Exploring the Depths of Thought: Hierarchical Organization and Chunking

2 months ago

Okay family, we have encountered the notion of hierarchical organization while discussing the role of chunking in memory.

Source

A similar principle governs directed thinking.
Let's consider the example we used in yesterday's blog-isode.

To the taxi driver, the idea "take the crosstown express" is a sort of master plan that implies various subsidiary actions:

entering from the appropriate one - way street,
maneuvering out of the truck lane,
following the signs to the airport exit,

and so on .

To the experienced driver all of these substeps require no further thought, because they are a consequence of hierarchical organization which resembles that of a disciplined army.

The colonel who orders his regiment to attack does not have to specify the detailed commands his second lieutenants issue to their platoons. Given the order from above, the subcommands follow.

The ability to subsume many details under a larger chunk is one of the crucial features of directed activity, including the internal activity we call thinking.

We will see later on in our blog-isodes that much of the difference between master and apprentice is in the degree to which subcomponents of the activity have been chunked hierarchically.

To the master , the substeps have become automatic.

Now the role of chunking in directed activity is particularly clear when we study how people become proficient at various skills such as typing, driving a car, or playing golf.

In all such activities, becoming skillful depends upon a qualitative change in how the task is performed.

The first experimental study in this area was done about ninety years ago by Bryan and Harter. These psychologists were trying to discover how telegraph operators master their trade.

Their subjects were Western Union apprentices whose progress at sending and receiving Morse code messages was charted over a period of about forty weeks.

One student's improvement at receiving, measured in letters per minute was plotted. What was interesting about this learning curve was it's shape.

Following an initial rise, the curve flattens into a plateau, after which it may rise again until it reaches another plateau, and so on.

Made by me using a sketch app.

According to Bryan and Harter, such plateaus are an indication that the learner gradually transforms his task.

At first he merely tracks individual letters, getting progressively faster in doing so as practice proceeds.

But with time , the effective units he deals with become larger and larger:

first syllables and words, then several words at a time, then simple phrases.

The plateau represents the best the learner can do given a unit of a lower level, say letters. Once this lower level is completely mastered, a higher level of organization or a larger chunk is possible and the learning curve shoots up once more.

Super Interesting Right?

Now similar effects are observed in the acquisition of many other skills, such as typing, or driving a car, or playing golf, which we mentioned earlier on.

In all such activities, becoming skillful involves a qualitative change in how the task is performed.

To the novice, typing proceeds letter by letter.
To the expert, the proper units are much larger, including familiar letter groupings, words, and occasionally phrases.

Similarly, the novice driver laboriously struggles to harmonize clutch, gas pedal, steering wheel, and brake, to the considerable terror of innocent bystanders.

After a while, those movements come quite routinely and are subsumed under much higher, though perhaps equally dangerous chunks of behavior, like overtaking another car.

An even simpler example is dressing.

To the small child, every article, lesson and YouTube video of clothing represents a major intellectual challenge. She beams with pride when she finally gets the knack of tying her shoelaces.

To an adult the unit is "getting dressed" and its various components are almost completely submerged within the larger chunk. We decide to dress and before we know it we are almost fully clothed.

Somehow our shoes get laced but we never notice, unless the laces
break.

The Bus Stops Here for today:

Thank you, friends, for staying with me through these blogisodes. Your thoughts and opinions are always welcome and appreciated. I'd be happy to hear them. We will build on this in tomorrow's blogisode. Until then, stay safe, friends.♥️