A friend of mine recently linked to a speech given to a West Point class about the importance of solitude in leadership. The gist of the talk is that we need to take the time to disconnect from the world – namely the internet which constantly bombards us with ideas and information – and instead formulate our own ideas in solitude. In a way, it denounces the superficiality, multi-tasking, and sensory distractions that exists in so much of our daily interactions.
I wholeheartedly agreed with the speech; yet the ironic thing is, I stopped reading it halfway to share the link on Twitter and Tumblr and “like” the friend’s post that led me to it. It’s a behavior I’ve noticed when I try to do anything productive online. I start the work night by opening a PDF about the economics of regulatory agencies, and half an hour later I’m browsing someone’s Facebook pool party album from July 2007 and there are four other windows open with Twitter, some half written email draft, and a random video. The motion of “Ctrl + Tab + fa… + Down Arrow + Enter” no longer requires any thought but instead is a reflex on my fingers. I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but when I’m trying to crank out essays, every time there is a pause or blank spot in my mind, I almost automatically click another tab to go to some distractions like MSN or GChat.
Try to catch yourself sometimes. It’s like we’re afraid of deep thoughts, yet it’s this very lack of activities in our brain that leads to new ideas being born. Multi-tasking is an illusion.
We talk a lot about “critical thinking” in secondary and higher education. Yes, college classes are challenging and usually require us to go beyond merely summarizing and regurgitating the facts. However, with some basic tools and a dose of common sense, it’s not that hard to cruise by in college, in the U.S. anyway (I know Cornell engineers would beg to differ but bear with me here). The academic system at Oxford is an entirely different story. For those not familiar with the tutorial system (also known as a “tute”), it basically involves meeting one-on-one with your tutor once a week or biweekly for an hour to discuss readings, problem sets, or the paper you supposedly spent a whole week researching and writing. Only a few people have lectures to go to while the rest of us have no classes at all. Our days are supposed to be immersed in books, self-learning, and deep reflections.
This is what my week actually looks like.Â
Instead of doing the sacred academic rituals scholars before us have practiced for centuries, our generation mastered the art of procrastination and manages to “enjoy life” more (which incidentally involves drinking cheap liquor dancing like an madperson in close quarters in a sweaty nightclub til 2am) while cranking out a largely sensible essay at 9 a.m. the morning it’s due.
Um, maybe that’s just certain people…
My friend Phil, who’s another visiting student here, wrote an interesting entry about life structure at Oxford. Oxford is challenging in the sense that it requires our own impetus, discipline, and resolve to make learning happen. From now on I want to make a conscious effort to embrace academia and solitude in learning. To have a tutor’s brain to pick for an hour a week is a precious opportunity that ought not to be wasted. It also doesn’t hurt that my next paper for my tutorial is on international institutions and regulations of wine! Gotta run and do wine sampling for research, be right back.