are more likely to be ‘aha’ moments.” He advocates for setting aside time for daydreaming, an essential practice for cultivating intuition. Yet how many organizations actively encourage such exploration?

Twelve? Maybe fifteen?

Instead, rigid processes and an over-reliance on data stifle creativity and intuition alike.

The limitations of a purely data-driven approach are stark. Data can reveal patterns, but it cannot always provide meaning or context. Worse, it can mislead. Gary Marcus and Ernest Davis once observed in The New York Times that "a big data analysis might reveal that from 2006 to 2011 the U.S. murder rate was well correlated with the market share of Internet Explorer. But it’s hard to imagine there is any causal relationship."

Intuition allows us to navigate these ambiguities. It helps us identify the biases, noise, and blind spots that even sophisticated algorithms cannot eliminate. It provides a human counterbalance to the mechanical, a way to see beyond what the numbers say.

The smartest, most creative people listen to their intuition. They know how to balance rigorous analysis with the wisdom of their inner voice. They understand that the facts might tell you one thing, but when intuition screams the opposite, you’d be wise to pay attention.

If we want to unlock our fullest potential, we must learn to honor and cultivate the sacred gift of intuition. For it is not merely a tool for decision-making. It is a doorway to the highest form of intelligence we can access.

I'd love it if you could share your own intuitive experiences...

I'm Bruce Kasanoff, a proud member of Marshall Goldsmith's 100 Coaches community. The 100 Coaches Agency finds the world's best coaches for the world's top leaders. If you are a leader committed to improving your results and those of your organization, I will be glad to make a personal introduction to the Agency for you. You can contact me here.