When ‘Creativity’ Became a Thing

Creativity feels elemental. Natural. Human. We praise “creative people,” value “creative thinking,” and organize our lives around the pursuit of new ideas. Creativity seems timeless—almost sacred.

But here’s the twist: for much of human history, creativity didn’t exist as we know it. The word barely appeared. The concept hadn’t yet crystallized. And the people we now label as “creative” were understood very differently.

This essay traces the history of creativity—not the act itself, but the idea of it. How did “creativity” become a thing? When did we start talking about it this way? And what does that shift reveal about how we see ourselves?

In the Beginning: Only Gods Created

In ancient cultures, creation was divine. Humans could imitate, discover, or uncover—but not create in the full sense. Only gods brought something into being from nothing.

The Latin root of our word—creare—originally referred to divine acts or biological reproduction, not artistic invention. To “create” was to make life or bring forth what had been hidden—not to produce new ideas or artworks.

Plato believed that artists merely imitated the eternal Forms. Art was not a creation of something new, but a reflection of something already ideal. Genius was divine possession, not personal skill.

The Middle Ages: Inspiration, Not Innovation

In medieval Europe, the creative act was interpreted theologically. Beauty and order reflected God’s design, not human originality. Artists and architects served a higher truth. Their works were seen as craftsmanship in devotion, not self-expression.

Creativity, as we now think of it—individual originality, innovation, invention—was largely absent. The highest praise was faithfulness to tradition, not deviation from it.

The Renaissance: Sparks of Individualism

The Renaissance brought a subtle shift. Artists like Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo were celebrated as exceptional. Their signatures mattered. Their imaginations were admired.

Still, “creativity” wasn’t quite the word. These figures were called “ingenious” or “divinely inspired”—but the underlying assumption remained that great ideas came from beyond, not from within.

The romantic image of the artist as an independent visionary was beginning to form—but it wasn’t yet fully modern.

The Enlightenment and the Invention of Genius

In the 18th century, European thought embraced reason, empiricism, and individual potential. Immanuel Kant introduced the idea of the artist-genius: someone whose originality couldn’t be explained by rules or imitation.

This marked a crucial pivot. Instead of being a conduit for divine wisdom, the genius became a source of innovation. Creativity was no longer just imitation—it was invention.

But “creativity” still wasn’t widely used. Genius was rare, exceptional, mysterious. It hadn’t yet become democratized—or industrialized.

The 19th Century: Romanticism and the Tortured Artist

With Romanticism came a deepening of the genius myth: the lonely, tortured creator, misunderstood by society but blessed (or cursed) with a burning inner vision.

This era redefined creativity as emotional, intuitive, and deeply personal. Great works were said to emerge from suffering, longing, and imagination—rather than logic or training.

Still, creativity remained the province of artists. It had not yet been applied to business, science, education, or everyday problem-solving.

The 20th Century: Creativity Goes Mainstream

Only in the 20th century did creativity become a universal human trait.

Psychologists began to study it systematically. In 1950, J.P. Guilford gave a landmark address calling creativity one of the most neglected topics in psychology. Researchers began testing “divergent thinking,” exploring links between creativity and intelligence, and developing the first creativity assessments.

Suddenly, creativity was quantifiable. It could be taught, trained, improved. It was no longer just the province of artists—it was a key to innovation, entrepreneurship, and self-actualization.

Creativity as Economic Engine

By the late 20th century, the rise of the “creative class” (as coined by Richard Florida) reframed creativity as an economic force. Cities competed to attract “creatives.” Innovation became a buzzword. Jobs in tech, design, and media were rebranded as “creative work.”

Corporations adopted brainstorming, design thinking, and “creative disruption” as standard business tools. Education systems promoted “21st-century skills” with creativity at the core.

Creativity became not just a human capacity—but a personal brand.

The Creativity Myth: What We Lose

As creativity spread, so did a set of myths:

• That creativity is rare or innate
• That it only happens in art or innovation
• That it’s about sudden insight, not slow development
• That it must be useful or original to be valid

In reality, creativity is contextual, incremental, and widely distributed. It happens in families, friendships, languages, recipes, routines—not just in studios or start-ups.

We didn’t always call it “creativity.” But humans have always reimagined the world.

Try This: Reclaim Everyday Creativity

Think of something you did this week that wasn’t brilliant, but was inventive:

• A clever fix to a broken tool?
• A meal made from random leftovers?
• A playful twist on a conversation?
• A problem reframed in a better light?

That counts. That’s creativity—not in capital letters, but in lived experience.

Conclusion: Creativity Wasn’t Always a Thing

There was a time when humans didn’t “create”—they imitated, revealed, or discovered. Over centuries, the idea of creativity evolved: from divine act to genius gift to everyday skill.

Today, we wear creativity like a badge. We teach it, optimize it, monetize it. But maybe we’ve made it too narrow—too performative, too commercial, too individual.

What if creativity is less about being unique, and more about being alive to possibility?

In that case, creativity isn’t something you have. It’s something you practice. And the practice began long before we gave it a name.

This article completes our Idea Histories trail — a dozen essays exploring how the concepts that shape modern thought and identity were themselves invented, debated, and transformed.