The Bandwidth Problem, or The Importance of Not Teaching

Remember that we are not a circus. Our job is not to show off the maximum number of tricks.  To teach more, sometimes we need to say less.

At the end of a two-day course, my voice is always shot, and I croak my goodbyes like an old frog. For many years, I have tried to practise my own philosophy of teaching, and talking, as little as possible. Yet I keep yabbering on.

Whatever country or training system you are working within, you probably follow some kind of syllabus. You are expected to tick a number of boxes: anchors, rappelling, knots, climbing technique, access, grading. Check, check, check.

Many participants will greedily ingest everything you throw at them. But people are different. If someone is completely new to the exposure, the engineering, the group - then a day or two at a crag is going to wear him down. Stress, cold, individual learning styles, or group dynamics will further affect his capacity to learn.

In the end, it is a simple fact that just pulling from your vast ocean of climbing knowledge, and piling it onto the unwitting participant, will not maximize learning.

The instructor Martin showing how it´s done: standing off to the side, keeping his mouth shut. 

The most obvious example is when we teach climbing anchors. There is the V-Sling. The Dog Bone. The Sliding-X. The Cordelette. Oh, and don´t forget the Quad. Then we can extend all of these in numerous ways. Then there is the static rope in a multitude of configurations. On top of that, we can use our climbing rope in yet four or five really awesome ways.

But remember that we are not a circus. Our job is not to show off the maximum number of tricks.  We need to censor ourselves, and still stay within the syllabus. To teach more, we need to say less.

With a crowd of engineering students, the above example can be solved by focusing on physical principles. As long as we respect some basic requirements (like solid, independent pieces, redundancy, and a small angle between legs), we can pretty much do as we please. Have them go and play, then discuss the various solutions. (You will have your own mnemonic for these principles, like SERENE.)

For others, we must limit the number of options. I find that a lot of intermediate climbers complicate anchor-building because they have not settled for a simple go-to solution that works in a lot of situations, and instead get tangled in messy, complicated setups. Where I climb, the V-anchor (aka two-point, pre-equalized cordelette) is that go-to solution. It gives you a basic starting point for combining two anchor points. It can be expanded with other V-anchors to create three or four-point systems. If you teach only one setup, choose this, and have your students practise it in various environments. Teach them how to extend one leg if one piece is far away.

Skip the Sliding-X, and the Quad. One is specialized, the other is very complicated to build. If the group has bandwidth to spare, you may add a single trick for when your sling seems to short to tie a proper master point: say, the dog bone.

The point I am making here is not to tell you which anchors are the best. Depending on your local environment, you may have different go-to solutions than what I use. The point is to respect the limited bandwidth of your students. Teach them one or two variations, and make sure they are confident in building and adapting them to real situations, and that they understand the principles.

Similar challenges exist when it comes to building rescue systems. Do you really need to teach 2:1, 3:1, 3:1 Spanish burton, 5:1 and 6:1? Are they all really that useful? Select one or two that demonstrate the fundamental concept of a hoist, and that fit naturally in the context. Practise this setup in a variety of situations. Tell the participants that there are more ways to do this and that they should try them out at home.

Usually, if you follow this advice, you will get through your required syllabus, ticking the important boxes. More importantly, the things you have taught will actually stick.

In addition to the arguments I have outlined, there is yet another reason why "not teaching" may sometimes be a great method. Some new climbers will be stressed by having someone talk and correct them all the time. They need time to relax, think, and try for themselves. If you are on the ground, this is a great way to learn (obviously, in a vertical environment there is less room for failure). Leave the student alone for a while and she may find herself suddenly understanding something that more lecturing could never have taught them.

Still, there will be times when students simply do not have the capacity even for this stream-lined approach. If a beginner is struggling with her anchors, maybe it simply is not yet time to move to multi-pitch climbing. Then you must simply prioritize. Is it better that the student leaves your course confident she can build a basic anchor, and knowing she is not yet ready for following a leader on multi-pitch, or is it more important that, on paper, she has touched upon everything in the syllabus yet not really understood anything? I think the answer is obvious. Still, too many of us insist on teaching everything, rather that ensuring that participants learn something.