My thinking on the subject of top performance has been profoundly shaped by two books: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell and Talent is Overrated by Geoffrey Colvin. They have convinced me that innate “talent” isn’t what is responsible for great achievement; it is hard work. Both cite the magic number of 10,000 hours: to be truly great at something, you need to put in at least 10,000 hours of hard work at it. This is obviously an over-simplification, but the takeaway is the right one—it takes a lot of hard work to get good at something.
There’s a study I love that is cited in both books. Researchers looked at violinists in a premier music conservatory. They had their teachers break them into three groups: a) future soloists—the best of the best; b) future professional orchestra members; and c) future teachers. They looked at every factor they could think of, and in the end there was only one trait that correlated with success: the number of hours of practice. By the time they reached the age of 18, the top violinists had put in 7,410 hours of practice, compared to 4,301 and 3,420 for the other two groups. The time of day they practiced also mattered—the top groups practiced in two dedicated sessions during the morning and afternoon; the lowest-achieving group practiced the same number of hours each day (at this point, in their conservatory training), but it was spread haphazardly through the day.
But all practice is not created equal. You can play bridge—or golf or tennis or anything—for years and not get much better.
Most people practice for fun. Which is fine. But that sort of practice maintains current skills rather than building new ones. I am very guilty of this at the piano. It’s much more fun to play a song I already know than to learn a new one. I maintain my proficiency at that song—and at the piano in general—but I don’t improve. Same with playing a round or two of golf a week. It’s fun, you’re maintaining your level, but you’re not improving much.
The best golfers don’t spend much time on the golf course—they spend their time on the driving range and the putting green. Their practice is focused and designed.
The term for this type of practice is Deliberate Practice.
In Talent is Overrated, Geoffrey Colvin spells out several elements that define Deliberate Practice:
It’s designed. You focus on a specific skill and design a regimen to improve that skill. It needs to be something just at the edge of your ability—too easy and the practice doesn’t do you any good; too hard and you can’t do it and you get frustrated. Just saying “I want to get better at bridge” isn’t specific enough. It has to be more like, “I’m going to work on counting out the distribution.” And then working diligently on that one skill. Over and over.
It gives you immediate feedback. You have to be able to effectively learn from both your mistakes and your successes. Having a coach or teacher who can spot mistakes and point them out is ideal; without that, you need to find tools that allow you to know immediately if you have succeeded or failed.
It can be repeated. A lot. You don’t get better practicing something a couple of times; it takes repetition. An afternoon of practicing your serve isn’t going to win you Wimbledon; you’re going to need tens of thousands of repetitions.
It’s hard. If your practice is fun, it’s probably not helping you improve. Did Michael Jordan enjoy shooting shot after shot after shot by himself in the gym? I’m sure it would have been more fun to play a pick-up game with buddies. And I’m sure he did that, too. But what made him great was the hard, no-fun work he put in by himself. Deliberate Practice is mentally demanding.
Think about what you do to improve your bridge game. Does it qualify as Deliberate Practice? Mine usually doesn’t. I have too much fun! Now, bridge is a game, it’s meant to be fun. But a good golfer puts in time on the range and the putting green. What is the bridge equivalent? How can we best make use of our practice time?
I’m going to think about that and share my ideas in the next post. I’m eager to hear yours.
I need to slow down. I can count winners and losers, I can see some plays that will earn extra tricks. But I don't slow down enough to put it all together. I see it and go. I don't stop to see that is this doesn't work, I will go down - or that they should be done in this order to offer both opportunities. I need a stop watch to make me think for 1 minute before playing a card.
As a retired golf professional (40 years at a private country club) I find it hard to a compare motor skill sport vs something like the mental skill that bridge requires. Need to ponder this some more......will chime in on occasion. And I have read "Talent is Overrated".