Invisible Intelligence by Welby Ings
- NZ Booklovers
- Jul 28
- 2 min read

Welby Ings’ Invisible Intelligence is a compassionate, incisive, and quietly revolutionary book that challenges the dominant narratives around intelligence and learning in modern education. Drawing from his life as a learner who “didn’t fit,” as well as his experience as a teacher, filmmaker, and academic, Ings presents a compelling case for reimagining how we define and recognise intelligence in our classrooms.
At the heart of the book is a powerful argument: current educational systems rely on dangerously narrow definitions of intelligence, those primarily grounded in verbal comprehension, rational reasoning, and speed. These limited metrics, Ings argues, do not account for the rich diversity of human thought. Consequently, countless learners with creative, embodied, or non-linear ways of understanding the world are labelled as “behind” or “failing.” Invisible Intelligence not only exposes the damage this causes to individuals and communities but also offers a hopeful, practical vision for change.
Ings is a gifted storyteller. He weaves research with poignant anecdotes, some laugh-out-loud funny, others deeply moving, to illustrate the real human costs of a system that overlooks the potential of so many young people. These stories are never preachy; they are grounded in empathy, humour, and deep respect for the complexity of both students and teachers. His prose is generous and lyrical, written in a tone that feels like a conversation with a wise friend. One finishes the book not just informed, but seen.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is how it balances critique with hope. Ings does not simply tear down the system, but he does gesture towards better ways forward. He advocates for educational spaces that recognise multiple forms of intelligence, where children are allowed to think, move, create, and process in ways that suit their cognitive styles. In doing so, he affirms the tireless work of teachers while offering practical suggestions for how the profession might evolve. His reflections are never utopian; they are grounded in years of classroom practice and educational research.
What makes Invisible Intelligence stand apart is Ings’ commitment to seeing intelligence as a lived experience rather than a number or a score. He insists that intelligence shows itself in many ways, such as through compassion, resistance, imagination, resilience, and that when we fail to notice these, we not only misjudge the child, but diminish what education could be.
This book will resonate deeply with educators who have felt the tension between the demands of standardised testing and the needs of their students. It will also comfort parents and learners who have struggled to find their place in a system that was never designed for them. More than anything, Invisible Intelligence reminds us that intelligence is not always loud, visible, or easily measurable but it is always there, waiting to be recognised.
Ings has given us a book that educates, challenges, and affirms. With its mixture of insight, heart, and humour, Invisible Intelligence deserves to become essential reading for anyone invested in a more inclusive and humane vision of education.
Reviewer: Chris Reed
Otago University Press