If you are stumped by the query posed in the title above, I invite my readers to think back to your formative years. If you are able to read this newsletter, it is likely that you developed the skill early in life. How did the process of learning to read begin? For all of us, the development of this essential skill began with a song that we memorized. I think you will recall the lyrics instantly:
A, bee, cee , dee, eee, eff, gee, h, eye, jay, kay, elameno, pee, que, are, ess, etc. etc.
See, you knew what “elameno” was all along! But what is the point of this whimsical journey into early childhood? It is to give us the opportunity to examine the nature of learning, knowledge, understanding and, most importantly, wisdom.
Imagine that you were asking a young child about the above song they had learned in pre-school or from a sibling or parent. The Q & A might go something like this:
Adult: What is the alphabet, honey?
Child: A, bee, cee, dee, eee, eff, gee, etc, etc.
Adult: I know you have learned how to recite the alphabet,
but what is it?
Child: A, bee, cee. dee, eee, eff, gee……………..
Adult: No, no, honey! What IS the alphabet?
At this point, we see that the conversation is going nowhere. The child is able to demonstrate some learning in the form of the “alphabet song”” but lacks any real understanding of the meaning or significance of the tune they can recite. An ability to explain that the sounds they recite are auditory representations of symbols used to form words (which are another symbolic representation of objects, or feelings, or concepts) is far into the future of the young student. And that’s okay. Learning begins in this concrete manner. A knowledge of the sounds (and shapes) of the letters of the alphabet precedes any abstract understanding of the concept of sentences, paragraphs, and other components of verbal or written communication.
The principle at hand? Knowledge typically precedes understanding.
This process applies to all of us, at any stage in life; not just with little children. Let me use one of my favorite “kid” movies, The Karate Kid” as a case in point. As many of us can recall from the original film, teen-aged Daniel enlists the help of his neighbor, Mr. Miyagi, in learning karate in order to defend himself against school bullies. Mr. Miyagi agrees to teach Daniel karate under the following condition:
“It will be my job to teach you karate. Your job will be to follow my instructions without question.”
Anxious to learn (and avoid more beatings), Daniel readily agrees to the compact. Daniel is then assigned the tedious duties of waxing cars, painting fences, and sanding floors. After days of this drudgery, Daniel rebels and threatens to quit, complaining that Mr. Miyagi has not held up his end of the karate training arrangement. In the dramatic (and most instructive) conclusion of the scene, Mr. Miyagi “attacks” Daniel physically. Daniel instinctively uses the hand movements he had developed through painting, sanding, and waxing to defend himself. And Daniel instantly realizes that Mr. Miyagi had been teaching him karate all along.
In this example, what was the principle? That knowledge (of physical defense moves) preceded Daniel’s real understanding of karate. He had learned the steps involved in karate, just as the child had learned the sounds and shapes of the alphabet. First one; then the other.
On an adult level, how many of us have knowledge without understanding? How often do we parrot things we have heard in gossip, or from TV, (or perhaps even from college professors!)? We may have knowledge of what the acquaintance, or political commentator, or professor said, but do we have a critical understanding of the ideas expressed? Have you ever “learned” something in school as a student, even gotten an answer correct on a test about it, but only later (perhaps years) had an “aha” moment in which a real understanding of the concept came to us?
It has been argued that too often education, at any level, fosters the acquisition of knowledge and information, but fails to develop the skill of critical thinking; of real understanding. An even more important concept on this continuum of learning is wisdom. It is the ability to apply knowledge and understanding appropriately and with a sound sense of timing. For example, if someone close to us loses a loved one, we may have come to understand the phrase, “Time heals all wounds.” But wisdom tells us that our friend does not want to hear that, just hours or even days after the loss. Timing dictates that we reserve that message for a later point in time. Wisdom will dictate the appropriate application of that understanding about loss as well as the correct time to share it.
Our founding fathers understood the importance of wisdom in defining the criteria for becoming the nation’s president. At a time when surviving adults (infant mortality significantly lowered the mean age of life expectancy) typically lived only into their late fifties, they set the age of eligibility for the highest office at 35. They understood that two-thirds of life needed to be experienced before the necessary attribute of wisdom could be acquired.
Finally, this last point about wisdom is demonstrated poignantly in the film, Social Network. It is the story of Mark Zuckerberg, the founder of Facebook and the youngest billionaire in the world. The carefully crafted movie begins with Mark insensitively insulting his girlfriend’s intelligence and, later, even her anatomy. Hurt by her understandable rejection of him, Mark uses his knowledge of the Internet and blogging to ridicule and embarrass her. Ironically, this act of immaturity and petulance becomes the impetus for the creation of Facebook. By movie’s end, Mark is well on his way to unfathomable wealth while also being sued for backstabbing his only friend and erstwhile partner. Losing the lawsuit barely makes a dent in his new fortune, but the final scene ironically shows Zuckerberg scanning Facebook for news about the old girlfriend who he had insulted in the film’s first scene.
Obviously, Mark Zuckerberg is a technical genius. His vast knowledge of the Internet led to his fortune. But socially, there appears to be little understanding or wisdom for him when it comes to human relationships. He was at the “elameno” stage of learning how to relate to others. Hopefully, for his sake, Zuckerberg has grown in that area.
Reader’s homework: What areas of your life demonstrate knowledge, but also understanding and wisdom? Are there areas at which you are at the “elameno” stage of your development and maturity? What can you do to advance in the aspects of your life that would benefit from greater wisdom and understanding? Where are your “blind spots” that keep you from a happier and more satisfying life?
Think about it.