Learning to learn

Charlie Munger, is one of the most famous personalities in the investment world today. He is much more than just a role model. He is an investment manager who has been yawping from the rooftops about the importance of importing ideas from other disciplines into our own discipline or profession.

But much has been said about the benefits of this tendency of interconnecting ideas or principles between disciplines. No one really talks about how to do it. I was really surprised by the lack of or the abundance of pretentious material which dealt with this topic. But nevertheless, I took it upon myself to understand which would be the most efficient way of learning to forge interdisciplinary understanding of things.

After reading about Munger and his approach, it became clearer to me why it was difficult to propagate a standard means to learn how to learn. It's easy to realize that everybody has a different learning pattern. It becomes exceedingly difficult to import someone else's chain of thought if that person isn't in sync with our pattern of thought. It may sound possible ideologically, but it's very difficult to implement practically. But in that case, each and every thought must be difficult to import. But that's not so. Logically it might seem that it's difficult to import thoughts from other people and implement in our own thought process, but intuitively we all thrive on the same hardware for cognition. Awareness can only be converted into actionable thoughts by going over the same concepts in different contexts.

In one of the Annual Shareholder Meetings of Wesco, where Charlie Munger is a Chairman; in his address to shareholders he mentions Alfred North Whitehead who said that "Civilization itself progressed rapidly in terms of GDP when mankind invented the method of invention". I think its a very beautiful thought to carry around. Despite of a ring of entitlement to the statement, it deserves every bit of merit in saying that if I think I can learn in a particular way, that process of learning itself must be imprinted upon the way I approach things. Once I am comfortable with a particular learning process I can very easily use it to learn whatever else I want to learn. Why wasn't this idea so obvious in the way I learned things as a kid? It's a shame I had to spend so much time till I finally came face to face with this thought.

Another thing I found very difficult to understand, but have finally realized it, is that 'extreme loyalty to an ideology or an identity destroys cognition. I can't be restrained by the power or irrefutable logic of some thought or an idea. If I am, then I have a serious handicap in considering any other thought which is not congruent with it. That means I have less opportunity to learn that I can be wrong and face the consequences of being wrong instead of being aware of it and avoiding it.

And finally, I am beginning to wonder why I enjoy refuting my own arguments sometimes when I can very easily stick with them for the rest of my life?

What's wrong with the world?

I always wanted to ask this question, to everyone I knew. As a kid I wasnt really aware of the gravity of what it meant, but it did mean something. It was like having a doubt that there's something stuck in my teeth, while I prod ceaselessly with my tongue, the entire dental length and breadth for the answer. 

I didnt have the tools to ask the question, neither to answer it. I cant claim to have them now either. But I have one small advantage over many. I can say calmly, that yes, there  'might' be something wrong with the world after all. 

Long ago, back in school I had heard of the idea called 'reinventing the wheel'. It probably meant that we shouldnt try to make things all over again which are already made. This is probably the premise of the patent and IPR laws, replicating an invention deserves no credit. This idea works phenomenally well with physical and tangible objects. Nobody will go and reinvent a spoon if a sudden desire to eat arose in a person. But will we go ahead and reinvent the way we live if one decided to live long enough and embrace circumstances?

I have some reason to believe, and this is my theory, that everything there is to know about the human condition, has already been written down. But unfortunately known only by a few. Misery, a concurrent theme in many people's lives (at least I have seen it in the form of insecurity), is long to be known as a serious waste of a precious resource, thought. What good is the human race if it shuns the idea of learning from the past? Where to find this epic body of knowledge which deals with these kind of issues?

I dont like to ask other people what have they learned from a book, or a film, or from an experience. Ok, perhaps I am not so lenient about the experience part, but I dont like to ask the former questions to them. Strictly because nobody knows until they come face to face with that same fact in some other way. Learning then is totally experiential (my theory again). Even learning from what somebody learned from their experience can give volumes of insight only if its described properly. 

So other people who can be a store-house of this knowledge of life (how the wheel was made, so to speak) are a very limited resource for such an experiment. Other resources I found was observing people and films. These two things go hand in hand since they offer a window into the life of someone else. These windows allow me to imagine me on the other side of that window and understand my own responses to those circumstances. Yet the films are not a really good resource, since they only go back a 100 years or so of human existence trying to cope up with something which is 10,000 years old. 

The most efficient resource I found then, were books. Probably books written way back even before my forefathers were born. I found a lot of insight about day to day life and questions about why we do what we do, to have been elaborately described in classics. The most beautiful thing about these classic texts is that they have a unique, dated way of explaining life.  They create that sort of imagery, which would sound ridiculous if not seen in context, which makes it even less appealing when read from an unobservant point of view. Great detail hides in these words, which lead to even more thoughts about more 'why's', more 'what's', more 'how's'.

I finally came to a point of asking myself the question, what's wrong with the world? I dont know, but I know only this that there is a total disregard of the ancient written word with people living nowadays. Not many really want to put themselves through the pains to understand how life had been lived and how todays questions of insecurity had already been solved eons ago. Whose job is it? Should we take it upon ourselves to learn these things or should some medium be present to propagate these ideas, once again.

I personally prefer the first option, taking it upon ourselves. There's nothing better than a realization that happened to me than to some other person. The amount of responsiveness I'd develop would not be matched by the latter. Another medium, I found so gladly lacking the adequate machinery ( a receptive mind ) is the schooling system. American military, perhaps had a saying, "Get'em young!" The same applies here. Any reasonably sound person will understand that a child's mind is the most receptive of all. If only they could open our Veda's and other ancient scriptures to the minds of these kids, we could save a lot of generations from the same old misery of the mundane.

I agree with what Thoreau had to say about this: 

"No wonder Alexander carried Iliad with him on his expeditions in a precious casket. A written word is the choicest of relics. Its something more intimate to us than any other work of art. Its the work of art nearest to life........The symbol of an ancient man's thought becomes a modern's man's speech."

What's wrong with the world then? - We're probably not paying enough attention.

Song for the moment: John Mayer - Waiting on the World to Change

Found it, have I?

I was stirred by a simple realization that, how do I cultivate myself in this vast variety of influences? Henry David Thoreau said, "Every man is the builder of a temple called his body".

Murakami's book on running rewired me (What I Talk About, When I Talk About Running). It recharged a part of my brain which was already aware of these thoughts but had somehow sidestepped it for a want of better clarity. I was trying to grapple things too quickly which was only resulting into disappointment in failing to grasp them completely. For want of a better understanding, I was standing in the shadow of giants in my field, trying to import small portions of their wisdom. They had been momentous in their achievements and complete in their own way, perhaps. Their achievements were an outcome of decades worth of incessant practice of their art. I thought, yes, work then becomes art when you tap your abstract to get the next insight. If not, what good is the brain if we are hoping for just mechanical outcomes? Even a machine can do that.

I have always believed that changes are hard to come by. It requires some special gene in us, which will help us to biologically embrace change, thats what I felt (sarcastically, of course). But I have incorporated some changes for good. I have started changing things in my lifestyle, which were holding me back from doing what was really necessary. One of the major changes I had started some 2 years back, was to quit watching TV. This has resulted into a lot of free time and also helped me seek quality entertainment options rather than watching some drab stuff. This made me realize that when I have free time suddenly pumped into the system, I don't know what to do with it exactly. So I started exploring and found my true calling.

One thing I had learned that evening, when I read pages 76-77 in Murakami's book, was a blinding flash of the obvious. This was something I had known and had believed in for a long time. He mentions about the three most important things for becoming a successful writer (success not by just being a best seller, but being a novelist). He latches onto; Talent, Focus and Endurance. Too many motivational books also describe these as some of the most important factors in becoming good at something, but there was a difference. He said that Talent is abstract, but focus and endurance are more definite. I wondered why this thought was so important out of all the things that I have personally understood. It dawned on me that focus and endurance were the most undervalued aspects of my activities. I appreciated focus and endurance, but I took them for granted as a part of my nature.

But in spite of all the talent, focus and endurance I might have, can I assure a favorable result? What would I get, if I got to know the result? Its like staring at a crystal ball, the ball's guess is as good as mine. I have been reading about the idea of process v/s outcome in almost all books on investing. How developing a process is more important than just having our eye's on the prize. I love this thought, it allows me a lot of freedom to squeeze out all I have, to test it against the logic of my actions & then sit back and watch how it works. Tinkering, Tinkering & more Tinkering.

Alone!

They laid on their backs, staring intently at the clear night sky hoping to witness ‘a’ stellar movement, any stellar movement. Of course they were 8 years old & wishing for the stars. But the innocence in their wish almost made the universe transpire that event.

Remo had just finished reading a sci-fi story about how humans meet with aliens after a long, deliberate struggle to find if there is life in the universe. The story captured the essence of mankind’s dream to find the answer to that question, ‘Are we alone?’ He had also enjoyed the story of Carl Sagan’s Contact, which his dad read to him, about an astronomer who decodes an alien signal & also gets to go on a journey to meet with them. This sort of imagery always fascinated him. He couldn’t fathom the fact that this sort of thing isn’t already happening. After all the advancement he knew & read about, it seemed so odd that there hasn’t been any contact with any extraterrestrial species yet. He had almost started to believe that the enormity of space is wasted if there is no one else to share it with.

Dex had heard his friend out, patiently, all the while when he had voiced his concerns about ‘we’ being alone in the universe & had shown a slight distaste for Remo’s penchant for desperately trying to find some other species out there. He had never given a second thought to it, although he was extremely curious himself to figure how the answer would turn out to be. He even scribbled pictures of alien encounters & drew large bug sized creatures communicating with the humans. He had an elaborate idea for a comic strip, but not enough punch to believe in it himself.

Dex was one of those odd little 8 year olds who knew that there was something wrong with the equation. Something didn’t make sense. He had been learning in school about the history of the world, the animal kingdom & how animals have been living with the humans since millions of years & so on. All this seemed very peculiar to his mind. He always believed it to be very obvious that when humans meet another species from outer space, it would be the same like meeting a totally new species of animals or plants or other humans out here on Earth. What would we do when we finally meet them?

Hollywood had too many scary answers & he spun out all the DVD’s to find a sensible solution. None emerged. Not equipped to understand the human condition, he was thinking purely from the world eye view of a novice, juvenile, yet dangerously curious observer. Almost with a scientist’s skepticism for the mystical, he realized that why would someone want to travel all the way, spending so much effort just to see if there’s anybody else out there? Isn’t it peculiar that the transit must pay for itself?

Remo objected, “What fuel are you using?”

Dex was caught by surprise. He hadn’t thought about it. If it’s cheap enough to make the trip, the answer becomes worth knowing. But Dex went to a different line of thought.

“Hey Rim! Do you think we are alone for a reason?”

“What!!!?” Remo jumped back, almost sitting upright on this ridiculous remark.

“No, no listen!” exclaimed Dex.

He asked Remo to be patient, his eyes oozed of grave doubt & uncertainty over his logic, yet he showed a different determination on his face. Remo sensed a whopper coming. Dex was never this serious, unless he had a really good argument, he knew from experience.

“Look at it this way, Miss D from our school, you know; she lives alone, ok?” asked Dex.

Remo nodded in silence, waiting for the punch-line.

“I heard when she was talking to my mom one day that, she thinks she’s going to be alone for the rest of her life”, said Dex.

Remo was still waiting.

“But you see Rim, she has so many people around her, which she seems to not notice”, Dex was really concerned.

“She thinks she is alone, because she wants to believe it.” Remo finally moved some cheek muscles, but with enormous effort, “But what do you mean? Why we are alone in the universe has nothing to do with why Miss D thinks she is alone.”

Dex grinned. “Yes there is.”

Dex jumped back after an extra second’s pause.

“We are so used to finding ourselves alone ever since we are looking at the stars, so like Miss D, we might have gotten to believe that there is no one out there. Maybe our need to find someone isn’t great enough to actually go & find someone.”

Remo gave a hearty laugh. “What about all the space missions?” asked Remo.

“What fuel are you using?” Dex asked with smug delight.

“Ok, I get you. You think to find something quicker we need to use different means to find it, not the same one’s which match our needs here on Earth?” Remo crystallized it.

“Yuuuppp!” Dex pursed his lips, but not with the final word.

“You know what worries me Rim, I think we might be living in an illusion of being alone.” Dex came back with another one.

“Ok, What?” Remo had his smug moment now.

“I think we have been found already, we just don’t know it yet, since no one has made any announcements to us through the media that we use”, Dex did have a point.

“You mean we have already got what we want to know, we just don’t know how to read it?” Remo was back with one of his clarifying tones.

“Yuuppp!”

“Wow! I’d have never thought of this”, Remo frowned with a tinge of curiosity.

“But Dex!!!” Remo called back in a hurry, this time he actually got up.“But, if, we have already been found, then what do you think are those species thinking about us? I mean, we have such old technology which clearly can’t even know that they are talking to us, what would they think of us?” A small ball of sweat rolled off Remo’s brow.

“Slaves?” Dex came back with the most obvious HOLLYWOOD solution to Remo’s ingenious question.

“What!!” Remo was furious. “I won’t be a slave to some slimy creature just because he can travel all the way to my home planet. I don't want to be no slave to a Columbus.”

A lightning bolt struck in Dex’s tiny brain. “That’s what we would have done.”

Remo booed off the idea, “No way! No way at all. We would be much nicer to them & we would learn their technology, their culture, their lifestyle, everything about them. We would never make them our slaves. Never ever.”

After a dramatic pause, Dex came into the spotlight of the argument. “Even when we know that they would be defenseless to our technology, we would still want them to be our friends or worse; would we still treat them with respect?”

“Yes! Why not! They are surviving the same harsh space as we are, they deserve the same credit of free existence as we do”, Remo raged forward again. He almost resembled his dad.

Dex frowned now, “look at most of the species here Rim, look at them real hard. Who do you think is their boss?”

“Mother Nature ofcourse” came back Remo.

“I wish it was that easy. We read about the Aztecs right? What happened to them? Some conquistador came in & destroyed their culture, they had primitive technology & they refused to give in.” Dex recounted history. “Look at all the animals; we use most of them as our food, as our slaves, as our pets, just because they can’t revolt.”

“But they can revolt” Remo had a point. “Why? Do you think animals are dumb?”

“No Rim” Dex reasoned, “I think some of them like the idea of ‘life’ instead of a ‘struggling life’. They get food, place to live.”

A tiny glimmer of insight was being forged in the fires of Dex’s mind. He was finally coming face to face with the human condition, thinking beyond his ability to pursue such a thought. He was, as we know it, at the brink of a moral, philosophical revelation. This was Dex’s stellar movement. The universe has ears which listen farther than we can imagine they could listen.

Their hearts pounded in their ribs. They thought about everything in one second. All life on Earth would be a meaningless existence if it would be found by any other species, before we find some other species. All those years spent in research to find something more, something better, this ever evolving technology would vaporize in a puff of slavery, as we are ill-equipped for an inter stellar struggle for our freedom. What fuel would we use?

Man’s penchant for tinkering renders it impossible for him to stay put & always throws him at crossroads of an explorative journey, just to know what else he might find out there. Are we using it right?