A common method of debugging is that of ‘rubber duck debugging’. The
claim here is that when you’re encountering a problem what you should do
is to simulate yourself explaining this problem to someone else—in this
case embodied by a rubber duck that’s sitting on your desk—and through
the act of explaining the problem you will be able to route around
impediments which you previously couldn’t.
I’ve never found the rubber duck experience to be particularly
helpful personally, but I think it’s pointing at an underlying
phenomenon that’s true: the act of talking with another person
materially changes your thinking in ways that bring clarity to the
problem under discussion. Thinking is an emotional process (how well are
you able to think when you’re undergoing relationship issues?), and
there’s something about the expectations you have and your model of
another person which materially changes the kind of thoughts you can
have.
I think here of how often friends have (or now, used to) mention that
during the act of writing out a question on StackOverflow they would
realise the error in their ways. I’ve experienced similar things. I have
not had the same experience talking with language models, nor have I had
the same experience writing to myself.
How does achievement differ between the arts and sciences? What are
some of the distinguishing characteristics about achievement in these
domains?
A helpful framing that I’ve been thinking about recently has been how
achievement in the arts is contingent. If Johann Sebastian Bach
didn’t create St. Matthew’s Passion, then it would not exist today. The
choruses and arias were depedent on Bach himself, the society and
environment that shaped and formed him, and that he shaped; and the
unfolding process of his creative refinement.
This process of discovery and refinement is different than, say, the
discovery of genes as the units of heredity. Where by the turn of the
20th century several scientists working independently had arrived at
similar results: Hugo DeVries, Erich von Tschermak, and Carl Correns. It
was only then that Gregor Mendel’s putterings were rediscovered. Whereas
in the arts achievement is contingent, in the sciences achievement is
necessary. The example here, of (1) simultaneous achievement, where
there’s parallel discovery, is not infrequent in the history of science;
and (2) where there are direct predecessors to a discovery, who are
working in the same linneage at weight to that necessity of
discovery.
There are analogies one could draw between artistic achievements
which rhyme: there are genres of work and groups of collaborators who
are working within some tradition, and building upon others work; this
is all true. However much this pushes the boundary of contingency, there
would not be parallel discovery of St. Matthew’s Passion.
This is an experiment in writing where the criteria is twofold:
frequency and quantity. I commit to publishing ≥100 words every day, for
30 days.
Now, this is actually much more difficult than I had anticipated, for
a few reasons. In my first two attempts at doing this I was remarkably
unsuccessful. In many others contexts it’s not difficult at all for me
to write 100 words. But, I struggled for an hour, twice, and was unable
to complete the task.
The primary challenges that I ran into was that I chose the wrong
topics, topics which I didn’t understand already to some extent, and
which required research; and I set the bar for publishing too high,
where what I’m saying needs to be unique in some sense, or push the
frontier foward. These were severe constraints on the writing
process.
I’ve found more success in the last two days, so let me lay out some
of the criteria as I now see them; these are subject to revision:
- I will not write about things which I don’t currently understand in
some capacity. What I mostly mean here are domains where I have no
familiarity, and where I’m a newcomer; this is not verdant territory to
write it.
- If I would like to write about some topic then I will have to do the
research and learning prior to the writing; it cannot be done on the
same day.
- I will not concern myself with perfect quoting, with ensuring to
cite my sources, that I’m linking to the appropriate places. This is an
area where I’ve had hangups in the past, and where a great deal of time
has been spent, largely unproductively.
- Now, that doesn’t mean that it’s acceptable to lift words from
others; this is still egregious behaviour. All writing here is to be
done by me, based on how I’m currently thinking about this particular
topic.
- This does mean that while it’s perfectly fine to use language models
for research, it’s wholly unacceptable to use them for writing.
- The standard I’ll hold myself to is, as John Gruber put his own
writing, performing in front of a live audience. There is a sense of
professionalism and propriety, of serious conduct—but not an
asphyxiating amount.
- Following point (2), I will do my best to extemporaneously mention
others’ work, if it forms the bulk of the foundation, but my primary
orientation is going to be the extemporaneous and impromptu.
- I will accept that the first hundred or so of these are going to be
low quality, and that what I ought to focus on is throughput,
consistency, and learning from previous attempts.
- I will feel no compunction in writing about the exact same topic
again. And again. Repetition is underrated.