I think Adams makes a couple of mistakes in his post.
1) He implies that practice is something to be less proud of than inherent ability to play pool. Life is all about making decisions to practice/pursue/play certain things over another.
The other thing is that few people have the willpower/dediction/stamina to devote time to activities that truly challenge them. Sure, I can play chopsticks on a piano, but beyond that I couldn't sit still. Yet, I don't hear a great musician and think, "They just practiced more than I did."
That's why certain activities are viewed with more respect. For example, being great at Modern Warfare 2 is not something that will win you much praise. People don't view it as taking much willpower to play a video game for hours on end. It's kind of like the default state of most people. But people will likely praise you for being great at math.
2) He also seems to think that inherent ability plays no role (I presume that 5% luck, is luck in the instance of the game, not luck being gifted at it). While practice is important. I suspect there is probably large variance in the initial condition of various people for various activities.
The only thing you can probably be confident of is that with good practice you will improve. But no guarantee that if you do more hours of practice than another person that you will be better.
Tracking something like this in class I suspect is more likely to actually teach kids that practice isn't sufficient. In fifth grade I spent many of hours trying to breakdance, and I never could do a headspin that friends of mine could do almost out the womb. I think I'd only be more discouraged to see how much time I wasted on it. Although looking back, it was worth it, and it strengthened my upper body for other activities. I just can't head spin for some reason.
> I presume that 5% luck, is luck in the instance of the game, not luck being gifted at it
I think you're right, because he also says, "playing a best of five series eliminates most of the luck." Playing best of five wouldn't eliminate the luck of being gifted, because that kind of luck would give you an advantage in each game. Luck in the instance of the game probably averages out over many games.
> The only thing you can probably be confident of is that with good practice you will improve. But no guarantee that if you do more hours of practice than another person that you will be better.
Absolutely. I remember when I was learning to play guitar, my book talked about a guitarist who became very proficient very quickly, because his father was adamant about him only practicing the right things. I, on the other hand, always wanted to jump in and start playing Hendrix or Zeppelin. I didn't want to play scales for hours on end, so even after a few years I was only marginally better.
Not to mention the fact that while practice and genetics are extremely important at finding success, innate enjoyment/passion is also a major factor. I can think of several things that I'm particularly good at and have practiced a lot on, yet don't enjoy -- soccer being one of them.
I think that there's such a thing as a 'calling in life' and that's why people stand out -- it's a combo of genetics, practice and passion. One would think that vision is a genetic prerequisite to playing the piano, and yet there are people like Stevie Wonder who've surpassed anyone's expectations.
Another observation following from the example of Stevie Wonder: if you compare, say, "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" with "I Just Called To Say I Love You", it's not at all clear that more practice makes you better.
Adams comes in sideways sometime. He wants to compare logs with someone else who practices a lot? What? You play against someone to see who is best. Why does he default to thinking that we all expect that to prove that the winner was naturally better?
He seems to believe that he is the only person who understands that practice makes perfect. He should surely make sure to only play against other studied players, but the playing of the game is what determines who is best.
And who is best is the sum total of the practice and natural ability of the individual players.
I keep seeing blog posts taking on the same tack. They promise to reveal some sort of insight, but usually say something banal which has been slanted with assumptions.
He starts by saying professional sports and competition are foolish; but ends up agreeing with the notion with circular reasoning.
Yep. Sometime, even people with a lot of practice in writing thought provoking blog posts lose their "game".
Adams will "win" his next post I'm sure. He practiced a lot, but he also has this elusive thing called talent. He just mistook it for practice this time around.
1) He implies that practice is something to be less proud of than inherent ability to play pool. Life is all about making decisions to practice/pursue/play certain things over another.
The other thing is that few people have the willpower/dediction/stamina to devote time to activities that truly challenge them. Sure, I can play chopsticks on a piano, but beyond that I couldn't sit still. Yet, I don't hear a great musician and think, "They just practiced more than I did."
That's why certain activities are viewed with more respect. For example, being great at Modern Warfare 2 is not something that will win you much praise. People don't view it as taking much willpower to play a video game for hours on end. It's kind of like the default state of most people. But people will likely praise you for being great at math.
2) He also seems to think that inherent ability plays no role (I presume that 5% luck, is luck in the instance of the game, not luck being gifted at it). While practice is important. I suspect there is probably large variance in the initial condition of various people for various activities.
The only thing you can probably be confident of is that with good practice you will improve. But no guarantee that if you do more hours of practice than another person that you will be better.
Tracking something like this in class I suspect is more likely to actually teach kids that practice isn't sufficient. In fifth grade I spent many of hours trying to breakdance, and I never could do a headspin that friends of mine could do almost out the womb. I think I'd only be more discouraged to see how much time I wasted on it. Although looking back, it was worth it, and it strengthened my upper body for other activities. I just can't head spin for some reason.