Love for "wisdom" is an escape from the self.

 One’s love of “wisdom” often masks a deeper cowardice toward life itself, a fear of confronting the void within. It becomes the last refuge for those unable to accept, digest, or endure being “bad” or “weak”—a shallow shelter cloaking themselves in a semblance of goodness or depth. The constant need to justify themselves stems from this: they lack the capacity to be “wrong.” This type is the most dangerous, for they wear the guise of “intelligence” and “enlightenment” while harboring only a fragile facade. They are neither black nor white, but an insidious gray.