SJMcCormick
Opportunity comes to the prepared mind
Reflections

Recursion and Learning

How feedback loops develop judgment over time

Author

Steven McCormick • 2025-11-19 • 5 min read

What recursion is

Recursion is the mind’s ability to loop back on itself.

It is the capacity to take your own output and treat it as new input. You do not just think, feel, or decide. You notice that you are thinking, feeling, or deciding, and that noticing becomes something you can work with.

A simple example appears in reading. Early on, reading is decoding. Marks on a page become sounds and words. Later, another process runs in the background. You notice whether you understand what you are reading. If you do not, you slow down or reread. The system is no longer just producing an answer. It is checking the quality of its own answer and altering the process.

That second move is recursion.

It helps to distinguish this from simpler feedback. A thermostat adjusts because temperature changes. A rat adjusts because a lever produces food. Those are loops, but they do not require the system to represent its own process. Recursion begins when the system can monitor itself, not just the world, and use that monitoring to revise what it does next.

This revision can be shallow or deep. Sometimes it is a quick correction. Sometimes it becomes a durable habit of reflection. In both cases, the structure is the same. Output becomes input. The system inspects itself.

Recursion is not wisdom. It does not guarantee better decisions. It only creates the possibility of revision. You can loop back on a flawed model and reinforce it. Recursion, then, is capacity, not virtue. But once the capacity exists, learning changes shape.

Why recursion creates leverage

Learning speed is largely a function of how much you update per unit of experience.

Two people can live through the same event and come away with very different returns. One reacts, recovers, and moves on. The other asks what they assumed, what actually happened, and what would need to change next time. Over years, that difference compounds.

Recursion is what allows experience to be converted into signal.

Without it, learning is slow and brittle. Behaviors repeat. Outcomes blur. Lessons are misattributed. You remember what happened but not why it happened. A winning outcome can disguise a flawed decision, and a bad outcome can obscure sound reasoning.

A recursive system has another option. It can hold its own thinking still long enough to examine it. It can notice confusion, guessing, rationalization, or the quiet reuse of habits that no longer pay. Those moments of noticing are not abstract. They are the raw material of improvement.

This is why mistakes are useful for some people and merely painful for others. The pain is not the lesson. The lesson is the information extracted from the mismatch between what was expected and what occurred. Recursion is the mechanism that makes that mismatch visible.

You see the same structure in deliberate practice. The advantage is not repetition alone. It is repetition paired with a tight loop: attempt, feedback, correction, attempt again. If the loop is loose, errors fossilize. If it is tight, small corrections accumulate until the skill looks effortless.

Effective learning techniques follow the same pattern. Retrieval forces you to confront what you cannot produce. Spacing reveals what does not endure. Self-explanation exposes where reasoning collapses. These methods differ on the surface, but mechanically they all close the loop tightly enough for revision to occur.

When recursion works well, learning is not just the act of acquiring information. It is improving the process that acquires the information.

Why recursion is costly

Recursive work is effortful. It reduces the pleasant feeling of fluency because it surfaces error. Many people mistake that discomfort for failure and retreat to modes that feel productive but do not force revision. The loop breaks, and learning slows.

Under stress, recursion is one of the first capacities to degrade. Reflection is metabolically expensive and slower than habit. When the brain detects threat, it reallocates resources toward speed and familiar patterns. You act first and explain later.

This is not a character flaw. It is a design trade-off. Reflection is most available in conditions that allow it.

Recursion also has failure modes. The loop can remain open without incorporating new information. That is rumination. Or it can reinforce a flawed model. Reflection amplifies whatever assumptions it is built on.

Recursion alone then does not guarantee improvement. The loop must stay grounded in reality and must close into action.

Designing better loops

In simple environments, feedback is clear and fast. You know instantly when you hit the wrong key on a piano. In complex domains, it is delayed and noisy. Markets, careers, health, and relationships rarely provide clean signals.

Skilled learners compensate by building smaller loops inside larger systems.

They make assumptions explicit. They write down predictions. They decompose complex activities into parts that can be evaluated sooner. They schedule review rather than waiting for the environment to force it.

Documentation is decisive and unemotional. When you record your reasoning before outcomes arrive, you protect the loop from revisionist memory. When results come in, you compare reality to what you actually believed at the time.

Constraint helps as well. Fewer moving parts make feedback interpretable. A narrower experiment produces clearer signal.

The difference between fast learners and slow learners is rarely intelligence alone. It is loop quality. How quickly does action produce feedback? How honestly is that feedback interpreted? How reliably does interpretation alter the next action?

Small differences here widen over time.

Closing the loop

Recursion shows up most clearly in the separation of process from outcome.

A poker player who shoves seven-deuce and wins the hand has not demonstrated skill. The result cooperated. The decision did not.

Without a pause to make that distinction, the wrong lesson gets reinforced. Luck is mistaken for ability. Survival is mistaken for intelligence. The loop runs, but it updates the model in the wrong direction.

Recursion is the moment where that reinforcement is interrupted.

It is asking whether the reasoning would still make sense if the result had gone the other way. It is checking whether the decision would be defensible across many repetitions, not just this one.

That habit doesn't make the outcome any more predictable, but it makes the internal model more stable.

Experience happens automatically. Process only improves when the loop closes on the right thing.

Related

Why I Run My Life From a Never-Ending Text File

Why a single, continuous log works better than complex tools.

You See What You’re Wired To See

How repetition quietly shapes perception

© 2026 SJMcCormick. All rights reserved.