Dear friends,
It consistently blows my mind how important people, ideas, and places find their way back to you again and again.
In 2016, I studied computer science at Bradfield. The school’s founder kept a well-stocked shelf of books near the kitchen. One day, frustrated and pooped from a long morning, I trudged over to the kitchen for a coffee break.
While waiting for my coffee to brew, I spotted an intriguing title wedged between two textbooks.
The Society of Mind by Marvin Minsky.
I started thumbing through its pages. Its first lines read:
This book tries to explain how the mind works. How can intelligence emerge from non-intelligence? To answer that, we’ll show that you can build a mind from many little parts, each mindless by itself.
Something about that beginning hooked me. This book became my morning companion. I took it with me for my daily morning indulgence at the neighborhood bakery (Vive La Tarte).
Now it’s 2022, what feels like a lifetime away from those days.
Yet earlier this week, Minsky found his way back. I was working on Overlay, my self-fashioned Google Docs for Video. One crucial part of my vision for Overlay is that if athletes and artists get really good feedback on their work, they’ll significantly improve at whatever they wish to accomplish.
But I was struggling to figure out how it is exactly that people actually learn anything at all. Are we mere imitation machines? Do we just copy what we see, pattern match a bit, leave the rest up to “talent”, and that’s that?
I had confidently written to you earlier this month about how I believe learning happens. But now I was completely second-guessing my conclusions.
And then something in my head whispered “Society of Mind”.
What the hell? I ignored it.
A few hours later, I stumbled upon Bryan Johnson’s essay “I fired Evening Bryan”. Which again reminded me of Minsky’s book.
Hmmm … okay universe. You’re telling me to dip back into the Minsky pool.
So I found a digital copy and paged through it again. And I came across this passage:
Why do certain people learn so many more and better skills? These all-important differences could begin with early accidents.
One child works out clever ways to arrange some blocks in rows and stacks; a second child plays at rearranging how it thinks.
Everyone can praise the first child's castles and towers, but no one can see what the second child has done, and one may even get the false impression of a lack of industry.
But if the second child persists in seeking better ways to learn, this can lead to silent growth in which some better ways to learn may lead to better ways to learn to learn.
Then, later, we'll observe an awesome, qualitative change, with no apparent cause — and give to it some empty name like talent, aptitude, or gift.
Aha! This is what the world wanted me to find.
Are we Imitation Machines, copiers, rote memorizers, pattern engineers? Or is that just what it looks like from the outside?
I’m increasingly convinced that we are Curiosity Organisms, brimming with empathy and a desire to figure things out for ourselves, with others.
I want to keep this email brief, but there’s a lot I have to share about the rabbit hole this took me down. Here’s a preview of what I found.
Linear and Nonlinear Practice
In 2014, researchers conducted a 4-week training intervention with a group of young tennis players.
One group received Linear instruction — a coach instructed them on their technique (“racquet in front”, “turn shoulders to the side”, “move to ball and step”, “end swing above opposite shoulder”)
Another group received Nonlinear instruction — a coach instructed them to achieve certain goals given task constraints (hit the ball this high over the net, aim for this cone, hit the ball past the service line, etc)
The open question: How would the groups perform at the end of the 4 weeks across a series of assessments? Here’s what they found.
Both groups significantly improved the accuracy of their strokes.
The Linear group excelled at having their technique adhere to the model technique offered by their coaches.
The Nonlinear group excelled at figuring out multiple ways to successfully hit the ball.
Most interestingly to me:
The Nonlinear group better retained their accuracy when retested later.
The best technique came from a player in the Linear group. This player also had the worst accuracy score of the group.
The best accuracy score came from a player in the Nonlinear group.
It bears repeating that players from both groups significantly improved their performance. One-on-one coaching works quite well, though we’re not sure why.
But what is happening in the heads of the players in the Nonlinear group? Why is this approach to instruction associated with learning outcome resilience?
I’m hoping to crack this nut as I keep working on Overlay. Many more thoughts around this that I’ll share as I understand it all a bit better.
Here are some links for your perusal:
Happy Friday everyone!
Ammar