You're Always Learning: The Unseen Art of Growth

We're All Learning, Even When We Don't Think We Are

Ever feel like you're not making progress, that you're just treading water in a sea of information? What if I told you that you're always learning, growing, and evolving, even when you don't realize it? In my years working in corporate learning and development, I've come to a simple but profound conclusion: people are always listening, learning, and growing. It might not be in the way you expect, but it's happening all the same.

The Unconventional Genius

To illustrate this, let's talk about my brother. He's a mechanical genius, a man who proudly professes he was lucky to make it through high school, while I went on to earn a doctorate. Academically, we are worlds apart. I remember watching him struggle with vocabulary as a kid; he'd get so frustrated he'd want to quit. It was terrifying to me, thinking I'd have to face the same challenge. Yet, I breezed through it. My brother claims he's only read two books in his life and hated both of them.

If you ask him about his "goals" or "aspirations," he'd laugh at your "fancy words." But ask him about his current projects, and he'll give you a detailed list: rebuilding an engine, remodeling a barn, or even fabricating a replacement part for an antique hay rake out of wood, a technique he'd seen or heard about from the early days of the Industrial Revolution. This is a man who can't stand reading, but he'll devour a mechanical manual or watch a plumbing tutorial on TV without a second thought.

Is he educated? Not in the traditional sense, but if I need advice on anything mechanical, he's the one I call. You don't invite him over to help you with a hands-on project—he'll take it over and get it done. He's an expert project manager and a meticulous mechanic who knows how to spot and eliminate unnecessary work. He can't be bothered with statistics, reading, or my field of learning and development. He thinks it's all "BS," yet he perfectly understands his own form of it. My brother, with his high school diploma and hands-on approach, and I, with my doctorate and academic background, are two sides of the same coin. We’re from the same genetic stock, but our environments have led us down very different paths. The key takeaway? He is always learning, just not in a classroom.

Learning How Not to Lead

I learned a similar lesson from a different experience. For years, I worked as a network administrator and then an IT manager under a series of what I can only describe as "incompetent" leaders. I was often the second-in-command, forced to implement processes that were destined to fail. They thought they were teaching me something, and in a way, they were. They taught me how not to lead.

When I finally moved to a new company, I came in with a machete. Overnight, I slashed 50-60% of the workload by eliminating pointless processes and unnecessary tracking. People were shocked. They had been doing these things for years out of habit. But within two weeks, attitudes improved, the environment became lighter, and productivity soared. My bosses, peers, and employees all loved the simplified, streamlined approach.

The reason I knew what to cut was because I had spent years watching every single mistake and idiotic process. I had seen what didn't work and knew exactly what to avoid. Those "incompetent" leaders were my greatest teachers. They showed me the complete opposite of what effective leadership looks like, and in doing so, they prepared me to be a better leader myself. I was constantly listening and watching, absorbing what not to do.

The Agricultural Anvil

Another example comes from my first job as an agricultural sales representative. I was visiting a large farm, and the owner and his hired hands were struggling to replace a cultivator shoe—a part used to turn the soil. The bolts had sheared off, and they were stuck. Most people would have had to take the whole machine back to the barn to use a torch, but I instantly recalled a technique I had learned from my brother.

He had taught me a simple method: use a couple of wood blocks, a punch, and a mallet to create a field-made anvil and drive the bolt out. I offered to help, and they looked at me, a salesman, with skepticism. I hit the punch six or seven times, and the bolt started to loosen. Their jaws dropped. A few more hits, and the shoe was off. I looked like a genius, and I was, for a moment. But the credit goes to my brother, who had taught me the simple physics of applying force in the right place.

My knowledge, born from watching my brother's hands-on expertise, earned me credibility and a reputation that helped my sales soar. I didn't have to reinvent the wheel; I just had to learn how my brother had done it and replicate that knowledge in a different setting.

Conclusion

So, what does this all mean for us? People are always listening, watching, learning, and growing. They may not be learning in the way you expect, but they are. As leaders and as individuals, we have a choice. We can either provide people with the channels and opportunities to grow and learn effectively, or we can force them to learn from our mistakes. The goal should be to immerse ourselves and others in information that makes us better, not just to survive the mistakes. We all have the potential to learn and grow, we just need to find our own way to do it.