Desirable Difficulty

Abstract

When my daughter Amanda was young and still taking piano lessons, I'd half-listen from the second floor while she practiced down below. Typically, she'd get pretty good at the opening measures of a new piece. But eventually she'd get to a part she didn't know as well. At that point, music became noise. Involuntarily, as Amanda clawed her way through the rough bits, I winced and cringed. And I bet she did, too, particularly because trying things we can't yet do is especially effortful. Very soon, there would be a pause. And then Amanda would begin again at the beginning—where she felt comfortable, where it was easy, where the touch of her fingers generated music instead of noise. If I noticed that Amanda spent too much time repeating the fluid measures and not enough on what was obviously difficult for her, I'd come downstairs and, as gently as I could, prompt her to get back to the hard stuff. Why do kids need grownups who love them to encourage them through what cognitive scientists call “desirable difficulty”?