Learning That Sticks Is Effortful — and Delightfully Uncomfortable

We don’t need to make learning effortless. 
We just need to make thinking the most rewarding thing in the room

Remember Those “Head-Hurt” Assignments

Do you remember those assignments that made your head hurt?
The ones that forced you to go back to the notes, the lecture, the diagram, again and again until something finally clicked?

You would work through it, draw it, get frustrated, maybe even walk away for a bit.
And then one day it made sense. That moment when the pieces finally fit, when your brain stopped fighting you and said, “Ohhh, I get it now.”

There is not much in the world as satisfying as that feeling. At least not for me.
That is what keeps me teaching and what turned me into a lifelong learner.

I call that cognitive friction.

What Cognitive Friction Really Is

Cognitive friction is the pushback your brain gives when it is trying to connect new information to what it already knows. It is the mental resistance that forces you to slow down and actually think instead of just recall.

It is not failure. It is learning in progress.
And as uncomfortable as it can be, that friction is what makes knowledge stick.

Living and Learning in the Gray

I have loved medicine for as long as I can remember. I have loved evidence.
And I have always wrestled a little with the gray areas because in medicine the stakes are high.
This is not like getting an exam question wrong. These decisions impact people's lives.

The gray areas make us uneasy because they remind us of uncertainty. But they are also where we evolve, where we innovate, and where curiosity turns into discovery.
It is in that space between certainty and doubt that science moves forward.

That kind of friction, uncomfortable as it is, is what has pushed science and medicine forward. Without it, we would never grow.

I have a medical background and teach in the health sciences, where evidence and uncertainty constantly coexist.
In this field, everything comes back to evidence, but it is never that simple.

There is comfort in algorithms, in data, in protocols, and in peer-reviewed outcomes.
But the truth is that medicine, like learning, happens in the gray.

Working in that gray means making decisions with limited information.
We weigh probabilities and balance risks. We interpret data and apply it to real people, complex and unpredictable people.
And that is where real thinking lives.

Being able to work in that gray space, to reason through uncertainty and build solutions that are both evidence-based and human-centered, is the kind of thinking I want my students to develop.
That is what cognitive friction prepares them for.

On Resistance and Resilience

I think about this a lot because I see how uncomfortable students are with struggle.
They hit a tough concept and think they have failed.
If it does not come easily, they assume something is wrong with them.

But that is not what is wrong. That is exactly what is right.

In science and medicine, almost nothing comes easily.
Every discovery, every diagnosis, every new understanding comes from trial and error, revision, and persistence.
No one gets through these fields without some friction.

I wish students could see that truth, that struggle is normal, necessary, even good.
It is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of growth.

Why “AI-Proof” Is Not the Point

We live in a world where AI can write a reflection, summarize a lecture, or answer a quiz faster than most of us can open our notes.
It can teach faster and more accurately than any of us could if all we are doing is transferring information.
If the assignment only asks for a polished answer, AI can do it.

But AI cannot wrestle with uncertainty.
It cannot describe the frustration of not getting it or the joy of finally understanding.
It does not know what that satisfaction feels like. It cannot push us to be better.

So the goal is not to make learning AI-proof because we cannot.
The goal is to make it AI-resistant by designing work that demands real thinking.
Assignments where the easiest and most rewarding path is to simply think for real.

What Cognitive Friction Looks Like in the Classroom

Cognitive friction shows up when students:

• Compare what they thought they knew with what they just learned

• Go back and figure out why their first answer was wrong

• Label and sketch, not because it is cute or artistic, but because it helps the system make sense

• Explain a process in their own words instead of repeating mine

• Reflect on where the evidence fits and where it does not

That is when they are not just memorizing. They are making the knowledge their own.

Cognitive Friction in Team-Based Learning

In team-based learning, cognitive friction takes on a social form.
It is not just one brain working through uncertainty. It is several, all bumping up against each other.

When students collaborate, they have to explain, defend, and revise their thinking.
They run into peers who see things differently. They disagree. They negotiate meaning.
That friction between perspectives is where understanding deepens.

In the health sciences, this mirrors real clinical work.
A care team does not operate in isolation. Nurses, physicians, techs, therapists, and others all bring different perspectives to a shared goal.
The same principle applies in the classroom.

When students experience collaborative cognitive friction, they practice interprofessional reasoning: listening, questioning, and building consensus.
It is messy. It is uncomfortable. But it is real.
And when it works, it turns group work into a living model of evidence-based practice.

On Grit and Growth

One thing I always tell my students is that no one comes into medicine or science knowing everything.
We all struggle. That is normal. The work is complex, the stakes are high, and the learning curve is steep.

You do not build confidence without first living through uncertainty.
You do not build competence without wrestling with the hard stuff.

Learning medicine takes time, repetition, humility, and a willingness to keep showing up when it is hard and feels defeating.

The thing that has always set me apart is not perfection. It is resilience.
I have always been willing to outwork everyone in the room.
Even when it was difficult. Even when it meant staying longer, giving things up, or pushing through exhaustion.

That persistence, the choice to keep thinking, keep striving, and keep working, has carried me farther than talent ever could.
It is what turns struggle into strength.

Final Thoughts

Those “head-hurt” moments are the ones that stay with us— the moments when we really learned how to learn.

That deep satisfaction of finally understanding something tough — that’s the feeling I want my students to chase.
Because once you’ve felt that, you’ll never confuse easy with meaningful again.

We don’t need to make learning effortless.
We just need to make thinking the most rewarding thing in the room.