Hello Friends,
Several years ago, I learned the term "second brain." It described the habit of using a piece of software, like MS Notes, Evernote, or some other application to hold bits and bobs of information that you wanted, but didn't use often enough to actively remember.
I thought this was a good idea, because I kept my ancillary knowledge on stray pieces of paper: the back of computer printouts, Post-it notes, envelopes.
A second brain was going to improve my life. I would possess an awesome digital store of the stuff I wanted to retain without overflowing my brain or putting in the effort to remember.
A user could even synchronize these applications across devices. I could have this second brain on both my phone and my multiple computers (I was a software consultant, so I had several).
It turns out I'm not a very good note taker. You kind of have to be to make this work.
Like maintaining disparate scraps of paper, I started collecting only partially filled assemblages of knowledge spread across multiple second brains—it seemed none of these applications resonated with me in a way that allowed me to integrate them into my life as seamlessly as promised.
And, as time went on, these memory applications became more fractured. I kept phone numbers and email addresses in a contact list, documents and photos in the cloud on Google drive, web links in my browser's favorites tab, and tasks in a calendar app.
Then, finally, the future arrived, and all these apps and my data could be carried around on a smart phone.
Using our smart phones to maintain our thoughts, idea, and artifacts has become so natural that we don't even think about storing some of our personal data in a second brain application. We just have a tiny computer with multiple specific apps that accompany us everywhere.
The result of this: I went to the pharmacy to pick up some rather expensive medicine for my cat (don't ask, she's precious), and I had to look at my phone's contact list for my wife's phone number (she remembers mine…what does that say about our society, or me, I guess…).
My point is this: I can still remember my childhood phone number and many of my childhood friends' phone numbers. But, I can't remember my wife's.
I generally don't need to, so I haven't tried. Which is not exactly true. I have tried, many times, and I still can't. I remember it right up until the next time I need to recall it. Then, I have to look at my phone.
A marriage counselor might suggest that remembering a spouse's phone number is first brain, not second brain stuff. I would whole-heartedly agree.
I would also suggest that since the proliferation of cloud-based search engines like Google, we've had to store even fewer chunks of data, because information is always available—I cannot count how many times I have looked up my favorite take-out restaurant's phone number because it hasn't even made it to my contact list.
It seems second brain apps, at least in terms of storing information, were just a fad, as we can use the entire internet as our second brain!
And, now, with the emergence of AI, we don't even really need to use our brains to think or create or imagine. ChatGPT and all the other billionaire owned technologies can do that for us. They even remember (and monitor) our conversations.
This is all wicked cool, right?
Well, as you, dear reader, might have subtly picked up here in today's newsletter, it's not really the data, but the act of remembering that fuels our first brain. Recent research has revealed the inclination to include AI in our thought processes actually makes us dumber.
Intuitively, this seems logical (if anything does these days).
When I was a kid, there were no apps, no email. If I wanted to stay in touch with someone, we exchanged phone numbers. It was just part of life. Those 10 digits grounded me to a context. I had to remember my phone number. It represented home.
Today, I don't got to remember shit.
So, I don't. And, I don't have to figure out things, like reading a map or writing a well-crafted cover letter or even creating a simple computer program. But, these things, and doing these activities, are what make me who I am.
I enjoy determining how to get around a place I've never been by using a diner placemat or a tri-fold brochure with a cartoon map on it. I can write a well-crafted letter and quickly create a computer program—all without asking ChatGPT.
Why should I?
When my kids were young and complained about not knowing how to do something, I would snidely retort: "What if you were stuck on a desert island? Could you do it then?" I wasn’t an ogre. I helped them. But, teach a person to fish…
Ultimately, with the arrival of AI agents, it probably won't be long before the AIs develop the initiative to ask questions and do all these things—leaving us humans out of the loop entirely.
Some (many?) will embrace this as they embrace the readily available false information surrounding us—it’s just easier than thinking for ourselves. It serves the people making money by selling you this stuff. We’re losing the ability to perform the smell test.
Personally, I fall back on Emerson’s words:
“Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains on the other.”
How many phone numbers can you recall? Does it matter?
Happy reading, happy writing, happy memorizing,
David