Maybe the combination of symbols could tell Luke to do some trivially easy thing, then ramp up the difficulty.
Maybe you should ask Luke whether he thinks that would have worked.
My guess is, that's exactly what the books he read, actually did.
Really, asking someone in that state to even stop reading long enough to answer some questions mentally, even without writing them down, is not going to work. You might be able to get some hurried answers, but not much deep thought. They're too excited about what else they might "learn" next.
I even know one guru who continually emphasizes how "it's not learning until your behavior changes"... and seen his audiences dutifully nod and write down this Great Insight... and then patiently wait for the next insight to be spoon-fed. ;-)
Actually, that particular guru is an interesting case in point: I found attending his workshops in person to be valuable, because they're structured in such a way that they more or less force you to actually do the written exercises, because two minutes later you're going to be showing your work to another audience member.
However, despite knowing that his exercises are valuable, I still find it difficult to make myself do them when merely watching a recording of one of his workshops. Either the recording seems too boring to pay attention in the first place, or the exercise seems boring compared to skipping forward to the next insight. I'm much more likely to skim quickly through the exercise in my head, and not write anything down, while convincing myself that I'll definitely get to it later.
But in person, there's nothing else to do but write something down, right then. Apparently, spending money on a conference, hotel, and airfare, plus blocking out the time away, equals a very effective precommitment device... one that books and recordings just can't match.
LW doesn't seem to have a discussion of the article Epiphany Addiction, by Chris at succeedsocially. First paragraph:
I like that article because it describes a dangerous failure mode of smart people. One example was the self-help blog of Phillip Eby (pjeby), where each new post seemed to bring new amazing insights, and after a while you became jaded. An even better, though controversial, example could be Eliezer's Sequences, if you view them as a series of epiphanies about AI research that didn't lead to much tangible progress. (Please don't make that statement the sole focus of discussion!)
The underlying problem seems to be that people get a rush of power from neat-sounding realizations, and mistake that feeling for actual power. I don't know any good remedy for that, but being aware of the problem could help.