June 21, 2018
Elizabeth texted me last week, “I’m sad we don’t have much more time here, there are so many things I want to do.”
A major benefit of leaving a city is it forces you to do the things you’ve been putting off until “some other day.”
I scrambled to go to a Titans game, to catch another Ryman show, to get beers with some mentors of mine.
“Yeah, we should totally do the Architecture Boat Tour one weekend.” “It’s been way too long, we should catch up soon.” “One day we’ll eat at Alinea.”
Now’s the time to see those friends, to eat at that restaurant, to throw that party.
There’s no sense in wasting time doing things you feel obligated to do if you’re leaving soon.
June 20, 2018
Unknown knowns and the Gell-Mann Amnesia effect
When I read the news, I accept everything as it’s written as fact. I soak up geopolitics and stock analysis, questioning nothing until I encounter an article about Net Neutrality. And then I shake my head, because the article is egregiously wrong. The article will lack nuance or, worse, will completely mix up the motivations of the subjects involved.
But then, after being exposed for the consensus-driven drivel it is, I’ll turn the page and go right back to taking every sentence I read at face value.
Michael Crichton called this the Gell-Mann Amnesia. “Often, the article is so wrong it actually presents the story backward—reversing cause and effect. I call these the “wet streets cause rain” stories. Paper’s full of them. In any case, you read with exasperation or amusement the multiple errors in a story, and then turn the page to national or international affairs, and read as if the rest of the newspaper was somehow more accurate about Palestine than the baloney you just read.”
I think Crichton is right, but I don’t think it’s because we have short-term amnesia.
I think it’s because we don’t know what we know.
We all seem to have the tendency to think that whoever we’re talking to knows what we know. The reason we assume other people know what we know is because assuming the opposite - that other people don’t know what we know - is hard work.
For example, it’s hard for a computer scientist to describe a database to a kindergartner. It’s not that a database is a complicated concept, but instead it’s because we don’t know what a kindergartner’s reference point is. “Do they know what a garage is? How about a warehouse? Can I mention arrays?”
With kindergartners, it’s obvious they don’t know everything we know. But for people our age, and certainly for people who are paid to write Big And Fancy Articles, we assume they know at least what we know. If we didn’t assume that other people share our knowledge, then communicating would be an order of magnitude more difficult. We’d spend our whole day trying to explain databases to kindergartners.
Pop culture has termed this phenomenon “You don’t know what you know.”
There are at least two negative consequences of ignoring our unknown knowns.
The first is that we share our ideas less. If I read something, and have an insight, my first reaction is usually, “Everybody else has already thought of that.” The reality is few people come to the same conclusions as any of us do. Yet I struggle to write posts or mention ideas because I assume everybody else has already considered them.
The second negative consequence is intellectual envy. I get envious of people when they post interesting insights. When somebody Tweets something thought-provoking, I am in awe of the concept. I begin to feel intellectually inferior because I assume that 1) the author knows everything that I know, and 2) they’ve added a new and original thought on top of everything I already know.
We are so quick to discredit ourselves. We are quick to forget what we know. And because we don’t know what we know, then we assume everybody knows everything we know.
It’s a small subtlety, but it inhibits us.
June 20, 2018
Users hate software.
“This is going to be really painful, and in the end, it’s not going to work.” -Every user everywhere when they sign up for a new service.
June 18, 2018
Stories, by Steven Pinker
I am fascinated by Steven Pinker’s example of how humans remember things.
Our brain can hold only about six bits of information in our working memory at once.
M D P H D R S V P C E O I H O P
How many of those letters can you remember immediately after reading them?
If we compress the random letters above into familiar groups, we’re able to remember them all easily:
MD PHD RSVP CEO IHOP
It’s easier to remember them all when they’re condensed into five chunks. But we can do even better:
The MD and the PhD RSVP'd to the CEO of IHOP.
Stories are our competitive advantage as a species. The great storytellers among us can wield outsize power.
June 17, 2018
“It never gets easier, you just get faster.”
There is something inspirational in knowing that Greg LeMond also sweats his face off when he bikes for an hour. The main difference between me and him is that when he bikes for an hour, he can ride the length of an entire marathon.
It reminds me of learning PHP late at night at a tiny desk on the 7th floor of Central Library. If my laptop wouldn’t spit out what I expected, I’d threaten to throw it out the window.
My laptop never listened to me.
I often forget about my late nights in Central Library. I forget how maddening it was learning how to program.
Nowadays I can easily store values in variables and manipulate strings. But figuring out the right system of tests to run or the right database architecture to choose is still maddening.
Learning is hard. I hope it keeps feeling hard.