28 August 2018

Questioning Marginal Actions in Context

I've been on Goodreads for nearly three years, and for most of that time I've been very diligent about registering the precise edition of the books I'm reading and closely tracking which page I'm on. This has seemed like that natural way to use the platform—I've found it genuinely strange that some of my friends use the default edition of every book and never update their progress within them.

Recently, however, I decided to stop tracking my internal progress. There were a few reasons for this decision. Partly, my desire for legibility is probably in the 99th percentile of Goodreads users, and so the tools aren't really there for progress tracking at the level of fidelity I prefer. Many books are missing editions, and there's huge inconsistencies between publishers on how to assign and measure page numbers. At a certain point, it's easier to chose the closest available edition and stop worrying about whether I should use the textual or PDF page number.1

The other reason is inconvenience. Logging my current page after reading is trivially easy in itself, presuming a good network connection. Once I'm done, though, I'm using my phone. I've found that this dramatically increases the likelihood of distracted Internet browsing, especially when I'm reading before bed. In practice, this negates much of the benefit from reading at night, and frequently cuts into my designated sleeping time. This is naturally sub-optimal, and an easily avoidable cost.

For the time being, I'm going to continue tracking my progress in academic books.2 Everything else, though, gets simple updates. I'll even wait till the next morning if I finish a book before bed—Goodreads' expectation that I'll want to rate and review the book immediately after shelving it as "Read" is honestly quite annoying and probably reduces my likelihood of reviewing it in a timely fashion (it's now an additional task instead of a single, larger task).

Considered by itself, the cost of logging my reading progress is totally worth the value it provides in satisfying my desire for legibility. When I consider it in the greater context of daily routine, I find that that benefit is not worth the additional costs in the form of sleep-schedule disruption and additional mental load.

I'm toying with another decision in this same vein, which is the actual reason for writing this post. Since an unpleasant exam experience a few years ago, I've been using Khan Academy to review basic math and science material for the purpose of maintaining my scholastic edge. This probably helped me during the last two years of my undergraduate career.

Now that I've graduated it's more of a hindrance than a help. Not because taking a few minutes to review basic material is not worth it, but because it necessitates certain changes to how I go about my day. In particular, one of my favorite features of Khan Academy is the daily streak counter.3 However, logging in every day means booting up my computer every morning, because I'm quite likely to forget if I don't do it in the morning. This isn't a huge burden in itself, but has a history of diverting me from whatever tasks I need to be doing because now I'm on the Internet.

To be clear, listening to Sal explain multivariable calculus or the history of the universe over breakfast is not a bad thing in itself. But that time would be just as educational reading a book, which would probably better serve my long-term goals. For a period shortly after I resumed using Khan Academy, I did read at breakfast most weekend mornings, and did Khan Academy in the afternoon.

For the time being, I plan to continue using Khan Academy, but I'll probably make the shift once I'm living in a space of my own. The current set-up of my parents' household makes it much more valuable to break my fast in isolation than it was in my apartment (cf. shifting registers). I also lost my last streak on graduation day, so maintaining the streak is an easy way to track how long I've been unemployed. Once that's changed, however, such a measure won't really be necessary.

Hopefully these two examples illustrate my broader point about marginal actions—namely, that things which are good in themselves may be outweighed by the costs of integrating them into one's life. I think that many people could be a lot happier if they tried to predict such consequences before agreeing to new hobbies and obligations. With a little practice and self-honestly, it's not that hard to see the downsides in advance.



1Physical books are more difficult than PDF ebooks, which are more difficult than Kindle ebooks. (Kindle will give you a percentage estimate, avoiding the page number problem entirely.) With physical books, front matter may also be included in the page count. Given that that's one of the indicators I use to determine which edition I'm reading, it can get quite confusing. (No, I don't go so far as counting the actual pages. I make an educated guess and get on with reading.)

2That said, I make relatively small progress compared to the book length on a typical day, and so it might be awhile before I finish Introduction to Flight. I might decide against tracking whichever book I choose to read next.

3This was also one of the reasons why visiting my parents during school was dangerous—the disruption to my routine made me lose some very long streaks.