Welcome to proper admin, my monthly...
Gotcha.
For perhaps the first time in blog history (not the history of all blogs, just this one) I am going to follow through and actually do something I said I would do. (You should do what you say you will, I always say.)
This month, I am going to skip doing a 'proper' proper admin. Next month, I'll just roll two months worth of admin into one month. After that, I will not acknowledge that I 'skipped' anything (since doing these monthly will no longer be part of the process).
I'll continue to do the reading review each month. The once a month pace seems about right. There is a logic to posting it sometime around the middle of the month so keep an eye open for that in a couple of weeks.
While I am here rattling on and on, though, I might as well cover some more admin details. I am going to hold steady on the Monday-Friday-Wednesday schedule. Three posts every two weeks gives me time to write ahead a little bit while also leaving room to slap together a post for those days where I have NOTHING to say.
I established a minor tradition around these parts of disrupting the standard blog schedule to post directly on holidays. There will be no post next Monday. You figure it out.
One thing I am going to get away from is endnotes. Not to be confused with footnotes, of course- endnotes out, footnotes in. The endnotes were useful at a time because they created a space for longer length tangents to fit into the blog. I'm going to try it a little differently starting this month by turning these tangents into their own posts. I'll link it back to the original by calling them 'leftovers', something I did back in March, but it will be a little different from how I did it back in the late winter (!).
Finally, I hit the 'pause' button over on The Business Bro. The stop is indefinite, for now, but I have a ton of ideas and I'll likely start writing for it again before the end of October. My thought for that blog is to post in blocks of six or seven, one per week, and go on sabbatical again while I accumulate the next block of posts.
Today's post is going to introduce some basic thinking I use for creating measurement metrics. I'll apply the ideas through a closer examination of my reading process.
Thanks as always for reading. We'll be back on Wednesday.
Tim
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Up through the end of September, I've completed ninety-eight books in 2016. That is the highest total through nine months since I started tracking this in 2011. Though I would like to boast that this figure reflects my unmatched excellence as a reader, I recognize that it actually demonstrates the impact of an inflated January tally (seventeen books), an above-average reading period during the early weeks of unemployment (it was cold out- late winter!), and a general trend toward reading shorter books (I'm lazy). (1)
There is no doubt something fun about knowing that I read one hundred books- it just sounds important. The century mark and triple digits and round numbers and all that jazz. But it is an entirely arbitrary figure, meaningless in the context of what I would consider relevant when I think about why I feel reading books is non-negotiable for me.
So, what does it mean when I count the books I've read? Is there a 'right number' of books to read? How would a metric that tracked my reading in general incorporate the total count of books as part of a broader measurement of relevance?
The challenge of any metric is to measure without distracting from the core purpose. Too much distraction may cause behavior changes designed to boost the health of the metric at the cost of misalignment with the purpose.
To do this properly, there are two basic requirements. First, the measurement must align to what you want to know. Second, you must understand the context in order to properly interpret the measurement.
In the case of my reading, simply counting books is not a direct alignment to the purpose of learning more about the world. It is close- I'll learn more if I read than if I don't. Broadly speaking, I learn more in years when I read a lot than in years when I read a little.
But a basic count does not measure learning. Instead, it measures something closely related (in economics class, we used to call these approximations 'proxy variables').
Finding context here is a little simpler. One surefire way to know I learned from a book comes when I apply a concept or idea from it. Though I do occasionally apply concepts immediately, the more frequent case is that I must wait. In some cases, I wait months or years.
To keep the knowledge fresh over potentially lengthy periods of dormancy, I've developed the habit of summarizing through some form of writing. Up until this year, that writing involved only note-taking. In 2016, it evolved to include writing in the shape of this blog.
Once I consider the extra step of writing about a book, I get a slightly clearer picture of what 'the right number' for reading might be. For now, my guess is that this is one book read and written about per week. From recent experience, I know this allows enough time for coherent writing without rushing the reading process.
I'm no math whiz but I approximate that a rate of one book per week equals about fifty-two books per year. Mix in a few other nonsense books and I would land somewhere between sixty and seventy annually.
That range contains a ring of truth to it because I've felt very good about my reading and writing over the past two months. A closer look shows that I've finished twelve books during that period. This reading pace extrapolated over a year comes out to seventy-two books annually.
So, the second part of the metric is fairly well defined- I'm looking for about sixty-five to seventy books per year with the idea that I'll write notes or a blog post about once per week. The books I read tend to max out at around three hundred pages so I might need to make adjustments if I pick up something with a much higher page count. But that is the basic rule of thumb I'll use for now.
Let's go back to that flaw with tracking just books completed. To phrase it as a question- 'Is reading the only thing I need to measure to account for learning?'
Put another way, is there a good reason to continue focusing on reading over other potential learning mediums? My conviction at this moment is that there is. Working on this blog over the past few months has reinforced the idea that writing requires a discipline in clear thinking that other forms of expression lack. So, though I find talks, speeches, lectures, and podcasts useful in many ways, the lower baseline of rigor involved in these mediums often makes the effort to learn from them not worth my time. (2)
The best supporting example for this idea is seen in how much longer great books endure in comparison to works from these other mediums. A book written tomorrow may not reach a reader until many years from its publication. The oldest book I've read this year was written two thousand years ago (approximately- I'm no math whiz). Such time lags differentiate books from the kind of writing that becomes obsolete a week after its writing. (3)
Generally speaking, good books are written to last. I've found over the years that the ones which do end up lasting are those based on the truth. Books based on facts can become obsolete if the facts at its foundation change. Just ask any best-selling gravity expert before Newton. Nothing can be learned from facts beyond the facts. The capacity to learn from the truth is infinite. (4)
Many observers, myself included, thought I would read a lot more when I lost my job at the end of January. This prediction appeared correct in the early weeks. Reading is always a highly productive way to spend time. I tend to be the productive sort. I had a lot of time. Ninety-eight books I've read this year, for those just joining us...
Right around the same time, I also started writing this blog. It's taken up a lot more time than anyone predicted (actually, I'm not sure if anyone made any predictions, myself included). I felt a vague notion that I should continue to work on my writing while unemployed. But I harbored no illusions about the 'productive' power of True On Average. And by all conventional measures, it's been very unproductive (its been unproductive by all unconventional measures, as well). (5)
The only significant impact has been on my clarity in thought. When I consider 'problems' like 'how much should I read', I find myself much more comfortable with my process than I have been in the past. Whatever my conclusion, I tend to leave the problem behind and don't worry about the options I chose to pass on as I used to.
It parallels my experience with note-taking. Once I started doing this as I read, I found myself less concerned with what I learned from a given book. I trusted the process. Though things could easily be missed, there was always plenty of valuable insight to lean on. In the same way that note-taking allowed me to learn from my reading experiences, writing about things here has allowed me to learn from my life experiences.
The more I attempt to process and order my own experiences, the more I've found I am able to learn and grow from the experience. It's been true for most of my life (though I did not really recognize that until this year). This blog brings a balance to what I used to do only through book reading. What I may have ignored in the past or dismissed as irrelevant now becomes something I consider seriously as a topic for a post.
I started with the idea that there was a metric out there to measure what I am learning. I took a first swing at it in 2011 and started tallying books. Over time, the question of whether there exists a 'right' number of books to read came up.
When things are hard to measure directly, the solution is not to look for a good 'proxy measure' that approximates what you want to know. Rare is the case where the simple three-step solution is actually simple (or contains three steps) though many do insist on such approaches.
An alternate approach is to understand the context the best you can and try to recognize the cause when things change. I would even call this 'the better approach' but I honestly do not think it is possible to know such a thing.
In the specific case of my learning, the process of writing is the key. It forces me to apply a clarity of thought that I do not otherwise attempt. This is important because without clear thinking my ability to process and order what I experience is restricted.
As it relates to my reading, this might mean scaling back as I have done in the past two months. It is almost a radical shift in thought (to the extent that a reading process can be described as 'radical') given how well-perceived reading is in our society and how much I've leaned on it over the past few years as a source of self-education. (6)
But it feels like the right approach. I either learn or I do not learn. Writing seems to be the key step. So if I'm not finding the time to write at least once a week, it means I need to adjust how I approach time consuming activities like reading.
I guess this answer is a little counter-intuitive to the stated premise- 'what is the right amount to read'. But that is how these things work, sometimes. If there is no clear answer to a given question and no good way to measure it directly, you need to work a little harder to understand the context surrounding the metric. It is why good metrics always seem to come in pairs- one to answer the question of 'how much' and the other to answer the question of 'is it relevant'.
So, for now, I guess I'll just stumble along with this uncertain conclusion. If you know any books that were written to last, let me know. If I end up reading it, I might end up posting about it! Who could turn that down...
In the meantime, I will continue to casually mention that I read about a hundred books or so a year. It's an irrelevant statistic, sure, but nothing wrong with a little pointless fun every now and then.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Almost at one hundred...
At the time of writing, I've completed one additional book in October- so the year to date tally is ninety-nine. 99! I suppose this begs (well...) the question of what book #100 will be for the year.
Barring any surprise developments, it will be one of the two books I am currently reading. Drown by Junot Diaz is a short story collection and Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry by Jane Hirschfield is an essay collection about poetry. My bet is on the former but I suppose we'll have to wait and see.
Here are the rest of the numbers from my most recent crunching:
2016 end of September: 98 total books
2015 end of September: 77 (finished at 101)
2014 end of September: 77 (finished at 100)
2013 end of September: 56 (finished at 68)
2012 end of September: 64 (finished at 85)
2011 end of September: 57 (finished at 75)
2. You know what I mean?
This position is a little harsh. But I think there is a big difference between following someone's clearly worked out line of thinking in a written work and simply listening to someone conclude a less organized point with a phrase like 'you know what I mean'...
There is nothing inherently wrong with that kind of approach. Personally, I think working things out like that is a massive part of the learning process. But I prefer involvement in that area as an active participant rather than a passive observer. One thing this means is having conversations with friends. I'm fine applying different standards to anyone I'm taking the time to absorb through a more structured medium.
A good explanation for why writing needs more discipline is the lack of support from other manners of expression. That is, a writer is only able to influence with words. A speaker uses body movement, tone inflections, VOLUME CHANGES, and a whole host of other techniques to supplement the selected words. Even someone communicating in a 'voice-only' format such as a radio brings their unique presence through their voice.
A writer gets
I imagine this is considered the biggest difference between prose and poetry (at least in terms of what someone of my limited understanding can grasp). Prose does have 'white space' but it serves no purpose. I imagine writers allow decisions regarding the allocation of such space to rest with the publisher.
Poetry takes advantages of spacing to get back a little bit of the advantage that writers cede to speakers. In the gaps, pauses, and breaks, the poet is bringing an idea or feeling forward in the way a wildly gesticulating conversation partner is doing (in their own special way, of course. You know what I mean?).
3. The foundation for good writing is truth
My preference for writing, I suppose, could be summarized with an analogy. Good writing should be constructed like a sturdy house. Though the house could be built anywhere, it is ultimately built where the foundation is established. The strongest foundation is based on truth. What is true cannot be shaken by the chance events of daily life.
Lesser writing is constructed like a camping tent. This type of 'home' can be pitched anywhere because it requires no foundation. The environment suggests where the tent could go but people might still differ in their final conclusion. The chance events of daily life shake the tent and merit reconsideration of its position.
4. The naysayers are saying nay...
I guess I should address blogging. I can hear the whispers already- what about blogs, wise guy? You write a blog. Shouldn't you read blogs? Why should we read this blog if you won't read blogs? Is this blog 'built to last'? It seems more like a tent, or perhaps even a lean-to...
Those are all excellent (fake) arguments. I think there is a place for any kind of writing. Not all books are written with the enduring quality I seek in my reading. And the inverse does apply for everything else, including blogs.
I think the idea here is less to criticize or diminish other sources of learning. The points here all lead up to a conclusion- I know books are most fruitful for me as a learning source. My current suspicion is that it is best to focus on taking in as much from that source of learning as I can.
5. The future of this blog...
My bet on the best approach in terms of writing this blog is to continue trying to write things that I would read if someone else wrote them. It seems like a decent rule of thumb. For one, I proofread these things (believe it or not) so it is important that I write something that does not cause me to fall asleep while reading it.
6.But a potato is a vegetable, so that isn't so bad, really...
It is a little crazy to consider how revered reading is. From my own experience growing up, my peers (some children) were ridiculed/insulted/'actively parented' for sitting too long in front of things like the TV. On the other hand, my peers (other children) were praised/complimented/'passively parented' for sitting too long in front of things like five paragraph essays.
Though both activities involved groups engaging in the exact same physical (non) movement, only one group was called names like 'couch potatoes'. If the kids in question were overweight, I do not recall anyone advising that they stop sitting around for six hours a day at school or stop wasting time doing things like memorizing the periodic table or reading Goosebumps.
