Memory versus remembering

There’s a view about memory that’s 🔄 counter-intuitive and a bit of a 🌶 hot take: According to ecological dynamics, there is no such thing as memory—at least not in the way we usually think of it. Instead, memory is a metaphor we use to describe a function of the brain: remembering.

We humans operate in the physical world where objects are stored in places and retrieved when needed. Naturally, we extend this metaphor to the brain. We assume memories are stored like objects in a cabinet, waiting to be retrieved. This is why so much of fiction—from Inside Out to Sherlock Holmes—treats memory as a limited storage system. Holmes, famously, avoided learning unnecessary facts, fearing they’d “fill up” his brain like a cluttered attic.

But what if that entire model is wrong? Maybe Sherlock Holmes wasn’t a genius.

“Verb your nouns”

In ecological dynamics, they say: “verb your nouns.” Instead of studying memory, study the act of remembering.

• In my brain, there are no pots and pans sitting in memory cabinets.
• If I move an object, I’m not moving a mental reference to a new “storage location.”
• Remembering where I put something isn’t a function of my brain alone.
• Remembering is a function of my brain as it interacts with the environment again and again.

Consider my spatula. If I always keep my spatula in the same drawer, my brain doesn’t store that fact as a piece of discrete information in a database. Instead, it becomes attuned to the action of reaching for the drawer where my spatula is stored, just like my hand automatically finds the light switch when I walk in the house.

And here’s where I fool myself: when I imagine the spatula lying in the drawer, that imagery feels like I’m retrieving a stored representation. But that’s just another action—one I’ve become attuned to performing when I need my spatula. It’s not a stored image like a pre-existing JPG; it’s an active reconstruction, more like an ad hoc AI-generated image, shaped by my past interactions.

Let’s say I need to stir a big pot of chili.

• I generate an image of my spatula.
• At the same time, I reach for the drawer.
• I might mistakenly assume the image caused the action, but in reality, both were actions performed in parallel.

Neither the imagery nor the reaching is a “memory” in the storage-and-retrieval sense. Both are actions I perform in response to a goal. Both shape my perceptions and guide my future actions.

Each time I repeat this cycle, I become more attuned to my environment. I don’t retrieve a memory—I perform a skilled response, shaped by prior experience.

The takeaway

This means that memory isn’t something we store, but remembering is something we do.

• We don’t retrieve knowledge from a mental archive—we engage in skilled, perception-action loops that allow us to reconstruct experiences.
• I don’t access the stored location of my spatula—I become attuned to actions like generating an image and reaching for the drawer.
• What we call “memory” is just the result of a brain-body-environment system adapting over time.

Even trying to remember all this rigamarole will require attunement over time. “One does not simply memorize ecological dynamics.”