Something that's painfully understudied is how experts are more efficient than novices while achieving better results. I say understudied and not unstudied, because it's common knowledge that charging people for their time results in experts being paid less since they work faster, which is why experts charge more for their time.

This effect is understudied in the impact it has on novices entering a field. A Novice will start out being woefully inefficient, putting in incredible amounts of effort and running through all number of mental hoops in order to maintain
the growing pile of unmaintainable abstractions they've developed. An expert doesn't have to jump through these hoops. They can more clearly see the actual problem at hand and will more efficiently put their time and effort towards
making progress against the problem. In contrast, novices will spend more time battling problems they created for themselves. Let's explore this idea by looking at two characters entrapped in a maze, and how they go about escaping.

Stuck in a maze: Expert vs Novice

Imagine a world-class navigator being set in a maze. They come well prepared with compass and paper, and have previously escaped some of the most dastardly mazes designed by man. Also, imagine yourself. You're the Novice in this scenario. You didn't realise you were being thrown into a maze. You don't even know if the goal is to get out or to find the centre.

As you go deeper and deeper into the maze, you realise that you're helplessly lost. Through a miracle of literary convenience, your expert friend calls you up and offers advice: "As soon as you start, keep track of where you've been using your ball of twine. It'll help you keep track of the decisions you make".

You didn't realise the criticality of feline playthings, and so didn't bring a ball of twine. You also don't remember where you started. You ask your expert friend for advice on what to do, to which they respond "Oh I've got no idea. I never go anywhere without my ball of twine. You just shouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess in the first place."

Some of the trickiest tangles I've tackled haven't been because the core problem is difficult, but rather because I was helping someone with less experience, and they spent several hours getting themselves more and more tied up. Before asking for help, they made a wrong decision, which maybe solved their short term problems but shot them in the foot in the long term. This bad decision made other bad decisions more likely until they were helplessly stuck in a trap of their own making.

Often this trap is far trickier than anything an expert would let themselves get into. Novices, on the other hand, can easily make a sequence of bad decisions that result in an ever increasing cost of solving the problem at hand. Not only are you lost in the maze without your twine, but you also went in a mysterious cave that looked kinda interesting at first and now you're lost in the dark. Meanwhile, the world-class expert is happily skipping through the warm sunny parts of the maze, because they knew that the cave would eventually lead to a dead end.

I'd like to stress at this point that this is in no way the Novice's fault. They followed the same policy as any expert: "take best action available to you at the time". Telling a Novice to "just be better" is not constructive feedback. This feedback does not lead to them improving over time, since from the only perspective that matters in this scenario (the Novice's), they were taking the best action available to them. And if you're giving feedback that doesn't lead to improvement, what's the point of the feedback?

The Novice has a genius idea

Still lost in the maze, you keep walking. Your friend mentioned the ball of twine, and after thinking for a bit you realise your woollen jumper, if carefully dismantled, could be a good replacement. Dutifully and with a concrete objective, you sit down and begin to unravel your jumper. After an hour or so, you've got your ball of yarn. After some failed attempts at unspooling the yarn behind you, you realise one strand of yarn is hopelessly weak. You decide to braid the yarn, and sit down for another hour to do so. It's pretty boring, but you assume that this is just what solving mazes is all about.

A bit later, your expert friend calls you up and lambastes you for wasting time with this yarn business. "It was clearly never going to work" he says. He instructs you to use broken branches branches from the hedge that makes up the maze as a way of marking your path. You hadn't realised the maze was made of hedge until this point.
 

Novices often spend energy fixing things that are orthogonal to the actual problem they want to solve, whereas experts are able to better direct their energy towards the problems they want to solve. This leads to novices having an extremely distorted view of a field, because the problems they end up solving are both more difficult and less interesting than those being tackled by experts. Nobody wants to put more effort into figuring out a more boring problem.

The Novice's search strategy

Finally, with a means of marking the paths you've taken, you set out to traverse the maze. Or maybe to escape it, you're still not sure. You stride along, breaking and placing branches as you go. You're not really sure which paths are the best, so you mostly just pick at random.

For a Novice, the vast majority of decisions have to be made essentially randomly, with very little information going into the choice. If all decisions were sequential and did not depend on any other decision, a dedicated Novice could come up with a solution better than random chance after thinking hard about the decision. But the world we live in is fractal and complexly dependant; many decisions depend on other decisions in ways that a Novice has no idea about. Even a dedicated Novice will be confronted with situations in which they must make several inter-dependant decisions before they can get feedback on the efficacy of those decisions. The Novice is (at first) forced to make completely arbitrary choices and face the consequences. Hopefully they can learn which consequences were due to which decisions, but this isn't always feasible.

From the perspective of an expert, the decisions taken while solving a problem are often second nature, and yet are carefully crafted so as to avoid unnecessary trouble down the road. A Novice looking upon an expert's work would be hard-pressed to distinguish these few important decisions (based on years of hard work and study) from the myriad of far less important decisions (based largely on personal taste).

Novices don't even see the decision

You're breezing through a particularly long and straight bit of the maze when your expert friend calls you up once again. "Why didn't you take that right a few meters back?", they ask. There was none, you assert, and glancing behind you confirms this fact.

Just in case, you retrace your steps, and sure enough there's a sliver of a gap in the hedges which you suppose could be a path to take. It's terribly cramped and overgrown compared to the wide clean paths you've been taking so far, but it _is_ a path. Looking around carefully now, you realise the hedges are actually packed with cracks and gaps and thin spots. Who knows how many paths you've missed?

Sometimes the Novice doesn't even know that there's a decision to make. When the decision is pointed out by the friendly expert, the Novice can often either make the correct decision or appreciate the correct solution when it's shown to them. But the Novice _didn't even know there was a decision in the first place_. This makes it incredibly difficult for the ambitious Novice to make progress without outside help. They cannot just "check their work for mistakes", because for any substantial body of work the Novice likely wouldn't be able to point out half their decisions.

Experts can't explain their decisions

You squeeze through this gap in the hedge recommended by your expert friend. Before long, you come to a fork in the maze: one path leads left, the other right. The left path looks a bit wider and a bit brighter, but having learnt from your mistakes you decide to call up your expert friend to get their advice and learn from their wisdom. "The right path is better.", your friend declares. You ask for an explanation, but they are unable to give anything more specific than "The right path is a stronger option, it's clearly got the right look about it. There's no chance it'll let you down."

Frustrated at the lack of intelligible wisdom, you take the right path. And sure enough, it looks like it was the correct decision. The path clears up and starts to head towards the exist, as far as you can tell. But you still don't understand what your expert friend saw, and it seems like they don't understand what they saw either.

The expert's intuition is often formidable, but rarely comprehensible. This inability to clearly explain their decisions is what makes it so useful for novices to spend time with experts. Often there's an underlying pattern that the novice can pick up through careful observation, even if neither the expert nor the novice can properly articulate this pattern.

The Expert's ensemble

Your expert friend is chastising you for missing the obvious gap in the hedge, and for not realising you could climb over hedges, and for not bringing a hedge trimmer, and for a myriad of other choices that you made without even realising you had the option to do differently. As your eyes glaze over, you hear someone call to your friend through the phone. Turns out, your expert friend has expert friends of their own, and they're all helping each other! "I thought I was meant to figure it out on my own" you cry, but your friend asks whatever gave you that idea.

You ask how you too can get a network of peers who can help you through the maze. Your friend says to join some online chat rooms. Unfortunately for you, they're all speaking incomprehensible jargon or debating optimal twine spooling techniques.

Experts often have either a network of people, or (more frequently nowadays) know the online network of websites and usernames which can guide their thoughts. They can quickly distinguish useful insight from helplessly generic summaries, and don't have to spend much time looking for the information they're after. But a Novice has _no clue_ about how to distinguish the two, nor how to find communities who can help them effectively.

Escape 

Eventually, you finish the maze. Not wanting to repeat the experience of being a complete Novice, you dedicate yourself to learning more and to not falling ill to the traps of being a Novice. But how, exactly, should you do that?

As a Novice, you _need_ to find a sympathetic expert on your side to help you out and to whom you can ask all questions, regardless of how trivial the questions might be. A replacement for this is finding a lot of experts so you can spread the load amongst them. You can go very far online nowadays, and even more so with AI tools. But many of the above trappings that novice's succumb to do not magically disintegrate because you have access to the internet or to a chatbot. You still don't know how to recognise subtle decisions. You still don't know how to distinguish good ideas from bad. You still don't know how to avoid long-term cascades due to bad choices. The internet helps, for sure, but having someone by your side is monumentally better.

One thing that can be tricky to convey to your friendly expert, is that sometimes you just need to be able to show them what you're doing without any specific question in mind. I've often found that I can feel uneasy about what I'm doing, and then talking with an expert friend will quickly surface that I've made some error that will cause pain later. Having someone who's happy to spend time "just talking", without any specific goal to solve, will go a long way.

In the workplace, this style of "just talking" interactions between novices and experts is critical for knowledge transfer and training. But novices rarely have a voice with key decision makers, and so promoting these interactions is often neglected. It is not sufficient to instruct senior employees to answer the newcomer's questions, since the vast majority of learning comes from a novice watching how the expert plies their skills, and not from direction questions and answers. What makes this scenario even trickier is that the expert will likely think "just talking" interactions are basically worthless, but answering concrete questions _feel_ much more useful. The novice, on the other hand, could likely discover answers to concrete questions on their own, given enough time. But developing the intuitions that come through while an expert is "just talking" with a novice is incredibly valuable to the novice. This explains the difficulty of training new employees when all your experts are working remotely, as remote work practically eliminates any sort of casual unguided "water-cooler" interaction.

Something you can do independently (and possibly it's best done without expert supervision), is exploration of the field. You know nothing, and have no biases about what may or may not be useful. _Any_ time you come across something that feels like it has some depth to it, such as a well-written essay series or a deep technical dive, you need to invest heavily into it. As a novice, your one advantage is that _everything_ is new and nobody expects you to be fast. Because of this, you can afford to spend the time to learn as much as possible.

I honestly don't think it's possible to overdo this. Spending a week exploring some specific arcana of your field is probably going to pay dividends, because all of a sudden you're expert-level in this (_tiny_) aspect of the field. You can go head-to-head with an expert, since they last read about that weird subdomain 5 years ago. Don't study the "common" things, but go all-in on the niche pockets. The common things are common enough that you'll learn them through osmosis regardless of what your main activity is. But the niche things require active study, and ignoring the niches is how you remain a novice.

Amongst all of this, the novice needs courage (to make decisions without knowing the consequences) and confidence (so that they whole-heartedly commit to their decisions and grant them the greatest chance of success). These traits are not trivial, and confidence can easily be crushed by a snide comment from an expert. I don't want to imagine how many promising novices have been spurned by unimpressive experts. In this way, advice from a sour-hearted expert is worse than no expert advice at all due to the risk of destroying the novice's confidence.

Closing thoughts

The lack of consistent empathy between experts and novices would suggest that, despite feeling easy, it is in fact difficult.

In the extreme case, this lack of empathy leads to experts deriding the work of novices as not having the prestige/class/taste/status expressed so deftly by the work of the experts.

This is self-fulfilling: novices will either conform to the expert's sense of aesthetics, dismiss the field of study as "not for them", or (in rare cases) work incredibly hard to prove the experts wrong after all. In this last case, the Novice becomes an expert anyway. Experts tend to have an aesthetic preference towards technically challenging work rather than
simple-but-interesting work.

Originally posted on my blog. Thanks to Daniël Goosen, Paul Hoft von Hoesslin, Dr Lisa Kane, and Tegan Green, and the AI Safety Cape Town writing group chat for reviewing drafts of this essay.