Greetings, Dear Reader. It’s time for another one of these logs that apparently, some people actually read:

(Or, people just click on the link, and then click away. Either way, bigger number makes me happy.)

Last time, we spoke about how the Javascript ecosystem can be a scary place. Javascript modules (code put into neat boxes that don’t leak out and screw up other things) have been done in (at least?) 2 ways. It gets… messy. I had some issues getting Jest to play nicely with Faker V10. Since then a bunch of people have suggested using Vitest over Jest, since the latter is particularly prone to this muddle (Og’s Log #2 for deets, yo).

Despite all this tinkering, I did set aside time to get some reading done; I only managed to read “How Developers Stop Learning: Rise of the Expert Beginner”:

It’s an older article, 2012, the first in a 2 post series. The second of the two posts focuses on what causes some software groups to “trend toward dysfunction and professional toxicity” (yikes). The first post, (the one I actually read) described how “how individuals opt into permanent mediocrity…”

Presently, I’m not too interested in what causes groups to trend towards crappiness. I am concerned with permanent mediocrity. Damn, I can’t think of a worse insult - Imagine being called permanently mediocre! Not only are you currently incapable of transcending the unthinking depths, you’ll never manage to do so. Brutal. So, in my continuing quest of self-inflicted erudition, I read the damn article, and let me tell you, it really got me thinking, Dear Reader.

In the article, our author describes a shortcut he took in learning to bowl. The shortcut allowed him to reach a local optimum fairly quickly, but, ultimately, an optimum where he languished and from whence he couldn’t escape without changing his fundamental approach:

What’s notable in this example, is that the author had external reference points against which to gauge his bowling; he could compare his ability with that of others. If he was the only bowler in the alley, it would be harder to do so (but not impossible, I don’t think).

I’m not about to recap the entire article (it’s a cool article - read it if you’ve got the time and inclination). I just want to focus on a term it mentions: “expert beginner”. If the author was the only bowler in the alley, he might have seemingly rationally concluded that he’d maxed out on bowling; that he had reached the heights of bowling ability. (Kind of like me with Age of Empires 2 before I started playing competitively online…) To quote the article **“The Expert Beginner has nowhere to go because progression requires an understanding that he has a lot of work to do, and that is not a readily available conclusion.” **The article elaborates on the particular mechanisms that allow for this to happen in the software industry, but the idea is basically that you need some form of getting out your comfort zone to realise that you’ve got work to do!

With some things, I’m definitely a beginner, with other things I’m competent and, hey, maybe I’m even proficient or expert at some stuff. (Apparently my 922 Age of Empires II ELO makes me an “average” player. Hopefully not permanently so). At any level you can plateau, not just at the beginner level. **What differentiates the beginner from a competent / proficient / expert practitioner, is that beginner is the last level at which you have no view of the big picture. **A competent practitioner knows what he doesn’t know, and can solidly make gains to progress. But if you’re stuck at beginner level (and being an expert beginner means that you’ve been stuck so long at beginner that you’re an expert at it), it’s probable that you don’t have a view of the big picture, and where your skill level fits in. Thus, you are permanently mediocre: not only do you kinda suck, but you reckon you’re great and therefore will never make moves to suck less.

This speaks to something deeper. Cultivating the ability and frankly the good taste to review the skill level of your work and knowledge can be a powerful meta-skill as it allows you to consistently climb down from Mt. Stupid (see the image above), and into the pits of the Valley of Despair. This seems essential for being an autodidact. I’m not saying go nuts trying to do this; you can drive yourself insane. I think there are degrees of being an autodidact, but having some measure of this characteristic can only be beneficial, right?

Learning and skill gaining is non-linear. Some days you feel like an expert and others like a novice. You forget things; The meat-net in your skull gets distracted by a nice smelling pastry; You didn’t get enough REM sleep; Shit happens. It’s ups and downs, but the direction and intent matter.

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