I’ve always been a fairly self-motivated student. I would show up to class, do the readings, and engage with the material. I was usually too shy to participate in class discussions much, and often didn’t have a ton of insightful things to say anyways, but I avidly listened and took notes. There were times, especially in undergrad, when I wondered whether it was worth it to be a in formal program of study. With enough self-organization and discipline, I thought, you could theoretically just work through the textbooks and even write essays on your own. Granted, you wouldn’t receive feedback, but you’d still get a substantial proportion of the benefits of the course.

Signalling effects aside, one of the catches is that I probably wouldn’t have followed through on this plan. Even if I had taken the time to map out a detailed curriculum, it’s doubtful that I would have exercised the discipline necessary to see it through. When I look back on the pace we were made to keep in some of my courses, I have to concede that I wouldn’t have managed to maintain anywhere near the same level of productivity independently. For example, I recently started an online coding course, and I’ve since failed miserably to do it even a couple of hours per week. So there is undeniably a benefit in the structure and accountability of formal instruction.

Not long ago, I also attended a seminar. It was a free, open seminar. Like many of the other attendees, I had already consumed a lot of the content published by the company running it, from YouTube videos to blog posts. As I was waiting in line to get in, I started talking with someone who had been to multiple past events. When I asked how they had been, he replied that they were all pretty much the same. Why, I asked myself, was this person, and many of the other repeat attendees, here? It was unlikely he would learn anything new.

As I mulled it over, I realized that the benefits of instruction could be divided into two broad kinds: information and motivation. Deadlines and accountability encourage the student to assimilate information. The structured nature of formal instruction is, however, complemented by an emotional dimension characterized predominately by inspiration. Personal interaction with the teacher and fellow students galvanizes you to learn. You witness authentic passion for the material, you identify with common struggles, and you see what results persistent application can bring. Suddenly, you’re burning with desire and teeming with dreams. You tap into the sentimental side of the subject.

If mastery of a subject is conceived of as a fire, then instruction could be thought of as comprising both logs and a spark. Information is the substance that actually underpins mastery, but without a flame it’s inert, just a pile of dead stuff taking up space in the the attic of your mind. You need to ignite it. There are therefore two reasons to turn to instruction: you lack knowledge, or you’re discouraged and unmotivated. It could be that the initial wave of enthusiasm has passed, and you’re looking to find it again. Very often, like me and my neighbour at this seminar, a person knows everything that he needs to without actually applying it, and turns to a professional to (re)kindle the spark that will light him up again.