Learning and the Brain: Mimicry

Steve Wilkins, Interim Head of School

My blogging goal is to engage the Proctor community in a yearlong conversation about how the human brain learns. For this installment in our series, I'm delighted to have Dillo '25 take the reins as primary author, in dialogue with Shauna Turnbull, Head of the English Department.

Their thoughtful exchange explores how students can progress from passive knowledge absorption through imitation to active, critical thinking. They examine how, over time and through intentional modeling by teachers, students develop the capacity to think independently and critically evaluate ideas -- an essential skill in today's digital environment where information flows without guardrails or filters. As both suggest, developing this intellectual independence and curiosity has never been more important.

Yousef (Dillo) '25 - Lesson #17: Mimicry Learning

In countless classrooms across the globe, we, as young people, are taught to learn by mimicry. To many of us, whatever comes from the mouth of the teacher must be correct, and it is the teacher's responsibility to bestow information upon us so that we can memorize and duplicate such knowledge. To a certain extent, this may be true. If we want to escape such a style, we must first indulge in it to provide a baseline understanding of various essential topics. In a way, mathematics is a perfect example of this. We see a teacher do a problem, introducing basic algebra rules, and we mimic them; we know these rules are true now. With that baseline, we can progress further and further, applying rules in scenarios we discover alone. 

This process, which we refer to as "mimicry," is linked to mirror neurons: specialized neurons that fire both when an individual acts and when they observe someone else performing that same action. Practically, when I put my hand in the air and wave it, there are specific mirror neurons that will become active. The fascinating nature is that this exact same set of neurons will fire when I watch another person perform the same action. That dual activation expresses that the brain processes our actions and the actions of others in a very similar way, which enables us to learn from watching others "do"! In short, these neurons facilitate learning through imitation, hence the "mirror" and "mimicry" terminology—this reliance on simply mirroring results in passive learning, where students absorb information without critical analysis. Inundating students in such a process for years and years leaves them to echo what they observe rather than form their own opinions or gain deeper understanding.

Because of this, we become susceptible to indoctrination and, potentially, misinformation by developing a habitual learning pattern based not on thinking for oneself but simply acting like a mimic. In an age such as today, this danger is more significant than ever because of the mass presentation of information to the mind from sources across the internet. And that is where teachers perhaps have the most extraordinary undertaking: pushing individuals to have their own ideas and thoughts — guided but not crafted by those around them. That is why education is vital, not solely for its content but also for the individuality it inspires. 

As mentioned earlier, a certain amount of pure knowledge absorbance is required to implement such a skill. At Proctor, we transform from children into young adults prepared for the world ahead of us; we are provided knowledge through memory for most of our time. By our senior year, we are prepared to move from mimicry. Yet, it's only through our venture into the most difficult of classes, with the most motivated students, that we discover that burning curiosity at Proctor. Within the classes and moments that aid us in that transformation, I see kids lacking the ability to think independently, question things themselves, and be vigorously curious. 

As described in detail in my last blog, it was through my first experience in such an environment forged by the teacher that I realized its importance: discovering alone, letting myself work for it rather than being handed the answer. Leaving Proctor this year, I encourage future students to seek out their curiosity, to apply their knowledge beyond sole memory, and for teachers to help spark it.

Shauna Turnbull, English Department Head

I think one of the things that struck me most in reading this is Dillo's point about the danger posed by mimicking thought patterns from "sources across the internet." There are no guardrails to limit what information is allowed to be put out into the world these days, and so it has become increasingly important for people - especially young people who are trying to understand the larger world and their place in it - to have the tools and ability to discern the truth so that they may, ultimately, think for themselves. 

And this is where the value of mimicry can come into play. As educators, we see the benefits of wholehearted inquiry and quiet reflection; it is incumbent upon us to both model this behavior and to provide our students ample space and opportunity to just think - deeply and comprehensively - without interruption or distraction. There is a moment in Jane Eyre where Jane has a problem that she doesn't know how to solve, for which she spends an entire night just thinking. (And ultimately credits a fairy with dropping the answer on her pillow while she was pacing the room.) I asked students to recall the last time they just sat and thought, and I challenged them to sit for a moment in class, think about a problem or complication that they are trying to solve, and then let their brain start to do its magic. We discussed how our brains are working on things even when we think they're not, and that's why some of our best ideas or solutions seem to arise when we are doing something unrelated (like when we're in the shower!) or during those liminal moments between waking and sleeping. As I'm sure Jane Eyre would agree: here's to vigorous, sustained thinking, even when we don't know we're doing it. Thanks, Dillo, for the conversation!

Read More From The Learning and the Brain Series