Family Photo:
Climb

Last week, we visited the duck park.

It's not called the duck park...the park is named after the lake. But we didn't go to visit the lake, we went to visit the ducks. It should be called the duck park.

The duck park has ducks, and a lake, and trees, and big open spaces, and a playground with whatever that thing in the picture above is.

It provided lots of opportunities for climbing: We climbed down the muddy banks to visit the ducks; we climbed up trees growing alongside the water; we climbed across the playground's floating quidditch-rings(?).

Watching the boys climb, it occurs to me that climbing isn't a natural ability—it's a skill improved with practice. Well, it's at least a nature/nurture sort of thing...longer limbs clearly help with climbing, the activity favors certain body-types, but it definitely requires experience.

I spent more of my childhood climbing than Calvin and Lawrence do. I bet it correlates with spending so much time unsupervised...and that's probably my generation's version of 'walking to school in the snow, up-hill both ways'.

I remember climbing neighbor's fences, gates, monkey bars, and trees at the park. I remember getting scratches and splinters on my hands and scuffed knees. I remember my joints hurting when I fell from too high up.

On our walks, we sometimes pass the same trees I used to climb as a kid. Calvin and Lawrence aren't naturally drawn to climb them. I don't know if it's just because the trees are bigger now, or maybe it's our different nurturing.

I like watching Calvin and Lawrence climb. I want to encourage them to do it more. Even, and especially when it results in scrapes and splinters.

In Tyler Cowen's book about talent, he talks about climbing the right hierarchies. We have skills and abilities that we can apply to climb and excel in different domains. The domains where we choose to apply ourselves to matter a great deal.

Tyler's personal example of this is that he was a good chess player as a child. Continuing to play as a teen, he realized (1) the top of the chess hierarchy wasn't where he wanted to end up and (2) he wasn't a great chess player so he wasn't likely to end up there anyways.

He chose to play a different game, which seems to have worked out for him.

The point isn't that he chose not to climb. Tyler is one of the most prolific readers/writers/thinkers I know of. He devotes himself to climbing everyday. He just chooses to climb a Tyler Cowen hierarchy (economics, cultures, intellectual interests) instead of a chess hierarchy.

Dad Jokes:
Climb The Patriarchy

Source: ClickHole

Highlights:
Climb The Right Hierarchies

Talent by Tyler Cowen and Daniel Gross

Which useful hierarchy are they actually climbing?

Knowing how to perceive and climb the right hierarchies is one of the most stringent but also most universal tests available. It requires emotional self-regulation, perceptiveness, ambition, vision, proper sequencing, and enough order in one’s activities to actually get somewhere. Whenever you see signs that a candidate has this skill, look much more closely.

Principles by Nabeel Qureshi

There are some people who, after you talk to them, you feel more energized and you want to conquer the world or climb a mountain or something. They’re rare but they exist. Go find them and make friends with them.

Climbing the wrong hill by Chris Dixon

A classic problem in computer science is hill climbing. Imagine you are dropped at a random spot on a hilly terrain, where you can only see a few feet in each direction (assume it’s foggy or something). The goal is to get to the highest hill.

Consider the simplest algorithm. At any given moment, take a step in the direction that takes you higher. The risk with this method is if you happen to start near the lower hill, you’ll end up at the top of that lower hill, not the top of the tallest hill. A more sophisticated version of this algorithm adds some randomness into your walk. You start out with lots of randomness and reduce the amount of randomness over time. This gives you a better chance of meandering near the bigger hill before you start your focused, non-random climb.

The Tyranny of Convenience by Tim Wu

Today’s cult of convenience fails to acknowledge that difficulty is a constitutive feature of human experience. Convenience is all destination and no journey. But climbing a mountain is different from taking the tram to the top, even if you end up at the same place. We are becoming people who care mainly or only about outcomes. We are at risk of making most of our life experiences a series of trolley rides.

Akin's Laws of Spacecraft Design by Dave Akins

You can't get to the moon by climbing successively taller trees.

The Long Night of the Soul by Jonathan Tjarks

Most Americans spend so much time striving, trying to be successful, trying to climb further up the ladder. Trying to achieve. Trying to give our lives meaning. It all fades away in that moment, when all you are left to grapple with is what you really believe about life and death.

It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you have done, or how much medical care your money can buy. We all have to face that moment. It’s the only moment when every person on Earth is truly equal. We come into this world with nothing and leave it the same way.