The competence roller coaster
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Every so often I start to think that maybe I’m actually pretty good at a thing, like teaching or coaching or writing books. I feel competent. And then, I don’t. It’s not because I have imposter syndrome, or the thing got harder, or I don’t know how to acknowledge my skills. Maybe it’s that competence is a non-linear journey.
I was reminded of this question about competence as I read the book I discussed last week, The Gap and the Gain. Yes, I thought the book was pretty bad, but somehow it addressed a lot of topics I want to think more about. In this case, the authors shared a model of competence that I first heard about in my coaching training, Noel Burch’s Conscious Competence Ladder.
The model proposes four stages of learning any new skill:
Unconsciously unskilled. Someone drags you to a yoga class for the first time and you don’t know any of the vocabulary, poses, or customs. You fall over six times.
Consciously unskilled. You’ve been knitting for a few months and have made your first scarf. As you look at a pattern for a sweater, you’re aware that there are many other knitting skills you need to acquire.
Consciously skilled. You make everyone’s favourite mac n’ cheese several times a year and know it’s pretty darn good. You still check the recipe and measure ingredients carefully each time you make it.
Unconsciously skilled. You learned to drive as a teenager and even though you don’t drive every day, you don’t have to consciously think about controlling the car, navigating your neighbourhood, or checking your mirrors.
The model suggests that with anything learn, we move from relative ignorance to (potentially) a state of intuitiveness, where things feel natural. Stage 4 doesn’t necessarily mean TOTAL MASTERY but it means you don’t think much about the basic actions that go into performing the task.
The seemingly discrete and linear phases of this ladder imply that with enough practice, you progress from one to the next. I think it’s closer to the truth, however, to say that we oscillate between these stages, especially when it comes to more complex tasks.
I often find myself slipping out of “unconscious competence” and back into “conscious competence.” Hell, sometimes all the way back to “conscious incompetence!” It’s frustrating to reach a point where things seem to come naturally, to flow, and then… the gears start to grind a little.
I’m always tempted to find a way to blame myself. Maybe I was overconfident. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I let my inner critic off her leash.
Maybe, though, it’s just a normal part of things. Sometimes we glide along, and sometimes we notice every step we take. Sometimes those steps feel weird and awkward. But we still know how to walk.
The “why” of all this is perhaps less important than, “what do these oscillations offer?”
A chance to rediscover what you really enjoy about a thing
The ability to fine-tune some of your skills
A moment of humility
A reminder of how far you’ve come
Insight into the nuances of the task
It’s also good to be reminded that there isn’t really much about life that’s linear at all. Despite our investment (indoctrination?) into progress narratives, the kind of straight-line progress we chase after just isn’t the norm. A lot of self help tries to convince us that improvement is a matter of taking one step at a time. Accumulate enough “steps” and you’ll reach your goal. Simple as.
The neat adding of steps rarely happens without setbacks. And even when a goal is reached, we might slip “backwards” and need to retrace our steps, or try a new path to get to where we were.
Backwards isn’t a very helpful way to think about it though. It seems to me that it’s not so much that we might lose some skill or competence, but that we change, and as a consequence our relationship to that skill changes, too.
This is fairly obvious when it comes to physical tasks: things we “mastered” to the level of unconscious skill become effortful as our bodies change. Simone Biles might still be able to do a cartwheel in her 90s, but she’ll probably be a lot more careful about it.
Maybe it’s similar with the less tangible skills. For example, as my relationship to teaching changes, or my way of thinking about it develops, my sense of competency might change. It’s not that it got harder or that I lost confidence. It’s more like I have to re-learn some things to see how they fit with a new approach or mindset.
As I get older, and generally try to be easier on myself (not an easy thing for a chronic overachiever) it’s nice to think about my changing competencies as a normal part of the journey, rather than a loss or a backwards move. I don’t really like roller coasters, but there’s not much fun in a straight line, either.
What I’m reading: The Ferryman, by Justin Cronin. I got totally sucked into his Passage trilogy… this one is a standalone novel, and quite different, but I’m enjoying it.
What I’m watching: Survival of the Thickest on Netflix. I love the portrayals of friendship, and of course I’m always here for cameos from Drag Race stars like Peppermint and Michelle Visage.
What I can’t stop thinking and laughing about: This piece by Rachel Handler on Aidan’s inexplicable jacket in the latest episode of And Just Like That S2.