How to Think

Managing brain resources in an age of complexity.

When I applied for my faculty job at the MIT Media Lab, I had to write a teaching
statement. One of the things I proposed was to teach a class called “How to
Think,” which would focus on how to be creative, thoughtful, and powerful in a
world where problems are extremely complex, targets are continuously moving,
and our brains often seem like nodes of enormous networks that constantly
reconfigure. In the process of thinking about this, I composed 10 rules, which I
sometimes share with students. I’ve listed them here, followed by some
practical advice on implementation.

1. Synthesize new ideas constantly. Never read passively. Annotate, model,

think, and synthesize while you read, even when you’re reading what you
conceive to be introductory stuff. That way, you will always aim towards
understanding things at a resolution fine enough for you to be creative.

2. Learn how to learn (rapidly). One of the most important talents for the 21st
century is the ability to learn almost anything instantly, so cultivate this talent.
Be able to rapidly prototype ideas. Know how your brain works. (I often need a
20-minute power nap after loading a lot into my brain, followed by half a cup of
coffee. Knowing how my brain operates enables me to use it well.)

3. Work backward from your goal. Or else you may never get there. If you
work forward, you may invent something profound–or you might not. If you work
backward, then you have at least directed your efforts at something important to
you.

4. Always have a long-term plan. Even if you change it every day. The act of
making the plan alone is worth it. And even if you revise it often, you’re
guaranteed to be learning something.

5. Make contingency maps. Draw all the things you need to do on a big piece
of paper, and find out which things depend on other things. Then, find the things
that are not dependent on anything but have the most dependents, and finish
them first.

6. Collaborate.

7. Make your mistakes quickly. You may mess things up on the first try, but
do it fast, and then move on. Document what led to the error so that you learn
what to recognize, and then move on. Get the mistakes out of the way. As
Shakespeare put it, “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft
might win, by fearing to attempt.”

8. As you develop skills, write up best-practices protocols. That way, when

you return to something you’ve done, you can make it routine. Instinctualize
conscious control.
9. Document everything obsessively. If you don’t record it, it may never have
an impact on the world. Much of creativity is learning how to see things
properly. Most profound scientific discoveries are surprises. But if you don’t
document and digest every observation and learn to trust your eyes, then you
will not know when you have seen a surprise.

10. Keep it simple. If it looks like something hard to engineer, it probably is. If
you can spend two days thinking of ways to make it 10 times simpler, do it. It
will work better, be more reliable, and have a bigger impact on the world. And
learn, if only to know what has failed before. Remember the old saying, “Six
months in the lab can save an afternoon in the library.”

Two practical notes. The first is in the arena of time management. I really like
what I calllogarithmic time planning, in which events that are close at hand
are scheduled with finer resolution than events that are far off. For example,
things that happen tomorrow should be scheduled down to the minute, things
that happen next week should be scheduled down to the hour, and things that
happen next year should be scheduled down to the day. Why do all calendar
programs force you to pick the exact minute something happens when you are
trying to schedule it a year out? I just use a word processor to schedule all my
events, tasks, and commitments, with resolution fading away the farther I look
into the future. (It would be nice, though, to have a software tool that would
gently help you make the schedule higher-resolution as time passes…)

The second practical note: I find it really useful to write and draw while talking
with someone, composing conversation summaries on pieces of paper or
pages of notepads. I often use plenty of color annotation to highlight salient
points. At the end of the conversation, I digitally photograph the piece of paper
so that I capture the entire flow of the conversation and the thoughts that
emerged. The person I’ve conversed with usually gets to keep the original piece
of paper, and the digital photograph is uploaded to my computer for keyword
tagging and archiving. This way I can call up all the images, sketches, ideas,
references, and action items from a brief note that I took during a five-minute
meeting at a coffee shop years ago–at a touch, on my laptop. With 10-
megapixel cameras costing just over $100, you can easily capture a dozen full
pages in a single shot, in just a second.
Cite as: Boyden, E. S. “How to Think.” Ed Boyden’s Blog. Technology Review. 11/13/07.
(
http://www.technologyreview.com/blog/boyden/21925/).
Thinking About A Puzzle
by Allen Rabinovich

I wrote these notes to remind myself how to solve puzzles. The ideas recited here were
actually tested in battle — at least by me — and what’s perhaps even more important, is that
there were times when I forgot them, and later regretted it.

I’ve tried to organize these in order by use, starting with what I think a puzzle constitutes, and
continuing on through the steps that go into solving it. At the end, I’ve included some less
connected, random ideas.

For starters, what is a puzzle?

A puzzle, in essence, is a problem. A problem starts with given conditions and asks you to
derive a particular result. Finding the path from what’s given to what you are being asked for is
problem solving, an ability driven by the highest functions of the human brain. (side note: did
you know that “solve” means almost the same thing as “dissolve”? Both derive from Latin
solvere, which stands for “to unfasten”). What’s even cooler is that problem solving is also a
problem (“Given a problem, how do you solve it?”)—and that’s the one we want to look at
here.

What’s special about a puzzle, as opposed to any old problem?

Well, a few things:

1. Minimalism. A puzzle is like a good boss: it doesn’t tell you what to do (unless it’s a duck
konundrum). Most problems we encounter on the daily basis have predefined sets of steps
that are almost guaranteed to lead to a solution (those steps were not always there: they were
found by problem solvers who came before us). A puzzle is more like a research problem:
there may be a few obvious steps you can take (if you have a crossword, solve it!), but the full
path to the solution is still unwritten (and won’t be for months after the hunt ends!)

2. Obscurity of data. A puzzle is also like a car salesman: it’s hiding something from you. In
some cases, getting to the hidden information is straightforward (this is what’s referred to as
“data mining”: find the names of people whose photos appear in the puzzle; fill in the blanks in
lines of song lyrics). In other cases, extracting the necessary data is a riddle on its own (You get
a photo. What do you look for? The content depicted? CMYK values? Don’t ask me, I am just a
set of notes.)

3. Human design. A puzzle creator is a human: just like you. They have similar notions of
beauty and elegance, appreciation of rhymes in puzzle structure, cultural backgrounds, and,
very importantly, similar constraints. Remembering that every puzzle has an author is crucial
— I’ll talk about this further down.

So where do I start?
Before you can solve the problem that is your puzzle, you need to establish what’s given to
you. As we just explained, what’s given is not likely to be given for free — you have to extract
it. Here are some thoughts on data extraction:

1. A puzzle always comes to you on a medium. Look carefully and start by concentrating on the
medium that carries the puzzle data. Is it a web page? A piece of paper? A disk? A plaster
skull? A mysterious black box? Every medium has interesting properties that need to be
explored. A web page has a source file. An image, in addition to its content, has multiple ways
of representing its pixels. A sound may have some meta-information associated with it; it also
has a graphical representation.

2. The data presented to you has a structure. Mindfully establish what it is. Do you have three
columns of numbers? Do you have a 19x19 grid? Do you have pairs of something? Start
thinking about what’s commonly associated with a particular structure. A 19x19 grid may be a
game of Go. A set of binary data could be ASCII, or Morse, or a picture if you squint at it. The
initial structure may not mean much, or it may mean everything. As you get “first hunch”
ideas, write them down. “First glance” ideas are often good — you may want to give them a
chance later. I’ll discuss structure some more, when we get to analyzing the data.

3. Do things that are straightforward first. If there is a set of word clues, solve them. If there
are snippets of music, identify them.

4. Always be on the lookout not only for what’s there, but also for what is not. An ordinary
looking paragraph may have missing letters that spell a word. A web page may have hidden
text that completely changes the puzzle. A street-grid based game of chess might be missing a
side street, in which case certain moves may be disallowed. Even things that look perfectly
ordinary might be hiding something. “WISE” could be telling you to replace “W” with “E”;
“MORE” could be suggesting that the letter you are looking for is either “M” or “E”.

5. In the same vein, take clues from strangeness. Strange things are usually a good sign that
there’s treachery afoot. Are there strange words in otherwise regular sentences? Is the
grammar awkward? Are there strange line breaks? Our minds are very good about detecting
strangeness, so be vigilant and don’t throw away any suspicions.

6. Treat everything as data. The title of the puzzle is important. The flavor text—even more so.
The fact that there are thumbnails leading to full images is also a potentially valuable piece of
information. Even things that seem like errors could be important (unless they are actual
errors, which are possible, but hopefully rare.)

7. Carefully organize all the data you find. Use spreadsheets, graph paper, magnets on a fridge,
whatever it takes. If you have a sloppy handwriting, type it up, or let someone else write it
down. This is so serious you cannot afford to forget it. Often just carefully organizing the data
will make the path to the solution absolutely transparent.

8. Obscurity is a possibility. If you look at a piece of data, and have no idea what to do with it, it
may just be you. If 5, 10, 15 people looked at it and had the same response, you may be
dealing with something very obscure. Don’t just Google it. Yahoo it, Bing it, Ask.com it. Look
for it in books that are very old. Ask your parents. Ask people who watch a lot of TV, and those
who don’t watch it at all. Ask people of a different nationality, gender, age, ethnicity, and even
sexual orientation (I once drafted a puzzle based on styles of Cher’s wigs; the poor souls who
had to solve it took hours mining for data; I know at least 10 very gay people who could have
cracked the whole thing in under a minute. She wears the shiny red one only for “Take Me
Home”. Duh.) Ask John Smith or Jane Doe or Ben Bitdiddle. If they don’t know, you are fucked,
but it’ll just make you feel better about your not knowing.

9. Treat the puzzle like a lemon. Keep squeezing it for data, then leave it alone for a bit, then
come back and squeeze some more. You want to get every drop out.

10. If you are anywhere near a meta, look for missing pieces. What you have may simply be
insufficient to get the data—so always keep in mind that there are other pieces either already
found or waiting to be found. If you got numbers that look like FM frequencies, someone
better remember that as a result of solving another puzzle, you got an FM radio. If you don’t,
this may cost you a victory (true story).

I think I have all the data I can possibly get out of this thing, neatly arranged and prepared.
What do I do next?

You analyze what you have and look for paths to the solution. Herein lies the heart of the
dragon: the most interesting and groovy part of the puzzle. There isn’t a single strategy to
approach this step, but here are some ideas and common points to keep in mind:

1. Patterns and structure. There is that word again—structure. To produce an answer, your
data needs to be massaged and manipulated, until it spells out that magic word that clearly
wants to be called in. The data frequently contains many hints on how to proceed, and pattern
recognition is something we are good at, so you and puzzles make a great match. Ask yourself:

a. What is the relationship between individual elements in my data set? Do they have
something in common? Is there something unique about each? Now ask the same question
pairwise, triplewise, etc.

b. How can I group the data? Are there two or three-dimensional structures? Are there pairs of
things arranged around a circle? 2x3 rectangles? Does the data contain any obvious
delimiters?

c. How can I arrange the data? Alphabetically? Numerically? By color? By age?

d. Are there overlapping/hidden patterns? Say you have chess figures, but there are 26 of
them left, so maybe they just represent letters of the alphabet.

e. Are there any “fractal” structures? If you have a puzzle where the key to data extraction was
finding a list of singers from names of songs, and that list spelled out the name of a song, the
answer better be the name of the artist.

f. Is there uniqueness? Does this maze have just one way to get through it? Is there only one
way to play this game of Scrabble?
2. Always ask: “What data hasn’t been used yet?” In more than one case, this question helped
me when I was pretty stuck.At the point when you are asking that question, some piece of
data that wasn’t useful at the start could have easily been slightly forgotten—this will help you
shake up the sand box and bring what you need to the surface.

3. Understand constraints. Data can be constrained by many different parameters, and it’s
important to understand what those parameters are. Try to think about the data in terms of
how it can conceivably be used. Do you have images of items? The names of those items, as
well as their positions in the images could matter. Did you have seven snippets of song lyrics
that mentioned colors? You can probably use these to arrange something else — but that’s
about it. Also consider which constraints are important. If something is alphabetized, then the
current order probably doesn’t matter; however, there may be an ordering based on some
other aspect of your data. There exist other constraints: impossibility, for example. If you have
a big batch of Morse data without delimiters, it’s practically impossible to decode it. Either you
are missing delimiters, or you are not looking at Morse.

4. Think like the puzzle author. I find this technique very useful. When I am a little perplexed
about a puzzle, I take a step back, and think: how would I write this puzzle? What’s the great
idea that everyone on my writing team thought was good enough to go into the final set?
Where is the elegant bit? What about the complex part? Is there something that may seem
obvious to me and my team, but not to others? How can I provide clues to the solver to lead
them to solution, but gently, without prodding?

Most of these are things you will be thinking about anyway, but actually asking yourself how
you would do them gets your gears going faster.

5.Keep all ideas on the table. Let’s say you had a good idea on how to go about the puzzle, but
it doesn’t seem to pan out. That’s okay. Put it aside and try something else, but don’t throw it
away. Log all ideas where everyone solving the puzzle can see them (e.g., the puzzle server!) If
something else works, fine; but if you will go through many ideas and give up, keeping track of
what you did would prove extremely useful, both for you and for someone else. In fact, things
you’ve tried can lead you or someone else to the solution—sometimes all it takes is a brain
that had a good night’s sleep.

Never let anyone tell you that “this just won’t work”. Pessimists tend to give up too early, but
just saying something doesn’t make it true. It’s good to work in a team and listen to your
teammates, but always use your own brain.

6. Is this a puzzle of some sort? (© Meepa) — look for humor. Sometimes the puzzle writer just
really wants you to have fun. Don’t overcomplicate things without need. If you got
“Rethponth/Tholution” as your data, you need to chuckle and call in the ANTHER.

7. Account for stupidity. There are three possible sources of stupidity:

a. Your own. CHECK YOUR WORK. A good friend of mine once said that if he were to write a
guide on how to solve puzzles, that’s all he would say. So, let me say that again:

CHECK YOUR WORK.

Mistakes happen: it’s not a big deal. Anyone can misread, mistype, look up the wrong pope or
see a cat and think they saw a tiger. It’s not stupid to make mistakes, but it IS stupid not to go
back and check for them.

Of course, it helps not to make them in the first place. It helps to:

- Type rather than write (or write very neatly),

- Tabulate what you can,

- Use graph paper,

- Crosscheck multiple sources.

b. Another solver’s. Sometimes I do something stupid, get stuck on a puzzle, and then lose
interest. Then, someone else takes over, and here’s what they should do: first, check my work.
Then look at what I’ve already done and ask: “What did Allen do wrong? Oh wait, that’s not a
‘WOW’, that’s ‘MOM’ upside down. Your mom…”

c. The author’s. Sometimes, a puzzle is just badly written. It happens, especially if the author is
a beginner, or has written too many puzzles and ran out of ideas. Here, it helps to go back to
that advice about thinking like an author, and add this question: “If I were running out of ideas,
what stupid thing could I invent that would have something to do with this data?” Try to do
things that are painfully non-obvious: read in the direction nobody thought is reasonable to
read in, remove all vowels, type the whole thing into Google, read the author’s blog, or, if this
puzzle is really in the gutters, anagram.

8. Have fun. If you are not having fun with a puzzle, then move to a different one. If you are
tired, take a break, or get sleep. But do not let yourself dread what you are doing. You win
Mystery Hunt by having fun; if you are not having fun, you are not playing by the rules.