Man teaching pointing to a projector screen.

Talking yourself into learning

I’ve been reviewing some coding skills in my spare time to improve the content and coursework I create for my day job.

As part of my practice, I’ve been talking to myself.

Here’s one example:

“I need to turn this text into a link, so [as I’m typing out the code] I need to wrap this header element in an anchor tag and add the hypertext reference attribute to it and set it equal to the hyperlink I need to direct my audience to. Oh, don’t forget to add the target attribute and set it equal to blank so it’ll open in a new tab.”1

It’s more tedious and time-consuming than simply typing out the code. But the point is to understand the concepts behind what I’m doing, not just to write functional code as quickly as possible. (If I wanted to do that, I’d just have Claude do it for me…)

Teaching someone else—even if you’re teaching yourself by talking out loud—is one of the best ways to prove you know something. When you force yourself to explain something out loud, you learn where the gaps in your knowledge are, which then signals what you need to review. Then, when you come to the same scenario again, you can see if you’ve acquired the necessary ability to explain your former knowledge gap.2

This is active recall: talking or writing out something you’ve learned in your own words, and it’s how I’ve been approaching certain aspects of training at work. Rather than having everyone watch videos or read through course SCORM files, we’re testing employees’ abilities to talk through features.

It starts with review, of course—you still need content they can reference at the beginning of the learning process. But that’s where L&D often falls short. We equate content delivery with learning. And, obviously, that’s not true.3

But the proof of learning comes when they’re forced to talk it out and get graded on their delivery.

There’s no punishment for getting things wrong. But we know for certain where the gaps in understanding are, what needs review and further study. Or we learn that we, the L&D practitioners, missed something in the initial teaching and have to fill it in.

Talk out what you’re learning. If you can explain it to someone else (or yourself)—out loud—there’s a good chance you’ve grasped the concept.


  1. I’m aware that this is extraordinarily basic HTML code for all you web developers out there. But the point is the practice of talking it out, not how advanced the code is. ↩︎
  2. My favorite book on this topic was actually written to help college students improve test scores. Check out Cal Newport’s How to Become a Straight-A Student. It’s not just for undergrads. ↩︎
  3. Again, I have to point out that this is why most online learning (e.g., MasterClass, Udemy, and most corporate training) doesn’t work. Consuming information isn’t learning. It’s part of it, sure, but only the retention and understanding of that information actually matter. And the only truly effective way to test this is through active recall, which is exactly what I’m doing when I talk out my code. And it’s what we’re doing when we have people talk through our product. ↩︎

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should

It’s one of my favorite lines from Jurassic Park, and it applies in just about every situation imaginable.

via GIPHY

In my case, it’s on my mind daily as I watch the L&D industry, of which I’m a part, rapidly adopt AI for anything and everything that it possibly can.

The biggest victim of this is video creation. There are now approximately 7 trillion companies that all offer some form of talking-head, AI-avatar video-generating software that’s supposed to make video creation fast, simple, and easy for practitioners.

The problem is, most of it is awful. At least, if you care about your craft and the quality of your output.

The videos are generic. They don’t actually “TEACH” you anything. They simply come across as informational videos, which ironically is what people constantly complain about in corporate training. “It’s too boring. Not actionable. Just random information that I don’t know what to do with.”

So it’s great if you want to do more of the same stuff that doesn’t work, but you want to do it quickly, cheaply, and efficiently.

However, if you ACTUALLY want to create learning that matters, you might be better served doing it without AI. Or at least learn best practices for making learning stick or making it applicable, then work that into your AI-generated videos.

As always, it comes down to design thinking: Who’s it for and what’s it for?

If you know the answer to those questions, you can make quality content. Maybe with AI, or maybe not.

Just because you can do it with AI doesn’t mean you should.

Self-education is great. Self-education is limiting.

When I was 18, I auditioned to become a jazz studies major in the percussion department at the University of Southern Mississippi.

I’d been a musician for most of my life, taking my first lessons at the age of seven and attending one of the state’s best arts schools for a significant portion of my education.

But… I’d studied violin, piano, and voice. I was a completely self-taught drummer. I’d learned everything I knew from playing along to my favorite CDs and watching videos of my favorite drummers, trying to emulate them.

The audition did not go well. Dr. Wooton, the head of the department, asked me to play a ratamacue; I had no idea what that was.1

He asked me to play a G Major scale on his marimba. I remember exactly what I said: “Is it laid out like a piano keyboard?” He chuckled. “Yes, just like a piano.” I picked up a marimba mallet (I’d never held one) and slowly, painfully, pecked out a G Major scale with one hand.

Finally, he asked to see my drum set skills. Dread gave way to excitement… Until he asked me to play a Songo. I had no clue what that was. He asked for a Samba, a 2nd-Line… I just shook my head.

Finally, he asked for a bossa nova. “THAT ONE I KNOW!” I shouted. And I proceeded to demolish his drums like a metalhead on PCP playing the worst bossa nova ever attempted by a drummer.

“NO!” He said. “It’s a light and airy dance music. You play it like this.” And he sat behind the drums and tapped out something a Brazilian native would have happily danced along with.

Dr. Wooton, eventually and probably grudgingly, told me that he would take me into his studio, but that I desperately needed lessons. I decided to delay my entrance to USM by a year while I studied snare drum, drum set, and xylophone with a local private teacher (Jeff Mills, drummer for the blues musician you see in “O, Brother Where Art Thou”).

My skills under Jeff’s tutelage, buoyed by my preexisting musical knowledge, grew exponentially in just a year. I was able to audition again and even pass an audition to join the lower-level jazz band at the university, where I eventually earned a degree.

Why does this story come up now?

Well, I realized a couple of days ago that I’m once again back in the exact same place, but this time in my corporate career.

I work in learning and development for a moderate-sized corporation. And I genuinely feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.

There’s even a term for people like me in the industry: “Accidental trainer.” It’s someone who was really good at teaching, who moved into the corporate world and began implementing those same skills as a trainer… With no formal training.

L&D is its own beast, its own field with tons of nuance. And you need skills ranging from business strategy and project management to adult learning theory, instructional design, and cognitive psychology… Not to mention a penchant for being able to cajole, persuade, and sell to people above you.

Everything I’ve learned has been through on-the-job self-education to accomplish a project or do a task assigned to me. However, I’ve reached a point, much like in my audition, where the cracks in my education (or lack thereof) are starting to show.

It’s getting harder and harder to do my work well because everything is more complex than ever before. More is expected of me, and I worry I’m not up to it where I am today.

So the solution is education: actual education by people who know what they’re doing… Not random readings and YouTube videos. I need a new Jeff Mills for my learning and development career (and don’t worry—I have found something.)

At some point, I think we all discover that self-education and learning on the job aren’t enough to accomplish what’s being asked of us. We need a teacher, a mentor, a master to show us the way. Something, or someone, that knows the ins and outs of the field of study and can help us master it.

If you’ve reached this point, I hope you’ll try to find someone like that to help you level up.


  1. I later found out it was one of his favorite rudiments (sort of a “word” in the language of drumming), and it quickly became mine. If you want to see a master using them, check out this video. ↩︎

Encourage ignorance (and overcome it)

When you are serving other people (i.e., working), there will be times when you don’t have the answer to the problem in front of you.

Perhaps you work in customer service, a retail store, or banking. Someone is going to ask you a question for which you do not have an answer. What do you do?

If you went to a typical school or were processed through typical corporate training, you might have a few possible answers immediately:

  1. Tell the customer you don’t know, you’re sorry, and you can’t help them.
  2. Immediately go to your boss and ask her to give you the answer or take over the situation entirely (unless your boss is a crazy control freak and wants her finger on the pulse of every step you take, she won’t appreciate this).
  3. Try to figure it out yourself by moving through all the formulas, procedures, and company policies with which you were conditioned (definitely not the worst option, but it’s limited in its effectiveness).

Do you see a better option?

The better option

You are surrounded by people that know more than you, have more experience than you, and do the same type of work as you, either in person or resources on the internet. Ask them for help, but take it one step further.

Learn alongside the person you are trying to help. It’s easy and has two benefits: 1) the person in need gets the help he or she requires, and 2) you learn something new that will be in your toolbelt for next time.

Here’s your answer when you don’t know:

“I don’t know the solution to this problem, but I guarantee we can find one. Let’s find out what it is together!

The flaw in our system

Most of our education and training conditions us to work by ourselves, independently from everyone else, under an authority figure who has all the answers.

“Only raise your hand if you know the answer” becomes “never acknowledge ignorance in front of customers!” That will only discredit you. They will lose faith in you. You will be humiliated.

Actually, no – by being humble enough to admit your ignorance, they will respect you for not lying to them, not giving them bad information that will fail or hurt them in practice, and not wasting their time.

The real world is full of collaboration, synergy, and needs us to use all available resources to find the answers. The real world is an open-book group test.

It is not full of, nor should we encourage, independent work with no outside help, an authority figure with all the answers, or a lack of information that you are not allowed to remedy by looking up the answer.

If the real world isn’t like that, why are we training people to operate that way?

Be bold, be brave, and admit your ignorance. Then go find the answer using every person and resource at your disposal.

“I don’t know – let’s find out together.”

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