In providing an overview for this new blog's approach, I've so far touched on genetics and intelligence; now it's onto studies of talent and expertise that provide the third key puzzle piece. Taken together, they suggest -- to me at least -- a whole new way to think about high achievement.
Many of you have already read about some of the key research -- the famous 10,000-hours-to-greatness observation of Anders Ericsson and others, described in several recent smart books, including Geoff Colvin's Talent Is Overrated, Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers and Daniel Coyle's The Talent Code.*
These studies are important, not because they put a specific hour-number on what it takes to be a champion, but because of the big idea behind that number. The breathtaking insight that comes through in the work of Ericsson and colleagues is this: talent is not a thing, but a process -- a very slow, largely invisible process that, up till now, has been nearly impossible to document and therefore very easy to misread. As long as this slow accretion of skills went unseen and unarticulated, the mature skills themselves seemed almost magic. For many centuries, greatness appeared to be god-given; later, in the 20th century, it was understood as gene-given. All along, these ideas were reinforced by astounding child prodigy stories that seemed to be explainable only by unusual innate "gifts."**
Now, Ericsson and colleagues -- there are many, with hundreds of studies already published -- are making the invisible visible.*** They are showing how all abilities are based in process. They are exploding the myth of "giftedness."
Their work also dovetails with genetic-environment interaction, and with research showing how extraordinarily plastic the human brain is -- how we constantly change its structure with our moment-to-moment actions.
A new understanding thus emerges: the limits we think we see in ourselves and our kids are really more like obstacles, difficult but not impossible to overcome. What appear to be innate/genetic brick walls are actually just very steep hills to climb. According to this view, the real marvel of genetics is how their dynamic properties allow us to expand and expand and expand our abilities -- if we push hard enough and have the right resources. (These are big ifs.)
Which brings us back to the public fixation with innateness. Given what we've all been told about genes, it's perfectly understandable when we look at a clumsy 8 year-old boy and surmise: "He's got no athletic talent. He just doesn't have the genes for it." But the new science of talent suggests a very different conclusion:
• His clumsiness was developed, not inborn. He became clumsy over time in response to many gene-environment interactions.
• His development continues, and nothing is set in stone. While the odds are of course against him, no can say for certain whether this clumsy boy has professional sports in his future.
We simply don't know his ultimate potential, and neither will he until he marshals all of his resources to get there.
Genes will play a huge role, of course, and will ultimately limit him in some way. But we don't know precisely how.
Discovering our own potential is part of the marvel of being alive.
* I began writing (and blogging) about this stuff in 2007, long before any of these books were published. My book will come late behind these books, and will probably be dismissed by some as Johnny-come-lately. But I think mine has much to add, and hope it will be seen as a complement to them. The reality is, all of these books (including mine) were written concurrently; I, for one, did not read any of them before finishing mine.
** I'll tackle the issue of child prodigies in future posts, and in my book.
*** Here's a tiny sampling of the studies from Ericsson and colleagues:
Salthouse, T. A. EFFECTS OF AGE AND SKILL IN TYPING. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 1984.
Abernethy, B., et al. VISUAL-PERCEPTUAL AND COGNITIVE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN EXPERT, INTERMEDIATE, AND NOVICE SNOOKER PLAYERS. Applied Cognitive Psychology, 1994.
Krampe, R. Th., et al. MAINTAINING EXCELLENCE: DELIBERATE PRACTICE AND ELITE PERFORMANCE IN YOUNG AND OLDER PIANISTS. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 1996.
Higbee, K. L. NOVICES, APPRENTICES, AND MNEMONISTS: ACQUIRING EXPERTISE WITH THE PHONETIC MNEMONIC. Applied Cognitive Psychology, 1997.
Nevett, M. E., et al. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SPORT-SPECIFIC PLANNING, REHEARSAL, AND UPDATING OF PLANS DURING DEFENSIVE YOUTH BASEBALL GAME PERFORMANCE. Research Quarterly for Exercise and Sport, 1997.
Gabrielsson, A. THE PERFORMANCE OF MUSIC. In D. Deutsch (Ed.), The psychology of music, 1999.
Helson, W. F., et al. A MULTIDIMENSIONAL APPROACH TO SKILLED PERCEPTION AND PERFORMANCE IN SPORT. Applied Cognitive Psychology, 1999.
Helgerud, J., et al. AEROBIC ENDURANCE TRAINING IMPROVES SOCCER PERFORMANCE. Medicine and science in Sports and Exercise, 2001.
Goldspink, G. GENE EXPRESSION IN MUSCLE IN RESPONSE TO EXERCISE. Journal of Muscle Research and Cell Motility, 2003.
McPherson, S., et al. TACTICS, THE NEGLECTED ATTRIBUTE OF EXPERTISE: PROBLEM REPRESENTATIONS AND PERFORMANCE SKILLS IN TENNIS, 2003.
Pantev, C. et al. MUSIC AND LEARNING-INDUCED CORTICAL PLASTICITY. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 2003.
Duffy, L. J., et al. DART PERFORMANCE AS A FUNCTION OF FACETS OF PRACTICE AMONGST PROFESSIONAL AND AMATEUR MEN AND WOMEN PLAYERS. Int'l Journal of Sport Psychology, 2004.
Ericsson, K. A. DELIBERATE PRACTICE AND THE ACQUISITION AND MAINTENANCE OF EXPERT PERFORMANCE IN MEDICINE AND RELATED DOMAINS. Academic Medicine, 2004.
(Photo credit for the picture of the brain: http://www.flickr.com/photos/17657816@N05/1971827663)
The Islamic State is no mere collection of psychopaths. It is a religious group with carefully considered beliefs, among them that it is a key agent of the coming apocalypse. Here’s what that means for its strategy—and for how to stop it.
What is the Islamic State?
Where did it come from, and what are its intentions? The simplicity of these questions can be deceiving, and few Western leaders seem to know the answers. In December, The New York Times published confidential comments by Major General Michael K. Nagata, the Special Operations commander for the United States in the Middle East, admitting that he had hardly begun figuring out the Islamic State’s appeal. “We have not defeated the idea,” he said. “We do not even understand the idea.” In the past year, President Obama has referred to the Islamic State, variously, as “not Islamic” and as al-Qaeda’s “jayvee team,” statements that reflected confusion about the group, and may have contributed to significant strategic errors.
Some conservatives are defying expectation and backing the Vermont senator.
When Tarie MacMillan switched on her television in August to watch the first Republican presidential debate, she expected to decide which candidate to support.
But MacMillan, a 65-year-old Florida resident, was disappointed. “I looked at the stage and there was nobody out there who I really liked. It just seemed like a showcase for Trump and his ridiculous comments,” she recalled. “It was laughable, and scary, and a real turning point.”
So she decided to back Bernie Sanders, the self-described “Democratic socialist” challenging Hillary Clinton. MacMillan was a lifelong Republican voter until a few weeks ago when she switched her party affiliation to support the Vermont senator in the primary. It will be the first time she’s ever voted for a Democrat.
If you want to annoy a scientist, say that science isn’t so different from religion. When Ben Carson was challenged about his claim that Darwin was encouraged by the devil, he replied, “I’m not going to denigrate you because of your faith, and you shouldn’t denigrate me for mine.” When the literary theorist Stanley Fish chastised atheists such as Richard Dawkins, he wrote, “Science requires faith too before it can have reasons,” and described those who don't accept evolution as belonging to “a different faith community.”
Scientists are annoyed by these statements because they suggest that science and religion share a certain epistemological status. And, indeed, many humanists and theologians insist that there are multiple ways of knowing, and that religious narratives exist alongside scientific ones, and can even supersede them.
Why are so many kids with bright prospects killing themselves in Palo Alto?
The air shrieks, and life stops. First, from far away, comes a high whine like angry insects swarming, and then a trampling, like a herd moving through. The kids on their bikes who pass by the Caltrain crossing are eager to get home from school, but they know the drill. Brake. Wait for the train to pass. Five cars, double-decker, tearing past at 50 miles an hour. Too fast to see the faces of the Silicon Valley commuters on board, only a long silver thing with black teeth. A Caltrain coming into a station slows, invites you in. But a Caltrain at a crossing registers more like an ambulance, warning you fiercely out of its way.
The kids wait until the passing train forces a gust you can feel on your skin. The alarms ring and the red lights flash for a few seconds more, just in case. Then the gate lifts up, signaling that it’s safe to cross. All at once life revives: a rush of bikes, skateboards, helmets, backpacks, basketball shorts, boisterous conversation. “Ew, how old is that gum?” “The quiz is next week, dipshit.” On the road, a minivan makes a left a little too fast—nothing ominous, just a mom late for pickup. The air is again still, like it usually is in spring in Palo Alto. A woodpecker does its work nearby. A bee goes in search of jasmine, stinging no one.
Nobody’s focused on winning the peace. That’s a big problem.
In August 1941, Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt met off the coast of Newfoundland to outline a shared vision for the post-World War II era. The British prime minister was so thrilled to see the American president that, in the words of one official, “You’d have thought he was being carried up into the heavens to meet God.” The two countries issued the Atlantic Charter, which sought “a better future for the world” through the principles of self-determination, collective security, and free trade. The United States hadn’t even entered the war yet, but it was already focused on winning the peace. The endgame was not just the defeat of the Axis powers, but also the creation of a stable global order, in which World War II would be the last world war.
Prosecutors indict a Chicago police officer for first-degree murder and release a “deeply disturbing” video of the shooting.
Updated at 1:25 a.m on November 25.
The city of Chicago released the dashcam footage of Laquan McDonald's final moments Tuesday evening, one day earlier than they had originally announced. City officials gave journalists a link to a third-party site where they would have a one-hour window to download the six-minute and fifty-three-second video clip. (City officials bizarrely cited “limited bandwidth” as the reason for for the time limit.) The website crashed almost immediately, but DNAinfo Chicago uploaded the entire video to YouTube.
The clip begins with a 45-second disclaimer then shows the police vehicle on which the dashboard camera was mounted travel to the scene. Five minutes and fifteen seconds pass before McDonald first appears, walking in the middle of a mostly empty city street near two other police vehicles. McDonald is walking at a brisk pace while carrying something in his left hand. (Police reports say it was a knife.)
The Speaker’s reformist ambitions fall victim to his need to manage the media cycle.
Before taking the speakership last month, Paul Ryan made a promise to fix a “broken” House of Representatives and return the chamber to “regular order.” Eschewing the centralized authority of his predecessor, John Boehner, Ryan promised to put legislative power back in the hands of rank-and-file members—something key House constituencies had been clamoring for.
Under regular order, House bills go through an often-lengthy process from subcommittee to the floor; they are vetted, debated, and amended before receiving a final up-or-down vote. A return to regular order is one of the few areas with serioussupport from both ultraconservative Freedom Caucus members and progressive reformers in the House. After all, legislators on both sides of the aisle want a chance to be heard, offer amendments, and share expertise. Ryan concurred: “The committees should retake the lead in drafting all major legislation. When we rush to pass bills, a lot of us do not understand, we are not doing our job.”
In the name of emotional well-being, college students are increasingly demanding protection from words and ideas they don’t like. Here’s why that’s disastrous for education—and mental health.
Something strange is happening at America’s colleges and universities. A movement is arising, undirected and driven largely by students, to scrub campuses clean of words, ideas, and subjects that might cause discomfort or give offense. Last December, Jeannie Suk wrote in an online article for The New Yorker about law students asking her fellow professors at Harvard not to teach rape law—or, in one case, even use the word violate (as in “that violates the law”) lest it cause students distress. In February, Laura Kipnis, a professor at Northwestern University, wrote an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education describing a new campus politics of sexual paranoia—and was then subjected to a long investigation after students who were offended by the article and by a tweet she’d sent filed Title IX complaints against her. In June, a professor protecting himself with a pseudonym wrote an essay for Vox describing how gingerly he now has to teach. “I’m a Liberal Professor, and My Liberal Students Terrify Me,” the headline said. A number of popular comedians, including Chris Rock, have stopped performing on college campuses (see Caitlin Flanagan’s article in this month’s issue). Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Maher have publicly condemned the oversensitivity of college students, saying too many of them can’t take a joke.
Tardigrades are sponges for foreign genes. Does that explain why they are famously indestructible?
The toughest animals in the world aren't bulky elephants, or cold-tolerant penguins, or even the famously durable cockroach. Instead, the champions of durability are endearing microscopic creatures called tardigrades, or water bears.
They live everywhere, from the tallest mountains to the deepest oceans, and from hot springs to Antarctic ice. They can even tolerate New York. They cope with these inhospitable environments by transforming into a nigh-indestructible state. Their adorable shuffling gaits cease. Their eight legs curl inwards. Their rotund bodies shrivel up, expelling almost all of their water and becoming a dried barrel called a “tun.” Their metabolism dwindles to near-nothingness—they are practically dead. And in skirting the edge of death, they become incredibly hard to kill.
Why trying to think like the Islamic State is so hard—and risky.
In killing 130 civilians in Paris—the worst such attack in France since World War II—ISIS has forced us to contend, once again, with the question of the “rationality” of self-professed ideologues. Since it wrested the world’s attention with its capture of Iraq’s second-largest city in June 2014, the extremist group has prioritized state-building over fighting far enemies abroad. This is what distinguished ISIS: It wasn’t just, or even primarily, a terrorist organization. It had an unusually pronounced interest in governance. As Yale University’s Andrew March and Mara Revkin lay out in considerable detail, the group focused its energy on developing fairly elaborate institutional structures in the territory it controlled within Iraq and Syria. ISIS wasn’t simply making things up as it went along. It may have been mad, but there was a method to the madness.