Stop optimizing; You have no idea what you're talking about.

I spent a long time stuck in what mathematicians call a "local optimum."

A "local optimum" is a fancy term for a common mistake people make when they're trying to solve difficult problems. Imagine you're climbing a hill in thick fog, trying to get to the highest possible peak. You walk uphill, step by step, because going uphill seems obviously correct. At some point, you reach a small peak. It feels good: you've climbed, you can't see anything higher nearby, and each step forward, backward, or sideways now goes downhill. So you stay put, convinced you've reached the highest point.

But here's the problem: Because of the fog, you don't realize that this little hill isn't actually the highest point around. If you had been willing to walk downhill for a moment—to lose a bit of altitude—you might have found a path toward a much higher peak elsewhere, a "global optimum."

This trap doesn't just happen to mathematicians or engineers. It happens to all of us—especially smart, driven people—when we obsessively optimize without asking if we're even climbing the right hill.

For years, I optimized furiously. As a medical student, I meticulously refined study habits, improved note-taking systems, tweaked my schedule for maximum productivity, and obsessed over test-taking strategies. Every day I got slightly better. My grades reflected it. My peers praised me for being efficient, disciplined, and productive.

But beneath the surface, I was uneasy. Every incremental gain felt satisfying—yet strangely empty. I wasn't sure exactly why until I finally paused and forced myself to orient rather than just optimize:

"What am I actually climbing toward?"

That question was profoundly uncomfortable. When I finally confronted it honestly, I realized I was optimizing toward a local optimum: the best possible version of a career path I didn't actually want.

I had mistaken optimization for orientation.

The Difference Between Optimizing and Orienting

Optimization is straightforward. It's about making incremental improvements to achieve a clearly defined goal more efficiently.

Orientation, on the other hand, is about deciding which goal to pursue in the first place.

This difference is critical, but subtle enough that most smart people miss it entirely. Optimization feels productive because it delivers tangible, incremental results quickly. Each small improvement—each incremental increase in efficiency or productivity—feels rewarding.

But orientation is different. It requires stepping back, examining your fundamental assumptions, and facing deeply uncomfortable questions:

• "Is this goal actually meaningful?"
• "Am I climbing the right hill?"
• "Could I be optimizing toward the wrong destination?"

How Smart People Get Stuck in Local Optima

Smart, driven people are especially vulnerable to getting trapped at local optima precisely because optimization works so well for them. If you're intelligent, disciplined, and competent, you become exceptionally good at incremental improvements. You climb quickly, efficiently, confidently.

But precisely because optimization feels so good, you rarely pause to check if you're optimizing the correct thing. And the longer you spend optimizing a local peak, the harder it feels to walk back down and find a higher one elsewhere. The sunk-cost bias is powerful: you hate to lose hard-earned altitude—even if it's altitude on the wrong hill.

I felt this viscerally in med school. I'd invested years building the perfect routines, academic skills, and credentials. Admitting I might be optimizing toward the wrong goal felt terrifying, because it meant throwing away what I’d so carefully built.

But clarity doesn't care how painful it is to admit. Clarity just shows you reality—and reality was that I'd been optimizing in the wrong direction.

How to Orient (Instead of Just Optimize)

Orientation means regularly and deliberately stepping back to check whether you're climbing the right hill:

1. Explicitly Define Your Global Optimum

Ask yourself honestly: "If everything worked perfectly, what outcome would I actually want?"

Not "What feels achievable?" or "What am I currently good at?"—but "What would I genuinely choose if I could pick any outcome?"

Make yourself write it down explicitly. Doing this exposes gaps between what you're optimizing now and what you truly want.

2. Recognize When You’re Stuck at a Local Optimum

When incremental improvement stops feeling meaningful or fulfilling, it's a red flag you're at a local optimum. Notice when improving your current path no longer feels like real progress—just busywork.

3. Don’t Fear Temporary Declines

Walking away from a local optimum to find a higher global optimum means temporarily losing altitude. You might seem less successful, less productive, or less certain to others. But remember, temporarily losing height is not failure—it's a strategic step toward something higher.

4. Re-Optimize Only After Re-Orienting Clearly

Once you're confident you're climbing the right hill, go all in on optimization again. Optimization is incredibly powerful—but only if your direction is correct first.

My Own Reorientation (and Why It Was Worth It)

I chose medicine originally because it seemed prestigious and stable. I optimized ruthlessly within that path. But once I oriented honestly, I realized my true global optimum—my real aspiration—was to build companies, leverage technology, shape healthcare systems, and impact many lives at scale.

That clarity was painful. It meant I'd spent years optimizing toward the wrong peak. It meant temporarily stepping down from a clearly defined, stable career path and moving toward a less certain but far more meaningful one.

Yet orientation was also freeing. Because once I knew clearly the direction I wanted, I could optimize far more purposefully. Now I wasn't just blindly improving; every step forward had leverage, clarity, and intention behind it.

The momentary loss of certainty and comfort was the price of long-term clarity. It was worth paying.

Final Thought: Optimize After You Orient, Not Before

Optimization without orientation is a recipe for climbing the wrong hill faster.

Orientation comes first, always. And orientation requires humility. It demands periodically admitting that maybe your carefully optimized progress isn't real progress at all.

But orientation also grants you genuine clarity—the most valuable leverage there is. Because clarity allows you to climb with purpose, not just efficiency.

Don't get trapped on local optima. Pause. Orient. Face the discomfort.

Because climbing the right hill slowly beats racing quickly toward nowhere every single time.

— Ali

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