Those are the very first words from Chapter 1 on “Talk 101.”
It’s funny how we could spend our entire time together unpacking JUST those 169 words. Seriously. There’s so much goodness to mine in there.
Let’s start with this line: “even those who have a natural ability for something have to work to develop it. That’s what turns a talent into a skill.”
That’s almost EXACTLY what one of James Pawelski’s colleagues at the University of Pennsylvania said about the relationship between talent and skill a decade or two after Larry wrote those words.
In her classic book on Grit, Angela Duckworth gives us an equation to account for the fact that, yes, natural “talent” does, in fact, influence how much we can achieve in life but, she says, “effort counts twice.”
She tells us: “I have been working on a theory of the psychology of achievement since Marty [Seligman] scolded me for not having one. I have pages and pages of diagrams, filling more than a dozen lab notebooks. After more than a decade of thinking about it, sometimes alone, and sometimes in partnership with close colleagues, I finally published an article in which I lay down two simple equations that explain how you get from talent to achievement.
Here they are:
talent x effort = skill
——————→ skill x effort = achievement
Talent is how quickly your skills improve when you invest effort. Achievement is what happens when you take your acquired skills and use them. Of course, your opportunities—for example, having a great teacher—matter tremendously, too, and maybe more than anything about the individual. My theory doesn’t address these outside forces, nor does it include luck. It’s about the psychology of achievement, but because psychology isn’t all that maters, it’s incomplete.
Still, I think it’s useful. What this theory says is that when you consider individuals in identical circumstances, what each achieves depends on just two things, talent and effort. Talent—how fast we can improve a skill—absolutely matters. But effort factors into the calculations twice, not once. Effort builds skill. At the very same time, effort makes skill productive.”
That, interestingly, brings us back to Ted Williams. He may very well have had the most “natural talent” of any baseball hitter in our lifetimes. But…
Technically, he DIDN’T take “batting practice like everyone else.” In fact, biographers say, he was a BEAST in batting practice (regularly making his hands bleed!) and made other baseball players look lazy in comparison.
All of which makes me think of Alan Stein and Eric Butterworth.
In his great book Raise Your Game, Allen tells us about the Kobe Bryant practice he watched back in the day. At 4:00 AM.
Here’s how he puts it: “For forty-five minutes I was shocked. For forty-five minutes I watched the best player in the world do the most basic drills. I watched the best player on the planet do basic ball-handling drills. I watched the best player on the planet do basic footwork. I watched the best player on the planet do basic offensive moves.
Granted, he did everything with surgical precision and super-hero intensity, but the stuff he was doing was so simple. I couldn’t believe it.
Later that day I went over to him. ‘Thanks again,’ I said, ‘I really enjoyed watching your workout this morning.’ ‘No problem,’ Kobe replied.
Then I hesitated, not wanting to sound rude—or worse—condescending. ‘You’re the best player in the world. Why do such basic stuff?’ He flashed that gleaming smile of his. ‘Why do you think I’m the best player in the game?’ he asked. ‘Because I never get bored with the basics.’
He knew that if his footwork was not razor sharp, then the rest of the move would never be as good as it could be. And he knew that the only way to do that was through sheer repetition. Kobe had such an understanding of building things step by step, brick by brick; he worshipped on the altar of basics. If someone at Kobe’s level needs to commit hours to practicing the fundamentals, then so do all of us. Kobe taught me a pivotal lesson that morning. The basics are simple, but not easy. If they were easy, everyone would do them.”
Eric Butterworth echoes this wisdom in Spiritual Economics where he reminds us: “Ask the great athlete or the concert pianist or the successful actor if they arrived at the place where they need no further practice. They will tell you that the higher you climb in proficiency and public acceptance, the greater the need for practice.”
All of THAT brings us back to the King. That man has HUSTLED his entire life. And THAT my friends is why he is who he is. All of which begs the question: How’s YOUR effort?