Deliberate Practice
Quotes from Ericsson’s book “Peak”
In his book, Epstein dramatized Thomas’s accomplishments by comparing him with Stefan Holm of Sweden, who had been training rigorously on the high jump ever since he was a kid and had logged more than twenty thousand hours of practice. Yet at the 2007 World Championships in Athletics he was beaten by Thomas, who, Epstein estimated, had only a few hundred hours of training.
There is clearly a fascination with this type of story, where someone seems to have come out of nowhere to excel as some sort of naturally gifted performer. And these days, because “the ten-thousand-hour rule” has become so well known, the stories are often written as “proof” that this rule is wrong. Donald Thomas or someone else shows us that it is indeed possible to become the best in the world without practicing that much, if only you are born with the right genes.
I get it. People want to believe that there is magic in life, that not everything has to abide by the staid, boring rules of the real world. And what could be more magical than being born with some incredible ability that doesn’t require hard work or discipline to develop? There is an entire comic-book industry built on that premise - that sometimes something magical happens, and you suddenly acquire incredible powers. Unbeknownst to you, you were actually born on the planet Krypton and you can fly. Or you were bitten by a radioactive spider and you can cling to walls. Or you were exposed to cosmic radiation and now you can become invisible.
Thoughts
Skill, aka the ability of pattern recognition and response (as opposed to deliberate reasoning), is completely mundane. Study better and you will get better results. There’s no magic to it.
This means there is something to Richard Hamming’s idea of compound returns for those who consistently study more over decades. Have faith.
Corollary: Anybody can reach high skill in a field if they do enough deliberate practice.
Mentors
I think you first try to become identical to your mentor, then branch out as you gain more experience, and finally discover your own “voice”.
This is why people familiar with the mentor often call the mentee as a “mini-version” of the person. For example, in Suits, people routinely tell Mike Ross that he sounds “just like Harvey [Specter]” or call him “baby Harvey”.
Instead of trying to analyze each feature of your mentor to decide whether to assimilate it, you just imitate all of them blindly. Later, when you’re able to get results as well as him, you start tweaking things to find what works better.
Whiplash - Observations
Note: This is a fictional movie, so everything below is fictional evidence. Be careful what you infer from it. I think it’s best used as a mnemonic for the empirically-tested principles of deliberate practice - evidence come to life.
The following are notes I made about the movie in chronological order. (This was my fourth or fifth time watching it.)
First Act
Right off, Andrew finds out how good he isn’t. Fletcher walks away in the middle of the impromptu audition. Andrew has to play a lot better to be considered a good player. [negatively reinforce working harder; punish being at the same level]
Also, he gets feedback right away - “Faster. Faster!”
He stared longingly at the girl at the popcorn counter. [longing for a girlfriend negatively reinforces trying to get a girlfriend; having romantic interactions is a reinforcer for him right now]
He was out watching a movie - happiness from other sources. He’s numbing the pain instead of using it as a spur to work harder. [movie-watching is a reinforcer; I suppose that wipes out the pain of not being good enough.]
At first, his eyes were on the lead drummer and his girlfriend. So, he was distracted. [not having a girlfriend is painful to him right now; it’s become a secondary punisher]
Later, his eyes saw the advanced group. Ignition! That’s when he really began to focus. [great music-playing is becoming more of a secondary reinforcer as he is paying more attention to it]
Fletcher listens outside the door, but walks away. [current level -> no pleasure; current level -> low-value]
Learn to feel it: Andrew listened to Buddy Rich’s Birdland after his practice so that he can compare himself to a master. This is how you get feedback about your practice. [Birdland -> pleasure; that level -> high-value]
Hypothesis: Birdland -> pleasure; after listening to that, your level -> less pleasure, maybe even pain. So, observe expert level vs your level -> high-value vs low-value.
Corollary: Observe the greats -> high standards -> (your level -> no pleasure) -> [your level -> low-value]
The test: I think Andrew wasn’t completely superior to the other drummer. He had just practiced the double-time swing a lot. Why did Fletcher select him, then? I think he saw Andrew’s hunger, his drive to become better. Given that the other drummer had other aims in life (as evidenced by the sunglasses hanging from his t-shirt), a single-minded guy like Andrew would eventually overtake him.
In effect, he was thrust into a situation above his skill level. Which means he’ll get tons of humiliation and thus, if he uses that right, a lot of growth. Suggests that you should attack before you’re ready. Either way, if you’re not killed, you will become stronger.
Still has distractions: he asked that girl out even though he needed to focus fully on doing well in the advanced group. He’s getting happiness from other sources.
Look how scared he was that he would be late for his session. He is scared of Fletcher. And that makes him worry about, and thus negatively reinforce, doing everything right. (Maybe this is why Daniel Coyle said that master coaches are somewhat scary.)
He feels like an insect on the floor compared to these advanced guys.
They’re all scared of Fletcher.
Those guys have scrawled notes like “LIL LOUDER” and “SOFTER” on their music sheets. Shows they’ve thought about each part and got feedback about their current skills. (The notes represent the diff from their current performance and their desired performance.)
Talk about a meritocracy! Those guys respect only competence. Nothing else matters. I’m glad that such places exist. (I suspect that happens in any advanced group.)
Fletcher is rude to everybody.
Immediate feedback: “Don’t [play it] too early.”
Negative reinforcement: The humiliation will stop only when you know you’re out of tune.
The only thing that gets any consideration is musical skill. “My mother left when I was a baby.” “So no musicians in the family then?”
Fine distinctions: Fletcher can tell when you’re “dragging” or “rushing” even a little bit. Andrew can’t yet.
Observation: Fletcher humiliated Andrew for not being able to tell whether he was rushing or dragging. He also attacked all of Andrew’s weak points (like not having a mother, etc.).
Hypothesis: Fletcher was trying to induce the following rule in Andrew’s mind: if you can’t play music well, you’re a loser.
How? By removing any shred of self-respect Andrew may have had, and then letting him feel good only when he played well. Thus, if Andrew wanted to feel good about himself (and I think we all do), his only option would be to become a great music player. Win-win. Kinda.
In short, anytime Andrew did anything other than “play music well”, Fletcher would berate and humiliate him. If Andrew played well, Fletcher would spare him. So, Andrew’s only choice was to learn to play well.
Moral of the story:
Start practicing harder, Niemann.
– Fletcher, Whiplash.
Corollary: If this is the way you want to become skilled, you can’t have any other source of self-respect.
That would defeat the above strategy by giving Andrew an out. So, he can’t have a girlfriend (according to the philosophy of the film).
Corollary: If you accept the above philosophy, the way to become great is to make your work your only source of self-respect and deny yourself any other kind.
Test: If you don’t have a single source of self-respect, if you can tolerate sucking at your chosen field, then you aren’t on the track to greatness. Either your skill has grown in the last week or you feel miserable.
Dr. Eric Foreman: Why are you doing this to me? I was happy.
Dr. Gregory House: You were aspiring to be content.
Dr. Eric Foreman: Don’t give me a semantic argument. I was content with the way things were. That’s what happiness means.
Dr. Gregory House: Right. If we were all satisfied with what we had, what a beautiful world it would be. We’d all slowly starve to death in our own filth but at least we’d be happy. Listen, I need your self worth to hang on this job, kicking ass here to be all that lets you rise above miserable. If waking up in the morning is enough, I don’t need you.
– House MD, Forever (slightly edited; emphasis mine)
Going to (or back to) school is a huge predictor of death because in addition to the distraction it gives you something to say you’re doing. If you’re only doing a startup, then if the startup fails, you fail. If you’re in grad school and your startup fails, you can say later “Oh yeah, we had this startup on the side when I was in grad school, but it didn’t go anywhere.”
You can’t use euphemisms like “didn’t go anywhere” for something that’s your only occupation. People won’t let you.
– Paul Graham, How Not to Die
Corollary: You should feel humiliated if you don’t know some concept. It will drive you to master concepts better.
There’s nothing wrong with others for making fun of you for it or with you for feeling bad about it. If you suck at your chosen field, that is cause for concern. For example, if you don’t know how to identify the “first act” of a story, and you consider yourself well-read, you suck.
Second Act
People around the conservatory are always talking about music or lugging around their huge instruments (giggity).
He keeps staring at posters of his role model Buddy Rich and also listening to his albums over and over.
He could drain away his pain by accepting his father’s sympathy. Or… he could practice as if he was possessed. He chose the latter.
Corollary: Don’t accept sympathy for your failures. That shoots a hole in the above strategy just like another source of happiness.
His girlfriend is the poster-child for people getting happiness for free! The complete antithesis of everything Fletcher and Andrew stand for. She refuses to feel bad about herself because she doesn’t have a clear career goal or anything at all. Andrew can’t do that. He couldn’t do that even before meeting Fletcher.
Andrew: What do you do?
Nicole: I go to Fordham.
Andrew: What do you study?
Nicole: I don’t have a major yet.
Andrew: But, like, what do you want to study?
Nicole: I don’t really know. I don’t know yet.
Andrew: So Fordham was just like a random school?
Nicole: No, I applied to a bunch of schools, Fordham let me in. Why’d you pick Shaffer?
Andrew: It’s the best music school in the country.
Nicole: Well, Fordham was Fordham.
– Whiplash
Note that Andrew knows exactly what and where he wants to study.
Feedback: Fletcher didn’t bite his head off. So his drumming was acceptable.
Andrew smiled when he played well (and got promoted to core drummer). He also smiled when he was watching a video of an expert drummer. So, he’s now getting his happiness only from drumming. Not so much from his girlfriend.
Andrew’s dad: And his opinion means a lot to you, does it?
“Isn’t it subjective?” “No.”
Uncle Frank: You got any friends, Andy?
Andrew: No.
Uncle Frank: Oh, why’s that?
Andrew: I don’t know, I just never really saw the use.
Uncle Frank: Well, who are you going to play with otherwise? Lennon and McCartney, they were school buddies, am I right?
Andrew: Charlie Parker didn’t know anybody ’til Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
Uncle Frank: So that’s your idea of success, huh?
Andrew: I think being the greatest musician of the 20th century is anybody’s idea of success.
Jim: Dying broke and drunk and full of heroin at the age of 34 is not exactly my idea of success.
Andrew: I’d rather die drunk, broke at 34 and have people at a dinner table talk about me than live to be rich and sober at 90 and nobody remembered who I was.
Uncle Frank: Ah, but your friends will remember you, that’s the point.
Andrew: None of us were friends with Charlie Parker. That’s the point.
Uncle Frank: Travis and Dustin? They have plenty of friends and plenty of purpose.
Andrew: I’m sure they’ll make great school board presidents someday.
Dustin: Oh, that’s what this is all about? You think you’re better than us?
Andrew: You catch on quick. Are you in Model UN?
Travis: I got a reply for you, Andrew. You think Carleton football’s a joke? Come play with us.
Andrew: Four words you will never hear from the NFL.
Aunt Emma: Who wants dessert?
Breaking up with his girlfriend: He can’t pay attention to anything else but drumming. The happiness she gives him is not worth the drumming practice he would miss out on.
Commitment: The band members stick around even till 2am to complete their practice session. There’s nothing more important in their life than their music practice.
He sleeps next to his drum kit. Talk about the top idea in your mind!
Third Act
He now gets a bit of happiness from his father. Wow. I think the previous time they showed him watching a movie with his father, it was before he became truly serious about drumming. And they’re showing that again.
Fletcher says he was there “to push people beyond what was expected of them”. So, “what was expected” was the bar you needed to clear to feel good. He raised the bar and made people feel miserable unless they cleared it. That is what it means to push people - consider any lesser attempt to be a failure.
Terence Fletcher: I don’t think people understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn’t there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what’s expected of them. I believe that is… an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we’re depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I told you that story about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?
Andrew: Jo Jones threw a cymbal at his head.
Terence Fletcher: Exactly. Parker’s a young kid, pretty good on the sax. Gets up to play at a cutting session, and he fucks it up. And Jones nearly decapitates him for it. And he’s laughed off-stage. Cries himself to sleep that night, but the next morning, what does he do? He practices. And he practices and he practices with one goal in mind, never to be laughed at again. And a year later, he goes back to the Reno and he steps up on that stage, and plays the best motherfucking solo the world has ever heard. So imagine if Jones had just said, “Well, that’s okay, Charlie. That was all right. Good job.” And then Charlie thinks to himself, “Well, shit, I did do a pretty good job.” End of story. No Bird. That, to me, is an absolute tragedy. But that’s just what the world wants now. People wonder why jazz is dying.
– Whiplash (emphasis mine)
Fletcher doesn’t believe it’s dishonourable to practice because you never want to be laughed at again. He seems to believe it’s useful motivation. It works, after all, if the film is right.
I was stuck thinking that only pure motivations are worthy of having - like practicing to become a better player, regardless of whether others appreciate you. Maybe it’s ok to have impure motivations. Maybe wanting to beat others is fine, as long as you meet your goals. Whatever makes you practice is fine.
[T]here are no two words in the English language more harmful than “good job”.
– Fletcher, Whiplash
Note that Andrew gets a master coach in the form of Fletcher and a role model in the form of Buddy Rich.
Also note that Andrew got continuous feedback on each aspect of his drumming. He found out if he was rushing or dragging, or whether his double-time swing was fast enough.
He also tries to get happiness from Nicole. But she’s moved on.
In the climax, his father gives him sympathy, but he refuses to settle for it. The only way he can feel good is by proving himself as a drummer.
A smile that lasts half a second - that’s Andrew’s reward for playing the solo of his life. And for him, it was worth it.
Practice and Respect
Hypothesis: Why practicing might seem lowly: it says that you’re not good enough right now.
For example, I feel weird rehearsing some “pitch” for some networking event. If someone saw me, I bet they’d think I was a bit silly. Why? Because I’m admitting that I can’t wing it. Others can apparently go in and come up with a good speech on the spot. Only n00bs have to rehearse (is my implicit belief).
We laugh when we see Saul Goodman practicing his court dialogues in the men’s toilet because we realize this is how he became the criminal lawyer with the silver tongue. But imagine how self-conscious you would feel if were doing that.
Hypothesis: Every moment you practice something new (that others can apparently do with ease), you feel lowly because you’re constantly reminded of how much you suck.
Skill: Cause and Effect
What is “skill”? Figure out the category.
What causes skill?
What is deliberate practice? How does it cause skill?
What is valuable skill? Where are you failing now? (Unsolved problem set.)
Question: What should you do during “deliberate practice”?
Hypothesis: There’s a bunch of cues where you need to use a technique. So, make flashcards for all those cues.
For example, as part of your identity, when you exercise, you must reward yourself instead of feeling bad about having spent an hour in the gym when you could have been surfing the web.
Hypothesis: Deliberate practice = remembering the technique for a particular cue, and then executing that technique.
Corollary: Spend at least as much time practicing your existing techniques on problematic cues as you do on learning new techniques.
Speed without Changing Procedure?
Question: Can you increase skill without changing the procedure?
For example, can mere repetition improve your response for a particular situation?
Hypothesis: Maybe you improve your procedure for your underlying skills.
For example, you could identify individual words faster by using distinguishing cues and thus read a sentence faster.
How to Deliberate Practice
Hypothesis: Notice concrete scenario where you fail, create a flashcard to test the correct response for that scenario, review till you’re fluent -> learn to produce that response for that scenario.
Corollary: It all hinges on noticing failure.
Hypothesis: Concrete scenario, think of a similar scenario in some integration test and do what they did -> learn what to do in that scenario.
Corollary: Want to learn what to do in a lot of scenarios - get integration tests with similar scenarios.
Corollary: The way ahead really is “What would X do?”.
Test: I want to say “dull” to stupid worries about stupid things (like whether my calendar items are well-organized or whether all my essays everywhere have been perfectly refactored). But I currently don’t. And I can see that. So, let me create flashcards for them. We’ll see how it goes.
Test: I want to write a concrete test before I design a hypothesis. Had a flashcard for it. Reviewed it tonight. – Now, I’m reminding myself to write a test before I finish writing the hypothesis. Seems to be working.
Test: Somebody is talking about cricket matches - Sherlock would say “dull”. So would House. – Do the same.
Test: Want to learn what to do to avoid procrastination – get integration tests of similar scenarios where people managed to get a lot of motivation. For example, I didn’t procrastinate much during the semester. I had a tight deadline and the threat of getting poor grades.
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