Experimental

So, Polymaths are open-minded, curious, and a little fearless. They can’t be defined easily, and they like it that way.

Another element of the polymath worldview that bears looking at is what can only be called an “experimental mindset.” There’s a reason so many famous polymaths throughout history have been involved in some way or another with the “hard sciences.” There’s something about the scientific method that captures and formalizes a polymath’s natural curiosity. Scientific experiments asks questions such as:

“How does the world actually work? Why did this thing behave this way and not some other way? How can I look more closely at it? What happens if I do this and what does this show me about this weird thing I’m trying to learn about?”

Though scientific thinking may come more naturally to some people than others, there are always ways to encourage and cultivate this ability. It only requires a subtle but important shift in thinking: don’t just assume something, test it out for real. Everyone always says such-and-so is the case, but do you have evidence? You don’t know how a new plan or idea will pan out—so why not test it?

Experimentation is something that’s a little easier to understand in terms of actual physics or chemistry, but in reality, there are countless real-world benefits to conducting experiments in every area of life. One benefit is that, by thinking about practical implementation, you take any hypothetical “one day” ideas and force them into the present, without perfectionism preventing them from ever amounting to anything.

Waiting for the perfect time or perfect opportunity often means you never act or learn anything new—but if you just try something, test it out or give it a spin even though it’s not perfect yet, you’ll advance more than if you’d dawdled and procrastinated.

By conducting experiments, you give yourself access to what all scientists want: quality data. You can talk hypothetically for years and never have anything tangible to show for it. That’s because trying things out for real gives you information you can actually use.

Experimentation offers you the opportunity to try something different, and see how it goes. When you frame your personal development, challenges or goals as experiments, you take the pressure off while simultaneously getting you acting sooner. Many of us live with so many unchallenged assumptions that we could be free of if only we gave ourselves the chance to test something better.

Experimentation is a window for change. When you try something different, you are saying to the world: “I’m open-minded and curious as to the outcome. This may lead to something new and better, who knows!” Have you met older people who talk wistfully about all the things they could have done in their youth but didn’t? When you experiment, you don’t wonder how things could have turned out—you do them, so you know. Consequently, you open up a whole new vista of choice and potential change for yourself.

The word “experiment” implies something formal, rigorous, and lab-based. But you can carry out informal experiments all the time, on your own terms. If you find yourself procrastinating, try on the curious polymath scientist’s attitude for size: become curious, and commit only to testing something out. What would happen if you tried X or Y? It’s not the end of the world—only a form of asking questions, when it comes down to it. Take up a new hobby or habit for thirty days. Eat something new even if you have a suspicion you won’t like it. Say “yes” even though you’re a bit apprehensive.

Kicking yourself out of mundane day-to-day life and ordinary ruts and habits with experiments means opening a little window wide enough to ask, What if I did something different? You might find yourself convinced after the experiment of a certain course of action’s value, or prove to yourself what a bad idea it would have been without going all-in.

Seeing tangible results to a mini experiment gives you a sense of agency over your world. You can ask questions, get answers and feedback, and ask better questions next time round. In other words, you can grow and learn.

Finally, if you want to make the spirit of experimental thinking a reality in your life, you need to lay the groundwork to make that possible. How? By encouraging an open sense of safety around experimentation. You need to feel able to fail without disastrous consequences or pressures.

Like creativity, curiosity cannot thrive in a hostile or risky atmosphere. If you perceive threat, your mind is likely to dwell on an attitude of conservative survival rather than expansive exploring and generous creativity. If you want to follow the polymath example, make room in your life to play, to explore, to ask questions—without judgment from an inner critic or fears that you have to be perfect or else.

Start by changing your very definition of failure. It doesn’t make sense to be squeamish about failure—in fact, expect that it will and does happen, and is merely par for the course.

Instead of thinking that failure is humiliating, or proof that you’re doing something wrong or even worse, that you’re wrong, frame it as a necessary part of learning and growing. Learn to respect failure as part of the process, rather than a distraction from it. The experimental mindset, above all else, is the commitment to forever being in experiment: you try something, you see the results, you adjust, you try again. Repeat until the day you die.

What’s more, when you can center passion, curiosity and resilience against change and “failure,” something else starts to happen. Your mind slowly switches from the end point to the process itself. You begin to enjoy the path toward finding knowledge, not merely the prize of achievement at the end. What many polymaths do without being taught is focus on “process, not outcomes.” They create for the joy of creating. Solve problems because they relish the experience of working through them.

With time, the diligent effort to think experimentally can be internalized and become a joyous flow in the moment—with you continually updating and reevaluating as you go. In other words, learning and evolving becomes second nature. You do it for fun! Focus on the process, and you almost aren’t bothered by the outcome—even if it is considered a “failure.” When you maintain an experimental, open-minded attitude, you always win, no matter what your outcomes.

Beginner

The mindset of a beginner—even to the point of considering yourself a novice or amateur in something you’ve been familiar with for years—is extremely beneficial in helping you view the world as a learning grounds to continually develop your self and embrace the need for mental flexibility. By definition, any beginner is experimenting with something new and is also attempting to be open-minded, no matter the motivation.

Polymaths might seem to be multifaceted experts, but there’s a problem with that perspective. A common misconception about being an “expert”—even among experts—is that it implies you don’t have to learn anything anymore. You’ve reached the fullest extent of knowledge possible in a given situation, and any suggestion that you could still learn more is almost insulting. You think—or feel—that you’ve already transcended all limitations and that there’s nowhere to go but down.

However, ideally, there’s not much difference between a beginner’s mindset and an expert’s. That’s because when someone decides they want to become an expert on any subject, the first thing they have to accept is that they will never stop learning about that subject. Long after they’ve established themselves as an authority, they will still be learning and discovering just how much they still don’t know. A true expert never stops wanting to fill in those gaps. The expert and the beginner therefore share an openness to new knowledge and insight.

The beginner’s mindset is drawn from the Zen Buddhist concept Shoshin, described as “having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even when studying at an advanced level, just as a beginner in that subject would.”

Every time you come across a new or even a familiar situation, no matter how shopworn or streetwise you think you are, reorient yourself to experiencing it as a beginner. Release all of your preconceived notions or expectations about the experience. Treat it with curiosity and a sense of wonder, as if you were seeing it for the first time.

As a quick illustration, imagine you see a herd of zebras outside of your bedroom window—hopefully a novel situation for you. Once you get over your initial shock, what are your initial observations and questions?

Does this situation remind you of something you’re already familiar with or have seen in a movie, perhaps? You’d try to make sense of it all and construct a narrative to understand it. What happened beforehand, and what will happen after? What details are surprising or downright odd when you think beyond first glance? You’d certainly focus on questions of “why” and “how.” You would probably also be overwhelmed with sensation and stimuli. You’d have many more questions than answers, and you’d be fixated on trying to figure out the logistics and probabilities of such an occasion.

In other words, you’re approaching this herd of zebras with a sense of wonder and openness. On the other hand, looking outside and seeing an errant bird or squirrel certainly won’t evoke the same sense of interest or curiosity.

Now let’s take another example of learning how to play a new instrument. What questions would you ask? Where would you even start? You wouldn’t know what is and isn’t important, so everything would seem significant at first. You’d probably be curious as to the limits of the instrument—first in how to not break it, and then in its overall capabilities. You’d be filled with wonder and also caution for fear of making an error or breaking it. Again, you’d have so many questions, and the answers you receive wouldn’t begin to scratch the surface. You won’t forget the immediate impression the instrument makes on you for a very long time.

Those are the underpinnings of the beginner mindset. When you reprogram your mind to a blank slate and act as if you truly have no knowledge about something, you’ll engage in extensive, curious questioning, and knowledge will come far easier than in acting like you already have the answers.

It should be emphasized that the polymath beginner’s mindset empowers the ability to ask dumb questions. So-called experts rely on assumptions and their own experiences, often without further investigation. When you feel comfortable asking dumb questions, nothing is left up to assumptions and chance, and everything is out in the open and clarified. Experts and polymaths can sometimes have blind spots because of patterns they’re familiar with from other fields, but those may not always apply in novel situations.

You can approach both new and familiar situations with this same principle. Next time you’re driving a car, try noticing the things you would automatically do otherwise and say them out loud to yourself. Along with that, focus on what you sense when you’re behind the wheel but have long since stopped paying attention to: the ridges in the steering wheel, the glow of the dashboard odometer, or the sound of the air-conditioner. Even these crushingly insignificant details could unlock and reveal some new element or impression that you’ve never experienced before.

Overall, the beginner’s mindset requires slowing down, setting aside preconceived notions, and paying attention to what you’ve ignored for a long time.

Belief.

Belief may seem simplistic, but it is not something that everyone possesses.

Polymaths, whether through sheer belief or ignorance of the obstacles in their way, believe that with time, effort, and energy, they will eventually reach their solution or goal. Often this journey will involve gaining depth of knowledge and becoming the proverbial pi-shape. And with learning, improving, or achieving any goal, whether you believe you can or cannot, you will end up being correct.

To illustrate, we turn to British runner Sir Roger Bannister. The name Roger Bannister may not be familiar to you unless you’re a track and field fan or a historian of athletics.

In: 1954

One complete mile is four laps around a standard track. This means to break the four-minute threshold, a runner would need a pace of, at most, sixty seconds per lap—something that was thought to be impossible. The whole idea that a human being could run a mile in under four minutes was considered a fantasy, and even track experts predicted that humans would never achieve it. You have to remember that this was decades ago, when modern competitive athletics were still in their nascent stage—nothing close to the training, nutrition, or attention we give them today. These athletes were competing using methods that are absolutely prehistoric in comparison to modern techniques.

the first modern Olympics in: 1896

We had come so far, there had to be a limit, and we seemed to have hit it. Of course, similar notions of limits of human capabilities have existed in more modern times, such as the ten-second barrier for the 100-meter dash. For comparison’s sake, the world record for the mile as of 2020 is 3:43.13, held by Hicham El Guerrouj of Morocco.

At the: 1952

All the while a doctor-in-training, Bannister began in earnest to attempt breaking the threshold in 1954. He accomplished the feat on May 6 by 0.6 seconds in a time of 3:59.4. People were in disbelief, and he was revered as superhuman. For his efforts, he was knighted in 1975 and enjoyed a long life representing British athletic interests both domestically and internationally. Again, he accomplished this all while he was a practicing doctor and neurologist.

Here’s where belief truly comes into the story of Sir Roger Bannister and the four-minute mile. Within two months of his breaking the four-minute mark, an Australian runner named John Landy broke both the four-minute mark and Bannister’s world record. The following year, three other runners also broke the four-minute mark. The next decade saw over a dozen people cross the four-minute mark that had stymied runners for years.

Such is the power of belief. People have preconceptions about what is possible and what is out of their reach. But most of the time, these ideas simply limit them. They allow themselves to be disenfranchised by what they perceive to be possible or not, what they perceive they are capable of or not, and what they believe they can and can’t be.

Without belief, you are putting an arbitrary limit on yourself. You sabotage yourself and may never even get started.

In the months following Bannister’s achievement, nothing about those other four runners changed physically. They didn’t magically grow winged feet or use performance-enhancing drugs as today’s athletes might. They didn’t alter their training habits or regimens. All that conceivably could have changed was their mindset of belief: they were certain the four-minute threshold could be beaten, and they were going to do it! That was the only element that shifted.

Roger Bannister redefined what was possible and instilled others with belief. If Bannister had lacked belief that his goal was achievable, he would have been happy with a time of 4:01 and then lived with regret for the rest of his life when someone else like John Landy came along and was first to break the tape in under four minutes.

Polymaths believe they can become experts, they believe they can excel, and they believe that what they wish to achieve is within reach—in fact, it is just out of reach, which keeps them powerfully motivated and striving for more. They believe that obstacles can be overcome, and that they can persevere no matter how tough those barriers are. They believe that failure and struggle are pitstops along the way.