On Learning and Effort

Note: This post was originally written in December 2018 and published on Sina Weibo. It is being republished here because the original platform is no longer accessible.

Introduction

The cycling travelogue I mentioned earlier was originally supposed to be published in August, but it stayed in my drafts for over a month. During that period, I was fully occupied with exam preparation and simply could not settle down to write. Looking back now, that travelogue still carries some traces of rushed writing.

What I want to talk about next is the set of reflections that emerged during this period of exam preparation.

This professional certification exam requires passing three subjects within two years. Objectively speaking, it is not particularly difficult. The syllabus is usually released in May, and the exam takes place in September—only about four months of preparation time. The fact that there is still a reasonable pass rate within such a short window suggests that the exam itself is relatively manageable.

However, it is also challenging. For adults who have already left school, we no longer have the structured environment that once shielded us from external pressures—social expectations, judgment, distractions. As a result, it is much harder to concentrate fully as we did during our student years. Memorizing a large amount of material within a few months and passing the exam still requires effort and discipline.

The subject I passed last year now feels somewhat lucky in hindsight. I did not feel confident after the exam, and my estimated score was right around the passing line. This year, the pressure increased: I needed to prepare for two subjects simultaneously, and if I failed even one, the previously passed subject would expire and need to be retaken. Under these constraints, passing both became non-negotiable.

This led me to think more deeply about learning itself.

To be honest, at least until middle school, I was what people would call “the ideal child”—good grades, good personality, diverse interests, and socially pleasant. Looking back, that version of myself would still stand out among children today. But, as the story of Fang Zhongyong illustrates, such early advantages gradually fade. By high school, I was already being outperformed by top students, yet I still maintained a misplaced sense of confidence, with significant weaknesses in certain subjects. Teachers and parents would say, “You’re smart, you just don’t apply it properly.”

After the college entrance exam, my results were far from ideal. Only later did I begin to understand the relationship between learning, credentials, and life outcomes. There are two important extensions here:

• The gap between thinking you understand and actually mastering something

• The relationship between effort (cause) and future outcomes (effect), and how establishing a clear, intuitive link between them influences behavior

Both topics deserve much deeper discussion, but for now, I will continue focusing on learning itself.

After entering the workforce, I rarely engaged in structured study for exams. There was always the assumption that “there is still time.” Suddenly, I was approaching thirty. Reaching that stage without a meaningful certification in my own field made it difficult to claim professional confidence.

When I finally sat down to study seriously again, memories from my student years resurfaced. To be precise, most of the “nightmares” I have had over the years are tied to my school days, particularly high school. This is not accidental.

At first glance, one might attribute it to “not studying hard enough” or “playing too many games.” But I do not think the explanation is that simple. Even if I could go back and repeat high school, without understanding the underlying issue, I doubt the outcome would change significantly.

The real problem lies in learning itself.

My Understanding of “Learning”

Conclusion first: learning itself is a discipline.

It involves methods: how to trigger curiosity, how to cultivate interest, how to read, how to practice, how to memorize, how to apply. It cannot be reduced to the word “effort.”

The real question is: how to exert effort, and where to direct it.

Traditional approaches often look like this:
listen to lectures → take notes → do homework → practice questions → read → memorize formulas

I recall a chemistry test in high school where I scored 39. As the class representative, I spent two weeks in the teacher’s office during breaks. Did it help? Not really.

My experience was consistent:

• I could understand the teacher during class

• I could follow examples and complete homework

• But during exams, especially comprehensive ones, I became confused

Similar concepts with subtle differences would blur together. I often faced multiple plausible answers and could not distinguish between them.

The common explanation is “insufficient mastery.” That is true—but incomplete. Simply copying knowledge repeatedly is not scalable when the number of concepts is large.

The deeper issues are:

1. Lack of a structured system
   Knowledge points exist in isolation without connections

2. Lack of learning methodology
   No framework for classification, memory, or application

I later encountered mind mapping tools. Properly used, they can address both problems.

An effective learning process should include:

• Structure first: understand what the subject is, how it is organized, and how concepts relate

• Process clarity: distinguish between principles, derived rules, and pure memorization

• Application through examples: translate theory into practice

• Reinforcement through repetition: practice is necessary, not optional

This constitutes the initial stage of learning.

My Understanding of “Effort”

Once methodology is established, effort becomes the key variable.

Many people say: “I understand the theory, but I still can’t focus.”
This is not a lack of understanding—it is a lack of execution.

However, there is a deeper issue that is rarely discussed:

The most critical question is not how to work hard, but why to work hard.

Students are often told:
study hard → get into a good school → find a good job → have a better life

But for a student, these are abstract concepts. Without a tangible connection between present effort and future outcomes, motivation remains weak.

The real challenge is to establish a direct, perceivable link between effort and results.

This link cannot be built through occasional discussions or short-term experiences. It requires long-term exposure, accumulated experience, and repeated reinforcement. Even then, it is a necessary but not sufficient condition.

At present, I recognize the existence of this link, but I have not yet developed a fully actionable framework for it.

The “Content” of Effort

Another realization:

The most unsettling fact is not that others are more hardworking, but that their effort is directed toward things you cannot even imagine.

Example:
A student asks a teacher for more assignments—not to improve grades, but to build a competitive profile for applying to a top university abroad, including volunteer work in Peru.

A more relatable example:
During middle school, I thought classmates who delayed returning from vacations were wasting time. In reality, they were gaining broader exposure and forming early awareness of higher education and global opportunities.

Meanwhile, my own effort was focused on short-term academic ranking.

This difference in direction matters more than the amount of effort.

Conclusion

Many parents say:
“If you get into a top university, we will support you no matter what.”

In reality, such outcomes are rarely the result of isolated effort. They typically require multi-generational accumulation—resources, knowledge, and planning.

Statistics consistently show that students in top institutions disproportionately come from families with higher educational backgrounds. This is not coincidence.

The key issue is not assigning blame, but recognizing reality:

• Learning is personal, but it is not independent of environment

• Effort matters, but direction and structure matter more

• Education is not just about investing in children, but also about improving oneself

Ultimately, the question becomes:

Can we, as individuals or as parents, build a system where effort, learning, and outcomes are meaningfully connected?

That is the real problem worth solving.