A proposal to better adapt nonfiction writing to human memory and attention
Let’s explain why it’s hard to learn from typical nonfiction writing, so that we can figure out how to potentially solve the problem.
Nonfiction writing is compressed. It tries to put across each piece of new information once. But you need repeated exposure, in new ways, to digest information.
Nonfiction writing is concentrated. It omits needless words, getting across its ideas in the minimum possible space.
Nonfiction writing is continuous. It goes on without a break. You can only hold 3-4 ideas in your working memory, but nonfiction writing does not respect this constraint.
Nonfiction writing is monotonous. It doesn’t leaven itself with humor, often eschews analogies, and is often abstract.
These four problems suggest a solution. Nonfiction writing should be redundant, dilute, interrupted, and polyphonous. Every time it introduces 1-2 new ideas, it should put them in the context of 1-2 ideas it has already discussed. It should intersperse new content with lighter material. If an article is teaching about telomere shortening, why not include a paragraph on the ethereally beautiful, 7-sexed Tetrahymena thermophila, in which Elizabeth Blackburn discovered the repeating TTAGGG sequence that makes up our telomeres?
Abstractions should be cut with classic style concrete imagery. Not everything needs to be visceral and visual, but a lot of it should be.
New ideas should be accompanied by the pleasant sensation of being reminded of material that you already know. This builds a feeling of growing mastery that is motivating to the reader.
A proposal to better adapt nonfiction writing to human memory and attention
Let’s explain why it’s hard to learn from typical nonfiction writing, so that we can figure out how to potentially solve the problem.
Nonfiction writing is compressed. It tries to put across each piece of new information once. But you need repeated exposure, in new ways, to digest information.
Nonfiction writing is concentrated. It omits needless words, getting across its ideas in the minimum possible space.
Nonfiction writing is continuous. It goes on without a break. You can only hold 3-4 ideas in your working memory, but nonfiction writing does not respect this constraint.
Nonfiction writing is monotonous. It doesn’t leaven itself with humor, often eschews analogies, and is often abstract.
These four problems suggest a solution. Nonfiction writing should be redundant, dilute, interrupted, and polyphonous. Every time it introduces 1-2 new ideas, it should put them in the context of 1-2 ideas it has already discussed. It should intersperse new content with lighter material. If an article is teaching about telomere shortening, why not include a paragraph on the ethereally beautiful, 7-sexed Tetrahymena thermophila, in which Elizabeth Blackburn discovered the repeating TTAGGG sequence that makes up our telomeres?
Abstractions should be cut with classic style concrete imagery. Not everything needs to be visceral and visual, but a lot of it should be.
New ideas should be accompanied by the pleasant sensation of being reminded of material that you already know. This builds a feeling of growing mastery that is motivating to the reader.