You know how I keep circling back to the idea that memory is malleable?
Think of a story from your own childhood. Every time you remember what happened, you’re going to do your best to reconstruct how that scene was in your mind’s eye. And, every time you tell the tale, a small detail might be different, or even completely inverted.
Memory isn’t anything like a photograph or video recording of an event. Keep that childhood memory conjured for a moment. Can you vividly see the objects around you, like you could if you were looking at a picture? If you’re anything like me, your brain uses little placeholders everywhere, and only focuses on the main event right in front of you.
This is still very much the case, but at the same time, some folks have a much, much more vivid memory than I have. My friend Tim and I have known each other for nearly 40 years, and he can remember the number of the bus we rode, among dozens of other specific details. While Tim probably can’t see a vivid MP4 of these events, he can certainly recall more specifics than I can.
What can I say? I’ve been choked a lot over the years.
In all seriousness, I certainly have been choked many times, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. In fact, I have a much better idea of the difference between the way I remember things and the way someone like Tim does.
I’ve come to realize that Tim specializes in one type of memory, while I specialize in another. Tim’s episodic memory is off the charts, while my semantic memory is reasonably effective (and where most of my focus goes).
This distinction came to my attention as a result of my own personal deep dive into my past. I wanted to understand my own biases and preconceived notions much better, since my life experience is the lens through which I see the world. This isn’t about Four Touchdowns in a Single Game, but instead a much more productive lookback—and it has yielded some interesting results.
The good news is that I can recreate episodes by talking to Tim, reading my old notes, watching video of me competing from more than two decades ago (surreal if you have never done this), and so on. It requires vigor, but perhaps I’m recreating episodes of experience, for I can recall certain details when triggered (like that we rode Bus 47, but only now that Tim reminded me).
The less good news (though I’m really not sure it’s all bad) is that I don’t store those vivid episodes in my mind, so I can’t recall so many of the specifics right now. I think that has a lot to do with that semantic memory I mentioned earlier (remember?).
The etymology on this one is interesting. Semantic derives from the original Greek word sēma, which meant sign in the broadest sense of the word. I’m talking about a signal that has some kind of important symbolic meaning.
With semantic memory, you tend to placehold the details in the interest of taking away the summary of what happened and why. Actually, you might not even remember what happened in any particular detail, but you do remember that you’re supposed to behave in a different way going forward.
I think that’s the crux of it: I have deprioritized holding onto specific details in the interest of having more actionable takeaways. I can’t say whether I’ve steadily programmed myself to be this way due to a lifetime of entrepreneurial ventures and organizational leadership, or whether I was already this way, so I gravitated toward that less structured lifestyle at an early age.
Which came first: the goat or the ovum?
How about your own memory—do you tend toward episodic or semantic memory? Can you recall those vivid details, or is it more about actionable takeaways?
Memory isn’t always verbal or intellectual though. Yes, we often can misremember details, but do we misremember feelings? That’s a harder one to parse. I think the visceral response is likely the more reliable one.
I get complemented on having a good memory, but the stuff I know best, even though it helps me in my work, is fairly obscure by most peoples' standards...