Why judging Bangladesh by its IQ score is misleading
A recent global IQ ranking placed Bangladesh near the bottom. But it’s not about whether Bangladeshis are “smart enough,” the problem lies in how intelligence is misread as a fixed national trait rather than a policy outcome shaped by material conditions
A recent global ranking by World Population Review placed Bangladesh 150th out of 198 countries, assigning it an average IQ score of 74.33. The ranking draws on compiled studies by British psychologist Richard Lynn and relies on proxy indicators such as International Cognitive Ability estimates and PISA-related data.
What is notable, however, is not the score itself but the reaction it provoked. As the figures circulated on social media, they triggered widespread insecurity and heated debate. A particularly troubling response was the way some people referred to the ranking to distance themselves from Bangladeshi identity, mostly to belittle others. In some cases, the score was even cited as an explanation for political instability, as if a single number could account for complex political realities.
These reactions reveal more about our relationship with foreign metrics than about intelligence itself. Why do statistically fragile and culturally loaded cognitive tests carry such psychological authority in unequal societies — where millions lack access to quality education, nutrition, or test familiarity?
It's not about whether Bangladeshis are "smart enough," the problem lies in how intelligence is misread as a fixed national trait rather than a policy outcome shaped by material conditions.
To understand why such rankings mislead, it is worth recalling what IQ tests were designed to do.
Intelligence testing emerged in the early twentieth century as an administrative tool, not a measure of innate ability. In 1905, French psychologist Alfred Binet developed the first intelligence test to identify schoolchildren who required additional educational support. Binet explicitly warned against treating test results as permanent judgments or indicators of biological worth.
The concept of the intelligence quotient was later introduced by William Stern, making cognitive ability easier to quantify and compare. This numerical framing enabled the rapid expansion of IQ testing, particularly in the United States, where Lewis Terman adapted Binet's work into the Stanford–Binet test. During World War I, mass testing of army recruits normalised large-scale IQ assessment but also detached it from its original, limited purpose.
The developers of these IQ tests have assumed a largely homogeneous environment. But societies are not homogeneous — certainly not all countries. Bangladesh, in particular, is a highly heterogeneous society.
Over time, IQ tests became tools of classification and exclusion, frequently stripped of cultural and social context. They were never designed to compare nations, yet they are now routinely used to rank entire populations. In doing so, structural inequalities are converted into cognitive deficits, and policy failures are quietly reframed as intellectual shortcomings.
The recent data on IQ was published by the World Population Review. But the World Population Review did not conduct any research itself; it merely compiled data. In this case, it relied on Richard Lynn's studies. Lynn passed away in 2023. Therefore, these studies are by no means recent.
Moreover, Richard Lynn described himself as a "scientific racist." He believed IQ was related to race, arguing that superior races have higher IQs. A Guardian article refers to Lynn as "one of the most significant figures in the scientific racism movement" and notes that his work has been widely criticised for bias and for being used to support racist ideology.
Moreover, the broader scientific community does not treat the IQ of any nation as a stationary figure. They consider the overall conditions of a country — nutrition, education, environment, and so on. When these factors improve, a nation's average IQ also tends to rise.
Dr Md Abdus Salam, a professor in the Institute of Education and Research (IER) at Dhaka University, believes such tests measure our policy failures far more than they measure actual intellectual capacity.
"The developers of these IQ tests have assumed a largely homogeneous environment. But societies are not homogeneous — certainly not all countries. Bangladesh, in particular, is a highly heterogeneous society," said Dr Salam.
For example, you cannot simply implement Finland's curriculum in Bangladesh. Finland's education system is built on a set of criteria and contextual conditions that are very different. The same applies to IQ testing: basic education itself is a foundational criterion.
In countries like the US or Japan, there is a certain level of homogeneity in basic education and related structural factors. In a developing society like Bangladesh, that homogeneity does not exist. As a result, wide variations in outcomes are inevitable — and entirely expected.
"When you try to apply the same test or the same scale across countries, policy conditions must also be comparable. Without that, the results are bound to be misleading," Dr Salam added.
The disproportionate attention given to this statistically fragile and methodologically weak foreign metric reveals the lingering influence of colonial frameworks that still shape how we perceive knowledge and competence.
Rather than fixating on externally imposed rankings, our focus should be on strengthening the structural conditions that foster human development: improving education, nutrition, healthcare, and social infrastructure. These are the levers that genuinely shape cognitive and societal outcomes.
Measuring intelligence through foreign metrics tells us little about actual ability; investing in policies that expand opportunity, reduce inequality, and enhance living conditions will yield far more meaningful results.
