Samuel – Knowledge Lust

I’m always impressed by podcasters, speakers, and writers who have a rich store of knowledge that they can draw from at will. And there’s very little more frustrating than when I cannot recall something I recently learned, especially when this happens in conversation. Therefore, over the last few years I’ve focused on improving my ability to remember what I read. I’ve started using various memorization techniques: I take notes while reading. I talk about what I’ve read. (often to the plight of my fiance) I read slowly and deeply. Despite my goal, last week I noticed myself mindlessly indulging in a bad habit that sabotages reading retention. My 30-minute reading timer sounded. I put down my book. And what did I do? I reached for my phone and started checking my texts. A few minutes into the binge, my better half spoke up. “What the hell man?!” it said. “How often do you do this?” Too often… Far too often… Now, why is this so bad for reading retention anyway? It seems so harmless. The reason is simple. By checking your phone, you’re NOT doing one of the best retention techniques there is. You’re not reflecting on what you’ve just read. Summarizing the information you’ve just consumed. After finishing a book, podcast, lecture, or article, if you want to actually remember the key points (aka the info you’ve identified as worth remembering), it’s important to take a few minutes to summarize that content in your own words. Even just 2-3 minutes can make a big difference. Here’s the strategy I use when I actually do my post-reading review: Identify 2-3 main points Explain them out loud, in your words (sometimes I’ll also write it down in my notebook) Connect it to other stuff you know This act of retrieval signals to your brain that the information is important, increasing the chances it sticks in your memory. Even though I knew this was so effective, I was still often skipping this part of reading to stare into that small, tantalizing screen. That led me to ask why. Why did I check my phone instead of summarizing? One reason, sadly, is that I’m addicted to my phone. Aren’t we all? There’s no getting around that, and it’s a worthwhile topic for another article. There was, however, also something else at play. Upon further reflection, I realized that when I’m tired I’m far more likely to skip summarizing for my phone. This suggests that it’s actually my perception of how much energy it will cost to reflect that keeps me from doing it. In my fugue state, my mind says “hey bud, summarizing these 20 pages on The Battle of Bull Run will be mentally taxing. Just skip it this time and look at the funny shit your friends sent you.” Maybe you’ve had the following experience. After reading a hard book for 30 minutes, your brain feels like it’s already done its hard work and deserves a reward. It doesn't want to make that final push. It’s like Civil War troops at the end of a 90-day enlistment. It wants to go home (is the phone our mind’s new home? I hope not) The cause being my lazy self, I needed to manipulate him better than he manipulates me. Specifically, I needed to reduce the perceived friction of the activity, to make post-reading reflection feel natural, to make it sound even enjoyable to lazy, grumpy Sam. I came up with two activities that help me do that. 2 activities I use to make post-reading reflection automatic Walking and showering. Simple as that. Sometimes I’ll put on some classical music or film scores (LOTR or Harry Potter), since this type of music gets me into a scholarly mood. I’ve found that if I put down my book and immediately head out the door or hop in the shower, I’m far more likely to do the 5 minutes of summarizing it takes to remember the content. 3 reasons these activities enforce post-reading reflection One reason walking and showering work well to induce reflection is simply that I like doing them. When my brain rebels and says “I don’t want to review what I read! I want to watch YouTube, you dictator!” all I have to say is, “but we’re going to go on a walk or take a shower, two things you love!”. Like a child, he thinks it over, smiles, and ultimately agrees. I also find that the external stimulation — movement or hot water — make me feel good, especially compared to how I feel hunched over my desk. And when I feel good, I’m far more likely to do the hard cognitive task of summarizing a chapter of Don Quixote. (of course, these are activities that make me happy — maybe for you it’s basketball, jump rope, or hanging upside down from a pull-up bar like a bat). On a similar note, in both cases you're standing up, and I don’t know about you, but my mind feels far more alert when standing than sitting. That extra dose of alertness helps me push past any lethargy holding me back from reviewing the material. A second reason these activities work well is that walking and showering aren’t phone-friendly. I mean that in a physical sense (water will damage the phone, you’ll trip and fall) but also psychologically. If I remain on my couch after a reading session, my subconscious mind tells me repeatedly to take out my phone, because it knows I often use my phone while sitting on the couch. My mind has associated phone use with that environment. Walking and showering, however, are activities you typically do without looking at your phone. Therefore, you don't have as strong an urge to pull it out. The third reason is that walking and showering are well-designed for deep thinking. There's a long tradition of thinkers and writers using walks to reflect and generate new ideas. Thoreau would walk hours every day. Dickens would traverse London at night. Adam Smith would pace around like a madman muttering to himself. As for showers, who knows how many great ideas have been produced in them. In my case, walking and showering are where I generally do most of my strategic and creative thinking. It’s in these moments that I reflect on my life, outline an article I want to write, or plan a tough conversation. If they’re good for creative thinking, they’re also good for reflection and memorizing. The Writer and Writing Teacher Barbara Ueland, Author of If You Want to Write, would take 5 mile walks every day, and at times use it to reflect on and learn poems she was reading, to make them a part of herself. Here’s her beautiful passage about this process: “Sometimes when I walk I learn a poem, a Shakespeare sonnet, say, as I go along. I have discovered this: if you say a line over and over again, as children do in memorizing, half mechanically, after a long time the nerves and muscles in your brain and jaws will know how to do it automatically. But all that automatic grinding takes a long, long time. To learn it more easily I do this: I say a line slowly, slowly, slowly, and I can see in my imagination each word and how it looks in print and in reality. If the word is "winds" I see winds. And in my imagination I trace and marvel at the wonderful economy of Shakespeare's grammar. And during these moments of contemplation, of imagination,-in that fraction of a second when my mind seems to open up and take something in forever, I find I walk less and less fast. I slow up. The more I am contemplating (i.e., thinking creatively so that the understanding is stretched) the slower I go and often I stop walking altogether for that moment-that creative instant of getting it, adding it unto myself forever.” — Barbara Ueland, If You Want to Write Often, this type of deep thinking isn’t even intentional. Your mind just sort of does it when you’re in the shower or on a walk around the block. I bet you could go out for a walk after a reading session and, without any prompting, your mind will automatically think the material over. After all, the content is fresh and nothing has taken the spotlight off of it — at least not until you see a cute dog. Make your own post-reading reflection protocol You finished 15 pages of a book. Great! Now resist the urge to check your phone, open your laptop, or do whatever your mind wants to do after a hard bout with the books. Instead, engage in some activity that requires little conscious thought and gets your body up and about — preferably something you enjoy doing. It could be going on a walk or taking a shower. But it might also be: Doing the dishes Mowing the lawn Kicking a soccer ball Riding a bike Whatever you choose, do it immediately after reading. This will be your forcing mechanism for reflection, review, and summarizing. It’ll help you remember more of what you read. Do it enough and you’ll be routinely amazing friends and peers with all you know. They’ll think “damn, didn’t know she was a history buff.” OR “Wow, who knew he was so well-read?” If you’re a writer, you’ll also find more of what you read seeping into what you write, which makes your writing more original and interesting — memory after all is ammo for anecdotes, metaphors, facts, stories, and cross-pollination of ideas. You don’t always have to use these techniques. Sometimes your brain will be in study mode and pumped to lecture an empty chair about Nietzsche’s idea of ressentiment. But when you’re feeling tired, it’s good to have these activities in your toolkit. Because, as much as we’d like it to be true, we can’t always be the diligent autodidact we aspire to be. Sometimes we need a protocol to nudge ourselves into the mood. Need a little nudge to read when you don’t feel like it? Check out my guide on 35 tactics that help me read 2 hours per day. There you’ll learn the 4 mental obstacles that typically stop people from reading and discover some ways to solve each one.