Dear Jerxy: Too Late For Something New?

Dear Jerxy: I’ve been a fan of yours for years, but I rarely bite the bullet and engage in your style of tricks. Last weekend [a friend and fellow jerx-reader] stayed with me and joined me out socially. He performed a few tricks in your style and I finally “got it” when I saw the reactions. As much as I want to explore your style of trick I think it might be too late for me. I’ve been doing mainly card tricks with some coin work for over twenty years and I don’t think people will buy a change from that into the types of presentations you dig into. I’m not sure at this point they’ll go along with stories about rituals and good luck charms and cursed objects and fringe science. What do you think? Am I just being a baby?

Signed,
Transitioning Out Of Traditionalism

Dear TOOT: Yes, you’re being a baby. You have pigeon-holed yourself. That’s not the people you perform for doing that; that’s you.

I did a series on transitioning your style of performance back in 2019. It might be a good time to revisit that if you’re considering doing so.

Don’t worry about getting into tricks that hit on weirder or more “magical” subjects. People aren’t going to say, “Heyyyy… you were doing card tricks for the past 20 years and now you’re ‘tuning our intuition’ and messing with time travel? Who do you think you’re kidding?”

I have probably100s of emails over the years from people who have changed to a more immersive, story-centric style of performing and I’ve never heard of anyone saying they tried it and their audience was bothered or upset and urged them to go back to a regular card trick.

People will definitely “go along” with it.

I just finished a book called, “The Boys Are Back In Town” by Christopher Golden. In the book, it’s this guy’s 10-year high school reunion. But details in his life start to change. His memories don’t line up with his reality. He’s informed that a guy who he was just e-mailing with the other day actually died when he was hit by a car back in high school. Things like that. And he soon realizes that someone is going back and changing things in the past which is changing his present. At first, he suspects his childhood friend. They both had an interest in magic and pursued it when they were kids.

What type of magic stuff were they reading about at that time? Sleight-of-hand. Stage illusions. Time-travel. Spells. “Self-help bullshit." Rituals. Devil worship. And more.

Now, when Christopher Golden was writing this book, he was writing out all of those things as subjects someone with an interest in magic might encounter as they delved into the topic.

And when he submitted his book to his editor, his editor wasn't like, "I don't understand. What do these topics have to do with one another?" They understood that pursuing an interest in magic is something that should draw you into all sorts of variations on the topic from the theatrical to the psychological to the mystical.

Lay people don't draw the distinctions that we do. I've had people who have seen me do nothing but traditional card tricks ask me about tarot and fortune telling. It's all along the same spectrum to them.

So you can always say, "You know, I picked up this weird book a couple of weeks ago. I thought it was just another book on sleight-of-hand. But a few chapters in it started to delve into some stranger concepts. Can I try something out with you? it's a little... different." People won’t think you’re now trying to convince them of some sort of supernatural power. They’ll just be ready for something that goes in a new direction. In fact, the more they've seen you do standard magic, the more on board they will be for something different.


Okay

5 Things to Make Vanish

Trash

This is my favorite thing to vanish. Balled-up napkins. Straw wrappers. Coffee stirrer sticks. Receipts.

When people think about what they would do with real magic powers, they think of things like making money appear, or making people fall in love with them, or healing illness. Things like that.

And sure, that’s what you’d do if you had real wizard-like magic powers. But if you had real low-level powers, I think making trash vanish would be something you’d do on the regular.

This is something I pretty much only do on the offbeat. Often when I’m not even with anyone. I’ll get my coffee from the pick-up bar and the receipt is on top. I’ll head to a table. Ball up the receipt, false-transfer it into one hand. Continue to squeeze that hand a bit while my other hand ditches the receipt in my lap or pocket. This whole time I’m looking at my phone or laptop (this is where the Distracted Artist style originated). Then I’ll open my hand and briefly pay attention to it, blow across my palm, and look up as if I’m following something as it floats off into the air. That final action—where I am paying it some attention—takes half a second. Then I’m back focused on my book or phone or whatever.

I’ve vanished trash in the Distracted Artist way probably at least 2000 times in the past 10 years. Maybe 90+% of the time it goes unnoticed (or I don’t notice someone noticing). About 1 in 10 times I can see someone tilt their head or say something to someone they’re with and point to me out of my peripheral vision. And then maybe once every 2 or 3 months, someone will stand up, come over to me and be like, “I’m sorry… what just happened to your cocktail napkin?” (Or whatever.)

Now, 60 of those interactions over 2000 “performances” might not seem like a good batting average. But I’m convinced that I’ve had more of an impact by performing it this way than I would if I said, “Hey, watch this!” And drew attention to the vanish.

Pens

Pens have to be the most satisfying thing to vanish. Do a flip stick vanish.

And from there, it practically sleeves itself with a little flick.

Then you can say, “Oh, shoot. I still need that.” And reach into your bag and pull it out again. Or get up and go over to a drawer and pull it out of there. (Actually, it’s falling out of your sleeve as you reach into the bag or drawer.) So it’s as if you vanish the pen to wherever you normally keep it.

Money

I vanish change like I vanish trash. As if it’s a nuisance and I just want to be rid of it.

But when people notice I say, “Oh, I just don’t like carrying around change. I don’t even know why we have change these days. Just round things to the nearest dollar. It’s not 1950 where a nickel gets you two movies and popcorn. So yeah, I just send it away to a special savings account I have. When that account gets up to $100, I take myself out for a special meal.”

The Rep of having a special little savings account that you treat yourself with once your vanished change reaches a certain total is a fun, stupid little specific that also seems perfectly rational in a slightly magical world.

Cigarettes

The bare-handed vanish of a lit cigarette is probably the strongest close-up vanish you can do. It uses a cigarette pull and I keep one rigged up in one of my jackets during the cold months.

I don’t smoke. But when I’m around smokers it’s something I’ll frequently take the opportunity to do.

I tell them the cigarette has gone back in time and reappeared, unsmoked, back in their pack. Unless they just opened the pack or have only a few left, they usually can’t say for certain this isn’t the case. And they can’t get mad at me for denying them a cigarette. “No, it went back in time and is now back in the pack. And you had already smoked it a little so actually I gave you some extra cigarette-smoking pleasure. You’re welcome.”

Condoms

I’ve only done this once. I vanished a condom (in its package). And made it reappear (on my package).

I was heading to the bedroom with my girlfriend at the time, and she stopped in the bathroom for a moment while I prepped myself (so to speak).

When she got in the room and we were rolling around, I had her grab me a condom. When she was about to open it I said, “No, it’s cool. I got it.” I vanished it, then gestured for her to undo my pants for the big (well… medium-sized) reveal.

Black Holes and Lecture Patter

Consider this optical illusion of a black hole which seems to shift and grow as you look at it.

Here’s a New York Times article that explains how the movement people see in this picture is possibly caused by your brain trying to anticipate the near future.

From the article:

One hypothesis, Dr. Laeng said, is that the brain is trying to predict and show us the future.

It takes time for a stimulus, like light, to reach our sensory organs, which need to send it to the brain, which in turn needs to process, make sense of, and do something with that information. And by the time our brain catches up with the present, time has already moved forward, and the world has changed.

To get around this, the brain may be constantly trying to predict a little bit into the future in order to perceive the present.

Seeing the expanding hole illusion is not a flaw, but a feature: It’s the result of your brain’s strategy to navigate an uncertain, ever-changing world, most likely built up from evolutionary history to ultimately help humanity survive. It is adaptive to predict the future by, say, dilating your pupils in anticipation of going somewhere dark.

Knowing that’s what potentially causing the illusion, this image could make a good Imp or Hook for a prediction effect. Or a lead-in to a spectator as mentalist plot where the illusion is used to identify someone with potential prediction capabilities.

But how do you incorporate things like this in a trick in casual situations? The wrong way, in my opinion, is to do something like this:

“Take a look at this image of a black hole. Does it seem to move and expand as you look at it? I’ll tell you why that is. It takes time for light to reach our sensory organs which need to process that information and send it to our brain. And in that time things have already moved forward. So the brain is constantly trying to predict a little bit into the future. In this case, your pupils are dilating in anticipation of going into a dark hole. And it’s this dilation of the pupils that causes the image to seem to grow. If your mind is good at anticipating the future, let’s see if we can exploit that in other ways.”

I call this sort of thing “Lecture Patter.” It sounds like you’re listening to a rehearsed lecture. It’s not the way friends talk when they get together. It says, “I’ve anticipated this moment and prepared for it and you are just the person I decided to unleash this on. Pat attention. Class is in session.” Everything feels pre-planned.

So here’s how I use something like this. One of my favorite summer activities is to meet a friend in the late evening at an ice cream stand. We sit on the hood of my car and catch up and stuff our faces with ice cream. What’s better than that?

This is not the time to give a dissertation on the fucking human retina or something.

But, as often happens, we might scan through some pictures on our phones to show the other person. In that process, I stumble over an image I saved to my phone from something I had been reading.

“Oh hey. Take a look at this. Does that black spot look like it’s moving or growing to you?”

She says yes. I straighten up. “Oh yeah? It’s definitely noticeable? Cool. I’ve shown it to a few people but you’re the first to really see it. I mean, almost everyone sees it a little bit. But you’re the first one to really notice it. Interesting. Hmm… there’s something I want to try with you later.” Later could be later that night, next week, or whenever.

Whenever “later” arrives, I can now give a couple of sentences of exposition. “Remember that picture I showed you with the black spot that seemed to grow? Well, apparently what causes that is that your mind sees the hole and your brain is predicting the immediate future of going into that hole. Because of the perspective of the image, I think. So your mind sees the hole growing as if you’re getting closer because that’s what it expects.”

This isn’t exactly what’s happening, but it’s close enough that even if they were to research it afterward, it would seem like I was in the same ballpark.

“At any rate, one of these weird mentalist guys that I’m friends with online was saying that picture is a good test to sort-of identify people with strong… like… I forget the exact phrase. Hyper-short-term-precognition. Or something like that. Being able to project your mind into the very near future. Because that’s who that image seems to work best with. And he came up with this little test I wanted to try with you.”

You see how this feels like a totally different interaction than the standard Lecture Patter version, yes? It feels like we’re discovering something together, rather than them being sat down for a formal presentation. I set the Hook at an earlier point in time. Very casually. I want them to feel like this is something unusual. Something I wasn’t prepared for. Their ability to really sense this optical illusion has supposedly told me something about them that I didn’t know. If I immediately transition into some trick as if I was prepared for this all along, that suggests the whole optical illusion thing was just a planned pretext.

And even when the time comes later, I’m still not some “expert” on the subject. I use a lot of qualifying words and phrases: “apparently,” “I think,” “I forget,” “something like that.” This is how people talk about subjects they lack certainty on.

Avoiding Lecture Patter is one of the ways we can make magic feel more spontaneous and unpredictable. Even though most people we perform for will understand magic is fake, and practiced, and scripted, you don’t have to perform in such a way that feeds into that feeling.

Thanks to David S. for tipping me off about this illusion last year.

Mailbag #92

[W]ho was the one who thought merely cutting a chosen card to the top is obvious, yet when you do a double undercut the technique suddenly becomes invisible? —ML

It’s a fair question, although I don’t think anyone ever thought it was “invisible,” they just thought it was somewhat less obvious than cutting directly back to the same location.

When we tested controls, we found that the only way to really make people think a card was genuinely lost in the deck was to use a control that allowed them to mix the cards in some manner. Otherwise, you’re just kind of kidding yourself.

My go-to control these days is to cull the card to the bottom and either cop it (if I’m standing) or lap it (if I’m sitting) or drop it over the side of the pool (if I’m swimming).


 LOL......I do [Tequila Hustler] with a cigar cutter shaped like a bullet and tell spec he is suspect in a murder, then go thru the routine.   I had NEVER thought of doing it as a sexual hustle, but I tried it and it was hilarious!!  My wife, who normally rolls her eyes at stuff, suddenly became verrrrrrrrrrrrry interested, if you catch my drift. —A

Hopefully you had her rolling her eyes in a different way.

It’s funny because there are a lot of 13-year-old boys who get into magic and think it’s going to impress a girl and make her fall for him. Most of them grow out of that notion. But they overcorrect and think that magic can’t be flirty or sexy. They go so far as to think women don’t like magic.

If you have the emotional intelligence to be able to identify the right situations, the right people, and the right tricks—magic can be a huge means of seductive connection with people. I don’t write too much about it here because those of you who know, already know. And for those who don’t, I don’t really trust you to wield that power responsibly.

I do have a book on the subject partially written. My big dilemma is trying to think how to get it in the hands of non-creeps.


Do you belong to any magic subscription sites? I’ve subscribed to half a dozen or so and I’m not sure it’s a good use of my money.

Joel Dickinson’s Patreon has some good stuff. He’s started hosting lectures now which is what keeps me subscribed. I miss the Penguin Lectures.

Ben Earl’s “Family” subscription service has some nice stuff but delves into a lot of subjects and moves I’m not really interested in.

The Netrix is not for me at all. I like a lot of Craig’s individual releases but the stuff here doesn’t do it for me.

Fiver Friday by Ollie Mealing - I got in on this when it was cheap and I feel it’s been worth it. I probably wouldn’t pay the price it’s at now though.

Magic Stream - This is Ellusionist’s streaming service. It’s not too bad. But it mostly seems like a dumping ground for their lower tier effects.

Are you a part of any subscription services that you’d recommend? I have a hard time quitting them because I keep thinking the NEXT release will be the one I really want to have. —AS

The only thing close to a subscription service that I would recommend without reservation is a digital subscription to Genii magazine.

In general, most all of these subscription services are bad deals.

I’ll look at one that I like: Christian Grace’s Magic Monthly. This costs about 17 dollars a month and you get two tricks each moths. So… $8.50 per trick.

That’s a pretty good deal on a per-trick average. Your average instant download effect is maybe $10-$15.

But, of course, you get to choose the tricks you want when you’re buying an instant download.

Here you’re blindly paying $8.50 per random trick which you may or may not do. It might not even be a premise you’re interested in.

Perhaps you’ll want to do one out of every five tricks Chris releases on his site. Well, then you’re paying about $42 per trick you like. If it’s more like one out of 10, then you’re paying $85 per trick that you’ll be doing. That’s not a great deal. But I still support Christian’s site.

I don’t think it’s smart to view these subscription sites as you panning for gold; paying your monthly subscription fee and just hoping to find a nugget of something valuable. That’s going to be disappointing in the long run. The very best things these people create are most likely not going to be uploaded on their subscription service.

I think it’s better to think of these subscription services as a way for you to be a benefactor to the creators that you like. Don’t think of it as “buying tricks.” Ask yourself, “Would I be genuinely upset if this person stopped creating magic?” There are a lot of magicians I like, but it wouldn’t bother me too much if they quit magic to manage a garden center. But for the few magicians I’m really into, I definitely want to take whatever opportunity I can to support their work. Just the act of supporting their work brings me pleasure.

Thinking of it this way makes me less inclined to pay for many subscription-based magic services. But much more content with the ones that I do.

Dustings #87

I received this email a few hours ago…

A guy pausing his wedding ceremony to do a magic trick is a bad enough idea in the first place. I’m sure his wife was like…

But look, if you’re going to stop your vows to shine the spotlight on yourself for a bit in order to do a Dan Harlan trick, I recommend going full-trainwreck and doing Fart-Toon.


Here’s a good resource for anyone who is a magic wallet afficionado or collector, or just buy-curious and want to do some research with a lot of options in the same place. It’s chamberofwallets.com and it has information on over 220 magic wallets.


If you have issue #9 of the Love Letters newsletter, this is a good idea from Jonathan FC in regards to the variation on the ACAAN trick that opens that issue. (It won’t make sense if you don’t have that.)

Just a small touch for this effect i thought you would like.

I still havent performed it but i like the look of your version.

For 1 of the 4 outs... put the deck inside the box of the deck you will be using during the performance. Leave your "touching" deck out on top of this full box. And make sure the deck inside the box is a different color deck (both to the box and the deck in use)

I think thats a nice out for the effect. And it still feels inevitable.


Another email I received recently…

Oooohhh… how Joshua Jay closes his show? I always assumed it was something like this…

A Critical Examination of the MindReader Trailer

A new Christian evangelical movie is out called MindReader. Let’s watch the trailer to see what type of insights we can get into the film.

It opens with a shot of a marquee for The Great Dexter.

The movie takes place in 1974. Was anyone still calling themselves “The Great ____” at this point in time? That seems like something that was at least half a century out of vogue. Someone should bring that back. I miss the days when magicians were like, “Damn. If I don’t describe myself with an adjective, someone else is going to choose one for me. And I’m probably not going to like that one at all.” It’s a good technique because it turns any overt criticism into a mixed message at the very worst. “Joshua Jay the Magnificent sucks shit.” Well… which is it?

We then get a clip of Dexter’s show. It seems like his whole schtick is getting people to write things down on pads and then he tells them what they wrote on the pad.

That’s a lot of pad-based magic. He then asks the audience, “Please, show us your pads.” A line shared by both Dexter the Great and Dexter the Menophiliac.

We also get a peek at Dexter’s promotional material,

This is, of course, a direct rip-off of the Alexander tag line.

I’m a big believer in intellectual property and I feel like Dexter should have to change his to “The Man Who Also Knows” or “One of At Least Two Men Who Know.”

We are then given a surprisingly accurate seeming review of the show as being a “boring routine at a two-bit theater.”

But then we learn that this “boring routine” is “packing out” the theater every time they put on a show.

That makes the opening marquee more confusing to me. If he’s so popular, why is he part of a variety show? This is 1974. It’s not vaudeville. This show seems wildly out of place. I mean in 1974 people were going to the theater to see Godfather II and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. They weren’t going to variety shows featuring The Great Dexter, a puppet act, a singer, and comedy xylophonist Professor Lamberti.

As for our main character, Dexter himself is part Jesus Christ and part Mitch Hedburg.

He closes his show by saying, “My name is Dexter and I don’t really do magic, I just read minds.” Which doesn’t make a ton of sense to me. They put it in the trailer as if it’s somehow meaningful, but I don’t really get it. If he closed his show by saying, “I don’t really do magic, I just read pads,” that would at least feel somewhat more accurate.

Watching the rest of the trailer, I’m not sure exactly what is going on in the movie. It seems like the local magic association is trying to get Dexter’s show taken down because… they can’t figure out his tricks or something? Or they think his shitty mind reading is going to make their magic irrelevant or something like that? I’m not sure.

They might be right, given that this—hilariously—is the shot used to illustrate the local magic association.

I genuinely think Dexter is maybe supposed to be a proxy for Jesus? 🤷‍♂️ I really have no idea. This is a movie that’s being shown one theater at a time at the moment. So I’m going to have to track down a showing if I want to fully understand it. The only thing it says on the movie’s website is:

The year is 1974 and The Great Dexter is the closing act in a variety show at The Temple Theatre. His amazing mindreading act fools everyone, including the local magicians’ association. As Dexter’s popularity grows, so does the association’s jealousy as they try to shut his act down and figure out how it’s done.”

Other than that, there’s not much to go on. The site has a “gallery” page, but is it technically a “gallery” if it only has one picture?

Beyond the one-picture-gallery there’s little more besides the trailer on the movie’s site. Well, there’s a link to get a signed picture of the actor who plays Dexter at ChristianMovies.com. And it was on that site I also learned about one of the diretor’s other Christian films. I didn’t look into this one, but the title sounds like it could be a look at one of the church’s darker periods and the forcible oral sodomy of so many young altar boys.

The Limits of Visual Magic: Part Three

Before I continue in this series, I should probably make clear a differentiation that might not be obvious.

In this series of posts, I’m thinking about tricks where the magic happens visibly. A card that changes into another card with no cover is an example of that.

But there are many effects that register with an audience through their eyes that I’m not counting as “visual magic.” For example, if I take a bottle and put it in a paper bag and then scrunch up the paper bag, the audience is seeing that magic take place. But they’re not seeing the magic moment itself happening visually. They’re not literally seeing the bottle dematerialize. They saw a bottle placed in a bag. Then they saw the bag get crunched up. The magic happened somewhere between those moments. Just like some of the test groups saw the face of the card, then the face was turned away from them, and it was a different card when it was turned around. That’s magic that they perceive with their eyes (as opposed to, like, mentalism or something) but it’s not what I mean when I talk about “visual magic.”

That’s probably clear, but I just wanted to get that distinction on the record.


In the last post, I wrote about testing a visual card change. When we re-tested the visual card change and allowed it to be examinable at the end, the scores for how “impossible/amazing” the trick was increased significantly. But the score for their enjoyment of the trick didn’t go up that much.

In previous testing that we did on examinability, when the “impossibility” score went up, the “enjoyment” score went up similarly.

[You can’t really compare the raw numbers between these two tests because they happened five years apart and we had different instructions and a different scale that people were rating on back then. But you can make assumptions based on the percentage changes in the scores.]

In that testing, we performed a color-changing deck routine, a coin routine (where three copper changed into three silver (or vice-versa—who knows, who cares)), and a Rubik’s cube effect where a cube instantaneously solved itself.

In that old post, I wrote:

While I had assumed being able to take a look at the object of a magic effect would make the trick more powerful, I was a little surprised by the magnitude of the difference. But another surprise came when my friend looked at the scores given for "overall enjoyment." When comparing the examined tricks to the non-examined tricks, he found that examination increased the overall enjoyment score by almost 25% on average.

I asked my friend to break down the per-trick increase of enjoyment that made up that 25% on average.

The card trick went up 33%
The coin trick went up 28%
The Rubik’s cube trick went up 14%

Here I saw, again, that the trick where the magic happened visually (the Rubik’s cube effect) did not have a correspondingly big increase in the enjoyment factor, even when impossibility increased significantly. (For that trick, the impossibility score more than doubled.)

Ignore the “examinability” aspect here because that’s a different subject and doesn’t really play into the conclusion I was coming to, which is this:

I think there is a limit to how much audience’s can appreciate magic that happens visibly.

This is why the enjoyment scores for the visible tricks we tested were the least impacted by increased impossibility scores.

And while I don’t personally quantify “enjoyment” when I perform, I do quantify the memorability of a trick, as talked about in this post. That is, I keep track of how long after a trick the person I perform for still talks about it or mentions it. And that’s probably fairly comparable to enjoyment.

When I scanned through my data for “memorability” I saw that most of the highly visual tricks I did had little to no resonance. People rarely brought them back up again.

Here is my theory:

500 years ago, when you pulled off the chicken’s head (that’s not a euphemism for masturbation) and re-attached it, I think people said, “That was some kind of trick or this man is a genuine wizard.”

These days, the “wizard” thing is off the table. So it’s just. “That was some kind of trick.” In other words, “There’s some way of making it look like you pull off and reattach a chicken’s head that I don’t understand.” And at this time in the arc of humanity, people are just much more comfortable with the idea that they don’t know how something happened. Through all our waking hours we are surrounded by technology that we don’t understand. So just seeing something that you can’t explain isn’t the experience that it was 500 years ago. Or even 50 years ago.

The impossible has lost its novelty.

When they see a card that changes visibly in front of their faces, they pretty much have a grasp on the nature of the experience: “This is a magic trick and I don’t know how it’s done.” I think they appreciate it visually, but I think it’s limited in the enjoyment they can take from it.

But when the card changes in an implied way, they have less of an understanding of what they just saw. Did the card itself change? Or is there some possible way it could be secretly switched?

And if you add more of a narrative on top of the change—maybe you say it’s part of something you’re practicing to cheat at a poker game later; or you say the card never changed, you actually got them to misremember the card they saw—then you can create even more fuzziness around the nature of what they just experienced.

And I think that “fuzziness” is part of what people appreciate or hold onto most from a magic trick these days. They don’t just want to see the impossible, they want to experience the mysterious.

Impossible ≠ Mysterious

An impossible visual trick is just another one of the many things they don’t understand.

One final piece of evidence I have for this comes from the “memorability tracking” I’ve done for almost six years now.

A lot of the quick, visual tricks I have in my repertoire are ones that I often perform in the Distracted Artist style. That is, I perform them on the offbeat, as if unintentionally. And then there are times when I perform them in a more traditional style. And the memorability scores for the Distracted Artist performances far exceed the traditional ones. Why should that be? In one case I say, “Watch,” and I ball up my napkin and make it vanish. In the other, I wipe my face after the meal, ball up my napkin, and make it vanish without paying it any attention. Then, when my friend comments on it I say, “Oh did I make it vanish? Oh yeah, I guess so. It’s an old habit. Muscle memory.” In theory, you might expect the performance where they’re focusing on the napkin and watching it disappear would be more memorable than the one where the trick happens incidentally. But that’s not the case. The Distracted Artist performance makes the nature of what they just saw a mystery. And that’s the element that seems to stay with people.

I believe the tricks that really resonate with people are not the ones where they’re just saying, “How did he do that?” It’s the ones where they’re saying, “What exactly just happened?”

When a trick is too visual, it removes the “what” aspect and leaves only the “how.”