As an interesting (and yes, a bit sad) twist on that notion - and, if I may say so, coincidentally a bit of a bridge between my comment-fellow SubiculumCode's two different areas of research - my personal empirical experience was that between ages 6-13 I had a stepfather who routinely dispensed physical punishment/discipline.
One of the harshest applications was around academic performance. If I had any bad marks, or a teacher reported sluggish work or improper behaviour, it wasn't good.
And whether as result of personal talent (ha!), or simply through being beaten and fear-driven into learned intensity, you'd better believe I was the top of my class or close to it most of the time.
But the stress part-destroyed my social abilities and integration (as opposed to academic learning), and along with other unusual childhood stressors and instability I suffered, is the biggest reason why later I spent most of my adulthood walking my own path - to the extent of being considered autistic.
I held the role of (land) surveying draftsman, during the early 2000s years when the surveying profession was partway through the transition between manual drawings and digital processes.
Being a young man then, I was our offices champion of new technology, but years of legacy projects still being tied off meant I had no choice but to learn and practice many of the manual skills.
So my job was a weird mix of pushing everybody into the cutting edge of tech, then having to go and do some 50-100+ year old processes using special pens and papers and even chemicals.
For example, the look up the 'diazo machine' -style of copier. Then imagine going into a small room with an armful of 30 x A1-sized engineering plans, and standing next to this machine for 2 hours slowly feeding in each page while surrounded by ammonia fumes. These days, the Wikipedia page says : "When making multiple copies of an original no more than four or five copies can typically be made at a time, due to the build-up of ammonia fumes, even with ventilation fans in the duplication room", but back then the working reality was more like "Junior staff member! I need four copies of these! <hands over armful of A1>".
Much cooler was the Houston Instruments pen plotter. A machine whose vacuum bed (think of air hockey) held the paper down while rollers ratcheted it back and forth at high speed, and a robotic pen arm 'printed' out a plan by physically drawing it with pens. It automatically changes to different pens when it needs different line thicknesses (or even colours). All done at such a whirlwind of organised precision, it was a joy to watch.
Another aspect of the manual age was the notion of Originals, or Master Copies. That is, for important documents, there'd be a master copy printed out on high grade stock - often archival grade, multi-layered Mylar or similar, for stability and durability. It could be hard work when a project made a late change, because at worst you might find yourself having to (e.g.) manually remove and extremely-carefully redraw an entire table of figures on a master plan. Sometimes just because row 1 of that table had changed such that the rest had to be moved down. The removal involved caaarrrefully buffing the ink off the page using a rotating electric eraser. If you put a hole in the plan by rubbing too hard on one spot, god help you. Doing that, then having to get 5 different signatures from high people in various offices redone on a new master copy, while a large project could be held up for weeks while delays and interest and costs accrue, would be considered a fairly notable faux pas.
One truth I've observed from decades of keen hobbyist involvement in guitar music and playing is that a lifetime of music is largely an individual journey.
The fact that some players learn by transcribing, while others learn by jamming, and yet others learn by rote theoretical study, or 10-hour practice sessions, etc, is a big part of the variety which results in the wonderfully varied tapestry of music styles and approaches that humanity creates and enjoys.
Not to take away from the age-old, valid advice in the link about the value of ear-to-fretboard work.
The individual who has a breakthrough often feels compelled to call it a “system” and start telling others about it.
The great advice someone has is just what worked for them. It will probably work for others, especially if it repeats common advice, but it won’t work for everyone.
If I practice guitar for 6 hours a day (like John Petrucci in his teenage years) while always wearing an orange hat, I’ll get pretty damn good at the guitar in a few years. I can then spread the word to everyone that the best way to learn the guitar is to always wear an orange hat.
As with the dangers of ‘productivity porn’, ultimately what matters most is putting in the hours.
But one thing I like to stress is: You get to decide how to spend that time. Sure it is occasionally good to spend the time on "no fun" practise, especially if you feel your playing is lacking. But you don't get magically better results if you suffer while practising.
I'd argue the opposite: The person who has fun while practising will also learn and they will be inclined to put more hours in.
Putting in the hours is important, but not I would not single it out as what matters because there is so much varienty of talent between musicians who put in similar hours. What you do in those hours at least equally matters.
My take is that there are probably multiple systems out there than can help you achieve mastery, but it depends on your personality, life circumstances, etc. Just like there ten thousand paths up the mountain. It is a good idea to try out a couple and find the one that works for you. Then if you get to the point where you master your target skill and it is your turn to spread the gospel of "the way", it is good to keep in mind why it worked for you.
I think you need both. If you never stop or slow down, it's hard to build the proper muscle memory to improve and get more accurate. However, it's also valuable to practice playing through mistakes to finish a whole song. Mistakes happen, and if you're playing for a crowd you can't just stop and start over.
Yes, both. A good example why is for example, as muscle memory grows it will bias your note selection when improvising. Sometimes you really need to slow down to consciously force yourself to explore other sounds. Once you've done that, you need to wear it in again so it sounds natural in your playing.
Absolutely. You can get "locked in" to certain patterns / phrases just via muscle memory and familiarity. Need to balance that with a little improv to find new patterns phrases you like, and then can train those in via muscle memory.
Everyone learns different, but there is something universal in music that is essential to mastering an instrument. You should be able to hear something in your head and then play it. The goal is there is no barrier between your thoughts and actions. Learning to play by ear like that is the best way to get there in pretty much all instances. Looking up tabs is still great, and you can learn a ton from that (huh? another song with G, C, and D, I wonder why? Is it similar to the C, F, and G songs I'm playing?) but if you want to get next level that is the best way. I am a guitar play and I was in a band with another guitar player. I had a music minor, thousands of hours of practice and knew my theory inside and out. The other guitar player barely knew any theory but was way better than me and one of the best guitar players I've ever heard. He could just play. He didn't need to know the theory, he could hear it in his head.
Not to suggest that analogies solve anything, but perhaps it adds large-scale context to mention that throughout history various (and frequent!) events of technological disruption have had similar effect upon particular fields of work.
I used to work in land surveying, entering that field around the turn of the millennium just as digitalisation was hitting the industry in a big way. A common feeling among existing journeymen was one of confusion. Fear and dislike of these threatening changes, which seemed to neutralise all the hard-won professional skills. Expertise with the old equipment. Understanding of how to do things closer to first-principles. Ability to draw plans by hand. To assemble the datasets in the complex and particular old ways. And of course, to mentor juniors in the same.
Suddenly, some juniors coming in were young computer whizzes. Speeding past their seniors in these new ways. But still only juniors, for all that - still green, no matter what the tech. With years and decades yet, to earn their stripes, their professionalism in all it's myriad aspects. And for the seniors, their human aptitudes (which got them there in the first place) didn't vanish. They absorbed the changes, stuck with their smart peers, and evolved to match the environment. Would they have rathered that everything in the world had stayed the same as before? Of course. But is that a valid choice, professionally speaking? or in life itself? Not really.
Likewise, a lot of what we learn at school or university is superceded by new knowledge or technology (who needs arithmetic, when we all have a calculator in our pocket??), but having an intimate knowledge of those building blocks is still key to having a deeper and more valuable aptitude in your field.
For many years, local maps were my day-to-day work.
Regulations dictated that north should be at the page top, but exceptions were made so that the relevant land mass would efficiently fit on standard paper sizes. For example, you could fit a lot more detail onto a printed map of Japan with the paper as Portrait, rather than Landscape. So the practical aspects of the printed paper age have long been a side factor in map orientation.
And there was no doubt that the exceptions, where maps had north other-than-up, proved mentally more difficult for everybody to deal with. People not used to working with maps would struggle because it didn't align with other maps, and people used to working with maps would struggle because our minds were locked into the convention that came from 95% working with north-up maps!
One of the harshest applications was around academic performance. If I had any bad marks, or a teacher reported sluggish work or improper behaviour, it wasn't good.
And whether as result of personal talent (ha!), or simply through being beaten and fear-driven into learned intensity, you'd better believe I was the top of my class or close to it most of the time.
But the stress part-destroyed my social abilities and integration (as opposed to academic learning), and along with other unusual childhood stressors and instability I suffered, is the biggest reason why later I spent most of my adulthood walking my own path - to the extent of being considered autistic.
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