The precise difference between smart and not-so-smart
What makes one person exceedingly talented at something while others seem to flounder? You'd think it has to do with inborn talent. But what if you were talented and still didn't do well?
What would you say to an adult that says they're bad at maths?
Here's what you should do. Pull out a maths book from kindergarten and ask them to solve the maths problems. Then, progressively, and rather painfully, present them with maths problems from grade one going all the way up to high school.
Two things become apparent almost instantly
The first factor is speed. Children take between 8-10 whole years to learn how to solve maths problems. The adult, takes on the first five-seven years in a matter of minutes. No matter how complicated the maths problems felt as a child, they're remarkably easy as an adult. Maybe, just maybe, as we head into quadratic equations, there's a bit of a slow down. And yet, almost any adult can take on ten whole years of school maths in a 3-5 days, if not sooner.
Oops, they're not bad at maths after all, are they?
It's just that they struggled a lot in school, were then ostracised with red markers and disapproving teachers. They came to the solemn conclusion that they're bad at maths, yet do just fine as adults with the very same problems.
If you think it's slightly unfair to give school maths to an adult, you're right
It seems like a ridiculous exercise and yet, where did all those adults get the idea that they were hopeless at maths? Yes, it's was in school. It's just that someone forgot to tell them that they're suddenly pretty brilliant at maths, after all. But the speed of how quickly you can catch up is only one part of the picture.
The second part is the almost non-existent failure rate
In school, getting a 35% was a passing grade, 50% meant you had some hope, and 75% put you squarely in the distinction zone. A 100% result almost every single time would skew the statistics of the school so much that onlookers would think some hanky panky is in play. And yet, adults ace all of those years of maths problems. They giggle through grade one to grade 9, acing every test with utter disdain. School maths does get slightly complex in the final few years, but even under such "trying conditions", most of the adults would be able to easily fly over the 75% barrier.
As we pause to let our brains reset a bit, we realise we've been operating on a false assumption
Almost all of us have decided we're good or bad at something solely because of the grades we got in school. And it's this incredibly insane idea that stalks us for the rest of our lives. The reason why we're bad at maths in the first place, is not because we're stupid. Or that someone else is smart. It's just that couldn't figure out those numbers quite as easily as we do now.
Is it just age and experience that causes us to ace these tests so quickly and accurately?
Yes, maybe. But it's also that we now have a recipe. The recipe is exactly how it sounds. You follow a bunch of steps and you end up with breakfast. It's likely that none of us would have been able to pour milk and cereal together at the age of one or two. But give it time, and kids figure out how to balance objects and pour correctly. By the time you're an adult, you're checking your Instagram account while doing the cereal trick. What seems like a mundane task is really a bunch of steps that amounts to a recipe.
Give a ten year old a problem in maths and it's not unusual to experience struggle
However, give them several ways to solve the problem, and you see a completely different result. The kid understands the recipe, and turns out a series of correct answers. Buoyed by his/her success, he/she willingly takes on a greater challenge. With every iteration of the maths problem, they need a recipe until there are enough recipes to ace almost any test or exam. The problem with most training, is that many teachers are burdened with work, while willing parents are unable to see how to come up with a stream of recipes. The end point is almost always the same. The kid decides that they're bad or good at maths. The test that follows shortly after, confirms the fact. And then it becomes a life long curse, even though it's patently untrue.
The recipe isn't restricted to maths alone
Give an adult the simple task of producing anything more than a doodle, and they struggle. "I'm hopeless at drawing", they say aloud. "I can't even draw a straight line". Yet, in presentation after presentation, groups of complete strangers draw cartoons of an exceptional quality. The time taken to learn such a skill is under 7 minutes. Then, having learned how to draw one object or cartoon animal, they are able to draw a second, third and fourth with the same disdain as grade one maths.
It's obvious to all of us that we need a recipe
We buy into courses, not because we adore learning. If we were so besotted with learning we'd bludgeon our way through years of dead end practice. Instead, we look for steps, systems, or methods. When the recipe is precise and simple (yes, both) then we are able to move forward. If the recipe has enough how-not-to instead of just how-to, we are able to sidestep the problems in advance. Most of all, the recipe is important because once we get to the other side and do so with recurring impunity, we realise we're pretty good at picking up the skill.
"Open Sesame" is the key to Ali Baba's fortune
As the story in the Arabian Nights goes, Ali Baba, can't budge the rock in front of the cave. And within that cave lies a bounty of unimaginable treasure. No amount of strength or wiliness could get him the treasure he so desired. Yet, two words were the recipe to his success.
The recipe matters. We just have to find it ourselves. Or better still, find the teacher. And then it's "Open Sesame" for now, and forever.
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Oh, and if you want to know about me, me, me. I’m Sean D'Souza. Just another Kiwi who lives in middle Earth and enjoys the sweeping views of New Zealand. Oh, I’m a cartoonist too. And a writer, avid chef, but staying away from gardening and power tools. And um, I’d better stop. If you want to see some stuff, you can amble across to Psychotactics.com as well.
Recipes and great teachers certainly accelerate our learning. The hard part is letting go of those “I’m no good at math” thoughts that sone of us concluded from our struggles in school.