Why Use Mental Models? (Or, How To Live A Life You Always Enjoy)

Because our brains are wired for the natural world of 10,000 years ago.

Since then, we’ve discovered more effective ways to navigate the world.

Yet, we have to consciously choose to navigate the world in these more effective ways; hence, mental models.

For example.

Most people assume that being themselves and being liked by other people are opposing goals.

Consider integer thinking (-3, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, 3).

Western Europeans thought the idea was “absurd” until about 300 years ago.

Now, we use it everywhere.

But that means that it’s not “natural” to think in these terms (our wetware isn’t wired to perceive the world in these ways).

We see this in ratings: we give something a 1 to 10 rating, or 1 to 5 stars.

Consider that a 1-star rating is terrible, no good, wouldn’t visit again, while a 5-star rating is excellent, couldn’t have been better.

Often when we’re young, our brains note this interesting phenomenon: we can be ourselves, or we can “fit a mold” that doesn’t feel like who we are.

Our default model turns it into a star rating for authenticity vs. being fake.

Fitting the mold is 1 star, and being completely ourselves is 5 stars.

Our default model tells us we have to choose being ourself (5 stars), or being liked by others (1 star).

But consider integer thinking as a mental model.

If we use this mental model, it might look like this:

-5: Something everyone else likes and I hate. +5: Something only I like, but nobody else does.

But wait, what does that make zero?

Well, if the integer line represents “positive experience”, then: 0: Something both everyone else likes and I like.

Experientially, we know this. Ella Fitzgerald is considered, almost universally, a good singer. Being fit is considered, almost universally, a physically attractive trait. In every reality, people like pizza. jk.

In this mental model, something that is popular and that you dislike isn’t 1 star, it’s something like -4 stars.

Also in this model, 4 stars might be something I like, and only 100 other people in the world like it, too. While 1 star is something that I like that 80% of people also like.

So if we use our default model, we think we have to choose between pleasing others vs. living authentically ourselves.

If we use the integer model, another reality becomes possible: you can always live a life you enjoy.

How?

By never being in the negative.

If you want to get along with everybody (0), engage in things that everyone likes and you like.

If you want to find your tribe, engage in things that are +3 and +4 stars to you.

If you want to be a true artist and not care what anyone else thinks, go for +5 stars only.

But. You never need to engage in the negative stars.

Because the lowest you’ll go is the overlap between universally enjoyable and enjoyable to you.

Which means, you would live a life you always enjoy.

Comedians and Entrepreneurs (and Pixar too)

Most people think of comedy as a performing art.

But consider the process:

  1. Think up something you think would be funny
  2. Tell the joke to an audience and get feedback
  3. Incorporate feedback to either scrap the joke or make it better.

Contrast this with what Clark Beckham describes as the process of art: having a clear vision, and then building the skills to express it so that you feel what comes out is true to your vision.

An artist would say whatever is in them, even if others don’t think its funny.

A comedian is more like a software developer building features for an audience.

Get feedback, tweak, deliver, tweak again. And once every part is working, ship it as a new product (a new comedy special).

Pixar does the same thing.

Like for Toy Story 3:

  1. First draft of script; shoot, edit, and produce actual animation of it
  2. Screen it (to a small group) and get feedback from the audience
  3. Repeat this process 7 to 8 times, until the final piece gets the reaction they desire.

Comedy (and the Pixar process) isn’t really a performing art. It’s a lot more like performing entrepreneurship.

What is AI's taste like?

The other day, I gave AI (grok) an excerpt from John Steinbeck.

It rated it a 6 out of 10 in terms of writing.

Steinbeck is a Nobel Prize, Pulitzer Prize, and National Book Award winner.

Initially, the AI thought that I had submitted my own writing.

But that’s besides the point.

(Even after, this it said 6 out of 10 is what you would expect from a high school level student).

Taste is subjective.

It’s okay that AI gave Nobel/Pulitzer/National Award-level writing a 6 out of 10.

Just realize, it may not have the same taste as you do.

The Art of Writing Dialogue

One of the sub-arts of fiction writing is dialogue.

The art of dialogue is often confused with the art of character (what happens between the quotations).

I mean, specifically, how as an author you artfully frame the dialogue.

A few examples:

  1. Naked: “Let’s go to the movies.” “Yes.”
  2. Saidism: “Let’s go to the movies,” he said. “Yes,” she said.
  3. Adjectival comments: “Let’s go to the movies,” he offered. “Yes,” she sighed.
  4. Tom Swifties: “Let’s go to to the movies,” he said insightfully. “Yes,” she said affirmatively.
  5. Action tags: Tom stopped walking and turned to her. “Let’s go to the movies.” She almost bumped into him out of surprise. “Yes.”
  6. Body language: Tom’s hands trembled. “Let’s go to the movies.” Marie looked down, pulled her hair back behind her ear, and looked up. “Yes.”
  7. Microexpressions: A smile pulled at Tom’s lips. “Let’s go to the movies.” Marie raised her eyebrows. “Yes.”
  8. Eyes: Tom couldn’t stop blinking. “Let’s go to the movies.” Marie’s eyes widened. “Yes.”

I like action tags and body language.

Some people like saidism, or plain naked dialogue.

There’s no right answer. That’s what makes it art.

Innovations of Jazz (the enjoyable, rhythmic remixing of things that feel like home)

Jazz was, once upon a time, 4 things:

  1. Improvisation (the creation)
  2. The Blues (the content)
  3. Swing Rhythm (the pulse)
  4. Joy (the feeling)

Innovating jazz expanded one of those scopes.

No improvisation? That’s just classic swing (Frank Sinatra, Big Bands).

I different sort of Blues? Other base music with deep comfort, familiarity, and meaning? That’s world jazz (Hiromi Uehara, Jorge Luis Pacheco, Tigran Hamasayan).

No swing rhythm? That’s Rockabilly and Rock n' Roll, R&B and Modern Gospel.

Swapping out the feeling of joy? That’s cool jazz, modal jazz, smooth jazz, hard bop and free jazz.

Jazz isn’t only what you make it. But most modern forms of music have, at least, a little jazz in them.

Abstractions of Jazz

“Profoundly naive; unimaginably wise. They were spectacular. Everything I’d hope to find in the system…biodigital jazz, man.” — Kevin Flynn

Wynton Marsalis defined jazz as improvisation, the blues, and swing. But what does that mean, really?

Improvisation is spontaneous creation. Or, as the old saying goes, “composition is slow improvisation, and improvisation is fast composition.”

Blues is a feeling. Deeply emotional, deeply comforting. Everyone has their own set of the blues.

Swing is a type of rhythm.

So jazz can be any creative remixing, of deeply familiar and deeply emotional content, done with a consistent poetic rhythm, with an emotional tone of joy.

In that sense, anything can be jazz. If you play it right.

Innovations of Jazz (or, Jazz throughout the ages)

Jazz was, once upon a time, 4 things:

  1. Improvisation (the creation)
  2. The Blues (the content)
  3. Swing Rhythm (the pulse)
  4. Joy (the feeling)

Innovating jazz expanded one of those scopes.

No improvisation? That’s just classic swing (Frank Sinatra, Big Bands).

I different sort of Blues? Other base music with deep comfort, familiarity, and meaning? That’s world jazz (Hiromi Uehara, Jorge Luis Pacheco, Tigran Hamasayan).

No swing rhythm? That’s Rockabilly and Rock n' Roll, R&B and Modern Gospel.

Swapping out the feeling of joy? That’s cool jazz, modal jazz, smooth jazz, hard bop and free jazz.

Jazz isn’t only what you make it. But most modern forms of music have, at least, a little jazz in them.

Finding Flow Like Jazz Musicians

Jazz improvisation is not a monolith.

If you want to improvise, you have multiple methodologies. A few:

  • Call-and-response
  • Guide-tone method
  • Goal-tone method
  • Vertical improvisation
  • Horizontal improvisation
  • Motivic development
  • Licks, riffs, quotes
  • Patterns
  • Bebop

I think that which method you gravitate towards tells you something about yourself.

That would mean the contrapositive is true, too.

Do you like using what you already know? You might like vertical or horizontal improvisation (scales and arpeggios, the stuff you already practice every day.)

Do you like to repeat the same idea over and over, with variation? You might like patterns (pentatonic), or perhaps even motivic development.

Do you know where you want to end your lines and phrases? Perhaps try the guide-tone or goal-tone methods.

Do you like to compose and polish small bits of brilliance, then show it off? You might like licks, riffs, and quotes.

Do you like the feeling and flow of poetry, or moment-by-moment decision-making? You might like call-and-response, or bebop.

An idea for finding flow: figure out which you can practice, for hours on end, that brings you joy.

Improv, Via Negativa

“Okay, but what is Improv really?”

In terms of creativity, it’s more useful to describe what it isn’t.

Consider a jazz saxophonist soloing over Giant Steps.

The architecture of the song is AABA. You don’t want to change that. You want it to stay the same. So that’s not where the improv lives.

The design of the playing (tone, timbre, instrument technique) is unique to the player. You don’t want to, on some notes sound like John Coltrane and on others sound like Charlie Parker. You want to maintain your sound. So the improv doesn’t live there.

What does change are the notes.

So every time you play Giant Steps, the architecture stays the same: that’s the song.

Your “sound” stays the same: that’s your style.

But the notes change. And that’s the improv.

Improv, Via Negativa

“Okay, but what is Improv really?”

In terms of creativity, it’s more useful to describe what it isn’t.

Consider a jazz saxophonist soloing over Giant Steps.

The architecture of the song is AABA. You don’t want to change that. You want it to stay the same. So that’s not where the improv lives.

The design of the playing (tone, timbre, instrument technique) is unique to the player. You don’t want to, on some notes sound like John Coltrane and on others sound like Charlie Parker. You want to maintain your sound. So the improv doesn’t live there.

What does change are the notes.

So every time you play Giant Steps, the architecture stays the same: that’s the song.

Your “sound” stays the same: that’s your style.

But the notes change. And that’s the improv.