Transcript
Edited for readability.
The role of cognition
On one side, let us say, there is knowledge of various kinds that we have. On the other side, we have behaviour.
Sometimes knowledge leads to behaviour, and sometimes behaviour leads to knowledge. Sometimes there is a break between knowledge and behaviour — one of the terms used for it is the “learning–doing gap.”
What cognition does is link knowledge and behaviour. Cognition is what you can call structural knowledge inside the human mind.
Cognition might reveal itself, for example, in the form of what people call mental models. It reveals itself in the axioms you hold in your thinking, in your assumptions.
Cognition is also there when you recognise something. You take some knowledge you already have, you take some behaviour or some sense perception of the outside world, and you match the two and conclude: “This is what it means.” So when I am trying to recognise something, there is cognition there.
Similarly, there is a mass of information in front of us, and it forms into some kind of picture, a whole, a pattern, that suddenly starts to mean something to us. That becomes sense-making — and sense-making, again, is a cognitive function.
Three ways of seeing learning
When I look at learning from the perspective of behaviour and information, learning takes the form of memory — the acquisition of information. When I see learning from the point of view of knowledge, learning takes the form of conceptual understanding.
But when I see learning from the point of view of cognition, learning has a totally different meaning, because it is both personal and impersonal. It ties together the knowledge that may be inside us, the behaviour being done, the actions, the sense-making — all of it gets tied up.
Cognition and learning
So cognition sits in a special place. It sits in the space that allows you to take information, take knowledge, take all these things, and bring out of them broad choices, decisions, recognition, new axioms, new conclusions about the way the world works. All of this sits in the realm of cognition.
Cognition drives everything
This cognition then drives behaviour. If I have concluded something, I behave according to that conclusion. If I hold an axiom, it starts shaping my thinking.
Not only that — if I have made sense of something in a particular way, or I have a mental model that sees the world in a particular way, it also filters information accordingly. It throws out information it considers irrelevant, and lets in only information that fits my mental models.
So cognition is very powerful, because once it sets into place, it drives thinking, it drives action, it drives everything.
Levels of cognition
Cognition operates at several levels. The deepest forms of cognition are those where we draw the structure of our identity: “Who am I? What do I stand for?” That too is cognition, because it is structural knowledge sitting inside you.
Similarly, there are the mental models and axioms we carry about the world. People are good. People are not good. People are trustworthy. People are not trustworthy. If I give, then people will take and no one will give back. If I give, people will give back. These are all axioms, structures and causal relationships that we have established as true, sitting inside our heads.
Who decides they are true? We ourselves. So it is our cognition: we have cognised the world thus.
Identities, mental models, recognition structures, ways of looking at and organising information and the world around us — all of this sits at several levels.
Why cognition both enables and prevents learning
You can see that the most effective and sustainable form of learning takes place when there is cognitive learning — because it shapes or reshapes your mind, and it remains there for a period of time. Cognitive learning, in that sense, has sustenance; it has some form of permanence.
That is both an extremely good thing and an extremely bad thing.
How is it good? Once I have held something to be true, it drives my actions. It frees me to deal with the information in the world around me.
The bad news is that the next time new information comes in that is contrary to it, the same cognition says: you can’t come in. So things continue as they are. Cognition also prevents learning. It has the power to prevent me from evolving, from learning, from appreciating things differently — because I have already cognised the world in one particular way.
That has many implications. The normal methods of learning then fail, because information acquisition assumes there is already an architecture of thought to support it. But if the very architecture of thought blocks the new information from coming in, learning will not take place. The mind becomes locked into a pattern of thought, and it blocks any way to change it at this level.
So cognition is both good and bad. It is good because it is so functionally powerful, useful and valuable. It is bad because it can be long-lasting. It is good because it is persistent knowledge — and bad because it is persistent knowledge. It is not quite permanent, but it is long-term knowledge.
This, by the way, is also the problem of mindset change. Mindsets represent the structure of cognition that now prevents further learning and perpetuates existing patterns of thought.
So that is the meaning and an exploration of the word “cognition.”
Defining disempowerment
What does empowerment mean?
Now let us understand the second word: empowerment.
Empowerment means “I have power — to act, to do, to bring about some change.” When I say “I am disempowered,” it means I do not have that power.
There are two kinds of power, and two kinds of powerlessness. In one, I am empowered or disempowered by the world around me. If a person is put in a cage or locked up in a jail, that person does not have the power to move around — he has been physically disempowered. If someone comes in acting violently and two people pin him down so he cannot move, he is being disempowered physically.
But what does it mean to be disempowered mentally, or psychologically? If I speak, and I believe — or I am told — that I am worthless, that my ideas are not worthwhile and not worth hearing, then I am disempowered psychologically. The next time, even before I have spoken, I am already in a psychological cage that says my words are worthless, my ideas are worthless, I am worthless.
So there is empowerment and disempowerment at a physical level, and there is empowerment and disempowerment at a mental or psychological level.
Cognitive disempowerment
“Psychological” is too vague a word. So let us make it more precise and ask: what do empowerment and disempowerment mean at a cognitive level?
It means I might have patterns of thought — structures of thought — that are fundamentally disempowering. For example: I am a victim of my circumstances. That is a disempowering thought. Others are responsible for the ills in which I am living. That thought renders me incapable of action, because I have started out believing that if others are responsible, and others are not going to allow anything to happen, then any action I take is worthless and valueless.
If I begin with the belief that my actions are worthless, there will be no energy in my actions. It is not a question of competence; it is a question of having the energy to act. I do not have the energy to act, the conviction to act, the intention to act — because I have begun with the belief that my actions are not worthwhile.
The student who doesn’t study
Let me give you a simple example. Suppose I believe that even if I study for the exam, I am not going to do well — I am going to do badly, come what may. Then I am cognitively disempowered from studying, because I have concluded that irrespective of what I do, I am not going to get marks. It stands to reason, then, that between studying and not studying I will decide not to study. It isn’t worthwhile; I am not going to get marks anyway. Why waste my time?
To an outsider who does not see this cognitive state, it seems puzzling: this person is not studying, even though if he studied he would get marks. But to the person inside, it is perfectly logical: “If I study, nothing is going to happen — so why should I study?”
Both are reasonable, but the assumptions are different; the axioms are different. The outsider is looking at it from the axiom that if there is effort, there will be results. This person starts from the axiom that even if there is effort, there is no result — so it is worth doing nothing.
So you can see that the structures of our thought, the axioms of our thinking, can disempower us — render us incapable of action — for perfectly logical reasons.
And as we discussed, these cognitive patterns persist. Let me not use the word “permanent,” but they are persistent. Even if there is evidence to the contrary, these persistent patterns block out the new information and continue with the older patterns of thought: “No, this is what is true.” So negative, persistent patterns of thought also prevent further learning.
If tomorrow that same student — who holds the axiom that studying makes no difference — got good marks with a little study, he or she would attribute the marks not to their own effort but to the paper being easy, or to other external circumstances. Even when they ought to take credit for their own action, they would not; they would assume the credit lies elsewhere, because it doesn’t match their basic belief that there is no correlation between effort and outcome.
Axioms in society
Is this unusual? The answer is no. Take organisations and institutions all over the world. There are many individuals with all kinds of axioms about how things work.
You have individuals who will say: It doesn’t matter. I am a nonentity in this organisation. My opinions don’t matter, my contributions don’t matter. It is a large, monolithic set-up with so many people working in it, so whether I contribute or not really doesn’t matter. The organisation will go on as it is, and my input is completely irrelevant to its destiny.
If that is my axiom, would I contribute? Why would I? I would say it doesn’t matter anyway. I might even be loyal to my organisation — and that is a beautiful thing. I might be interested in its welfare. Yet I might not contribute, simply because I don’t believe my contribution will make a difference. I am loyal for altogether different reasons; but as for my work, I know I’m not going to make any difference, so let me just watch on.
We do that with our country. We say, “Yes, I am loyal to India. I love India. I want India to do well.” But my actions have no relationship to India, because I am one out of 1.2 billion or however many people, and my actions are completely irrelevant. So how does it matter what I do?
You can see these actions in the world around you. And if you ask why people aren’t acting in a particular way, it is because there are axioms of thought making them behave in ways that are perfectly logical in their own minds — but which, at a collective level or to outsiders, are completely illogical.
Cognitive independence
Look at India as a country. For several hundred years it operated with the notion — and perhaps the physical reality — of being enslaved in several ways. But physical enslavement can result in mental enslavement.
So it is possible that we became independent 75 years ago, but that physical independence may not have resulted in cognitive independence: independence of thought, independence in our own axioms of thinking, independence in our own vision of life — a vision not shaped by the Western world, not shaped by existing patterns, and not shaped by people we believe are better placed to tell India what to do than we are. This kind of cognitive independence may be taking a little longer than physical independence.
In fact, the task before the nation now is cognitive independence. Independence in science. Independence in our methods of education. Cognitive independence in our own vision for ourselves as a nation, and in what we stand for. Our own sense of destiny.
We have to be free of existing axioms. We have to revisit every fundamental axiom of who we are and ask ourselves: what is the appropriate axiom we want to take up? Which axioms are disabling us, and can we replace them with enabling axioms about who we are?
Are we the creators of a new India, or are we simply victims of circumstances? Do we see ourselves as citizens building a whole country? Or do we see ourselves merely as political citizens of India — perhaps feeding off the country at one level, or feeling we need to escape to better lands to find a better future because this country cannot give us what we want? Or are we participants who sit back and say, “We may be political participants, but the truth is that it is they out there who are responsible for the ills” — they being the politicians, the government, the public servants, anybody at all?
These are the conditions in which we live. So for us, cognitive independence at a societal or national level means a new sense of destiny, invented by ourselves for ourselves. A vision for India invented by Indians for themselves. A vision of science that affirms and leverages our 5,000-year-old culture and builds from there. A vision of technology that looks at our needs and our society’s problems and builds from there. All of this is cognitive independence at a national level.
Cognitive empowerment in institutions
Within the country’s institutions, cognitive independence means having organisations and institutions that are willing to take pride in excellence. When there are a thousand or ten thousand people working in an organisation, and every one of them is contributing positively to the welfare of the organisation and of society, that too is a form of cognitive independence. That is its value.
If we had cognitive independence, cognitive strength, cognitive empowerment in our organisations, they would be unleashing the power of their people. They could unleash the power of the organisation to transform society.
Just imagine our banks — with more than one lakh branches across the country — and what they could do if their power were unleashed in every part of this country. Take government organisations and all the infrastructure they have set up. Every one of them has the power to transform the society around it.
And the root of that transformation is cognitive empowerment. Belief — not competence. Competence is adequate; perhaps more is needed, and skill development can continue. But the real problem is cognitive empowerment: the willingness to say I will make a difference. I can change things. I am not a victim. If I contribute, this is the effect. Widening my identity to include others. All of this is cognitive empowerment.
Beyond resources
So the goal ahead is cognitive empowerment, because cognitive empowerment will empower institutions and empower the country.
Thus far, we have assumed that empowerment had to come from resources. “We are a poor country, so we need money.” Go to organisations and the first thing they say is, “We need funding, we need resources.” For every problem, people say, “We need resources.”
But is the problem resources, or is it human beings? And within human beings, is the problem simply their number? Is it whether they are competent? Or is it whether they are willing to stand up and make a difference?
If that is where the problem lies, then that is the change that has to be brought about everywhere.
This is the meaning of cognitive empowerment. This is the impact of cognitive empowerment.