Thinking Beyond Science

Have you ever sized up a situation and known exactly what to do, without overthinking it? That’s the magic of the recognition-primed decision (RPD) model, pioneered by researcher Gary Klein. Firefighters use it to act in blazing chaos, chess grandmasters rely on it for killer moves, and it pops up across expert domains. The process blends fast, automatic thinking—System 1, where associative memory spits out a tentative plan—with deliberate System 2 simulation, mentally testing if it’ll work.

Sometimes, intuition hits without fanfare: a gut unease in a sketchy spot or from a shady phrase, no clear memory of why. Hindsight labels it “intuition” if things go south. This ties straight to Pavlov’s dogs, salivating at a bell signaling food—a “learned hope.” Fears stick even faster, wiring us emotionally through quick conditioning.

True expertise, though, brews slowly. It’s not one skill but a vast library of miniskills, forged over grueling hours. Chess masters need about 10,000 hours—roughly six years at five hours daily—to glance at a board and grasp threats and defenses. They absorb thousands of piece configurations, like letters forming words. A beginner puzzles over letters; an expert reads whole clauses, even spotting and “pronouncing” new patterns on sight. Firefighting or pro basketball works the same: recurrent patterns become instinctive.

We’re confident when our mental story flows smoothly, no contradictions or rivals in sight. But ease doesn’t equal truth—the associative machine buries doubt, amplifying compatible ideas. So, when does intuition signal real skill versus an illusion? Two keys: a predictable environment with clear regularities, plus prolonged practice to learn them. Braking on curves nails this—varied bends teach precise timing and pressure, with instant feedback: smooth ride or fishtail punishment.

Enter the planning fallacy, just one flavor of our deep optimistic bias. We see the world as kinder, ourselves as superior, goals as doable. We overhype our forecasting, breeding overconfidence that sways decisions—sometimes a boon, sometimes a bust. Temperamental optimists? They’re wired for it, inheriting cheer, resilience, stronger immunity, better health habits, and longer lives. Wish it for your kids—they’re popular, bounce back from flops, and dodge depression.

Optimists dominate: inventors, entrepreneurs, leaders. They chase risks, score wins (and luck they underplay), and build empires. Small business founders out-sanguine mid-managers, their successes fueling ironclad self-belief, boosted by admirers. Hypothesis: those shaping our world are boldly optimistic and overconfident risk-takers.

Think you’re a good driver? Most say yes. Better than average? Trickier—folks dodge by comparing to a vague “average,” skipping real stats. Ask about tough tasks like chatting up strangers, and ratings plummet below average. We puff up where we do okay.

Experts admitting ignorance risk losing to cocky rivals who feign certainty. Rationality demands owning uncertainty, but in high stakes, it’s paralyzing. Clients crave conviction, so pretended knowledge often wins—especially when danger looms.

Intuition from practice trumps blind gut feels. Optimism propels progress but check it against reality. Next time your story coheres effortlessly, probe: practiced skill or cozy bias?

Source : Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

Goodreads : https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11468377-thinking-fast-and-slow

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