The Limits of Learning

by James Wallace Harris, 8/18/25

I began work on the project I described in my last post (“What Should I Major in at Old Age University“) by looking through the books in my bookcases for titles that fit the project. The first one I found was Self Comes to Mind by Antonio Damasio. After reading a few pages, I wanted to hear it. I bought the audiobook. After listening to fifteen pages, I knew this book was one I wanted to study thoroughly. I purchased the Kindle edition so I could highlight the passages I wanted to remember.

I was particularly taken with this paragraph:

We all have free access to consciousness, bubbling so easily and abundantly in our minds that without hesitation or apprehension we let it be turned off every night when we go to sleep and allow it to return every morning when the alarm clock rings, at least 365 times a year, not counting naps. And yet few things about our beings are as remarkable, foundational, and seemingly mysterious as consciousness. Without consciousness—that is, a mind endowed with subjectivity—you would have no way of knowing that you exist, let alone know who you are and what you think. Had subjectivity not begun, even if very modestly at first, in living creatures far simpler than we are, memory and reasoning are not likely to have expanded in the prodigious way they did, and the evolutionary road for language and the elaborate human version of consciousness we now possess would not have been paved. Creativity would not have flourished. There would have been no song, no painting, and no literature. Love would never have been love, just sex. Friendship would have been mere cooperative convenience. Pain would never have become suffering—not a bad thing, come to think of it—but an equivocal advantage given that pleasure would not have become bliss either. Had subjectivity not made its radical appearance, there would have been no knowing and no one to take notice, and consequently there would have been no history of what creatures did through the ages, no culture at all.

Damasio, Antonio. Self Comes to Mind: Constructing the Conscious Brain. Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

I want to know everything Damasio is telling us. I want to remember it. I was never a good student, never good at remembering information for tests, and at age 73, my memory is like a sieve. There are both comprehensive barriers that I can’t overcome, and limitations to the knowledge I can digest and maintain.

To maximize my reading concentration, I concurrently listen to an audiobook edition while following along with the printed page with my eyes. Although Damasio’s prose set my mind on fire, I can’t paraphrase what I just read. I can vaguely say that he describes what he thinks the mind is and makes a case that feelings are an important aspect of understanding the mind. I remember that because I wondered if AIs can ever become conscious without feelings. Feelings must be tied to biology.

If I’m ever going to learn and remember what I read, I need to go beyond the momentary exposure to ideas I get through simple reading. It seems comic, or should I say tragic, or maybe ironic, or even pointless, that I’m finally getting down to developing study habits at 73.

The only way to prove you know something is to teach it. Teaching a topic requires comprehension. I feel that when reading, I do comprehend, but that’s probably a delusion. One way to explain something is to give an analogy that makes the idea understandable. Another method is to create an infographic, chart, or diagram.

Yesterday, when I set my goal to understand how my personality developed and to explain why people are delusional, I didn’t say I wanted to teach what I learned. I did write that my final proof of accomplishment is writing a thesis on what I learned. That is a kind of teaching. It makes allowances for my quick-to-forget brain.

Reading gives the illusion of “Oh, I see,” and then you forget. I need to develop a note-taking system. And I think I need to mindmap what I read. I need to knuckle down and learn Obsidian. That’s a note-taking software program that allows for hyperlinks. And other tools will help me organize and temporarily remember information so I can summarize what I learn in prose.

But I really need to amend my goal. I don’t think I can say I learned anything unless I can teach it to someone else by conversing with them. I know mansplainers are looked down on, but I’m terrible at explaining things verbally.

I can write blogs because I have all the time I need to compose and revise. I can look things up. Explaining things in a lecture, or even a conversation, involves memory and comprehension at levels I cannot muster.

I need to go beyond reading. I need to go beyond writing. For my study project, I need to get into teaching. Since I don’t want to become a boring mansplainer, I need to learn the art of the Socratic dialogue.

JWH

What Should I Major in at Old Age University?

by James Wallace Harris, 8/16/25

I’ve decided to earn an equivalent of a graduate degree before I turn 77. I need a project that will keep me occupied in retirement. I’ve always been one to know a tiny bit about hundreds of subjects rather than a lot about a few. I want to pick one subject and stick with it.

I could get a master’s degree from the University of Memphis, where I used to work, since I can take courses for free. I’m not sure they have a major that fulfills my interests. I will check it out. I’ll also check out available online universities. Mainly, I’m borrowing the structure of a graduate degree for my plan.

I decided a book-length thesis will be my measure of success. Since a master’s degree usually takes two or three years, I’m giving myself until I turn 77, which is November 25, 2028.

Over the next few months, I will decide what I want to study. There are many things to consider and think about. Most graduate programs have lots of prerequisites. Before I retired, I considered taking an M.S. in Computer Science. That program required 24 hours of math courses and 12 hours of computer courses to be accepted into the program. The degree itself was 36 hours.

It’s doubtful I could finish a computer science degree before turning 77. And in all honesty, I no longer have the cognitive ability to retake all that math.

My undergraduate degree is in English. I did 24 hours towards an M.A. in Creative Writing before I dropped out. I was also interested in American, British, and European literature. I’d have to start over from scratch because those 24 hours would have timed out. But I no longer want to study English or creative writing.

I’ve also thought of pursuing an Art History degree. I’ve been collecting art books and art history books for a couple of decades, and I have friends with degrees in Art History. One gave me a list of 200 artworks that I’d be required to discuss to pass the oral exam for the master’s degree. I started reading about those works.

I realized I would have to commit several years of dedicated study to pass the oral. I don’t want to do that. I don’t love art that much. I’m not sure what single subject would be worth that much dedication.

I’ll study college catalogs for inspiration, but it’s doubtful that I will want to complete an actual degree from a university. Instead, I will need to make up my own degree.

Let’s say a master’s degree involves twelve courses, and each course requires studying five books. Then my custom-designed degree will require distilling sixty books into a single thesis volume. That thesis should present an original idea.

The single subject I do know a lot about is science fiction. And I’ve thought it would be fun to write a book that parallels the development of science with the evolution of science fiction. I probably already own the books I’d need to research the subject. And it would be the easiest goal for me to achieve because it’s a subject I love and would have no trouble sticking with.

However, I’ve become obsessed with a couple of ideas that I want to study. I believe they are especially fascinating for the last years of my life.

The first is about how humans are delusional. I’d like to chronicle all the ways we fool ourselves. I want to study all the cognitive processes to discover if we can interact with reality without delusion. Current affairs is the perfect laboratory for such a study.

Second, I’m fascinated by how personality is formed. I’d like to answer this question: If I knew then what I know now, how would I have reshaped my personality?

There is a synergy between the two interests. How do delusions shape our personality?

Ever since I read Ed Yong’s An Immense World, I’ve been fascinated by the concept of Umwelt. Our senses limit and define how we perceive reality. Our personality and cognitive abilities determine how we choose to react to that perception of reality.

I haven’t decided yet on what I will pick, but I’m leaning towards delusion and personality development. If I choose that, I’d start this project by collecting books on the subjects and by reading popular periodicals. Eventually, I’d get to academic journals. I don’t think my made-up degree will be very rigorous, though. I’d consider a two-hundred-page book at a modest popular science reading level to merit my do-it-yourself degree.

JWH

Listing Every Subject I’m Interested In Based on the Books I Own

by James Wallace Harris, 8/14/25

I bought more than a thousand books, preparing for retirement, thinking that after I left the nine-to-five grind, I’d have all the time in the world to read them. It’s not working out like I planned. All the time in the world has turned out to be much less than I imagined. Old age does a number on your temporal sense, which I didn’t anticipate. Being retired turns off the “gotta do this soon” mechanism in the brain, so it’s much easier to tell myself I’ll get around to that someday.

I’ve always wanted a catchy saying about buying more books than I can read, that parallels that old idiom about eating, “My eyes were bigger than my stomach.” My ability to acquire books far exceeds my ability to read them.

This problem is mainly due to my inability to commit. Learning is about specializing. To go deep into any subject requires ignoring all other subjects. I’m as indecisive as Hamlet when it comes to picking a project and sticking with it. However, I feel like I’m zeroing in on something. I don’t know what. I’d like to write a book. I have several ideas. I just can’t commit to one.

Looking through my books, I see that I’m torn between understanding the past, working in the present, and anticipating the future. The momentum of aging makes me retrospective, but I need to fight that. The present is real, and the past and future aren’t. However, to survive well in the present requires some knowledge of the past. And since we always act in the moment, we still feel we’re preparing for the future.

The Lesson of Destination Moon

Destination Moon was a 1950 science fiction film about the first manned rocket to the Moon. It was loosely based on Robert A. Heinlein’s Rocket Ship Galileo, and Heinlein contributed to the screenplay. In the story, the astronauts use too much fuel when landing on the Moon. To have enough fuel to take off and return to Earth, the astronauts must reduce the weight of the rocket and its contents. They throw everything they can out of their rocket ship, including the radio, equipment, seats, and their space suits. With the reduced weight, they take off for Earth.

In old age, I have too many goals, desires, and possessions holding me down. Their weight keeps me from accomplishing any larger goal. I need to jettison everything I can. I’m starting by evaluating my book collection and tallying all the subjects I want to study and read about.

This will be a multi-stage process. In this essay, I’m looking at all my books and listing the subjects I thought I wanted to study. Here is the current list, and even though it’s long, it’s still partial:

  • 1939 World Fair
  • 1960s
  • 1960s Counter Culture
  • Aging
  • Alexander von Humboldt
  • Alfred Hitchcock
  • American History
  • American Literature
  • Amor Towles – Writer
  • Anthony Powell – Writer
  • Anthropology
  • Archaeology
  • Art history
  • Artificial Intelligence
  • Astronomy
  • Bible Archaeology
  • Bible History
  • Biographies
  • Bob Dylan
  • Books – History
  • Boston – 19th Century History
  • British Literature
  • British Literature Between the Wars
  • Charles Darwin
  • Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall – Writers
  • Chess
  • Classical Music
  • Classical Studies
  • Climate Change
  • Computer History
  • Computers
  • Country Music
  • Creative Fiction
  • Creative Nonfiction
  • Databases
  • Democracy
  • Drawing
  • Early Christianity
  • Economics
  • Electronics – Learning
  • Elizabeth Strout – Writer
  • Environmentalism
  • Ernest Hemingway – Writer
  • Feminism
  • Feminist History
  • Fiction
  • Future
  • Gerontology
  • Go Programming
  • H. G. Wells
  • Hollywood vs. History
  • Impressionism
  • Information and Information Theory
  • Information Hierarchy
  • Jack Kerouac – Writer
  • Jazz
  • Lady Dorothy Mills – Writer
  • Learning – Study Methods
  • Linux / Unix
  • Literary History
  • Literature
  • MacOS
  • Magazines – History
  • Mark Twain
  • Mathematics – History
  • Mathematics – Pure
  • Memory
  • Miami – History
  • Mitford Sisters
  • Movies – History
  • Music – History
  • Nassim Nicholas Taleb – Writer
  • Network Attached Storage (NAS)
  • Nostalgia
  • Note Taking Systems
  • Obsidian – Software
  • Old West
  • Particle Physics
  • Philip K. Dick – Writer
  • Philosophy
  • Photography – History
  • Photography – How To
  • Politics
  • Power Grid
  • Pulp Magazines
  • Python Programming
  • Quantum Mechanics
  • Reading
  • Renewable Energy
  • Rhetoric
  • Robert A. Heinlein – Writer
  • Rock Music
  • Scanning – Books and Magazines
  • Science
  • Science – History
  • Science Fiction
  • Science Fiction – Criticism
  • Science Fiction – History
  • Science Fiction – Magazines
  • Short Stories
  • Sustainability
  • Taxonomy
  • Technology
  • Television – History
  • The Beats
  • The Lost Generation
  • Westerns – Books
  • Westerns – Movies
  • Westerns – Television Shows
  • Windows – OS
  • Writing
  • Yuval Noah Harari – Writer

One of the first decisions I made was to give up on westerns. I have collected many westerns on DVDs. Along the way, I started collecting books on movie and TV westerns. I decided that in the remaining years of my life, I didn’t need to know that much about Westerns. I also gave away my books on TV history.

I’m approaching each subject like I did with Westerns.

Another example, while flipping through my math books, I decided to abandon any hope of relearning math. I gave away my books on pure math. However, I kept books on the history of math. I still want to see the big picture of history. In the long run, I might have to abandon any interest in math. I just don’t know at the moment. This is a process.

Do I Keep Books I’ve Already Read?

I’ve always kept books I’ve read as a form of external memory. The painful truth is, I seldom consult those books. I’ve long known it’s cheaper to buy books at full price when I need them rather than to stockpile them when I find them as bargain used books or Kindle deals. I think the same thing might apply to keeping books. The time and energy that goes into maintaining them in my library is more expensive than just rebuying a book if I want to reread it.

For example, I gave all my Elizabeth Strout books to my friend Ann. If I ever want to reread them, I’ll try the library.

Whatever Happened to Libraries?

It used to be that libraries were depositories of knowledge. I don’t feel that anymore. I’ve gone to the public library too many times to research a subject only to find a battered collection of old books. That’s why I’ve bought my own. However, I don’t think it’s practical to be my own public library.

We can find massive collections of information on the Internet or with AIs. Unfortunately, I don’t trust those sources.

I wish I had a trusted source of online knowledge.

Kindle and Audible Books

I’m not worrying about my digital books because they are out of sight, and thus out of mind.

I decided to get rid of any physical fiction books that I had on Kindle, but not if I owned them on Audible. I like seeing the words. For now, I’ll keep the physical copies of nonfiction books if I also own them as an ebook. I prefer flipping through the pages of a book when studying.

The Limits of Memory

There are many books I’ve kept because I hoped to study a subject. For instance, I’ve long fantasized about relearning mathematics. I got through Calculus I in college, but then I waited too long to take Calculus II. This is why I gave away my pure math books. I can no longer remember things well enough to study a complex subject.

Whatever books I choose to read in this last part of my life, they need to be books that expand my overall impression of reality, but don’t require me to remember the details.

I guess I’m going for wisdom over data.

Limits of Time

I’m hesitant to keep my art history books. I enjoy looking at the pictures, but I just don’t have time to study many more subjects in this lifetime. My interests include several subjects that could become a black hole of study. I really should flee from them.

I’m trying to decide my “Major” for old age. All my life, I’ve been a knowledge grazer. I nibble at one subject and then move on to another. I’ve always wanted to go deep into one area, to specialize. However, I never could settle down. I’m probably too old to change my ways now. I’m going to try, though. The process of selecting my major will be the topic of the next essay.

Shrinking My Library to Focus My Mind

I gave the library a lot of books today. I love buying books. I love owning books. But I own too many for this time of my life. I also have too many things I’m interested in. Too many for the time and energy I have at age 73. I’m like the rocket in Destination Moon. I’m too heavy for the fuel in my tanks.

It would help if I had a committed destination. I’d know what to keep and what to jettison.

JWH

Back to Vinyl, Again

by James Wallace Harris

Decades ago, I donated hundreds of LPs to the library after realizing I hadn’t played them in years. At the time, I had almost two thousand CDs. This was around the turn of the century, before streaming but after MP3s. It was obvious that LPs were an outdated technology. They were inconvenient to use.

About a decade later, when I heard about the vinyl revival, I got intrigued when enthusiasts claimed analog sounded better than digital. At the time, I was chasing hi-rez audio with SACDs. I bought a turntable and a few LPs. I was disappointed with both formats. Although they sounded different, I didn’t feel a night-and-day difference. I quit buying SACDs and gave my turntable and LPs to a friend.

My theory was that either I didn’t have expensive enough equipment to hear the difference, or my ears were old and I couldn’t hear the difference.

A few years later, I bought another turntable, a much cheaper one, when I discovered the library bookstore was selling old LPs for 50 cents each. I’d buy $10 worth at a time of old records from the 1950s and 1960s. Each time, I’d pick albums that I’d never heard of before, just for fun. But after buying about sixty albums and only finding a couple of gems, I stopped. By the way, one gem was the soundtrack to Pete Kelly’s Blues. I also ordered from Discogs a few favorite albums that I never found on streaming.

However, the deficiencies of the LP format kept annoying me. The pops, hiss, crackles, and skips. Also, I’d have to get up every time I want to hear something different. Streaming is just so damn convenient. So I packed up the turntable and put it in the closet and shelved the records.

Several months ago, I decided I needed to get rid of stuff because I’m getting old and need to manage fewer possessions. I gave away the turntable, but for some reason, I couldn’t part with the records.

Then, a few weeks ago, I had a realization. I missed shopping for records. Starting in 1965 and until streaming killed the record store, I would shop once a week and usually buy one or more albums. That gave me great pleasure. I suddenly wanted that again. I guess it was nostalgia, but I also missed having a reason to get out of the house.

I bought another turntable, the third, since the vinyl revival. This time, a slightly better one, which I plugged into my Audiolab 6000 phono stage. The combination sounded great. And I started shopping for records. It’s different this time. It means going around town looking at used records. Memphis has a few record stores in rundown buildings and some antique malls with a couple of vendors who sell LPs. A few places like Target sell new records, but the selection is very limited and the albums are very expensive.

It’s not the same as the old days when I shopped at Peaches. I do feel a bit of the old thrill flipping through the bins, hoping to find an LP that will turn out to be a new favorite. I loved finding an album I would play over and over for a couple of weeks. I still do that with streaming, but so far haven’t in record stores.

The temptation is to look for used copies of old favorite albums, but I decided against that. I make myself buy unknown albums, ones I missed decades ago, hoping to discover an overlooked gem. So far, no luck.

I’ve been lucky at Shangri-la Records in getting old albums in great shape and with little surface noise. But my other sources haven’t been so good. Paying $9 for an unknown jazz trio and having it play with lots of pops and crackles is disappointing. I like the music of The Don Scaletti Trio, but I’d like them more without the extra sounds. Interestingly, this group isn’t available on Spotify to hear clearly.

I doubt I will buy many albums. I will risk buying some new albums by current artists. I’ve been watching record reviewers on YouTube, and there are zillions of albums to try. There seems to be a world of new music that I never noticed.

If I wasn’t trying to recreate an old joy, I wouldn’t mess with vinyl. CDs sound better, and streaming is just too damn convenient. I’m going to allow myself to buy an occasional album, new or used, to recreate a ritual I fondly remember from when I was younger. That ritual involves shopping for the album, and then sitting in a chair and doing nothing but listening to the two sides of the album for the first time while studying the cover.

Mostly, I listen to music via playlists on Spotify. I listen to music like most people do when watching a movie at the theater. It’s the only thing I do. All my attention is on the music. I prefer playing songs from playlists because I’m not interrupted, and every song is one I know I love. However, I think it’s important to sometimes listen to whole albums. LPs are good for that because it’s inconvenient to listen to specific songs.

When I was young, I used to listen to albums with friends. But I have no one who wants to do that anymore. Actually, most of my friends have stopped listening to music. Some still go to concerts, or to bars to hear tribute bands play their favorite music from decades ago. A few have a handful of songs they listen to on their phone as background music while they work around the house. I’m not sure streaming was the main reason why record stores died. My generation, which grew up buying LPs, stopped buying. And newer generations never developed the habit.

I feel lonely regarding my love of music. When I shop for records, I seldom see other people. When I do, it’s usually old guys like me. I know some young people do buy records because of the vinyl revival, but I don’t see them.

JWH

Do You Trust What You Read?

by James Wallace Harris, 8/4/25

Yesterday I tried to remember what I thought about as a young kid. I recall a few incidents when I was three, but I don’t start having many memories until I was around twelve or thirteen. The earliest age I can recall being philosophical is from that same period. Before twelve, I can’t remember thinking about things. I probably did. Very young kids are notorious for asking why.

But then I thought of something. It was around age eleven or twelve that I started reading books. The first books I chose were nonfiction about airplanes, space travel, dinosaurs, submarines, cars, and other things that boys like in the fourth and fifth grades. Fourth grade was 1960-1961. I turned ten in late 1961. In the fifth grade (1961-1962), I discovered fiction. Especially, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum and the Tom Swift, Jr. series. In the sixth grade (1962-1963), I got hooked on biographies and a few science fiction books.

It seems obvious that reading inspires thinking.

It was around the sixth grade, or the beginning of the seventh grade, that I can remember thinking about the world. During the seventh grade, and into the eighth, I became an atheist. I remember agonizing over that issue. What I heard in church and from my mother didn’t match what I was experiencing. Nor did it match what I was learning in school or what I was reading. I didn’t read any books on religion or against religion. All the ideas I consumed, especially from books, made me think.

Here’s the kicker. I read a lot of crappy books with crappy ideas, and they infected me. Ideas about flying saucers, reincarnation, ESP, and remembering past lives, like in Bridie Murphy. Most of this came from my uncles, my father’s two brothers.

After rejecting religion, I eventually rejected the occult, spiritualism, and psychic abilities. I rejected them because I read more science books and science fiction. I was skeptical of what was in the science fiction books, but I wanted to believe many of SF’s stupid speculations about the future. The genre promised a more exciting reality that competed with religion.

I didn’t become truly skeptical until many years later. Maybe when I encountered the magazine, The Skeptical Inquirer.

The point I’m trying to make, with this long introduction, is to explain how I was overwhelmingly influenced by what I read. Even after a lifetime of skepticism, I’m easily swayed by concepts I got through books and magazines.

Of course, I’m also susceptible to ideas from my peers, television, and the Internet. Whenever I hear about a neat concept, one that sounds like it helps explain reality, I want to embrace it. I’m easily persuaded by intellectuals and studies that claim to be scientific.

Decades ago, I decided that science was the only cognitive tool humans had developed to explain reality in any consistent fashion. Science is statistical. It doesn’t offer conclusive answers. To truly understand science requires a great deal of science and mathematics. I don’t have those skills. I depend on popular science, and that isn’t the same thing. Accepting an idea based on popular science is similar to being religious and taking a theological concept on faith.

The only way to be scientifically minded without being a scientist is to look for the most consensus among scientific authorities. And this is true for understanding everything that doesn’t fit under the scientific microscope, such as politics, law, ethics, and creating a sustainable society.

Since 2016, I’ve decided that humans are all delusional, including myself. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of ways to be deluded. I decided I couldn’t trust the Internet or television. That I would only trust quality periodicals that had solid editorial policies. Unfortunately, such magazines and newspapers are going out of business.

People no longer want to pay for information. Television and the Internet have conditioned Americans to consume free information. And if you can’t see how that is destroying us, then that’s another delusion you are suffering from.

Humans eagerly embrace untrue concepts that support their desires. We even have labels for that delusion: confirmation bias, wishful thinking, motivated reasoning, and cognitive dissonance reduction.

I’m reminded of what the Jeff Goldblum character said in the movie, The Big Chill. “I don’t know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They’re more important than sex.”

I want to separate myself from my rationalizations. The only way I can think to do that is by reading significant research. What I think depends on what I read. That means being extra careful with selecting my reading.

It also means I need to support the periodicals doing the best job of explaining reality.

JWH