Are we prejudiced against books just when we need them most?

There is book learning and then there is real-world learning, and we tend to think that learning in the real world is more valuable and genuine. As Ishmael boasted in Moby-Dick, “A whale ship was my Yale college and my Harvard.”

But I believe this is prejudice of the worst kind. Even those of us who love books frequently underestimate their power to teach us nearly anything we might want, or need, to know.

I’m one of my own converts. Books taught me the most unlikely of lessons: the counterintuitive physical movements required to safely enjoy three water sports. This is just the kind of learning we might think would come only through doing.

Here’s what I learned not through doing but by reading first—and then doing.

Lesson  No. 1: If you run out of air, exhale

Like many other humans, I’m certified to breathe pressurized air under water. In fact, being a slow learner, I got SCUBA certified twice—first with the NAUI method and then with the alternative PADI method. Whenever I learn a new sport, I make it a point to ask myself, “What’s the absolutely worst thing I could do?” (This is a pertinent question in my case since I do not possess what Tom Wolfe would call the Right Stuff, and must do everything wrong first.)

As it turns out, the worst thing you can do while scuba diving is precisely what would be quite natural if you found yourself under water with no more air. Your instinct would be to hold your breath and try to get to the surface as quickly as possible. If you’re scuba diving and you do this, you might well get yourself killed.

When you breathe under water, you’re breathing compressed air. It feels like a normal breath, but it’s not, and if you rise to the surface while holding your breath, this air will expand and your lungs can burst. Funny thing is, you won’t feel it because your lungs don’t have nerves.

I’m happy to report that I didn’t learn this by doing. I learned it by reading my scuba books.

(In case you’re curious about what you should do in such an emergency, after your last breath of pressurized air, gently hum as you make your way up to the surface, to make sure bubbles escape from your mouth. I hasten to add that I haven’t actually tested this, nor do I recommend you do, but if you’re interested in knowing how even the most experienced divers can meet or escape disaster, I recommend the riveting and true book Shadow Divers by Robert Kurson.)

Lesson No. 2:  If you want to come up, stay down

After enjoying kayaking for many years, I decided I should learn how to do an Eskimo roll. That’s the neat maneuver of capsizing and then righting yourself. It’s a necessary maneuver for whitewater kayakers, which I am not (see lack of Right Stuff, above), and a nice trick to know for ocean kayakers, which I am.

Now I ask you, if you found yourself upside down in a kayak, what is the first thing you’d want to do? If you said, “Get my head out of the water,” you would be quite normal. And also quite wrong.

Turns out there are three necessary actions to perform:

1. Position your paddle at 90 degrees to your boat, with the blade near the surface (you’re under water, remember).
2. Pull down strongly while flicking your hips.
3. Keep your head as close to the submerged deck of your boat as possible, to keep your center of gravity low.

The surprise is that you’ll only be able to roll back up if your head is the last thing that comes out of the water and into the blessed air.

I learned this not from a book exactly, although plenty of kayaking books describe it, but in a catalog produced by a San Diego kayak maker named Seda.

Only by knowing what I was supposed to do and why—and then practicing in my pool with my sons taking turns rolling their flailing father back up if he didn’t manage it himself—did I succeed in learning how to do an Eskimo roll. Then I helped them learn to roll, and we’ve since been able to impress our friends and exasperate their ever-suffering mother.

Lesson No. 3: If you need a life raft, read a book

It seemed like a good idea at the time. My deranged adventure buddy Rob had already gotten me into cycling, and I’ve jogged all my life, so why not try a triathlon? “All it adds is swimming,” he said. And I’m from San Diego, and a pretty good swimmer.

Well, I learned why not the hard way. In my first triathlon, with the swim in the ocean near my home in Delray Beach, Florida, I nearly died.

Before I made it to the first buoy, I was gasping like a wild-eyed wildebeest. All these guys were kicking and clobbering me. I flopped over on my back and just tried to keep afloat.

I would have signaled to one of the lifeguards leisurely paddling their boards nearby, but the effort of waving my arm was too much. I was just concentrating on gulping air and moving in the general direction of finishing. I prayed the other swimmers wouldn’t splash too much water into my panting mouth as they went by.

It was scary as well as mortifying, since I thought I could swim well enough. I made a promise to myself that, should I live, I would never, ever do this again. 

After my near-death experience, someone told me about a swimming course called Total Immersion. I Googled it and found they sold a book with the laughable title Triathlon Swimming Made Easy, by Terry Laughlin. It reminded me of something the Coyote would order from Acme.

But order it I did, and then I read it with amazement. It was a revelation, and is now one of my favorite how-to books of all time, right up there with Strunk & White.

One of the counterintuitive things I learned in the little book reminded me of Eskimo rolls: Don’t try to lift your head out of the water. That will just force your body down. Instead, allow the water to push up your head so you can breathe. Voilà!

I’ve since done more than a dozen triathlons, and I thank Terry Laughlin for his talented on-the-page coaching of misfit swimmers like me.

Bonus Lesson No. 4—the most important of all

It should be obvious from the three tales above that I am no athlete. What I am is inquisitive, stubborn, and a lover of books. But even I have to remind myself when I’m curious about something that there must be a book for that. Are you like that too?

The smartest thing our species has done is to become literate, and the best of literacy is contained in books. Books, it turns out, have all the Right Stuff.

Isn’t it time to slough off our age-old prejudice about book learning and revel in it? Shouldn’t we expect to learn surprising truths from past authors, and critical new truths from the writers of today?

In The World Without Us by Alan Weisman, the author gives a startling and disturbing account of plastics throughout our oceans. Understanding our oceans and their role in our survival is just one of many critically important things our species must learn quickly—things we cannot learn from real experience ourselves, but only from the virtual experiences made possible by our literacy.

My question for you

How about you—have you learned something from a book that you thought you could learn only from personal experience? I’d love to hear.  Just click on the Comments link below. (If you’re reading this as an email, click here and you’ll connect to Comments).

Comments

[Bruce Klaiss]

Looking at your piece here from a less athletic standpoint, I still agree with you. I look at the contention from an academic standpoint -- my own academic experience. I had plenty of experience in my jobs with hands-on work, but I didn't start to think until I had done a considerable amount of reading and talking -- specifically, a liberal-arts education at Rollins College in Winter Park, Fla. Most people these days pooh-pooh a liberal-arts course; but the act of reading the books in your courses, and then actively discussing them with the professor and your classmates, and then writing your own thoughts about them, improves your ability to think about them, and about other things as well. But the basis of all this resides in the reading -- classics, nonfiction, almost anything, but the key is read.

[George Ittner]

Steve is right. We learn best from books, unmatched by the Web, classroom or anything else. As for my own experience, I would cite Strunk and White's "The Elements of Style," mentioned by Steve. One can go through school, including the best of the best, and emerge without a grasp of the very basics of clarity and style in writing. Read the little book, and you've got it. And when what you have learned starts to vaporize, as it will, you can read the little book again, and again.

[Elizabeth H. Cottrell]

I don't have a personal example to share, but this makes me think that perhaps the neural pathways involved in learning physical activities from books are related to another phenomenon reported by prisoners-of-war who, during their incarceration, regularly practiced a favorite sport (e.g., golf) in their mind, play by play. Even after several years away from the sport, they found that their skill had deteriorated very little.

And the flip side of your great post is that another beautiful gift from reading books is that they can put us BACK in touch with things we already knew but had forgotten.

Thanks for a thought-provoking post.

[David Giacomini]

Very well said. I too agree that book smarts can often be perceived as being less valuable than experience. It amazes me that our entire educational system is based primarily upon reading and lessons passed along through books, yet when it comes to real-world applications, books often become inconsequential.

Another element you touch on is that of curiosity. While the examples you cited certainly contained specific tactics to improve skills in certain areas, what is also shown is your curiosity and desire to learn. I tend not to view higher education and reading as specific tactical learnings but rather, a process to foster creativity and continue my desire to learn. Broadening my knowledge base helps me identify creative connections to problems, philosophy, relationships and much more. Even in your example above, you were able to relate three distinct differences between snorkeling, swimming and kayaking. In each instance, there is a point of the activity that is counter-intuitive and a person must resist their natural instinct to succeed.

I also love being challenged by what I read. I tend to read many business-oriented books and often times find myself having debates in my head with the author (usually not out loud, thankfully). I've accepted that I don't necessarily have to agree with an author, but I usually still get something of value out of the book.

As for me personally learning something from books rather than experience... I would have to say computer programming and web design. These were topics not readily available when I was going to school, but I had a keen interest and passion for learning these skills. I would often get obsessed about a particular topic like web design and consume books madly and then begin "doing." There was no one to talk to about the subjects and no resources readily available for learning such topics. Once the base was firmly established, additional topics were pursued such as SEO, E-commerce and online advertising. Eventually, I was able to operate a small but successful e-commerce business as well as marketing agency.

Another, more recent example is the start-up of a small kids luggage company my wife and I are pursuing. We are sourcing the product from China and learning about the requirements for importing goods from overseas. Reading through several books first gave us the confidence to attempt importing these suitcases.
I never really examined my past history through the course of books I've read but there is certainly a correlation to the path I've taken.

Thank you again for your thought-provoking post.

[Jacqueline Gillenwater]

While living in Jacksonville, Florida, and being a Tampa native, I thought I knew all there was to know about Florida weather thanks to Roy Leep; that was not true. While reading one of the Travis McGee novels by John D. MacDonald, I found out the duration of a squall line. That was such valuable information that it caused a new furrow to be cut in my brain, and I have retained that gem of information in the quick recall portion of my gray matter.

[marsha steinwegd]

I have loved and read books all my life. And my joy is deciding which one to read next. One of my favorites is Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. She is dynamite. My life is reading my books, and they bring much joy. Yours Marsha Rose Steinwegm

[Deborah Pearce]

Steve, You are inspiring as always. But promise us that you aren't going to take up sky diving. Meanwhile, great encouragement to turn to books so that we can learn from one another. Deborah

[Frederick Ingram]

I'm just impressed that you spelled Moby-Dick with a hyphen.

[Ellen J. Reich]

I stumbled into your blog for the first time today while I was intending to unsubscribe to my Levenger email (attempting to stem the waves of the email flood). Now look what you've done - rather than delete an incoming, I've added another by subscribing directly to your blog! (A distinct danger associated with the desire to breathe words.)

My experience learning from books began in childhood and continues unabated. I am fascinated by the inner worlds of others. Fictional characters, autobiographical offerings, all have increased my understanding of and (I hope) empathy for those I do not know. Being privy to the private, inner thoughts of fictional characters continues to remind me that what is present on the outside may not reflect the essence of the person before me. Curiosity and open-mindedness, nurtured by reading, has expanded my patience and world view. (Not quite as concrete as swimming and kyak rolling, but meaningful none the less!)

www.in2books.com links adults who love to read with elementary students still mastering the ability. It appears to be a well-run organization with an inspiring mission: encouraging the love of reading and writing in young people. Each volunteer enters a structured penpal relationship with one student (with safety standards and filters in place) for the school year from the comfort of your own home! OK - end of plug. But for those of us who love books, it's a viable way to share that passion where it matters.

[huile de foie de morue]

Nice, provocative post,
Very interesting Blog. Hope it will always be alive!

[Monta]

Have I learned something from a book that I thought I could learn only from personal experience? How about learning something that I thought I could never learn at all?

I learned how to survive and to become my own person. I learned how to become strong enough to escape an abusive, life-threatening relationship; to stand up and speak the truth (as I see it) even when doing so might cost me friends, family, or livelihood (I have yet to be tested as to whether or not I have the courage to stand up and speak when it might cost my life...); to stand up for causes and issues that I feel important, rather than sit back and let others take the risk.

Strangely enough, this lesson did not come from any of the plethora of self-help books that are so popular these days, but instead from the fictional works of writers like Ursula LeGuin, Octavia Butler, C. J. Cherryh, Charles de Lint, Robert Jordan and others...