In the natural world, few creatures are as fascinating as the remora fish. Equipped with a suction disc on its head, it attaches itself to sharks, whales and sea turtles, hitching a ride across the oceans while enjoying protection from predators and feeding on scraps left behind by its hosts. In return, the remora performs a useful service by removing parasites from the larger animal’s skin and even cleaning food residue from between its teeth.
This remarkable biological relationship offers an intriguing metaphor for a phenomenon that has become increasingly visible in parts of the Arab cultural and media landscape: what might be called the “remora intellectual”.
Unlike the stereotype of the uninformed critic, the remora intellectual is often well-read, articulate and capable of sophisticated argument. The problem is not a lack of knowledge but a lack of intellectual initiative. Rarely does this figure develop an original body of work or sustain a meaningful research project. Instead, their public presence depends almost entirely on attaching themselves to the work of others.
While serious writers, researchers and journalists devote countless hours to reading, investigating and producing original ideas, the remora intellectual waits patiently for the finished product. Rather than engaging with the substance of an argument, they search for a misplaced word, an unfortunate phrase, an ambiguous sentence or a minor oversight that can be magnified into a public controversy. Their contribution shifts from generating ideas to policing those who do.
There is, of course, nothing wrong with criticism. On the contrary, thoughtful criticism is indispensable to any healthy intellectual culture. Civilisations advance through debate, scrutiny and the constant refinement of ideas. But there is an important distinction between criticism intended to strengthen an argument and criticism driven primarily by the desire to undermine the person presenting it.
Over time, some remora intellectuals become entirely dependent on the productivity of others. Their relevance relies on the continued output of serious thinkers and creators. If those producing ideas were to stop writing, speaking or publishing, these critics would soon find themselves without material on which to feed.
This dynamic is particularly evident on social media, especially on X, where the speed of interaction encourages outrage over reflection. A passing mistake becomes a prolonged battle, while an honest attempt at intellectual exploration is transformed into an opportunity for public shaming or self-promotion.
Perhaps the most striking characteristic of the remora intellectual is the combination of opportunism and hostility. They benefit from the visibility and influence of those they criticise, yet attack them with increasing intensity because their target’s prominence provides them with an audience. When ignored, they often escalate their rhetoric, suggesting that the objective was never to examine an idea but to secure attention and recognition for themselves.
The Arab intellectual sphere undoubtedly needs more criticism, not less. But it needs criticism that is responsible, intellectually honest and directed at improving ideas rather than exploiting their imperfections. A vibrant culture is sustained by those who create knowledge, challenge assumptions and enrich public debate, not by those who remain permanently attached to the efforts of others.
The spectators who devote themselves exclusively to dissecting the work of creators may always remain visible. Yet, like the remora itself, they are seldom the ones leading the journey.
