Outliers, Malcom Gladwell
Outliers, Malcom Gladwell
When Jeb Bush ran for the governorship of Florida, he called himself a “self-made
man” as part of his campaign strategy. This is, frankly, ridiculous; he had two
American Presidents, a wealthy Wall Street banker, and a United States senator in
his immediate family. Nevertheless, as individualism is so important in our culture, he
tried this angle anyway.
Jeb Bush’s achievements make him an outlier – a person who has achieved
something statistically extraordinary. But just as Bush’s advantageous background
helped him achieve success, so too do less external factors help other outliers rise
above the average.
We place such a high value on individuals and their “self-made” achievements that
we often willfully ignore other factors.
Qualities that foster success – like height in basketball players or quantitative intelligence in
mathematicians – have a “threshold.” For example, after reaching a certain height, an extra
couple of inches don’t make that much difference for a basketball player.
The same is true in education as well: some law schools lower their entry requirements for
racial minorities under a policy of affirmative action. These students tend to perform slightly
worse in law school overall than the white students, but when postgraduate success is
examined, there is no difference between the minority and non minority students anymore.
Despite their poorer performance both before and during law school, the minority students
enjoy similar salaries, earn as many honors, and make as many contributions to the legal
world as their white classmates.
Just as height in basketball players only matters to a point, after you have a sufficient
amount of legal expertise, other factors start to play a bigger role. Related skills and traits
are necessary foundations for achievement in a field – you can’t become a leading legal
expert if you have zero logical reasoning skills – however, once you’ve reached the skills
threshold, marginal increases in innate reasoning abilities won’t advance you. Other things –
social skills, connections, or even a lucky break – will.
To achieve world-class mastery at anything, studies show you need to spend a “critical
minimum” amount of time – around 10,000 hours – practicing. Of course, not everyone has
the opportunity to spend this much time practicing something.
First of all, you need the opportunity to start early so you can get in as much practice as
possible and secure a head start on the competition. Also, you or your family has to have the
resources to support you; it’s hard to find time for work or chores when you’re spending 40
hours a week trying to become a world-famous violinist.
Depending on what you want to do, you might also need access to expensive state-of-the-art
equipment. Encouragement from family, friends, coaches, teachers and kind strangers you
meet on the street helps too.
If you’re lucky, like Bill Gates or the Beatles, you’ll have all these things. However, many
people don’t, so they effectively lack the opportunity to achieve world-class mastery in their
chosen fields.
Here’s an example: in Canadian youth-hockey leagues, the eligibility cutoff date for
age groups is January 1. All the kids born in the same calendar year compete
against each other. Seems fair, right?
Well, it isn’t. Annual cutoff dates pit kids born in January against those born at the
end of December. In other words, December babies compete with kids who are
basically a year older than they are.
Not only is the system unequal off the bat, it also creates a self-fulfilling prophecy:
coaches praise the best nine-year-olds because they’re stronger, better players,
when in fact they’re neither; they’re just older – a year makes a big difference when it
constitutes one eighth of your life.
The kids with this unfair age advantage get more encouragement and opportunities
to improve at an impressionable stage of their development. This is called a
cumulative advantage, and it’s the reason professional Canadian hockey players
have birthdays in the first half of the year more often than in the second.
You might be thinking, “Hey, no big deal – I’m not a hockey player. I’m not even
Canadian!”
But relative age can create unequal opportunities in any area that uses annual cutoff
dates to divide people into age-based groups. Most sports leagues have them.
Another place that has them? Schools.
Thus, the five-year-old whose short attention span inspires her to take a crayon to
her spelling homework can grow up thinking she’s a “problem child.” At the same
time, the calm almost-six-year-old she sat next to grows up to go to Harvard.
This knowledge is not innate. Sociologist Annette Lareau found that wealthier
parents instill in their children a feeling of “entitlement” more often than lower-class
parents do. In general, they do this by paying more attention to their children, or by
at least providing their children with enriching activities that promote intellectual
growth.
They teach their children to demand respect and to “customize” a situation to suit to
their needs. In other words, they teach their kids practical intelligence.
By contrast, poorer parents are often intimidated by authority and let their children
follow a pattern of “natural growth” – there’s less pushing, prodding and encouraging
than in wealthier families. This means children from poorer households are less likely
to be taught practical intelligence, which radically decreases their chances for
success.
Consider several big-name software billionaires: Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and co-
founder of Sun-Microsystems, Bill Joy. All of them were born with an extraordinary
gift for logical reasoning as well as ambition, practical intelligence and opportunities
to practice their skills. Mystery of the wildly successful solved?
Not so fast. It’s not just that they had opportunities; it’s that they had a precise series
of opportunities that let them get their 10,000 hours of computer programming
practice in at exactly the right time in history.
In order to capitalize on the rapidly changing software industry, they had to be born
at just the right time: late enough to have access to a new computer model that
made it easier to work out programming bugs, but not so late that others could get to
their ideas first. They also had to be just the right age when starting their companies;
if they had been much older, they might have been more interested in “settling down”
rather than in taking the huge risks that allowed them to succeed.
Not every successful software tycoon was born in the years between 1954 and 1956,
but the fact that many were suggests that being in the right place at the right time
matters.
In addition to language, rice – the staple of the Asian diet – also helps students learn
math because rice farming fosters an intense work ethic. Farming rice is much
harder than farming Western crops. A robust, profitable rice harvest demands
precision, coordination and patience.
Feudal systems in Europe left farmers little to show from their work; they had to turn
over most of their crops to ruthless landlords, but such systems were not prevalent in
Asia, so rice farming offered a clear relationship between effort and reward. As a
result, a culture of hard work developed; one particularly illuminating age-old saying
was, “No one who can rise before dawn three hundred sixty days a year fails to
make his family rich.”
What does this have to do with math? Well, like rice farming, math is hard; you might
spend an hour trying to figure out why you keep getting -17 when the answer is
supposed to be 19,473.6. Research has shown that students in Western countries
give up on math problems far sooner than students in Eastern countries do.
So, yes, Asians are generally good at math; it’s part of their cultural legacy. People
with ancestors who worked in rice paddies tend to inherit an attitude towards work
that is particularly helpful when learning math. This tendency persists, even
generations after families have left rice paddies behind.
An example is Korean Air, an airline that, before the year 2000, had a terrible safety
record. Their crash-rate was more than seventeen times higher than the industry
average. This poor track record could also be explained by cultural legacy, as with
the Asian predisposition for math.
Korean culture values authority figures and dictates that one should always defer to
an individual with a higher rank. Thus if the captain of a plane makes a mistake,
lower-ranking crewmembers might not be comfortable correcting the captain
because their cultural legacy says they shouldn’t.
One of Korean Air’s crashes in Guam can be traced back to such communication
failures. The flight’s first officer tried to tell the exhausted captain that visibility was
too poor to attempt a visual approach to the runway, but, to avoid offending the
captain with an explicit command, he merely said,
The captain ignored the first officer’s timid comment about the weather – and their
plane crashed into a hill.
After a reform that acknowledged the problems the Korean cultural legacy of
hierarchy could pose for flying a plane, Korean Air hired an American firm to improve
its flight crews’ communication skills. Now its safety record matches those of its
competitors.
In hockey, annual cutoff dates mean juniors born late in the year must play against
kids almost a year older than they are. But a Canadian hockey player born on
December 27 can’t ask his mom to travel back in time and not go into labor until
January 1, and he shouldn’t have to wish he could.
Many hockey players who might have harnessed great work ethics or learned to
handle the puck better than anyone else in the league are lost because resources go
to those who have an unfair advantage by having been born in the right part of the
year. Cumulative advantage for some means cumulative disadvantage for others.
Once this flaw in the system is recognized, however, it can be fixed. Instead of using
annual cutoff dates, we could divide young hockey players into four times as many
groups until the advantage of relative age subsides. January-March babies play in
one group, April-June in another, and so on.
The same goes for schools. Instead of sitting back and allowing the children of
wealthier parents have access to more opportunities, we can create programs like
the South Bronx’s KIPP – Knowledge is Power Program – Academy, a rigorous
middle school open to students from this extremely low-income area. Although there
are no exams or admission requirements, and although most students come from
disadvantaged backgrounds, KIPP manages to get 84 percent of its pupils to
perform at or above their grade level in math by the time they finish eighth grade.
Final Summary
The key message in this book:
No man, woman or Canadian hockey player is an island. Extraordinary
success is the result of an often-unlikely series of opportunities, lucky breaks
and occurrences that combine to create the precise conditions that allow such
achievement.