Ladder of Abstraction

To improve your understanding and teaching, communicate along a spectrum of big ideas and tiny details.

Jiu-jitsu is a tricky thing to learn. Maybe you've noticed. 🤣

I recently came across an idea that helped me finally understand one of jiu-jitsu's thorniest philosophical problems: the “concepts versus techniques” debate. First, let's identify the problem.

Jiu-jitsu is a balance of big ideas and tiny details.

On one end, we've got the broad ideas: concepts, systems, mental models, and the like. These are the general patterns that, in theory, apply across the entire art. You learn them once, then use them everywhere.

But as helpful as these “big ideas” of jiu-jitsu are, we all know they're not enough. You can't “think” your way into good jiu-jitsu; at some point, it's a thing you actually have to do.

This takes us to the other end of the spectrum: specific details. Techniques, sequences, predictable responses, and all the other things your instructor makes you drill. This is the tangible “stuff” of jiu-jitsu: the things we see and do.

The details are great, but a coach focused entirely on techniques and moves is doing their students a disservice. Without any explanation of why jiu-jitsu works, students lack a mental framework to organize the pieces together. Learning might happen eventually, but it won't be efficient.

None of this is controversial. Intuitively, we know that concepts and techniques aren't mutually exclusive; to get good at jiu-jitsu, we need them both. Is there a seam joining the two? How do we blend the big ideas and small details into something that prevents our students (and ourselves) from getting lost?

The jiu-jitsu “ladder of abstraction”

Enter the “ladder of abstraction”: a concept popularized by the linguist S.I. Hayakawa in his 1941 book Language in Action, and used across a variety of fields today. Most relevant to us is the ladder of abstraction's ability to bridge gaps in understanding and help both beginners and experts learn.

Visualize the level of detail in your communication as a ladder. At the bottom, we're dealing with the most granular, specific details possible. Then, rung by rung, we climb the ladder to higher and higher levels of abstraction, until we reach an entirely conceptual level at the top.

Let's walk through a jiu-jitsu example: the armbar.

The armbar itself is already an abstraction, so it's not at the bottom of the ladder. If we want to get more specific, the armbar is just a sequence of movements. But conceptually, we're all taught quickly to refer to that sequence as “armbar” because giving things names saves time.

We can move even higher up the ladder of abstraction: “armlock” is a family of arm-based submissions, including the armbar, americana, kimura, and omoplata. A rung above might be “jointlock,” with “submission” above that.

At the top of the conceptual ladder, we might encounter some Danaher-esque word salad like “isolate a limb to control center mass, then use control of center mass to apply breaking pressure to a limb.” To an experienced black belt, this might sound profound... but without years of context, your students might think it's nonsense.

That's why it's important to know your place (and your audience's place) on the ladder of abstraction. Like a real ladder, we can (and should) move up and down the ladder to get more specific or conceptual based on our audience's needs. There is no dividing line or “seam” where techniques end and concepts begin; it is a spectrum.

Hayakawa had a term for getting stuck at the top or bottom of the ladder: “dead-level abstracting.” When you realize you're at the bottom of the ladder of abstraction, the next step becomes obvious: find the rung above you. When you're at the top, consider what's below.

The ladder of abstraction has another surprising benefit: it's a two-way learning tool. It doesn't just help you teach your students; it also helps your students teach you.

When you're teaching from the top of the ladder, you should be able to climb down rung by rung and be logically consistent all the way to the bottom. Your big conceptual ideas should map directly to the details on the ground. If they don't, there's a flaw in your logic. Climbing down the ladder of abstraction helps us find those flaws. Likewise, the little things you do should be describable in terms of the big-picture concepts you teach.

There's a downside to experience: over time, we forget to question our assumptions. We become used to always being right. Moving up and down the ladder of abstraction is like a mental workout: it helps us ensure the big things we think remain consistent with the little things we do. It shakes out any wrinkles in our understanding.

My homework for you: map your own knowledge of jiu-jitsu onto the ladder of abstraction. Does your conceptual understanding of jiu-jitsu fully explain the techniques that you do? If not, there's a gap, and that's a learning opportunity.

Further study:

• Concepts Over Techniques