We’ve written before on what is generally called “talent,” which most people seem to define as some sort of innate skill that, if properly trained, can result in excellence. But in our article, which relied heavily on the research of Anders Ericsson, we presented a slightly different definition of talent. Here’s one key paragraph:
“I think the most general claim here,” Ericsson says of his work, “is that a lot of people believe there are some inherent limits they were born with. But there is surprisingly little hard evidence that anyone could attain any kind of exceptional performance without spending a lot of time perfecting it.” This is not to say that all people have equal potential. Michael Jordan, even if he hadn’t spent countless hours in the gym, would still have been a better basketball player than most of us. But without those hours in the gym, he would never have become the player he was.
The main idea of our column is that “talent” is overrated; that practice really does make perfect; and that it’s a good idea to do what you truly love in life, because if you don’t, you probably won’t work hard enough at it to get really good.
I was reminded of all this recently while looking through the Summer 2006 issue of Daedalus. As with every issue, this one had a theme, which was “On Body in Mind.” It included a wonderful essay by Jacques d’Amboise (born Joseph Ahearn, btw), best known in his youth as a star dancer in George Balanchine’s New York City Ballet and later known as a choreographer and founder of the National Dance Institute. Here is how d’Amboise, now 72 years old, recalled getting his body and mind working together:
Early in the morning or on my days off, I sit in the empty auditorium, gazing at the stage. I am envisioning a variation from my repertoire, imagining, in detail, first how I will look in costume, then how I will enter the stage and from which wing. As if watching a movie, I then dance the variation in my mind the very best that I can, or even better — the leaps a foot higher, the space covered double what I have done in the past. I picture the expression on my face, the use of my arms and hands, and the speed at which I move. …
At first, I run this imaginary film to rhythmic counting alone (without music, melody, theme, harmony, etc.) — creating a blueprint of mathematical time. For example, I launch into a leap on the first count (or beat), float through the second and third counts, and land noiselessly on the fourth. Next, I rerun these movements, adding, in my head, the melody of the music in place of the counts. Each of these processes I repeat multiple times.
Now I am ready to make the imagined concrete. Up on the stage, I rehearse what I have envisioned — step by step, count by count, without music, over and over again. Sometimes I spend as much as two hours on a dance sequence that is perhaps one-and-a-half minutes long. During these repetitions, I count the beats out loud as I dance, even rehearsing how I will breathe. I also practice the dance movements in three different tempos: slow motion, ideal, and accelerated (in case the orchestra conductor has an adrenaline rush during the performance). I am now prepared to handle any tempo that may emanate from the orchestra pit.
Now keep in mind that this is how d’Amboise prepared when he was already a huge star. Practice makes perfect indeed.
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Keegan raises a good point. You need to look at talent, *physiology*, and diligence. Many people do not have the body type/shape regardless of talent (or lack). No amount of practice will make someone with the wrong shape perform at high enough levels for many sports. Dance is an obvious example – you are either shaped correctly or not. Basketball may allow for very talented shorter people, but that only goes so far. If you are not at least a certain height, you will never be able to play at the NBA level.
Keegan raises a good point. You need to look at talent, *physiology*, and diligence. Many people do not have the body type/shape regardless of talent (or lack). No amount of practice will make someone with the wrong shape perform at high enough levels for many sports. Dance is an obvious example – you are either shaped correctly or not. Basketball may allow for very talented shorter people, but that only goes so far. If you are not at least a certain height, you will never be able to play at the NBA level.
On the other hand of the talent debate, you could say that it means quite a bit. There must be thousands of high school basketball players who practice just as hard as Michael Jordan did at their age. The same is probably true of college students. And only a few of those make it to the NBA, and those who do probably practice a similar amount even there and still come nowhere close to attaining his status.
When any endeavor is as wildly popular as basketball there are a virtually endless supply of people with strong work ethics. Talent is what makes the best of them the best.
On the other hand of the talent debate, you could say that it means quite a bit. There must be thousands of high school basketball players who practice just as hard as Michael Jordan did at their age. The same is probably true of college students. And only a few of those make it to the NBA, and those who do probably practice a similar amount even there and still come nowhere close to attaining his status.
When any endeavor is as wildly popular as basketball there are a virtually endless supply of people with strong work ethics. Talent is what makes the best of them the best.
Certainly talent plays a role; however, once someone possesses a baseline talent level, hard work makes all the difference. Several comments reference height as an example of a limitation hard work cannot overcome. I suggest looking at the careers of Spudd Webb (5’7″, won the 1986 Slam Dunk competition) and Muggsy Bogues (5’3″, shortest player in NBA history, 14-year career). While each man had talent, their hard work set them apart from those “too short” to play professional basketball. By contrast, the only issue I have with the initial post is a sticking point I learned in music school. Practice does not make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. If you want to do it better than anyone else, focus on how to do it better every single time.
Certainly talent plays a role; however, once someone possesses a baseline talent level, hard work makes all the difference. Several comments reference height as an example of a limitation hard work cannot overcome. I suggest looking at the careers of Spudd Webb (5’7″, won the 1986 Slam Dunk competition) and Muggsy Bogues (5’3″, shortest player in NBA history, 14-year career). While each man had talent, their hard work set them apart from those “too short” to play professional basketball. By contrast, the only issue I have with the initial post is a sticking point I learned in music school. Practice does not make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. If you want to do it better than anyone else, focus on how to do it better every single time.
Tim, the exceptions prove the rule. There are very very few short players in the history of the NBA. Those few people had talent that overcame their height liability. If every player has put in the same level of hard work, then the height liability would work against those players (everything else being equal, you have to look at other differences to find the ones that rise above and the ones that fall below). So, either (extra) talent makes up for the difference, or some other characteristics come into play. The sports metaphor of “heart” relates to attitude and drive (but looking at the superstars in NBA, drive is more important than attitude
. The right kind of practice is critical, but basketball is a sport where the feedback on the quality of one’s practice is quite clear (unlike music or other arts, where interpretation comes into play). Neither can be enough given the size of the pool of people feeding into the system. So, some other factor must be allowing some to overcome what would otherwise be liabilities. But, for the main body of players in most sports, the right physiology is a necessary prerequisite.
Tim, the exceptions prove the rule. There are very very few short players in the history of the NBA. Those few people had talent that overcame their height liability. If every player has put in the same level of hard work, then the height liability would work against those players (everything else being equal, you have to look at other differences to find the ones that rise above and the ones that fall below). So, either (extra) talent makes up for the difference, or some other characteristics come into play. The sports metaphor of “heart” relates to attitude and drive (but looking at the superstars in NBA, drive is more important than attitude
. The right kind of practice is critical, but basketball is a sport where the feedback on the quality of one’s practice is quite clear (unlike music or other arts, where interpretation comes into play). Neither can be enough given the size of the pool of people feeding into the system. So, some other factor must be allowing some to overcome what would otherwise be liabilities. But, for the main body of players in most sports, the right physiology is a necessary prerequisite.