I have long thought that I was a pure doer. I liked theories only in their ability to get me going in the field or enjoy pleasant conversations over a nice cup of tea. I preferred to read novels than long articles or textbooks. I preferred meeting people and live discussions to a thesis. My learning ground is the world.

Then I came to realize that this was not quite a true picture. One day I started to write and I realized that the only way to learn about myself seemed to write. In this parallel universe, I can be daring. No one would ever read the emotions so faithfully captured by a spontaneous poem. This seems to imply that I would have two learning styles depending on what I want to learn.
Then I met my first mentor and observing him and listening to his advice was incredibly helpful and provided a great number of insights as to what I could do better in many respects. Would I now have a third learning style?
How can I reconcile all of this? Do I have a learning style, or does this resemble my life: a seemingly messy patchwork?

Long pondering over this question, I might now possess an answer. Not entirely satisfying but helpful: I can identify a comfort, preferential and effective learning zones. I have just introduced three terms which I must now define.

It looks like I have an effective learning style, or zone. This is doing. Sailing is probably the most acute example of this: I do not believe that one can claim that they can sail without having held the helm in their hands and hoisted a sail. Doing is also the only way for me to find out how much I have actually learned: have I been effective? My confidence level increases with expertise which in turn increases with practice. So, in that sense, I still learn by doing.
Is this where I feel most comfortable? Clearly no. I would not wake up one day, decide I’ll learn some sailing today, drive to a harbor, rig up the first boat that I come across, talk someone into crewing for me under the false pretence that it would be the best possible way to become a babe magnet and set about crossing the Atlantic Ocean. I like learning in a non consequential environment.
I started to learn sailing the hard way: as a typical engineer, I left with a dinghy with the certainty that I’ll figure everything out. After fifteen successive capsizing waves, I decided to take a couple of classes, first theoretical, then on the water. I learned about the various points of sail, the forces applied on the boat. I knew what each sheet was supposed to do and how the sails worked together with the steering. Then, whether I listen, read, observe or just bring someone along as a safety net makes little difference. Or rather, anything goes. I can spend a night at the library to study the lives and major crossings of the top 200 navigators in the world, go through 20,000 practice navigation problems, submit myself to simulation exercises in a bathtub, construct a Lego model of the Titanic, put it in the sink and apply current on it or write an essay about the art of the mainsail, sewing techniques and the benefits of Kevlar. I am just increasing my comfort zone before I do it in the real world.
Now that I can skipper, I enjoy telling people about sailing. The ultimate challenge.

Finally, I identified a preference which is neither doing, nor reading, nor writing. It is talking. I first thought it was only a kind of self-evaluation, back by a third party: if I could explain back what I have just absorbed, then I must truly master it. It is kind of a self-evaluation, backed up by a third party. At times, though I tried to explain something I did not understand to somebody. Having to go through the exercise of clearly articulating my thoughts and knowledge locked everything into place.

INSEAD is kind of a non-consequential learning environment (if one sets aside the grading system), it is kind of a place where you can do things (project and case studies). It is also an environment where you can absorb as much theory as you like (there aren't enough days in a year for you to browse through all the readings at the library). It is also an environment where you get to do A LOT of writing (apart from this blog, the number of papers is just mind-blogging, sorry, mind-boggling) - and where most professors ask you to do a lot of talking through stand-in presentations.

Do you care? Probably not!
Where does this lead me to? No idea.