Forgettable Things

After spending decades in the HDD industry, I came to believe that even the slightest loss of stored data was so catastrophic as to justify a hurried team meeting and a frantic search - using the latest high-tech tools - for the root cause. I never hesitated to buy extra storage for my own personal data so that I could always have a backup. Computer memory stores data as a string of 1’s and 0’s, typically represented by either tiny, magnetized regions on a surface, or as electrical charges on floating gate transistors.   Storage integrity is affected by things like temperature, humidity, and mechanical shock. The physics is straightforward, but the possibilities for failure are many.

Of late, I have begun to ponder memory loss of a different kind. It seems that if you sometimes enter a room only to forget why you went there, it is normal. If you misplace your car keys and find them on the bathroom counter, that too is normal. If, however, you find your keys in the freezer, you may need to summon a different team with a separate set of tools to figure out what is going on. The human brain has around 86 billion neurons, each with thousands of connections. A process known as synaptic plasticity alters the strength of these connections, forming the basis for learning and memory. Unlike with digital devices, storage is analog and influenced by emotion, context, and experience.

With all those neurons and connections buzzing away, you would think we could remember pretty much everything, but the design wasn’t meant for that. According to a 2009 report by the Global Information Industry Center at UC San Diego, we are exposed to 34 Gigabytes (nearly 12 hours’ worth) of information on a daily basis. Cognitive psychologist George Miller, in a 1956 paper on memory capacity, suggested that we can only keep 7 things (plus or minus 2) in mind at a time. While researchers are still debating the number, most suggest that it is probably smaller rather than larger. Our brains are mindbogglingly miraculous in function, but they are also selective.

This system of economy looks to filter information as much as possible, store the minimum, and make sure to get maximum benefit from that information. There are occasions, however, where we are surprised and frustrated by the things we miss. I still remember the number for the old dial telephone in the house I grew up in, yet I often forget the name of the person I was just introduced to in an important meeting.

According to memory scientist Charan Ranganath of U.C. Davis, trying to cram more into your head is not the best answer. One suggestion is what he calls “chunking” or grouping items to reduce the overall number. Like the way I apparently stored my first phone number under “home,” or most of us remember the alphabet or our Social Security number, chunking can improve efficiency.

You can find more about Dr. Ranganath’s handy acronym for chunking all these steps, known as “MEDIC”, here.  He also offers additional tips for any of us who may feel frustrated with our forgetfulness. Meaning is an important part of securing a spot in our limited storage space - if a memory is vivid or meaningful, that improves the odds of recall. Addressing the CEO of an important customer by the wrong name in a meeting not only sucks the oxygen out of the room but it also creates a vivid memory unlikely to be forgotten.

At the age of 12, my granddaughter memorized Teddy Roosevelt’s “Strength and Decency” for a regional speech meet. It was distinct from other things she was studying in that it was over 1200 words long and she knew she would be delivering it in front of a 3-judge panel in a packed room. Preparation involved lots of trial and error, first reciting a section and then checking for accuracy. Even though this was an unusually large “chunk,” she nailed it.

Importance and context are also key elements of memory, which brings me back to the disconcerting case of that CEO (which I would like to forget). After all, even though humans aren’t built to remember everything, I thought we were built to survive.