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| Anonymous (PD) - Camille Flammarion, L'Atmosphère: Météorologie Populaire (Paris, 1888), pp. 163. Wood encraving recolourised. |
Polymathy often defies a clear definition, encompassing diverse types of thinking and learning that can vary dramatically from person to person. In this post, I’ll discuss my personal approach to learning and thinking, acknowledging that this may not align with how others—whether polymaths or not—experience their own intellectual journeys.
The Misconception of Joy in Polymathy
There’s a popular notion circulating today that polymathy is about “bringing together the fields that give you joy.” While this might be true for some, it doesn't reflect my experience or approach to learning. This viewpoint implies two things: that a polymath integrates different fields of knowledge, and that they do so because those fields bring personal satisfaction. Neither of these concepts, at least as commonly understood, applies to me.
Knowledge as an Object of Learning
Learning is fundamentally tied to memory, but for a polymath, it goes deeper—it’s also about tradition. When I say tradition, I’m referring to a continuous process where each new piece of knowledge builds on what came before, rather than existing as an isolated fragment. I don’t separate the world into discrete fields of knowledge, nor do I forget what I’ve learned.
Many people follow what I call the "advancement approach" to learning. They study to pass a test, to get certified, or to progress through an educational programme. This approach is result-oriented, focusing on achieving external recognition through standardised tests. But these tests don’t measure understanding—they can’t tell if someone truly grasps a concept or has simply memorised enough to pass (Brown et al., 2014). Whether by luck, rote memory, or partial comprehension, the outcome is the same: a certification that signifies little about actual mastery.
My approach to learning is entirely different. It’s not goal-oriented in the traditional sense. To be clear, I do set goals, but they’re often unrelated to acquiring specific knowledge. For instance, solving a practical problem may require learning something new, but the learning itself is not my end goal. What drives my learning is disturbance—a disruption in my mental framework when I encounter something I don’t fully understand. This disturbance compels me to re-establish coherence in my thinking.
Once I reconcile this disruption, the new knowledge integrates seamlessly into my worldview. It’s not categorised by discipline or field; it simply fits where it needs to, ready to be recalled whenever necessary.
Tradition and the Continuity of Learning
My learning is always connected to past knowledge. It doesn’t occur in isolated chunks or as part of predefined academic fields. I don’t structure my learning the way others might, with neatly boxed categories. Instead, it’s a continuous, evolving process that builds on everything I’ve previously learned. Could others adopt this method? Possibly, but it would require a fundamental shift in how they view knowledge acquisition.
Due to past challenges, I haven’t actively tried to teach this method to others. I may reconsider this in the future, but for now, I can only share my own experience.
Perception and Thought: A Multisensory Experience
People often describe thinking as occurring in images or words. As a multilingual person from birth, I cannot conceptualise how one might think in words. How would you choose which language to think in? Where would you store concepts? I know there’s research on this (Sacks, 2010), but I struggle to grasp it. In my experience, thinking doesn’t happen in words or images; it’s a multisensory process.
For example, when I’m in a familiar space, I don’t think in terms of “images” of the furniture around me or "labels" for the people I’m with. My understanding of my surroundings comes from a combination of sensory experiences—the specific sound and rhythm of leaves in the garden, the unique steps of each person, the distinct smell of a place. I know where I am without needing to see it.
To me, the world is communicative. It speaks through physical sensations—touch, sound, and space. Different social groups interact at varying distances and through different temporal patterns. For me, the world is a conversation between these sensory inputs and my own internal logic. Learning, then, is more than just acquiring facts; it is about becoming—my perception of the world at any given moment shapes who I am.
Embodied Learning: Being There
Learning, for me, is not about words or imagination. When I learn about a new place—like the open floor plan of a Google office or the ascent to Mount Himalaya—I am not simply “imagining” it. In that moment, I am there. The more deeply I learn, the more real the experience becomes. While this comes naturally to me, it can be taught. However, it requires a level of commitment that goes beyond conventional learning processes.
This ability to integrate knowledge from different fields is similar to how players in Minecraft combine blocks from various environments to build unique structures. My learning is not about expanding my knowledge but modifying and refining it, just as Minecraft players constantly tweak their creations within the game’s limited set of resources. My knowledge is limited only by what I can integrate into a coherent world that makes sense to me.
Joy and Learning: The Quest for Completeness
Does learning provide joy? For many people, learning is an obligation rather than a pleasure. They study because they have to—whether to advance in their careers or to avoid boredom (Wong, 2021b). Some people do learn for joy, though this is often tied to early experiences where learning provided some form of reward. Polymaths who appear to integrate multiple fields out of personal interest may, in fact, be doing so because they’ve learned to enjoy the process of mastering different domains.
For me, joy is not the primary driver of learning. Instead, learning is about achieving coherence and completeness in my understanding of the world. It’s not about acquiring more knowledge but about answering the fundamental question: who am I in relation to this new information? Learning, in this sense, is not an end but a process of becoming. As Heidegger (1962) and Laín Entralgo (1984) suggest, learning is a response to Otherness and a way to shape our identity in relation to the world.
The Role of Suffering in Learning
Learning is often viewed through the lens of joy, but it also involves suffering. Viktor Frankl (1946) argues that suffering gives us opportunities to find deeper meaning in life. Wong’s (2021b) suffering hypothesis complements Jonathan Haidt’s (2006) happiness hypothesis by suggesting that suffering and joy are two sides of the same existential challenge.
For me, learning involves confronting uncomfortable truths about myself and the world. This may not always be joyful, but it is essential for personal growth. Without suffering, we would miss the chance to integrate the darker aspects of our personality and make peace with our flaws. This integration is crucial for achieving both personal and societal harmony (Wong, 2021b).
Conclusion
Polymathy is not about finding joy in different fields but about creating coherence and completeness in our understanding of the world. My learning process is driven by the need to resolve disturbances in my thinking, not by the pursuit of joy. This approach shapes not only what I know but who I am.
References
Brown, P. C., Roediger, H. L., & McDaniel, M. A. (2014). Make it stick: The science of successful learning. Harvard University Press.
Frankl, V. E. (1946). Man's search for meaning. Beacon Press.
Haidt, J. (2006). The happiness hypothesis: Finding modern truth in ancient wisdom. Basic Books.
Heidegger, M. (1962). Being and time (J. Macquarrie & E. Robinson, Trans.). Harper & Row. (Original work published 1927)
Laín Entralgo, P. (1984). Antropología médica: Fundamentos de la medicina humanística. Editorial Revista de Occidente.
Sacks, O. (2010). The mind's eye. Knopf.
Wong, P. T. P. (2021b). The suffering hypothesis: Viktor Frankl’s spiritual remedies and recent developments. DrPaulWong.com. http://www.drpaulwong.com/the-suffering-hypothesis-viktor-frankls-spiritual-remedies-and-recent-developments/
SOBRENOSOTROS
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