brenda michelson

thinking around corners

Main navigation

Comics & the Curse of Knowledge

By Leave a Comment

A few years ago, I came across Steven Pinker’s writing on the Curse of Knowledge:

The curse of knowledge is:

…a difficulty in imagining what it is like for someone else not to know something that you know.

Because:

The better you know something, the less you remember about how hard it was to learn.

Resulting in unsuccessful communication:

…The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation of why good people write bad prose. It simply doesn’t occur to the writer that her readers don’t know what she knows—that they haven’t mastered the argot of her guild, can’t divine the missing steps that seem too obvious to mention, have no way to visualize a scene that to her is as clear as day. And so the writer doesn’t bother to explain the jargon, or spell out the logic, or supply the necessary detail.

The cure:

The key is to assume that your readers are as intelligent and sophisticated as you are, but that they happen not to know something you know.

In other words, the communication burden needs to be placed on the knowledge holder, not the receiver.


Around the time I learned of the curse of knowledge, I read Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics, which is a comic book explaining the power of comic books, not in a superhero power way, but as a visual communication medium. (panel highlights are mine)

It’s also where my journey began, because I started to notice the use of comics to explain complex topics to the rest of us. Not infographics or one-pagers, but full books taking on topics across arts, humanities and STEM.

I was intrigued. I read books on topics both familiar and not. Each book taught me something on visual communication, storytelling/narrative and curse free explanation techniques.

As a plus, I learned a bunch on new topics in a fun, engaging manner.

I just finished Jessica Abel’s terrific Out On the Wire. Judging from the post-it decorated pages, I have a lot of thoughts on this one, which I’ll address in another post. (Intend to address, anyway)

And yes, I’m tinkering with comics/graphic narrative in my explainer work.

In the meantime, a sampling of my reading list:

Comics on comics (meta)

Storytelling

Philosophy

Statistics

Economics

Adaptations


Tech

Experts Sketch

By

I think best with a marker in my hand. Always have. My workspace, and all paths to and from it, are littered with box and line diagrams, doodles, code snippets, and my (at that moment) best idea ever, on any scrap of paper, notebook or whiteboard within reach.

Quirky, my friends think. But, I’m far from alone. Especially in the software field.

In the wonderful Software Design Decoded, 66 Ways Experts Think, an early section is Experts Sketch.

Experts Externalize Their Thoughts [24]

Experts sketch when they think. They sketch when alone. They sketch in meetings with colleagues or clients. They sketch when they have no apparent need to sketch. They sketch on paper, on whiteboards, on napkins, in the air. Experts know that sketching is a way to interact with their own thoughts, an opportunity to externalize, to examine, and advance what they have in their minds.

How do experts sketch? Messily, formally and in between. Pressing notation to their advantage, as a tool rather than constraint. Ever been in a room where the model’s notational correctness overtakes the problem (or solution) correctness? Consider these practices:

Experts Use Notations as Lenses, Rather Than Straightjackets [21]

Experts understand the true value of notations: they serve as lenses to examine a design solution from a particular perspective. Experts are not married to any notation and will use whichever notation best suits the task at hand…

Experts Invent Notations [28]

Experts choose a notation that suits the problem, even if the notation does not exist. New notations arise when, in the heat of design, shorthand symbols are used that take on a meaning of their own…

An insight that, frankly, was a relief to me: re-drawing is a good thing. Not all repetition falls under that insanity definition adage. Results can differ, for the better:

Experts Repeat Activities [44]

…Experts draw a diagram, then draw it again, and perhaps again and again. Experts repeat these activities because they know that, each time they do so, they must re-engage with a fresh mindset and re-explain to themselves or to others. Variations in how they engage, think, draw, and communicate, as well as variations in what they choose to focus on, uncover new issues and opportunities.

Regarding variation:

Experts Change Notation Deliberately [49]

Experts ask themselves what would happen if they remodeled what they have in a different notation, using somewhat different modeling concepts or somewhat different semantics. Differences in expression can prompt them to consider additional issues.

Beyond sketching, Software Design Decoded covers simplification, non-linearity, collaboration, uncertainty, fear and more.

If you are curious how your practices match with, or can be expanded to, expert levels, pick up this book.

And if you work with a manager that doesn’t get your seemingly random, casual, exploratory approach, drop a copy on their desk.

Lessons from Critical Making: Thingking

By

As technology and data increasingly pervade our everyday, technologists and teams are incorporating new practices, especially design thinking, as a means to deliver digital products, services and experience that fit. The person. The situation. The system.

Teams responsible for these new digital endeavors and transformations often model their practices on elite technology companies, fast moving startups, and digital pioneers. Perfectly logical way to build organizational capability.

But, for individual capability, it’s important to look wider, at practice origins and adjacencies.

An excellent resource is The Art of Critical Making: Rhode Island School of Design on Creative Practice.

I particularly enjoyed John Dunnigan’s essay on Thingking. From the opening:

Artists and designers are form givers who bring ideas into the material world. In the studio we think about things. We think around things and through things. Yes, you could say we are engaged in thingking. Thingking expresses the symbiotic relationship between making and thinking in art and design, between object and idea. It connects critical making and critical thinking and relies on embodied knowledge, practice and research. It integrates multiple ways of knowing and promotes holistic reflection and learning. Thingking is situated in contemporary and historical frames of reference. It includes the making of new artifacts that reflect the effects of the creative act on the maker, user and system.

Thingking also involves engagement as it takes into account the consequences of those processes, phenomena, and artifacts. The presentation and critique of one’s work is a key moment in the process of understanding what we really think. To stand beside an object that represents one’s effort and growth and to get feedback on that performance can be a profound experience. This is often the point at which we compare what we thought we were doing and what actually happened, what discoveries were made along the way and what new doors opened. Though these artifacts may be idiosyncratic, they all tend to be material expressions of the complex interdependent relationships among culture, technology and identity. We brought forth a thing and it shaped us as we shaped it. Thingking.

— John Dunnigan, Professor and Department Head, Furniture Design, RISD in The Art of Critical Making

Thingk about it.