How You Know

Despite having read Villehardouin's chronicle of the Fourth Crusade multiple times, I realize that my recollection of its contents is minimal. This observation extends to the hundreds of books on my shelves, raising the question: What is the value of reading if so little is remembered?

A revelation came while reading Constance Reid's biography of Hilbert, who emphasized the significance of properly framing a problem, stating that "a perfect formulation of a problem is already half its solution." This resonated with me, reinforcing my belief in the importance of this concept, a belief that persisted even as specific memories faded.

The key takeaway is that reading and experiences shape our understanding of the world, subtly influencing our mental models even when the details are forgotten. Our minds function like compiled programs whose source code is lost; they operate effectively, but the origins of that efficacy are obscure.

The true measure of what I've learned from Villehardouin's chronicle lies not in my ability to recall specifics but in how it has refined my mental models of the crusades, Venice, and medieval culture. This understanding extends beyond the realm of reading; as technology advances, it may enable us to revisit and learn from our past experiences in new ways, potentially editing and indexing them.

The discomfort of forgetting what we've read is mitigated by the realization that rereading important books can be valuable, as our brains compile information differently at various stages of our lives. This insight has transformed my view of rereading from a redundant task to an essential process of continual learning.

In conclusion, while the inability to trace the origins of our knowledge may seem inherently human, advancements in technology could challenge this notion, offering novel ways to engage with and learn from our experiences.

The original article: https://paulgraham.com/know.html