Saturday, May 9, 2026

Expertise in kind vs wicked environments

Excerpt: 

There are two kinds of environments in which humans develop expertise. Psychologists call them kind and wicked. A kind environment has clear rules, immediate feedback, and patterns that repeat reliably....

A wicked environment is the opposite. Feedback is delayed or misleading. Rules shift. The patterns that worked yesterday may be exactly the wrong patterns to apply tomorrow. Most of the real world looks like this. Medicine is wicked. Investing is wicked. Building a company is wicked. Scientific research is wicked. Almost every job that involves a complex changing system with humans in it is wicked.



A Hungarian psychologist raised three daughters to prove that any child could become a chess grandmaster through early specialization. He succeeded. Two of them became grandmasters. One became the greatest female chess player who ever lived. Then a sports scientist looked at the data and found something nobody wanted to hear. His name is David Epstein. The book is called "Range."


https://davidepstein.com/range/ The Polgar experiment is one of the most famous case studies in the history of deliberate practice. Laszlo Polgar wrote a book before his daughters were even born arguing that geniuses are made, not born. He homeschooled all three girls in chess from age four. By their teens, Susan, Sofia, and Judit were dominating tournaments against grown men. Judit became the youngest grandmaster in history at the time, breaking Bobby Fischer's record. The story became the gospel of early specialization. Pick a domain young, drill it hard, and you can manufacture excellence. Epstein opens his book by telling that story honestly and then quietly demolishing the conclusion most people drew from it. Chess works that way. Most things do not. Here is the distinction that took him four years of research to articulate, and that almost nobody who quotes the 10,000 hour rule has ever read. There are two kinds of environments in which humans develop expertise. Psychologists call them kind and wicked. A kind environment has clear rules, immediate feedback, and patterns that repeat reliably. Chess is the cleanest example. Every game ends with a winner and a loser. Every move is recorded. The board never changes shape. The pieces never invent new ways to move. A child who plays ten thousand games will see most of the patterns that exist in the game, and pattern recognition is exactly what chess mastery is built on. A wicked environment is the opposite. Feedback is delayed or misleading. Rules shift. The patterns that worked yesterday may be exactly the wrong patterns to apply tomorrow. Most of the real world looks like this. Medicine is wicked. Investing is wicked. Building a company is wicked. Scientific research is wicked. Almost every job that involves a complex changing system with humans in it is wicked. The Polgar sisters trained in the kindest environment any human can train in. Their success was real and the method was correct. The mistake was generalizing the method to fields where the underlying structure of the environment is completely different. Epstein's research is what made the implication impossible to ignore. He looked at the careers of elite athletes outside of chess and golf and found that the pattern was almost the inverse of what people assumed. The athletes who reached the very top of their sports were overwhelmingly people who had played multiple sports as children, specialized late, and often switched disciplines well into their teens. Roger Federer played squash, badminton, basketball, handball, tennis, table tennis, and soccer before tennis became his focus. The kids who specialized in tennis at age six and trained year-round for a decade mostly burned out, got injured, or topped out at lower levels of the sport. The same pattern showed up everywhere he looked outside of kind environments. Inventors with the most patents had worked in multiple unrelated fields before their breakthrough work. Comic book creators with the longest careers had drawn for the most different genres before settling. Scientists who won Nobel Prizes were dramatically more likely than their peers to be serious amateur musicians, painters, sculptors, or writers. The skill that mattered in wicked environments was not depth in one pattern. It was the ability to recognize when a pattern from one domain applied unexpectedly in another. That kind of thinking cannot be built by drilling a single subject. It can only be built by accumulating mental models from many subjects and learning to move between them. The deeper finding is the one that should change how you think about your own career. Specialists in wicked environments often get worse with experience, not better. Epstein cites studies of doctors, financial analysts, intelligence officers, and forecasters showing that years of experience in a narrow domain frequently produce more confident judgments without producing more accurate ones. The expert builds elaborate mental models that feel comprehensive and turn out to be increasingly disconnected from the actual structure of the problem. They stop noticing what does not fit their framework. They mistake fluency for understanding. Generalists do better in wicked domains for a reason that sounds almost mystical until you understand the mechanism. They have less invested in any single mental model, so they abandon broken models faster. They are used to being a beginner, so they are not threatened by the discomfort of not knowing. They have seen enough different domains that they can usually find an analogy from one field that unlocks a problem in another. The technical name for this is analogical thinking, and the research on it is one of the most underrated bodies of work in cognitive science. The single most useful sentence in the entire book is the one Epstein puts almost as a throwaway. Match quality matters more than head start. A person who tries six different fields in their twenties and finds the one that genuinely fits them will outperform a person who picked one field at fourteen and stuck to it on willpower alone. The lost years were not lost. They were the search process that produced the match. Every field they walked away from taught them something they later imported into the field they finally chose. The reason this is so hard to accept is cultural, not empirical. We tell children to pick a path early. We reward the prodigy who knew at six. We treat the late bloomer as someone who failed to launch on time, when the data suggests they were running an entirely different and often more effective optimization process underneath. The Polgar sisters were not wrong. The conclusion the world drew from them was. If your environment is genuinely kind, specialize early and drill hard. If it is wicked, and almost every interesting human problem is, then the people who win are the ones who refused to specialize until they had seen enough to know what was actually worth specializing in. You are not behind. You were running the right experiment all along.

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ABOUT THE BOOK

What's the most effective path to success in any domain? It's not what you think.

Plenty of experts argue that anyone who wants to develop a skill, play an instrument, or lead their field should start early, focus intensely, and rack up as many hours of deliberate practice as possible. If you dabble or delay, you’ll never catch up to the people who got a head start. But a closer look at research on the world’s top performers, from professional athletes to Nobel laureates, shows that early specialization is the exception, not the rule.

David Epstein examined the world’s most successful athletes, artists, musicians, inventors, forecasters and scientists. He discovered that in most fields—especially those that are complex and unpredictable—generalists, not specialists, are primed to excel. Generalists often find their path late, and they juggle many interests rather than focusing on one. They’re also more creative, more agile, and able to make connections their more specialized peers can’t see.

Provocative, rigorous, and engrossing, Range makes a compelling case for actively cultivating inefficiency. Failing a test is the best way to learn. Frequent quitters end up with the most fulfilling careers. The most impactful inventors cross domains rather than deepening their knowledge in a single area. As experts silo themselves further while computers master more of the skills once reserved for highly focused humans, people who think broadly and embrace diverse experiences and perspectives will increasingly thrive.


Wednesday, April 22, 2026

Facts are optional?

 

Thomas Sowell: "We're raising whole generations who regard facts as optional. They are being taught that it's important to have views, they are not being taught that it's important to know what you are talking about."


Tuesday, April 21, 2026

Creating things for health

 

Translated from Spanish
I don’t mean to exaggerate, but art is going to save your life. Music, painting, ceramics, writing, carving, weaving… the act of CREATING is going to save you.


The Spanish tweet sounded like hyperbole. 40 years of peer-reviewed data says it's roughly right.

In 1986, a Texas psychologist told 46 students to write about the worst thing that ever happened to them, 15 minutes a day for 4 days straight. Over the next 6 months, those students went to the doctor half as often as the kids in the control group. The psychologist was James Pennebaker. He repeated the experiment, and so did other labs. Same answer every time: writing about pain in a notebook was changing something inside the body. Follow-up studies found improved immune cell counts, faster wound healing after surgery, lower HIV virus levels in blood tests, and better lung function in people with asthma. For years the mechanism was a puzzle. Pennebaker had stumbled onto a much bigger pattern than he realized. Making things of any kind does something to the body. Take painting. A 2016 study at Drexel University handed 39 random adults some markers, clay, and collage paper and told them to make whatever they wanted for 45 minutes. No rules, no skill required. 75% of them walked out with lower cortisol (the main stress hormone) in their saliva. Beginners and experienced artists got the same drop. Take dancing. Doctors at Einstein College of Medicine tracked 469 seniors over a 21-year period in a study published in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2003. People who danced a few times a week were 76% less likely to get dementia than people who rarely did. That was the largest protective effect of anything they tested. Crosswords came in at 47%, reading at 35%. Swimming and cycling did nothing for the brain at all. Take singing. In 2004, researchers in Germany measured antibodies in a choir's saliva before and after rehearsal. The antibody count (the stuff that fights off colds and flu) rose significantly. A follow-up study on cancer patients and their caregivers found that one hour of group singing dropped cortisol and switched on their immune systems at a measurable, blood-test level. And just going to see art helps. University College London tracked 6,710 British adults over age 50 for 14 years. People who went to the theatre, a museum, or a concert every few months were 31% less likely to die during that window. Even going once or twice a year dropped the risk by 14%. Wealth, education, and starting health were all accounted for. The mechanism seems to live in a brain circuit called the default mode network, the part that wanders when you daydream. When you fall into the zone of making something, that network hooks up with the one that holds your attention, and the brain's stress system quiets down. Cortisol falls, dopamine climbs, and the slow-burn inflammation that eventually kills most of us calms down too. None of it depends on the quality of what you make.

Here are the citations for the studies referenced: - Pennebaker 1986 writing study (46 students, trauma essays, fewer doctor visits): Pennebaker, J.W., & Beall, S.K. (1986). *Journal of Abnormal Psychology*, 95(3), 274–281. DOI: 10.1037/0021-843X.95.3.274. Later work showed immune benefits (e.g., 1988 follow-ups). - Drexel 2016 art-making/cortisol (39 adults, 45 min): Kaimal, G., Ray, K., & Muniz, J. (2016). *Art Therapy*, 33(2), 74–80. DOI: 10.1080/07421656.2016.1166832. - 2003 dancing/dementia (469 seniors): Verghese, J., et al. (2003). *New England Journal of Medicine*, 348, 2508–2516. DOI: 10.1056/NEJMoa022252. - 2004 Germany choir singing (antibodies): Kreutz, G., et al. (2004). *Journal of Behavioral Medicine*, 27(6), 623–635. DOI: 10.1007/s10865-004-0006-9. - UCL arts engagement/mortality (6,710 adults, 14 yrs): Fancourt, D., et al. (2019). *BMJ*. DOI: 10.1136/bmj.l8047 (full 14-yr ELSA analysis). All verified via primary sources.

the pennebaker finding that replicates most reliably isn't that writing heals. it's that writing about pain in a STRUCTURED way heals. participants who just vented felt worse. the ones who improved were those who built a narrative, found causation, and created coherence from chaotic experience. the mechanism isn't expression. it's organization. your brain is converting implicit emotional memory into explicit narrative memory, which is metabolically cheaper to store and no longer triggers a stress response every time it surfaces. the dancing vs swimming result from the einstein study is the one that should rewrite how people think about exercise and cognition. swimming and cycling did nothing for dementia risk. dancing cut it 76%. the difference: dancing requires real-time spatial decision-making, partner coordination, musical timing, and improvisation. it's a cognitive task disguised as a physical one. the brain benefit comes from the complexity, not the cardio


Expertise in kind vs wicked environments

Excerpt:  There are two kinds of environments in which humans develop expertise. Psychologists call them kind and wicked. A kind environment...