Expertise Theory Archives

Becoming Nobody

Online chess. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It is a stretch to say that I like losing but I consider myself game. Gamey? Gamer. Willing. Much more willing to lose than not to play. Grow or at least have the experience. That will pave the way one pebble at a time.

So often you will hear in a conversation or read in a blog or social media outlet that someone considers themselves a “lifelong learner.” I wonder what they are learning? In my informal survey of these statements, it is typically a statement about one’s willingness to improve or change their current skills. Is that not what everyone does or is expected to do? Formally, I would enjoy gaining more information about genuine levels of objective growth and change rather than anecdotes about life-changing events and decisions that “really moved (institution X) forward.

As one who enjoys martial arts, I look at all areas of my life to reveal my training partner. It changes by day and by context but the function is the same. By working together, each one has the goal of improving their skill and they cannot do it alone. Regardless of your training partner, you can only have one competitor. Self. Choose how much practice takes place, quality of food, level of hydration, and intensity of work. Make the decision to be present. Aware.

Before I step onto the mats I determine my attitude and I am sure that it influences who obliges when I offer to pair up for a session of training. So many would love to say that “any given Sunday” I may win a match or lose a match; have an up day or a down day. That is not the case. My training session begins the night before when I decide to get a decent night’s sleep and moves forward with decisions throughout the day. There are not many decisions to be made. There is one. Then another one.

Me and Relson — Mugging for the camera with Relson Gracie

Watching the documentary “Bobby Fischer Against the World,” I heard David Shenk saying that there were 40,000 moves on a chess board after the first move. If you know anything about chess, you know that this is inaccurate. From both a mathematical standpoint as we as a meaningful standpoint, it is inaccurate. The only one with thousands of moves before them in a chess match is a fool.

Every decision made through the day determines an analog success or failure on the mat that evening. However you may score it. We all score it somehow. That is how we measure growth. I will not pretend to be one of the “all for fun” types. I will not claim to be a technician or analyst of the game but I know this–there are necessary and sufficient conditions in order to achieve growth and most of them depend on me.

Become nobody. Be humble. Serve. Give. Leave your ego at the door. I will take it one step further…maybe several steps. Those decisions that you make all week determine the type of training partner you will be for someone and reciprocally, they will then be for you. Rather than simply preparing yourself to respond and react, prepare yourself to be your best for someone else.

The Myth of 10,000 Hours

What I want to say most to start this off is, “Who came up with ten thousand hours, anyway?!” except I know where it came from and to be honest I am sick of hearing about it.

Ten thousand hours has become common. Journalists have reduced it to nothing. They have beaten it to death. Even when it is not referencing Expertise, you will hear ten thousand hours being bandied about. It. Just. IS.

I hate to break it…no…I love to break it to you. Ten thousand hours means nothing.

The research that spawned this number was performed on 40 violinists and was seeking to find some common experiences and habits among some of the best of them. Those violinists who had achieved the highest levels of skill had accumulated about seven thousand hours of practice by age 18 and about ten thousand hours of practice by age 20.

These data were common among a very small group of musicians from among a small group of subjects. Data on practice time was self-reported. From this article, came our famous misinterpretation by Gladwell who took it upon himself to recognize “experts” in retrospect by attributing ten thousand hours of practice to individuals and groups.

Outliers. Silliness.

Expertise is superlative. It is rare. It is domain specific and its definitions and components do not transfer to other domains. That is to say that those things that contribute to Expertise in violin playing are not likely to contribute to Expertise in another content area.

While some may ask why it is important to make these distinctions I find it compelling. There are other conditions that are necessary for the achievement of Expertise. It is possible for anyone to become competent with enough practice, guidance, and some motivation. It is not possible to become and Expert on these things alone–even with ten thousand hours of deliberate practice.

Many will live out their existence as “experienced non-Experts,” or the more pedestrian “merely competent” despite significant dedication and many hours, weeks, and years of practice. So sorry.

Early Expertise: Gumming up the Works

As parents, teachers, and mentors we have a strong influence on children. In their pre-adolescent years, parents are the single most significant influence on the lives of their children. Beyond that, there are competing influences of teachers and friends. Once adolescence kicks in, we all lose out to peer influence. It is arguable about whether parents can retain or regain that ground but we know what we know based on research, experience, and fairly legitimate wisdom.

All that being said to set the stage for how we, as adults, can shipwreck the development of Expertise.

While the development of Expert level skills must begin at interest, the identification of that interest is a genuine challenge. I have used the example of my daughter and her knack for spotting airplanes. We were looking at pictures with her and one of those was an airplane. Very soon afterwards, we were driving south of the city and she saw an airplane departing from the airport. It was low enough to be seen out of the side windows of the car in the distance. She yelled, “Airplane! There’s an airplane!” and we were delighted that she made that connection from picture to real life and that she remember the name. All very commonplace in the life of a young child, right?

Let us take a simplistic approach to make a point. What if we thought that her recognition of that airplane was based on an inner love of airplanes? What if we then decided to take a turn off the highway and watch airplanes take-off and land for a few hours that day? What if we purchased toy airplanes, constructed paper airplanes, and rented movie after movie about airplanes?

The likely outcome: Our daughter would think that we had a deep love and value of airplanes. She would probably like airplanes because we like airplanes so much. We spent all that time together doing things and talking about airplanes. She might even start initiating activities that revolved around airplanes which would have an entirely new influence.

Let us be extreme.

Cut to 20 years later and she is piloting a jumbo jet across the wide Atlantic. She deplanes. She sits in Baile Átha Cliath airport eating her lunch and complaining that she does not really like flying but it is a job and pays well with decent benefits. She is, like many others, a competent pilot. Why not an Expert? She was never really interested.

So, what happened?

What of the Prodigy?

“Interested, valued, encouraged, supported, trained.” In the case of “prodigies,” this usually ends with “bored. quits.” Or leveled out–regressing to the mean. #Expertise

After a while, you realize the Prodigy isn't that good. — After a while, you realize that the Prodigy isn't that good.

It seems that when someone wants to argue Expertise, they bring the prodigy to the table. What of the prodigy? They argue. The Prodigy did not practice for all these hours. The Prodigy did not receive mentoring. The Prodigy did not…Let me stop you there.

Everyone remembers the prodigy–the wee man on his enormous piano bench. Johnny Carson offers to push the pedals while they “drive.” The audience laughs. “He is good,” we think to ourselves or say below a whisper to those also watching late at night with you. We gather our plates, head to the kitchen, and likely forget the name. That’s fine. It is unlikely that you will hear that name again anyway.

But, let me assure you that the prodigy receives everything they need at the time to excel.

Ted — Let us not pretend that prodigy should be revered

What is the appeal of the prodigy? Is it a sign? Some kind of mental release? Is it the permission that we need–telling us to stop trying so hard? Understand that there are elements in place that allow excellence early on and that those same elements, without the supporting components, are the ones that cause total, beautiful, destruction later in life. Enjoy the flash in the pan; the 15 minutes; the onlookers, hand-shakers, and picture-takers. They love you. For the rest of your life. Today.

The amount of commitment that is necessary to sustain and to back-build the missing foundation…I cannot begin to explain it…is a challenge to great for most and that is why you will rarely hear that name again.

Gumption. Drive.

Missing.

or, perhaps, once that level of fame was found it was enough

–or too much.

You see, working at your maximum potential–if you could–is necessary for the development of real Expertise but it is not sufficient. You will not know what if it was until you get there. It reminds me of a film from a number of years back, or maybe it was a television series. The lead actor was a spy who was recruited by a top-secret group whose Batcave-like lair was behind a wall at a dead-end street. In order to get past the wall, you had to drive directly into it moving at least 80 miles per hour. It was a matter of faith. Of belief. If I believe it, I might get it. If I doubt, I definitely will not.

Welcome to it. Say farewell to the Prodigious Son.