Monday, September 19, 2011

Memory Present, Mind Absent

So . . . one of the more memorable books I read over the summer is "Moonwalking With Einstein," by Joshua Foer.  The book chronicles his travels through the world of competitive memory, from a reporter covering the National Memory Championships to his competition, the following year, in that same event.  And his accomplishment is quite impressive - I know that I balk at attempting it, and I believe I have a pretty good memory to begin with (one message from the book is that if you know the technique, anyone can do it; I'm not saying I disbelieve that, but the amount of work involved seems daunting).  But in the end, is his memory any better?  Depends on how you define memory.

I'm going to include a few spoilers in this post, at least one of which I do not feel bad about, because it is the first thing stated on the inside dust jacket of the book: he wins the U.S. memory championship.  This again underlines his improvement (though apparently American memory competitors pale in comparison to the Europeans).  But an even bigger underline is provided by an anecdote at the end of the book (again, spoiler!).  To celebrate his victory Foer goes out with friends to celebrate.  The evening ends, he walks home, goes inside, and at that point remembers that he drove his car to the celebration.  It is this story that highlights the difference between having a good memory and being a good memorizer.

I have a good memory, and it's the kind of memory where things just stick.  I find "active" learning or memorizing provides less bang for my buck; I'd rather watch a movie or The Simpsons and learn little tidbits from that (though they aren't always correct; I found out that contrary to what Homer's long-lost half-brother Herb told him, the manufacturing cost of a car is not $50 worth of steel and glass).  I am also phenomenally absent minded.  I'll work for twenty minutes on a grocery list and then forget it at home. I'll go to drop stuff at Goodwill, arrive, and peer into an empty trunk wondering why I thought I had put the donations in it. 

It isn't a matter of effort (I don't think); it's a matter of attention and cue.  I can remember that I have to go to the grocery and plan the trip, but in my hasty execution I forget one important detail (bringing the list) that scuttles the whole plan.  I know I have to hang pictures upstairs, but I never think about it when I'm downstairs (where the tools are), only when I am cued by the unhung pictures upstairs, at which point I'm not going to return to get the tools. 

The memory tested in the championships that Foer competed in are effortful, focused tasks.  Memorizing randomly shuffled decks of cards, strings of zeros and ones, names and faces.  Mnemonic tricks will work for that (and the book has plenty) but in the end they are, in my opinion, party tricks.  They won't help you remember the stuff you need to remember day-to-day.  If I memorized the grocery list I wouldn't have to remember to bring it, but why go to the effort to remember a couple of dozen items (the contents of the list) when I can remember one (to bring the list) instead?

The book also mentions that people in some professions, such as taxicab driving, have heightened memory skills for spatial concepts and maps.  This makes sense, and is useful, and if you can train them to remember that there is a clear point to it.  But it is also important to note that they likely remember the streets better through experience, not because they sat down with a map and memorized it. 

Now, I know I was supposed to mention something else, but I can't remember what it was.  Oh well.  I do remember that the book was a fun read and worth taking a look at.

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