The Curse of Knowledge
Why experts often fail at teaching beginners
My parents possess home videos showing me as a three-year-old riding a two-wheeler. I have watched all these videos, yet I have no memory of learning how to ride. Therefore, I have been riding a two-wheeler since before I bothered to log memories.
As a teenager, I visited a family friend specifically to teach their 11-year-old son, Marty, to ride a bike. As I jogged beside Marty, holding his bike's seat post, it was apparent he lacked any instinct for keeping the bike upright. As I reached for an explanation to help him along, I realized I had almost no idea how to purposely make a bicycle stay upright.
I knew that at some point during toddlerhood, I figured out how to keep a bicycle upright through trial and error. I knew that as my father gradually raised my training wheels further off the ground, my brain subconsciously built a model for counter steering and balancing. But here was Marty, already 11, and I had to teach him to ride a bike before his friends found out. In a moment of inspiration, I advised him to "point the front wheel in the direction the bike is leaning."
Remarkably, this worked. My hold on Marty's seat post gradually lessened until I could let go for brief periods. Within an hour, he was riding independently. While Marty was undoubtedly proud of himself, the experience may have had an even more profound effect on me. That day marked the first time I thought deeply about the mechanics of cycling.