I make a living doing what I have taught myself to do.

When I first started writing and selling magazine articles – they were about photography – I was writing about a topic on which I was entirely self-taught.

When I started writing articles about modifying cars (and again selling those articles, but this time the ‘selling’ took lots of attempts before it was successful!), I was again writing about a subject on which I was largely self-taught.

My formal qualifications at that time were in teaching; my Bachelor of Education degree has double majors of Geography and Sociology – nothing remotely to do with automotives, mechanical engineering, physics, maths or technology.

Or for that matter, English, journalism or writing.

(I have since finished a Grad Diploma in Journalism – but that was done long after I was making a full-time living as a journalist.)

The reason I give this background is that I think I know quite a lot about self-directed learning, about approaching a subject (or an aspect of a subject) and successfully teaching oneself about it from scratch.

It’s an idea that many people skate past: they perceive picking up a subject or idea to be as simple as briefly listening to someone espouse on the topic, or skimming an article or on-line discussion group.

But that’s simply not the case.

These thoughts have been prompted by something I have written in Part 1 of an upcoming AutoSpeed series on the DIY electronic modification of cars. In that article I have said about the concept of learning:

Don’t fool yourself – if you don’t understand it, don’t pretend to yourself that you do! Learning requires honesty as well as an open mind: there are heaps and heaps of tossers who skim something, get a vague gist of what it was all about, and then think they know it.

They don’t.

One really good way of self-assessing whether or not you have learnt something is to say to yourself: can I now explain this idea to someone else? As a teacher and journalist, I know this approach very well – if I can’t explain a newly-learned concept to someone, then I don’t understand the concept.

For me, ‘explaining the idea to someone else’ normally occurs through writing about that idea. As longstanding readers will know, I tend to write about the things I am doing, and so the things I am learning.

Freshly learning about an idea (hopefully!) allows me to communicate it with clarity, as the questions I have been answering for myself are the ones other people new to the topic also want answered.

An example is Making Your Own Biodiesel.

The idea of producing biodiesel at home appealed to me: therefore, when I researched the story, I did so very much from the position of someone who was seriously thinking about producing their own biodiesel in a domestic setting. (That’s a very different approach to a disinterested journalist reporting on how some people make their own biodiesel!)

Since at the time I began the research for that story I knew absolutely nothing about the process, I had to teach myself about it from scratch. And, knowing that I had to clearly explain the processes and the positives and negatives, I also knew the ideas had to be clear in my mind.

(You could argue that having the ideas ‘clear in my mind’ is no guarantee of their accuracy and validity, and that of course is a reasonable point!)

However, for many people, explaining an idea in their own words will normally be something done orally rather than in writing.

I can well remember facing my first Year 11 Geography class to teach them about soil moisture budgets. The concept wasn’t something I’d come across before; the night before the class I’d just glanced through the curriculum resources and then figured I had sufficient understanding. It was only when I was standing in front of 25 people that I realised my understanding was lousy – in fact, so poor that I taught the concept incorrectly. The next day, I had to back-peddle mightily.

(I took this failure so much to heart that I immersed myself in soil moisture budgets, becoming more and more enthusiastic about them over the next nine or so years of teaching the idea!)

I think that that to be confident you have grasped an idea, you need to be able to comprehensively explain it ‘out loud’ inside your head, without question marks suddenly appearing. If you can’t do that, that’s still fine – but you must admit to yourself that you haven’t got your head fully around it.

Another example. I am fairly happy with my understanding of the broad concept of aerodynamic boundary layers. But what I don’t understand is why a ‘negative pressure gradient’ occurs, and furthermore, why it causes boundary layer thickening. It may be an obscure area, but it shows that I am aware of my deficiencies in understanding and so am careful not to pretend to myself that I have that area wrapped-up to my satisfaction.

(Look, I’m no expert on boundary layers – I am talking about having only enough knowledge to gainfully apply the concept in my writing and understanding of car aerodynamics. But in even my simple level of understanding I acknowledge to myself this ‘negative pressure gradient’ shortcoming.)

In addition to deliberately, honestly and carefully evaluating one’s level of understanding, the other key to self-learning success is to not be afraid of failure.

Research has shown that one reason children (and especially young children) learn so well  is that they have no concept of negative ramifications if they fail to grasp the idea. That is, the idea is proffered and they grasp it or not grasp it without any fear of consequences.

This approach can be termed simply ‘don’t be afraid to give it a go’ and of course is a philosophy far wider in implication than just self-directed learning.

I am probably talking to the converted: anyone who has read this far is very likely to be a self-directed learner, one who uses the strategies outlined above (or has developed their own, more idiosyncratic approach).

But if you’re new to the ideas, think about them.

The greatest limitation on people improving their knowledge and understanding is not intelligence, or resources, or educational background. It’s simply being completely honest with yourself in evaluating what you really understand.

Only that way can you know where the gaps are to fill.