"
Be human: tinker,"
Nassim Taleb likes to say.
In education and human development (which nearly encompasses everything, if you think about it), this statement leads to the following heuristic (thanks to Dave Lull and Brian Frank):
If it's
n=1 nutrition education, deduce (like Sherlock Holmes), on your own terms, for yourself, what real ancestral foods to eat, to not eat, and to test further by self-experimenting. All that matters is your heritage/lineage, your genetics/epigenetics, and all the other "givens" (as
Keith likes to say) that define and influence your specific
Patient of One case.
Context matters.
If it's
n=1 life-long learning, deduce (like Socrates), on your own terms, for yourself, what real ancestral wisdom to heed, to cast aside, and to test further by trial-and-error thought experimenting (a la Einstein). All that matters is your personal
thinkering--your
thinking (
m=1 searching/reflecting/mythologizing) that leads to
tinkering (acting/responding/creating).
Craft matters.
Bricolage is craft: a
thinkering craft. Human beings embrace crafts; we survive thanks to crafts--just consider how medical practitioners flourish under trauma and emergency conditions, demonstrating vast human potential for working 'miracles', yet struggle considerably to fix our broken bodies when they fail at the hands of the
chronic diseases of civilization. We thrive on the concrete; we do our best but tend to struggle with the abstract. We're human. Bricolage is human. Bricolage involves taking whatever happens to be available, thinking about it, then tinkering with it, just to see what happens, to create new things, build useful products, and fix broken pieces. Nutritional bricolage is self-experimenting with energy intake: (1) searching: we strain, research, reflect, reason, question, and then, finally, make the choice to (2) fuel our physiologies with certain ingredients, the fundamental building block materials that our physiologies must interweave to produce our bodies.
And I am not about to just put anything in my body.
So, I search actively and diligently through my ancestry; I search throughout human (and non-human) history, and I search through the
PubMed Anthology of Mythologies for conjectures that seem most reasonable, logical, and safe for testing on my own body. Remember,
we can't opt out of nutritional bricolage--we have to eat and drink! This critical craft is built into the human condition, whether we like it or not. And, if you have to play the game, you might as well excel (which usually entails failing quickly, rebounding, and fighting back stronger than before, each and every day). We know that predicting the past may be just as difficult as predicting the future. Thus, when we look backwards, whether studying evolutionary concepts, societal conditions prior to war, or how we trained the week before an event, causation will be murky at best. However, here's where craft can help. Craft encourages us to focus on the conditions immediately in front of us: the kitchen (domain), the chopped up vegetables (ingredients), the pastured eggs, etc. that we work our hands into and toss around to make delicious suppers throughout the week. In this immersion, we learn cause and effect tentatively--some spice here produces a new flavor there, which we later test for reproducibility; eggs and bacon cooked in coconut oil sure taste good and satiate hunger effectively (so far); and, the deductive reasoning list expands exponentially. But this exponential expansion is sustainable; it's insatiable but sustainable because the lessons learned in the kitchen have real-world, local context (just what our brain's neural networks need): we embed these gems in our
nutritional culture, just as we do in the gym with our personalized
physical culture.
Yet, outside of the gym and the kitchen, a simple question keeps striking me as critical to our contemporary setting:
"Where have all the crafts gone?"
We need to resurrect craft to pull us out of this mess.
During the debt expansion, crafts were outsourced, downgraded, ignored, and left to float away. "Careers" and "jobs" propped up on debt displaced concrete, tangible hard skills that used to rule the day. We became less human as a result. Craft makes us human. Education is entrusted, in part, with fostering human development. Education needs to re-embrace and teach craft. That's how people develop. Our natural passions for learning emerge through tinkering, through discovering, practicing, and mastering crafts. Crafts provide sustainable sustenance for leading lives. Crafts fulfill us; we feel good about and take pride in producing our own pieces of artwork to share with the world energetically.
A beautifully cooked meal is a piece of art. A graceful and powerful workout is a piece of art. And, we like art.
When (debt) bubbles pop, craft rises to the surface as the modus operandi for searching and acting in the face of opacity. We can learn by grace--bubble or not--rather than by hard knocks by reestablishing the humble role of craft in modern society, one tinkering bout at a time.
Where have all the bricoleurs gone?
Their crafts have catapulted humanity so far.
We could use a positive Black Swan strike to carry us far.
I wish for craft upon a shining star.
To good health,
Brent