The Change Blindness Phenomenon
The end of 2024 is approaching, and it has been a wild year.
First, thank you for reading my letters and following along—this newsletter will continue to be the backbone of everything I put out online and will include exclusive updates and deals, not shared anywhere else, for useful products that I build or support.
There are two important updates I’d like to share before saying a few words about change (since my changes are the most important, after all):
I have a new website – thomasgalgani.com. It’s quite plain for now and will receive updates in upcoming weeks, but this is where everything of mine will live.
My YouTube channel is growing and is where I'll be showing up a lot. It’s currently still small, but it recently went from about 20 subscribers (thank you, by the way, if you were one of the OG 20) to over 1,100 after just a month of uploading more intentionally. Due to popular demand, the focus of the channel will be on language learning, but it will also cover other topics that interest me surrounding art, culture, and self-growth.
Latest video: Tips to Improve Listening Proficiency in a Foreign Language
Most popular video so far: How to Boost Fluency in a Foreign Language
Next video podcast coming soon: My dad and I walked around Old Sacramento while discussing his and my mom's recent pilgrimage in Spain (for the Camino de Santiago). This is the second piece to a three-part series I'm doing on their incredible trip and was a great conversation you don't want to miss.
Now onto today's letter.
I’ve recently been particularly astonished by the reality of change.
My wife and I received a really nice early Christmas present a couple weeks ago—a Google Nest. It’s a small screen that sits on a counter and, among many things, displays photos (or anything you want) in a slideshow format. You can also ask it to play music or just talk to it for some company; I try to always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ (my ChatGPT is also named Chad, but no, he doesn’t write my newsletter for me). This gadget has been a great gift because it allows us to put on music or quickly check media without having to bring our phones into the living area. It adds a lot of subtle warmth that way by not having one or more of us getting individually “pulled away” by a device.
Seeing so many more photos from over the past decade on our kitchen counter has been sparking various reactions (all positive ones, but they often surprise me, despite already having seen at least most of the photos).
“Wow, we look different there…when was that again?”
“That day was fun—where was that?”
“I look smaller there…it’s weird, I don’t feel any different now…” (sort of a funny reaction that could come across as narcissistic, but I think we all assess ourselves in every photo whether we admit it or not).
In short, I’m often amazed by how much emotion some of the photos bring up, particularly because they bring up times that seem so different compared to the present moment (not better or worse, just different), yet, without the photo, I would have probably never noticed a change.
I remember some days from 20 years ago like they were yesterday, and in many cases, I currently don’t feel any different from whatever timeframe they’ve captured. While my thoughts, behavior, and opinions in so many areas have dramatically changed, the changes often go unnoticed from a first-person perspective.
Thoughts, behavior, and opinions probably matter the most…but here’s a more “physical” example to provide some context:
There have been periods I’ve let myself go and couldn’t run as well or do as many pull-ups as I’d like to be able to do—a 4 mile run would completely gas me and take over 33 minutes when before I could do it in under 28 minutes, and 6 pull-ups brought my arms to failure when before I could do 29 in one set without getting tired, as if I could float in the air while just touching the bar. I was aware of the obvious dip in capabilities, but I rarely felt differently. (These are my numbers, the weaker performances would be great for many, while the stronger ones would be a joke to plenty of people also—I don’t care either way, I’m talking about the change here).
Yes, obviously we feel better when we’re healthier, fitter versions of ourselves, but the change in either direction often goes unnoticed because it’s so gradual.
“I can run and do pull-ups. I can hold my own” — these were things I would honestly tell myself while letting myself go, but these half-truths are laughable when bringing any of the fitter versions of myself into the picture.
Research shows that it often takes twice as long for us or those whom we live with to notice any changes in ourselves compared to friends or acquaintances who see us infrequently. In the context of fitness, it’s often just 20-30 days of gym attendance for a friend to notice an improvement, while the same change takes us and our significant others up to 2 months to notice. The phenomenon of change blindness is such, that if you see it often enough or are distracted, you won’t notice a change until it slaps you in the face.
To be clear, regression in physical capabilities, of course, doesn’t always mean a regression overall. We prioritize and make trade-off’s and focus on individual areas, while surrounding areas are disregarded, at least temporarily. Even within the category of fitness, being well-rounded can only go so far. Whatever receives the most attention, or the least attention, changes the most.
Regardless, change, in one way or another, in every area, is always happening.
This thought used to make me sad—my inner-child would reflect on wonderful, warm and cozy moments that are joyful and perfect, and the idea that everything changes would mean that something great can never last forever. I would think that if it’s great and the best it’s ever been, it could only get worse, and the magic will eventually be gone forever.
However, I’ve learned this isn’t true. Yes, things can always become worse—there is no limit to entropy, evil, and misfortune (negative circumstances seem to evolve in this order), and the world is entirely indifferent to our opinions or tolerance for suffering. But simultaneously, things can always get better. The “best day” is only the best because there hadn't been a better one yet, and that best day likely couldn’t be fully imagined beforehand.
Therefore, it can always be better in ways you can’t imagine. I think the phenomenon of change blindness also occurs because our brains want things to be simpler in an effort to conserve energy.
You may not see improvements, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t happening. A great day often feels so great, in part, due to change blindness itself. The great day was already on its way because of the actions you were taking and how you responded to whatever life threw at you.
I’ve been called "too systematic" in the past (maybe I still am), but I’ve learned to at least see change differently.
As opposed to wanting to make things “great” and then grit my teeth to simply keep them great, I want to always strive to make things better, dreaming big and solving problems that need solving…while always being grateful for another day and enjoying the ride.
Ten years ago, Matthew McConaughey said in an Oscar acceptance speech that he looks up to God but that his hero is himself from ten years in the future, and his hero is whom he’ll always be chasing. This written summary doesn’t do the suave delivery justice, but I think it’s not a bad way to see change.
Embrace “the chase.”
Thanks for reading, make an awesome week!
—Thomas