I’m obsessed with self-improvement. I like to think of it as a more productive form of narcissism. I don’t spend much time staring into mirrors or having power fantasies, but I do spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about how I can be better. Be it the tools I use, the technology I pursue, exercise, or even recent forays into the world of meditation and mindfulness, I always try to have some “construction site” in my self that is making me better. To me, stagnation is the enemy.
Watching these changes occur in myself and slowly becoming the person I want to be is one of the most deeply gratifying experiences of my life. I see the benefits in myself, and can’t help but turn that introspective lens around. Perhaps the second most gratifying experiences in my life come from helping others in the same way I try to help myself. I love sharing knowledge. It’s how humanity progresses.
In this post, I want to share my experience with sharing knowledge, and encouraging others to develop skills that I think would improve their life. This is simply the most consistent approach I’ve derived from many failed and successful attempts.
The obvious question has probably already come up: what business do you have pushing your experiences onto others? If there’s one thing you take away from this post, it’s this: none. There are very few things more unwelcome than undesired help. The very first checkbox in getting people to be better is asking yourself whether or not this person could legitimately benefit from your help. Or, more practically, if they even give a shit.
Let’s take the text editor war as an example. If you’re like me, you probably started off using a good, but basic text editor like Sublime Text. I was productive enough, and didn’t see a need to change. Every time somebody would insist that Vim or Emacs were superior, my internal response would always be the same: go away. No degree of compassion or pedagogical skill would have steered me away from Sublime, because I didn’t care.
The most important factor in sharing improvement is being welcome. At the end of the day, their drive has to come from within. Pushing your practices onto others will never work. Instead, make non-threatening suggestions. Discuss your alternative way of doing things, and how it’s benefitted you. How did meditation help you? Why do you think the month-long Vim learning-curve is worth it? Don’t push an agenda; pique interest. If that doesn’t work, back off.
Eventually, I did undertake the head-bangingly arduous task of learning Vim. After watching a friend manipulate a Javascript file like a musician, I decided myself to welcome his advice and switch over.
My friend, who we’ll call “Alexa”, was a History major at my university. From when I first met her, I knew that she was smart, driven, and even technically minded. Being in Berkeley, she’s started to hear more and more about coding. People always say it’s worth learning, but she was never really sure how or why to approach it.
Once Alexa shared this with me, I realized I had legitimate knowledge to offer her. I talked to her about my experiences with programming, how it’s helped me, and how I think it could help her. No agenda pushing, no lesson plans, no technical talk. Pure interest piquing.
If you manage to succeed at this, you have to be careful. This is the most unstable period of the learning process. The most common approaches I’ve seen at this point are: (1) going on a huge rant about the subject and why it’s amazing and how you do it and how you learn it and why it’s amazing… (2) passing over a single webpage with a few paragraphs on the topic, then leaving the person in the dust, (3) saying your way is the best and telling them exactly what to do (“learn Python using Vol. 2.0.3.7 of Advanced Python for Air-traffic Controllers…”).
People love to learn. Getting people excited about learning is easy, but cultivating sustainable interest is a subtle and fragile exercise. There needs to be a easy entry point. (1) ignores this by overloading the person with information and immediately diffusing any interest via unintentional intimidation. Next, there needs to be a clear path. (2) ignores this by leaving them to fend for themselves, where they’ll likely lose interest and return their focus to something more familiar. Finally, there needs to be the freedom to explore a little, and personalize the learning experience. (3) ignores this by over-specifying, removing all possibility of creativity and breadth.
The question I always ask myself at this point is this: how did I learn? What was my entry point? If my entry point sucked, what do I wish it was? Your goal is to present a initial, detailed plan that should always leave them with the feeling of knowing what to do next. For Alexa, I suggested a series of Coursera classes on programming, followed by enrolling in some of the University’s introductory CS programs. That’s effectively how I started, after all.
Learning something new is like exploring a blackened cave without a light. Without guidance, trying to understand where you are at first is a daunting and hopeless task. You flail around in the dark, making little progress. The game plan you provide is like taking their hand and putting in on the cave wall, where they can follow it and begin to mentally etch out their surroundings.
Once that hand is on the wall, there is very little you need to or should do. Independence and self-discovery are the keys to learning. Holding onto them and making them feel out every nook and cranny of the cave as you know it will do nothing but confuse them. Guidance can be provided when it’s requested, and you may want to check in periodically and ask how things are going. Connect with them as a mentor, a resource, but don’t helicopter.
I’d see Alexa and ask her how the classes were going. Usually very well (they can teach her better than I can after all), but sometimes she would have a question that I would try to answer. No problem. She was feeling out the cave by herself, understanding what it looked like, and asking for help when she knew she needed it.
Watching your friends go through the path of learning you yourself went through is an awesome experience. Once they start to know their stuff, I try to do one last, somewhat counterintuitive thing: diminish my status as their mentor. The last thing you want to do is keep talking down to them as some absolute word of authority, putting them in a never-ending game of catch-up. Have equal-eyed discussions with them about the subject, besides being mutually beneficial and a ton of fun, helps to confirm their efforts. Of course you can still provide help, but do your best to validate as well.
Alexa decided to change her major to CS, and we still talk about technology and coding all the time. Her excitement about the subject is contagious, and I feel constantly invigorated by her newfound interest. Bringing people into your world is incredibly gratifying. Your experiences and techniques for living life are invaluable to others. Not sharing them is just inefficient; not to mention you get serious return on investment. You should give it a try, but do it right.
