What Are The "Big Rocks" in Learning?

When we approach a new subject—whether it’s a programming language, a musical instrument, or the rules of a sport—we encounter a sea of information. Some of it is crucial. Some of it is interesting but optional. And some of it, frankly, will be forgotten or revised later. The principle of Big Rocks First is simple: start by identifying and internalizing the core ideas. These are the big rocks—the load-bearing concepts on which everything else rests.

It’s tempting to begin with the small stuff. In programming, that might mean memorizing syntax quirks or edge cases. In cooking, it might mean fussing over knife technique before understanding how heat transforms food. But when you begin with the small stuff, there’s no conceptual framework to hold it all together. You get overwhelmed. Or worse, you lose interest.

Learning is not just about accumulation. It’s about construction. Big rocks are the structural beams. The gravel and sand—the details—will come. But not first.

In practice, this means asking better questions at the start of the learning process. What is the one concept that, if understood deeply, will make everything else easier? What misconception, if cleared up early, will prevent confusion down the line? Big rocks are not always obvious, but they are always transformative.

Sports: Coaching the Fundamentals

Consider how a basketball coach trains young players. At the beginning of the season, the coach doesn’t start by teaching inbound play variations or how to read a 2-3 zone. The first practices focus on dribbling, passing, and shooting. These are the big rocks. Every advanced move—every fake, pick-and-roll, or transition play—builds on these basics.

Coaches know that without strong fundamentals, advanced tactics collapse under pressure. The player might know the playbook inside and out, but if they can’t dribble confidently or shoot under pressure, they won't succeed.

The same principle applies to learning to ski, swim, or swing a golf club. In all these domains, instructors focus on posture, balance, rhythm—the essential mechanics. These are what allow learners to stay afloat when conditions become complex. You don’t learn to surf by memorizing the physics of waves. You get on the board.

Even at the elite level, professionals return to fundamentals when things go wrong. A tennis player on a losing streak might revisit their serve technique; a marathoner might review foot strike and breathing. The basics are never outgrown—they are refined. That’s the hallmark of a true learning system rooted in big rocks.

Business: Vision Before Metrics

In business strategy, “Big Rocks First” shows up as vision, purpose, and positioning. When leaders skip directly to quarterly KPIs, channel strategies, or OKRs without establishing the “why” of the company, the business loses coherence. Employees become task-oriented rather than mission-driven. Decisions become reactive.

The story of Apple under Steve Jobs is often cited here. Upon returning to Apple in 1997, Jobs cut down the company’s bloated product line to just four quadrants. He focused the entire company on making a small number of excellent products. That decision wasn’t about optimizing margins or capturing market segments—it was about getting back to the core. The big rock was clarity of focus.

Only once that was reestablished could Apple build out the details: industrial design, supply chains, retail presence. Each innovation—iPod, iPhone, iPad—was poured in like gravel into the jar. But the foundation was set.

Companies that neglect this sequencing often find themselves in a strategy spiral, chasing trends or chasing competitors. Without anchoring decisions to foundational values, they become reactive and disjointed. Big rocks are the antidote to drift.

Fine Arts: Mastery Through Simplicity

In the fine arts, “Big Rocks First” is not just good pedagogy—it’s essential. Every beginner pianist is taught scales before sonatas. Painters study form before attempting abstraction. Chefs learn the basic flavor triangle—salt, fat, acid—before crafting signature dishes.

In music, the idea of “lying a little” to simplify is well established. A beginning guitar student might be taught a simplified version of a chord that doesn’t sound quite right but gets them playing quickly. Only later are they introduced to more complex fingerings, and eventually to the theory behind the chord’s construction.

This pedagogical lie is not deception—it’s scaffolding. We simplify in the beginning so the learner can grasp the shape of the concept. Only later do we let the full complexity reveal itself. Big rocks don’t have to be perfect or complete. They just need to be solid enough to support what comes next.

A good art teacher knows that mastery doesn’t begin with detail—it begins with bold strokes and big shapes. Students are trained to block in light and shadow before rendering eyelashes or petals. They learn to "see" the composition, not obsess over minutiae. This is how skill and insight emerge together.

The Psychology of Overwhelm

One of the most demotivating experiences in learning is early overwhelm. When we frontload detail, we deny the learner clarity. It’s like dumping all the sand into the jar and then wondering why the rocks won’t fit. Worse still, the learner blames themselves. “Maybe I’m just not good at this,” they think.

But the problem isn’t ability. It’s sequence.

Cognitive science backs this up. Working memory is limited. When we present too much, too early, learners hit capacity. But if we teach the big picture first—the mental model—details slot in more easily later. This is why analogies and diagrams work so well: they communicate structure.

To combat overwhelm, educators and learners alike can create a roadmap that highlights what must be grasped first. This approach not only reduces anxiety but accelerates competence. Instead of drowning in trivia, learners build confidence from a solid base.

Software Development: Patterns Before Exceptions

Back in the world of software, it’s common to see tutorials that immediately dive into language features: list comprehensions, closures, scope resolution. But when we teach new developers this way, they may copy the code, but they don’t understand it. The rock hasn’t been placed.

Contrast that with a mentor who says: "At its heart, programming is about input, transformation, and output." That’s a big rock. Or: "Functions are recipes—you give them ingredients, and they produce a result." Another rock.

Once these foundational metaphors are in place, everything else has somewhere to stick. The edge cases make sense because they’re deviations from a known shape.

Even experienced engineers benefit from returning to the basics. When debugging a complex issue, they strip away abstractions and revisit the fundamentals. What input went in? What output came out? What transformation occurred? In software, as in learning, clarity begins at the root.

How to Apply “Big Rocks First”

Here’s how to use this principle in your own learning—or in your teaching:

1. Start by spotting the big rocks. Every problem that can't be solved immediately is going to have a mixture of rocks, pebbles, and sand.
2. Be willing to lie a little! Find simplified explanations that are "good enough" to get going. You can revisit them later.
3. Don’t obsess over exceptions. Learn the 80% case first. Special cases and caveats come later.
4. Use analogies and metaphors. They shape the jar before you fill it.
5. Practice with purpose. Apply big rocks through real use—projects, exercises, challenges.

Each of these strategies reflects a simple truth: learning is layered. You can’t leap from pure beginner to mastery in a single step. Learn the main things first, ignoring the rest. And when you're ready, the long tail of edge cases and gory details will be glad to make themselves appear.