PraiseforGrit:ThePowerofPassionandPerseverance

“Profoundly important. Foreons, we’ve been trappedinside the myth of innatetalent. Angela Duckworthshines a bright light into atruer understanding of howwe achieve. We owe her agreatdebt.”

—DavidShenk,authorofTheGeniusinAllofUs:

NewInsightsintoGenetics,Talent,andIQ

“Enlightening . . . Gritteaches that life’s high peaksaren’t necessarily conqueredby the naturally nimble but,rather, by those willing toendure, wait out the storm,andtryagain.”

—EdViesturs,seven-timeclimberofMountEverest

andauthorofNoShortcutstotheTop

“Masterful . . .Grit offers atruly sane perspective: thattrue success comes whenwedevoteourselvestoendeavorsthatgiveusjoyandpurpose.”

—AriannaHuffington,authorofThrive

“Readable, compelling, andtotally persuasive. The ideasinthisbookhavethepotentialto transform education,management, and theway itsreaders live. Angela

Duckworth’s Grit is anationaltreasure.”

—LawrenceH.Summers,formersecretaryofthetreasuryandPresident

EmeritusatHarvardUniversity

“Fascinating. AngelaDuckworth pulls togetherdecades of psychologicalresearch, inspiring successstories from business andsports, and her own unique

personal experience anddistills it all into a set ofpractical strategies to makeyourself and your childrenmore motivated, morepassionate, and morepersistent at work and atschool.”

—PaulTough,authorofHowChildrenSucceed

“A thoughtful and engagingexploration of what predictssuccess. Grit takes on

widespread misconceptionsandpredictorsofwhatmakesus strive harder and pushfurther. . .Duckworth’sownstory, wound throughout herresearch, ends updemonstrating her theorybest: passion andperseverancemakeupgrit.”

—ToryBurch,chairman,CEOanddesignerofTory

Burch

“An important book . . . Inthese pages, the leadingscholarlyexpertonthepowerofgrit (whatmymomcalled‘stick-to-it-iveness’) carriesher message to a wideraudience,usingaptanecdotesand aphorisms to illustratehow we can usefully applyher insights to our own livesandthoseofourkids.”

—RobertD.Putnam,professorofpublicpolicyat

HarvardUniversityand

authorofBowlingAloneandOurKids

“Empowering . . . AngelaDuckworth compels attentionwith her idea that regularindividualswhoexerciseself-control and perseverance canreach as high as those whoare naturally talented—thatyour mindset is as importantasyourmind.”

—SoledadO’Brien,chairmanofStarfishMedia

GroupandformercoanchorofCNN’sAmerican

Morning

“Invaluable . . . In a worldwhereaccesstoknowledgeisunprecedented, this bookdescribes the key trait ofthosewhowilloptimallytakeadvantage of it. Grit willinspireeveryonewhoreadsitto stick to something hardthattheyhaveapassionfor.”

—SalKhan,founderofKhanAcademy

“IloveanideathatchallengesourconventionalwisdomandGrit does just that! Put asidewhat you think you knowabout getting ahead andoutlasting your competition,even if they are moretalented. Getting smarterwon’t help you—stickingwithitwill!”

—SimonSinek,authorofStartWithWhyandLeaders

EatLast

“Incredibly important . . .There is deeply embodiedgrit, which is born of love,purpose, truth to one’s coreunder ferocious heat, and arelentless passion for whatcan only be revealed on therazor’sedge;and there is thecool, patient, disciplinedcultivation and study of

resiliencethatcanteachusallhow to get there. AngelaDuckworth’s masterpiecestraddles both worlds,offeringalevelofnuancethatIhaven’treadbefore.”

—JoshWaitzkin,internationalchessmaster,TaiChiPushHandsworldchampion,andauthorof

TheArtofLearning

“A combination of richscience, compelling stories,

crisp graceful prose, andappealingly personalexamples . . . Without adoubt, this is the mosttransformative, eye-openingbookI’vereadthisyear.”

—SonjaLyubomirsky,professor,Universityof

California,RiversideandauthorofTheHowof

Happiness

“This book gets into yourhead, which is where it

belongs . . . For educatorswho want our kids tosucceed, this is anindispensableread.”

—JoelKlein,formerchancellor,NewYorkCity

publicschools

“Grit delivers! AngelaDuckworthsharesthestories,thescience,andthepositivitybehind sustained success . . .Amust-read.”

—BarbaraFredrickson,authorofPositivityandLove

2.0andpresidentoftheInternationalPositive

PsychologyAssociation

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CONTENTS

PREFACE

PARTI:WHATGRITISANDWHYITMATTERS

CHAPTER1:SHOWINGUPCHAPTER2:DISTRACTEDBY

TALENT

CHAPTER3:EFFORTCOUNTSTWICE

CHAPTER4:HOWGRITTYAREYOU?

CHAPTER5:GRITGROWS

PARTII:GROWINGGRITFROMTHEINSIDEOUT

CHAPTER6:INTERESTCHAPTER7:PRACTICECHAPTER8:PURPOSECHAPTER9:HOPE

PARTIII:GROWINGGRITFROMTHEOUTSIDEIN

CHAPTER10:PARENTINGFORGRIT

CHAPTER11:THEPLAYINGFIELDSOFGRIT

CHAPTER12:ACULTUREOFGRIT

CHAPTER13:CONCLUSION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTSRECOMMENDEDREADINGABOUTTHEAUTHORNOTESINDEX

ForJason

PREFACE

Growingup,Iheardthewordgeniusalot.

Itwasalwaysmydadwhobroughtitup.Helikedtosay,apropos of nothing at all,“You know, you’re nogenius!”Thispronouncement

might come in themiddle ofdinner, during a commercialbreak for The Love Boat, orafterhe floppeddownon thecouch with the Wall StreetJournal.

I don’t remember how Iresponded. Maybe Ipretendednottohear.

My dad’s thoughts turnedfrequently to genius, talent,and who had more thanwhom. He was deeplyconcernedwithhowsmarthe

was. He was deeplyconcernedwithhowsmarthisfamilywas.

Iwasn’ttheonlyproblem.My dad didn’t think mybrother and sister weregeniuses, either. By hisyardstick, none of usmeasured up to Einstein.Apparently, this was a greatdisappointment. Dad worriedthat this intellectualhandicapwould limit what we’deventuallyachieveinlife.

Two years ago, I wasfortunate enough to beawarded a MacArthurFellowship,sometimescalledthe“geniusgrant.”Youdon’tapplyfortheMacArthur.Youdon’t ask your friends orcolleagues to nominate you.Instead, a secret committeethatincludesthetoppeopleinyour field decides you’redoing important and creativework.

When I received theunexpectedcalltellingmethenews, my first reaction wasone of gratitude andamazement. Then mythoughts turned to my dadand his offhand diagnoses ofmy intellectual potential. Hewasn’t wrong; I didn’t winthe MacArthur because I’mleagues smarter than myfellowpsychologists. Instead,hehadtherightanswer(“No,she’s not”) to the wrong

question(“Issheagenius?”).There was about a month

between the MacArthur calland its officialannouncement. Apart frommy husband, I wasn’tpermittedtotellanyone.Thatgave me time to ponder theirony of the situation. A girlwho is told repeatedly thatshe’s no genius ends upwinning an award for beingone. The award goes to herbecause she has discovered

that what we eventuallyaccomplishmaydependmoreon our passion andperseverance than on ourinnatetalent.Shehasbythenamassed degrees from somepretty tough schools, but inthethirdgrade,shedidn’ttesthigh enough for the giftedand talented program. Herparents are Chineseimmigrants,butshedidn’tgetlectured on the salvation ofhard work. Against

stereotype, she can’t play anoteofpianoorviolin.

The morning theMacArthurwas announced, Iwalked over to my parents’apartment.Mymomanddadhad already heard the news,and sohad several “aunties,”who were calling in rapidsuccession to offercongratulations. Finally,when the phone stoppedringing,mydadturnedtomeandsaid,“I’mproudofyou.”

I had so much to say inresponse, but instead I justsaid,“Thanks,Dad.”

There was no senserehashing the past. I knewthat, in fact,hewas proudofme.

Still,partofmewantedtotravelback in time towhenIwasayounggirl.I’dtellhimwhatIknownow.

Iwouldsay,“Dad,yousayI’mno genius. Iwon’t arguewiththat.Youknowplentyof

peoplewhoaresmarterthanIam.” I can imagine his headnoddinginsoberagreement.

“But let me tell yousomething.I’mgoingtogrowup to lovemywork asmuchas you love yours. I won’tjust have a job; I’ll have acalling. I’ll challenge myselfevery day. When I getknocked down, I’ll get backup.Imaynotbethesmartestperson in the room, but I’llstrivetobethegrittiest.”

And if he was stilllistening: “In the long run,Dad, grit may matter morethantalent.”

All these years later, Ihave the scientific evidenceto prove my point. What’smore, I know that grit ismutable,notfixed,andIhaveinsights from research abouthowtogrowit.

This book summarizeseverythingI’ve learnedaboutgrit.

WhenIfinishedwritingit,I went to visit my dad.Chapter by chapter, over thecourse of days, I read himeveryline.He’sbeenbattlingParkinson’s disease for thelastdecadeorso,andI’mnotentirely sure how much heunderstood. Still, he seemedto be listening intently, andwhen I was done, he lookedatme.Afterwhatfelt likeaneternity,henoddedonce.Andthenhesmiled.

PartI

WHATGRITISANDWHYITMATTERS

Chapter1

SHOWINGUP

By the time you set foot onthe campus of the United

States Military Academy atWestPoint,you’veearnedit.

The admissions processfor West Point is at least asrigorous as for the mostselective universities. Topscores on the SAT or ACTand outstanding high schoolgrades are amust. Butwhenyou apply to Harvard, youdon’t need to start yourapplication in the eleventhgrade, and you don’t need tosecure a nomination from a

member of Congress, asenator, or the vice presidentof the United States. Youdon’t,forthatmatter,havetoget superlative marks in afitness assessment thatincludes running, push-ups,sit-ups,andpull-ups.

Each year, in their junioryear of high school, morethan 14,000 applicants beginthe admissions process. Thispool is winnowed to just4,000whosucceed ingetting

the required nomination.Slightly more than half ofthose applicants—about2,500—meet West Point’srigorous academic andphysical standards, and fromthat select group just 1,200are admitted and enrolled.Nearly all the men andwomen who come to WestPoint were varsity athletes;mostwereteamcaptains.

Andyet,oneinfivecadetswill drop out before

graduation. What’s moreremarkable is that,historically, a substantialfraction of dropouts leave intheir very first summer,during an intensive seven-week training programnamed, even in officialliterature,BeastBarracks.Or,forshort,justBeast.

Who spends two yearstrying toget intoaplaceandthendropsoutinthefirsttwomonths?

Then again, these are noordinary months. Beast isdescribed in the West Pointhandbook for new cadets as“the most physically andemotionally demanding partof your four years at WestPoint . . . designed to helpyoumake the transition fromnewcadettoSoldier.”

ATypicalDayatBeastBarracks

5:00a.m.

Wake-up

5:30a.m.

ReveilleFormation

5:30to6:55a.m.

PhysicalTraining

6:55to7:25a.m.

PersonalMaintenance

7:30to

Breakfast

8:15a.m.

8:30to12:45p.m.

Training/Classes

1:00to1:45p.m.

Lunch

2:00to3:45p.m.

Training/Classes

4:00to5:30p.m.

OrganizedAthletics

5:30to5:55p.m.

PersonalMaintenance

6:00to6:45p.m.

Dinner

7:00to

Training/Classes

9:00p.m.9:00to10:00p.m.

Commander’sTime

10:00p.m.

Taps

The day begins at 5:00a.m. By 5:30, cadets are information, standing atattention,honoringtheraising

of the United States flag.Then followsahardworkout—running or calisthenics—followed by a nonstoprotation of marching information, classroominstruction,weapons training,andathletics.Lightsout, toamelancholybuglesongcalled“Taps,” occurs at 10:00 p.m.And on the next day theroutine startsoveragain.Oh,and there are no weekends,no breaks other than meals,

and virtually no contactwithfamily and friends outside ofWestPoint.

Onecadet’sdescriptionofBeast:“Youarechallengedina variety of ways in everydevelopmental area—mentally, physically,militarily, and socially. Thesystem will find yourweaknesses, but that’s thepoint—West Point toughensyou.”

So, who makes it throughBeast?

It was 2004 and mysecond year of graduateschool in psychologywhen Iset about answering thatquestion,butfordecades, theU.S. Army has been askingthesamething.Infact,itwasin 1955—almost fifty yearsbefore I began working onthis puzzle—that a youngpsychologist named JerryKagan was drafted into the

army, ordered to report toWest Point, and assigned totest new cadets for thepurpose of identifying whowould stay and who wouldleave.As fatewould have it,Jerry was not only the firstpsychologist to studydropping out at West Point,he was also the firstpsychologistImetincollege.Iendedupworkingpart-timeinhislabfortwoyears.

Jerry described earlyefforts to separate the wheatfrom the chaff atWest Pointas dramatically unsuccessful.He recalled in particularspending hundreds of hoursshowing cadets cards printedwith pictures and asking theyoungmentomakeupstoriesto fit them. This test wasmeanttounearthdeep-seated,unconsciousmotives,and thegeneral idea was that cadetswho visualized noble deeds

and courageousaccomplishments should betheoneswhowouldgraduateinsteadofdroppingout.Likealotofideasthatsoundgoodin principle, this one didn’tworksowellinpractice.Thestories the cadets told werecolorful and fun to listen to,but they had absolutelynothing to do with decisionsthe cadets made in theiractuallives.

Since then, several moregenerations of psychologistsdevoted themselves to theattrition issue, but not oneresearcher could say withmuch certainty why some ofthe most promising cadetsroutinely quit when theirtraininghadjustbegun.

Soon after learning aboutBeast,Ifoundmywaytotheoffice of Mike Matthews, amilitary psychologist who’sbeen a West Point faculty

member for years. MikeexplainedthattheWestPointadmissions processsuccessfully identified menand women who had thepotential to thrive there. Inparticular, admissions staffcalculate for each applicantsomething called the WholeCandidate Score, a weightedaverageofSATorACTexamscores, high school rankadjusted for the number ofstudents in the applicant’s

graduating class, expertappraisals of leadershippotential,andperformanceonobjective measures ofphysicalfitness.

You can think of theWhole Candidate Score asWest Point’s best guess athow much talent applicantshavefor thediverse rigorsofits four-year program. Inother words, it’s an estimateof how easily cadets will

master the many skillsrequiredofamilitaryleader.

The Whole CandidateScore is the single mostimportant factor in WestPoint admissions, and yet itdidn’t reliably predict whowouldmakeitthroughBeast.In fact, cadets with thehighest Whole CandidateScores were just as likely todrop out as those with thelowest. And this was whyMike’sdoorwasopentome.

From his own experiencejoining the air force as ayoungman,Mike had a cluetotheriddle.Whiletherigorsofhisinductionweren’tquiteasharrowingasthoseofWestPoint, there were notablesimilarities. The mostimportant were challengesthat exceeded current skills.For the first time in theirlives, Mike and the otherrecruitswerebeingasked,onan hourly basis, to do things

theycouldn’tyetdo.“Withintwoweeks,”Mike recalls, “Iwas tired, lonely, frustrated,andreadytoquit—aswereallofmyclassmates.”

Some did quit, but Mikedidnot.

WhatstruckMikewasthatrising to the occasion hadalmost nothing to do withtalent. Those who droppedout of training rarely did sofrom lack of ability. Rather,what mattered, Mike said,

was a “never give up”attitude.

Around that time, it wasn’tjustMikeMatthewswhowastalking tomeabout thiskindof hang-in-there posturetoward challenge. As agraduate student justbeginning to probe thepsychologyof success, Iwasinterviewing leaders inbusiness, art, athletics,

journalism, academia,medicine, and law:Who arethe people at the very top ofyour field? What are theylike? What do you thinkmakesthemspecial?

Someofthecharacteristicsthat emerged in theseinterviews were very field-specific. For instance, morethan one businesspersonmentioned an appetite fortaking financial risks:“You’ve got to be able to

make calculated decisionsaboutmillions of dollars andstillgotosleepatnight.”Butthis seemed entirely besidethe point for artists, whoinstead mentioned a drive tocreate:“I likemakingstuff.Idon’tknowwhy,butIdo.”Incontrast,athletesmentionedadifferent kind of motivation,one driven by the thrill ofvictory: “Winners love to gohead-to-head with otherpeople.Winnershatelosing.”

In addition to theseparticulars, there emergedcertain commonalities, andtheywerewhatinterestedmemost.Nomatterthefield,themost successful people werelucky and talented. I’d heardthatbefore,andIdidn’tdoubtit.

But the story of successdidn’tendthere.Manyofthepeople I talked to could alsorecount tales of rising starswho, to everyone’s surprise,

dropped out or lost interestbeforetheycouldrealizetheirpotential.

Apparently, it wascritically important—and notat all easy—to keep goingafter failure: “Some peopleare great when things aregoingwell,buttheyfallapartwhen things aren’t.” Highachievers described in theseinterviewsreallystuck itout:“This one guy, he wasn’tactually thebestwriterat the

beginning.Imean,weusedtoread his stories and have alaughbecausethewritingwasso, you know, clumsy andmelodramatic. But he gotbetterandbetter,andlastyearhewonaGuggenheim.”Andthey were constantly drivento improve: “She’s neversatisfied. You’d think shewould be, by now, but she’sher ownharshest critic.”Thehighly accomplished wereparagonsofperseverance.

Why were the highlyaccomplished so dogged intheirpursuits?Formost,therewas no realistic expectationof ever catching up to theirambitions. In theirowneyes,theywerenevergoodenough.They were the opposite ofcomplacent. And yet, in avery real sense, they weresatisfied being unsatisfied.Each was chasing somethingof unparalleled interest andimportance, and it was the

chase—as much as thecapture—that was gratifying.Even if some of the thingstheyhadtodowereboring,orfrustrating, or even painful,they wouldn’t dream ofgiving up. Their passionwasenduring.

In sum, no matter thedomain,thehighlysuccessfulhad a kind of ferociousdetermination thatplayedoutin two ways. First, theseexemplars were unusually

resilient and hardworking.Second, theyknewinavery,very deep way what it wasthey wanted. They not onlyhad determination, they haddirection.

Itwas thiscombinationofpassionandperseverancethatmade high achievers special.Inaword,theyhadgrit.

Forme,thequestionbecame:How do you measure

something so intangible?Something that decades ofmilitary psychologists hadn’tbeen able to quantify?Something those verysuccessful people I’dinterviewed said they couldrecognize on sight, butcouldn’t think of how todirectlytestfor?

Isatdownandlookedovermy interview notes. And Istartedwriting questions thatcaptured, sometimes

verbatim, descriptions ofwhatitmeanstohavegrit.

Halfofthequestionswereabout perseverance. Theyasked how much you agreewith statements like “I haveovercomesetbackstoconqueran important challenge” and“IfinishwhateverIbegin.”

The other half of thequestionswereaboutpassion.They asked whether your“interestschangefromyeartoyear”andtheextenttowhich

you“havebeenobsessedwithacertainideaorprojectforashort time but later lostinterest.”

What emerged was theGrit Scale—a test that,whentaken honestly, measures theextenttowhichyouapproachlifewithgrit.

In July 2004, on the secondday of Beast, 1,218 West

PointcadetssatdowntotaketheGritScale.

Thedaybefore,cadetshadsaid good-bye to their momsand dads (a farewell forwhich West Point allocatesexactly ninety seconds),gotten their heads shaved(justthemen),changedoutofcivilian clothing and into thefamous gray andwhiteWestPoint uniform, and receivedtheir footlockers, helmets,and other gear. Though they

mayhavemistakenly thoughtthey already knewhow, theywere instructed by a fourth-year cadet in the properwayto stand in line (“Step up tomy line!Notonmy line,notovermy line, not behindmyline.Stepuptomyline!”).

Initially, I looked to seehowgritscoreslinedupwithaptitude. Guess what? Gritscores bore absolutely norelationship to the WholeCandidate Scores that had

been so painstakinglycalculated during theadmissions process. In otherwords, how talented a cadetwas said nothing about theirgrit,andviceversa.

Theseparationofgritfromtalent was consistent withMike’s observations of airforcetraining,butwhenIfirststumbled onto this finding itcameasarealsurprise.Afterall, why shouldn’t thetalented endure? Logically,

the talented should stickaround and try hard, becausewhen they do, they dophenomenally well. At WestPoint, for example, amongcadetswhoultimatelymakeitthrough Beast, the WholeCandidate Score is amarvelous predictor of everymetric West Point tracks. Itnot only predicts academicgrades, but military andphysical fitness marks aswell.

So it’s surprising, really,that talent is no guarantee ofgrit. In this book, we’llexplorethereasonswhy.

By the last day of Beast,seventy-one cadets haddroppedout.

Grit turned out to be anastoundingly reliablepredictor of who made itthroughandwhodidnot.

The next year, I returnedtoWestPointtorunthesamestudy. This time, sixty-twocadets dropped out of Beast,and again grit predicted whowouldstay.

In contrast, stayers andleavers had indistinguishableWhole Candidate Scores. Ilooked a little closer at theindividual components thatmakeupthescore.Again,nodifferences.

So, what matters formakingitthroughBeast?

Not your SAT scores, notyour high school rank, notyour leadership experience,notyourathleticability.

NotyourWholeCandidateScore.

Whatmattersisgrit.

DoesgritmatterbeyondWestPoint? To find out, I lookedfor other situations so

challenging that a lot ofpeople drop out. I wanted toknowwhether itwas just therigorsofBeastthatdemandedgrit, or whether, in general,grit helped people stick totheircommitments.

The next arena where Itestedgrit’spowerwassales,aprofessioninwhichdaily,ifnothourly,rejectionisparforthe course. I asked hundredsofmenandwomenemployedat the same vacation time-

share company to answer abattery of personalityquestionnaires, including theGritScale.Sixmonthslater,Irevisited the company, bywhich time55percentof thesalespeople were gone. Gritpredicted who stayed andwho left.Moreover, no othercommonly measuredpersonality trait—includingextroversion, emotionalstability, andconscientiousness—was as

effective as grit in predictingjobretention.

Around the same time, Ireceived a call from theChicagoPublicSchools.Likethe psychologists at WestPoint, researchers there wereeagertolearnmoreaboutthestudents who wouldsuccessfully earn their highschooldiplomas.Thatspring,thousands of high schooljuniors completed anabbreviatedGrit Scale, along

with a battery of otherquestionnaires. More than ayearlater,12percentofthosestudents failed to graduate.Students who graduated onschedule were grittier, andgrit was a more powerfulpredictor of graduation thanhow much students caredabout school, howconscientioustheywereabouttheir studies, and even howsafetheyfeltatschool.

Likewise, in two largeAmerican samples, I foundthatgrittier adultsweremorelikely to get further in theirformal schooling. Adultswho’dearnedanMBA,PhD,MD, JD, or another graduatedegree were grittier thanthose who’d only graduatedfrom four-year colleges,whowere in turn grittier thanthose who’d accumulatedsome college credits but nodegree. Interestingly, adults

who’d successfully earneddegrees from two-yearcolleges scored slightlyhigherthangraduatesoffour-year colleges. This puzzledmeatfirst,butIsoonlearnedthat the dropout rates atcommunitycollegescanbeashigh as 80 percent. Thosewho defy the odds areespeciallygritty.

In parallel, I started apartnership with the ArmySpecial Operations Forces,

better known as the GreenBerets. These are among thearmy’s best-trained soldiers,assignedsomeofthetoughestandmostdangerousmissions.TrainingfortheGreenBeretsis a grueling, multistageaffair. The stage I studiedcomes after nine weeks ofboot camp, four weeks ofinfantry training, threeweeksof airborne school, and fourweeksofapreparationcoursefocused on land navigation.

Allthesepreliminarytrainingexperiences are very, veryhard,andateverystagethereare men who don’t make itthrough. But the SpecialForces Selection Course iseven harder. In the words ofits commanding general,James Parker, this is “wherewedecidewhowill andwhowillnot”enterthefinalstagesofGreenBerettraining.

The Selection Coursemakes Beast Barracks look

like summer vacation.Startingbeforedawn,traineesgo full-throttle until nine inthe evening. In addition todaytime and nighttimenavigation exercises, thereare four- and six-mile runsand marches, sometimesunder a sixty-five-poundload, and attempts at anobstacle course informallyknown as “Nasty Nick,”which includes crawlingthrough water under barbed

wire, walking on elevatedlogs, negotiating cargo nets,andswingingfromhorizontalladders.

Just getting to theSelection Course is anaccomplishment,butevenso,42percentofthecandidatesIstudied voluntarily withdrewbefore it was over. So whatdistinguished the men whomadeitthrough?Grit.

What else, other thangrit,predicts success in the

military, education, andbusiness? In sales, I foundthat prior experience helps—novicesarelesslikelytokeeptheir jobs than those withexperience. In the Chicagopublic school system, asupportive teacher made itmore likely that studentswould graduate. And foraspiring Green Berets,baseline physical fitness atthe start of training isessential.

But in each of thesedomains, when you comparepeople matched on thesecharacteristics, grit stillpredicts success. Regardlessof specific attributes andadvantagesthathelpsomeonesucceed in each of thesediversedomainsofchallenge,gritmattersinallofthem.

The year I started graduateschool, the documentary

Spellboundwasreleased.Thefilm follows three boys andfive girls as they prepare forand compete in the finals oftheScrippsNationalSpellingBee.Toget to the finals—anadrenaline-filled three-dayaffair staged annually inWashington, DC, andbroadcast live on ESPN,which normally focuses itsprogramming on high-stakessports matchups—these kidsmust first “outspell”

thousands of other studentsfrom hundreds of schoolsacross the country. Thismeans spelling increasinglyobscure words without asingle error, in round afterround, first besting all theother students in thecontestant’s classroom, thenintheirgrade,school,district,andregion.Spellbound got me

wondering:Towhatextentisflawlesslyspellingwordslike

schottische and cymotrichousamatterofprecociousverbaltalent, and to what extent isgritatplay?

I called the Bee’sexecutivedirector,adynamicwoman (and formerchampion speller herself)namedPaigeKimble.Kimblewas as curious as I was tolearn more about thepsychological makeup ofwinners. She agreed to sendout questionnaires to all 273

spellers just as soon as theyqualifiedforthefinals,whichwould take place severalmonthslater.Inreturnfortheprincely rewardof a$25giftcard, about two-thirds of thespellers returned thequestionnairestomylab.Theoldest respondentwas fifteenyears old, the absolute agelimit according tocompetition rules, and theyoungestwasjustseven.

In addition to completingthe Grit Scale, spellersreportedhowmuchtimetheydevoted to spelling practice.On average, they practicedmore than an hour a day onweekdaysandmore than twohoursadayonweekends.Butthere was a lot of variationaround these averages: somespellerswerehardly studyingat all, and some werestudying as much as ninehoursonagivenSaturday!

Separately, I contacted asubsample of spellers andadministered a verbalintelligence test. As a group,the spellers demonstratedunusual verbal ability. Buttherewasa fairlywiderangeof scores, with some kidsscoring at the verbal prodigylevelandothers“average”fortheirage.

WhenESPNairedthefinalrounds of the competition, Iwatched all the way through

totheconcludingsuspensefulmoments when, at last,thirteen-year-old AnuragKashyap correctly spelledA-P-P-O-G-G-I-A-T-U-R-A (amusical term for a kind ofgrace note) to win thechampionship.

Then, with the finalrankings in hand, I analyzedmydata.

Here’s what I found:measurements of grit takenmonths before the final

competition predicted howwell spellers wouldeventually perform. Putsimply, grittier kids wentfurther in competition. Howdid they do it? By studyingmany more hours and, also,by competing in morespellingbees.

What about talent?Verbalintelligence also predictedgettingfurtherincompetition.Buttherewasnorelationshipat all between verbal IQ and

grit. What’s more, verballytalentedspellersdidnotstudyany more than less ablespellers, nor did they have alonger track record ofcompetition.

The separation of grit andtalent emerged again in aseparate study I ran on IvyLeague undergraduates.There, SAT scores and gritwere, in fact, inverselycorrelated. Students in thatselectsamplewhohadhigher

SATscoreswere,onaverage,just slightly less gritty thantheir peers. Putting togetherthis finding with the otherdataI’dcollected,Icametoafundamental insight thatwouldguidemyfuturework:Our potential is one thing.What we do with it is quiteanother.

Chapter2

DISTRACTEDBYTALENT

BeforeIwasapsychologist,Iwas a teacher. It was in the

classroom—years before I’deven heard of Beast—that Ibegantoseethattalentisnotallthereistoachievement.

Iwastwenty-sevenwhenIstartedteachingfull-time.Themonthbefore,I’dquitmyjobat McKinsey, a globalmanagement consulting firmwhoseNewYorkCity officeoccupied several floors of ablue-glass skyscraper inmidtown. My colleagueswere a bit bewildered bymy

decision. Why leave acompany that most of mypeers were dying to join—one regularly singled out asone of the world’s smartestandmostinfluential?

Acquaintances assumed Iwas trading eighty-hourworkweeks for a morerelaxed lifestyle, but ofcourse, anyonewho’s been ateacherknowsthat there’snoharder job in the world. Sowhy leave? In someways, it

was consulting, not teaching,that was the detour.Throughout college, I’dtutored and mentored kidsfromthelocalpublicschools.After graduation, I started atuition-free academicenrichment program and ranit for twoyears.Then Iwentto Oxford and completed adegree in neuroscience,studying the neuralmechanisms of dyslexia. So

whenIstartedteaching,IfeltlikeIwasbackontrack.

Evenso,thetransitionwasabrupt. In a singleweek,mysalarywentfromSeriously?Iactually get paid this much?to Wow! How the heck doteachers in this city makeendsmeet?Dinnerwasnowasandwich eaten hurriedlywhile grading papers, notsushiorderedinattheclient’sexpense.Icommutedtoworkon the same subway line but

stayed on the train pastmidtown,gettingoffsixstopsfarthersouth: theLowerEastSide. Instead of pumps,pearls, and a tailored suit, Iwore sensible shoes I couldstand inalldayanddresses Iwouldn’t mind gettingcoveredinchalk.

My students were twelveand thirteen years old. Mostlived in the housing projectsclusteredbetweenAvenuesAand D. This was before the

neighborhood sprouted hipcafés on every corner. Thefall I started teaching there,ourschoolwaspickedforthesetofamovieaboutarough-and-tumble school in adistressed urbanneighborhood.Myjobwastohelp my students learnseventh-grademath: fractionsand decimals and therudimentary building blocksofalgebraandgeometry.

Eventhatfirstweek,itwasobvious that some of mystudents picked upmathematical concepts moreeasily than their classmates.Teaching the most talentedstudents in the class was ajoy. They were, quiteliterally, “quick studies.”Without much prompting,they saw the underlyingpattern in a series of mathproblems that less ablestudents struggled to grasp.

They’d watch me do aproblem once on the boardand say, “I get it!” and thenwork out the next onecorrectlyontheirown.

Andyet, at the endof thefirst marking period, I wassurprisedtofindthatsomeofthese very able studentsweren’t doing as well as I’dexpected. Some did verywell, of course. But morethan a few of my mosttalented students were

earning lackluster grades orworse.

In contrast, several of thestudents who initiallystruggled were faring betterthan I’d expected. These“overachievers” wouldreliably come to class everyday with everything theyneeded. Instead of playingaround and looking out thewindow, they took notes andasked questions. When theydidn’tget something the first

time around, they tried againandagain,sometimescomingfor extra help during theirlunch period or duringafternoon electives. Theirhard work showed in theirgrades.

Apparently, aptitude didnot guarantee achievement.Talentformathwasdifferentfromexcellinginmathclass.

This came as a surprise.After all, conventionalwisdom says that math is a

subject in which the moretalentedstudentsareexpectedto excel, leaving classmateswho are simply “not mathpeople”behind.Tobehonest,I began the school year withthat very assumption. Itseemed a sure bet that thoseforwhom things came easilywould continue to outpacetheir classmates. In fact, Iexpectedthattheachievementgap separating the naturals

from the rest of the classwouldonlywidenovertime.I’d been distracted by

talent.Gradually, I began to ask

myself hard questions.WhenI taught a lesson and theconceptfailedtogel,coulditbe that the struggling studentneeded to struggle just a bitlonger? Could it be that Ineededtofindadifferentwayto explain what I was tryingtogetacross?Beforejumping

to the conclusion that talentwas destiny, should I beconsideringtheimportanceofeffort? And, as a teacher,wasn’t itmyresponsibilitytofigure out how to sustaineffort—boththestudents’andmyown—justabitlonger?

At the same time, I beganto reflect on how smart evenmyweakeststudentssoundedwhentheytalkedaboutthingsthat genuinely interestedthem. These were

conversations I found almostimpossible to follow:discourses on basketballstatistics, the lyrics to songsthey really liked, andcomplicated plotlines aboutwho was no longer speakingto whom and why. When Igot to know my studentsbetter,Idiscoveredthatallofthem had mastered anynumber of complicated ideasin their very complicateddaily lives. Honestly, was

getting x all by itself in analgebraic equation all thatmuchharder?

My students weren’tequallytalented.Still,whenitcame to learning seventh-grademath,coulditbethatiftheyandImusteredsufficienteffortovertime,they’dgettowhere theyneeded?Surely, Ithought, they were alltalentedenough.

Towardtheendoftheschoolyear, my fiancé became myhusband. For the sake of hisown post-McKinsey career,we packed up and movedfrom New York to SanFrancisco. I found a new jobteachingmathatLowellHighSchool.

Compared to my LowerEast Side classroom, Lowellwasanalternateuniverse.

Tucked away in aperpetually foggy basin near

the Pacific Ocean, Lowell istheonlypublichighschoolinSan Francisco that admitsstudents on the basis ofacademic merit. The largestfeeder to the University ofCalifornia system, Lowellsendsmanyofitsgraduatestothe country’s most selectiveuniversities.

If, like me, you wereraisedontheEastCoast,youcan think of Lowell as theStuyvesant of San Francisco.

Such imagerymight bring tomindwhizkidswhoareleapsand bounds smarter thanthosewho lack the top-notchtest scores and grades to getin.

WhatIdiscoveredwasthatLowell students weredistinguished more by theirwork ethic than by theirintelligence. I once askedstudents in my homeroomhowmuch they studied. Thetypical answer? Hours and

hours.Notinaweek,butinasingleday.

Still, like at any otherschool,therewastremendousvariation in how hardstudents worked and howwelltheyperformed.

Just as I’d found in NewYork, some of the students Iexpected to excel, becausemath came so easy to them,did worse than theirclassmates. On the otherhand, some of my hardest

workerswereconsistentlymyhighest performers on testsandquizzes.

One of these very hardworkerswasDavidLuong.

Davidwasinmyfreshmanalgebraclass.Thereweretwokinds of algebra classes atLowell: the accelerated trackled to Advanced PlacementCalculus by senior year, andtheregulartrack,whichIwasteaching,didn’t.Thestudentsin my class hadn’t scored

high enough on Lowell’smath placement exam to getintotheacceleratedtrack.

David didn’t stand out atfirst. He was quiet and sattoward thebackof the room.Hedidn’traisehishandalot;herarelyvolunteeredtocometo the board to solveproblems.

But I soon noticed thatevery time I graded anassignment,Davidhadturnedin perfectwork.He acedmy

quizzes and tests. When Imarkedoneofhisanswersasincorrect, it was more oftenmyerrorthanhis.And,wow,he was just so hungry tolearn. In class, his attentionwas rapt. After class, he’dstay and ask, politely, forharderassignments.

I began to wonder whattheheckthiskidwasdoinginmyclass.

Once I understood howridiculousthesituationwas,I

marchedDavidintotheofficeof my department chair. Itdidn’t take long to explainwhat was going on.Fortunately, the chair was awise and wonderful teacherwhoplacedahighervalueonkids than on bureaucraticrules. She immediatelystarted the paperwork toswitchDavidoutofmyclassandintotheacceleratedtrack.

My loss was the nextteacher’s gain. Of course,

there were ups and downs,and not all of David’s mathgradeswereA’s.“AfterIleftyour class, and switched intothemoreadvancedone,Iwasa little behind,” David latertoldme. “And the next year,math—it was geometry—continuedtobehard.Ididn’tget an A. I got a B.” In thenext class, his firstmath testcamebackwithaD.

“How did you deal withthat?”Iasked.

“Ididfeelbad—Idid—butIdidn’tdwellonit.Iknewitwas done. I knew I had tofocusonwhattodonext.SoIwenttomyteacherandaskedfor help. I basically tried tofigure out, you know,what Ididwrong.What I needed tododifferently.”

Bysenioryear,Davidwastaking theharderofLowell’stwo honors calculus courses.That spring, he earned a

perfect 5 out of 5 on theAdvancedPlacementexam.

After Lowell, Davidattended SwarthmoreCollege,graduatingwithdualdegrees in engineering andeconomics. I sat with hisparents at his graduation,remembering the quietstudent in the back of myclassroom who ended upprovingthataptitudetestscangetalotofthingswrong.

Two years ago, Davidearned a PhD in mechanicalengineeringfromUCLA.Hisdissertation was on optimalperformance algorithms forthe thermodynamicprocessesin truck engines. In English:David used math to helpmake enginesmore efficient.Today, he is an engineer atthe Aerospace Corporation.Quite literally, the boy whowas deemed “not ready” forharder, fastermath classes is

nowa“rocketscientist.”During the next several

yearsofteaching,Igrewlessandlessconvincedthattalentwas destiny and more andmore intriguedby thereturnsgeneratedbyeffort. Intentonplumbing the depths of thatmystery, I eventually leftteaching to become apsychologist.

When I got to graduateschool, I learned thatpsychologists have longwondered why some peoplesucceed and others fail.Among the earliest wasFrancis Galton, who debatedthetopicwithhishalfcousin,CharlesDarwin.

By all accounts, Galtonwasachildprodigy.Byfour,he could read and write. Bysix, he knew Latin and longdivision and could recite

passages from Shakespearebyheart.Learningcameeasy.

In 1869,Galton publishedhisfirstscientificstudyontheorigins of high achievement.After assembling lists ofwell-known figures inscience, athletics, music,poetry, and law—amongother domains—he gatheredwhatever biographicalinformation he could.Outliers, Galton concluded,areremarkableinthreeways:

they demonstrate unusual“ability” in combinationwithexceptional “zeal” and “thecapacityforhardlabor.”

Afterreadingthefirstfiftypages of Galton’s book,Darwin wrote a letter to hiscousin, expressing surprisethat talentmade theshort listof essential qualities. “Youhave made a convert of anopponentinonesense,”wroteDarwin. “For I have alwaysmaintained that, excepting

fools, men did not differmuchinintellect,onlyinzealand hard work; and I stillthink this is an eminentlyimportantdifference.”

Ofcourse,Darwinhimselfwas the sortofhighachieverGalton was trying tounderstand. Widelyacknowledged as one of themost influential scientists inhistory, Darwin was the firstto explain diversity in plantand animal species as a

consequence of naturalselection. Relatedly, Darwinwas an astute observer, notonly of flora and fauna, butalsoofpeople.Inasense,hisvocation was to observeslight differences that lead,ultimately,tosurvival.

So it’s worth pausing toconsiderDarwin’sopiniononthe determinants ofachievement—that is, hisbeliefthatzealandhardwork

areultimatelymoreimportantthanintellectualability.

On the whole, Darwin’sbiographers don’t claim hepossessed supernaturalintelligence.Hewascertainlyintelligent,butinsightsdidn’tcome to him in lightningflashes.Hewas,inasense,aplodder. Darwin’s ownautobiography corroboratesthis view: “I have no greatquickness of apprehension[that] is so remarkable in

someclevermen,”headmits.“My power to follow a longand purely abstract train ofthought is very limited.” Hewould not havemade a verygood mathematician, hethinks,noraphilosopher,andhismemorywas subpar, too:“So poor in one sense ismymemory that I have neverbeen able to remember formorethanafewdaysasingledateoralineofpoetry.”

Perhaps Darwin was toohumble. But he had noproblempraisinghispowerofobservation and theassiduousness with which heapplied it to understandingthe lawsof nature: “I think Iam superior to the commonrunofmeninnoticingthingswhicheasilyescapeattention,and in observing themcarefully. My industry hasbeen nearly as great as itcould have been in the

observation and collection offacts. What is far moreimportant,myloveofnaturalscience has been steady andardent.”

One biographer describesDarwinassomeonewhokeptthinking about the samequestions long after otherswouldmoveontodifferent—and no doubt easier—problems:

Thenormalresponsetobeing puzzled aboutsomethingistosay,“I’llthink about this later,”and then, in effect,forget about it. WithDarwin, one feels thathe deliberately did notengage in this kind ofsemi-willful forgetting.He kept all thequestions alive at thebackofhismind,readyto be retrieved when a

relevant bit of datapresenteditself.

Fortyyearslater,ontheotherside of the Atlantic, aHarvard psychologist namedWilliam James took up thequestionofhowpeopledifferin their pursuit of goals.Toward the end of his longand distinguished career,Jameswrote an essay on thetopic for Science (then and

now the premier academicjournal, not just forpsychology but for all of thenaturalandsocialsciences).Itwas titled “The Energies ofMen.”

Reflecting on theachievements and failures ofclose friends and colleagues,and how the quality of hisown efforts varied on hisgood and bad days, Jamesobserved:

Compared with whatweought to be,we areonly half awake. Ourfires are damped, ourdrafts are checked.Wearemakinguseof onlya small part of ourpossible mental andphysicalresources.

There is a gap, Jamesdeclared, between potentialand itsactualization.Withoutdenying that our talents vary

—onemightbemoremusicalthan athletic or moreentrepreneurialthanartistic—James asserted that “thehuman individual livesusually far within his limits;he possesses powers ofvarious sorts which hehabitually fails to use. Heenergizes below hismaximum, and he behavesbelowhisoptimum.”

“Of course there arelimits,”Jamesacknowledged.

“Thetreesdon’tgrowintothesky.” But these outerboundariesofwherewewill,eventually, stop improvingare simply irrelevant for thevast majority of us: “Theplain fact remains that menthe world over possessamounts of resource, whichonly very exceptionalindividuals push to theirextremesofuse.”

These words, written in1907, are as true today as

ever. So, why do we placesuchemphasisontalent?Andwhy fixate on the extremelimits of what we might dowhen, in fact,most of us areat the very beginning of ourjourney,sofar,farawayfromthoseouterbounds?Andwhydo we assume that it is ourtalent, rather than our effort,thatwilldecidewhereweendupintheverylongrun?

For years, several nationalsurveyshaveasked:Whichismore important to success—talent or effort? Americansare about twice as likely tosingleouteffort.ThesameistruewhenyouaskAmericansabout athletic ability. Andwhen asked, “If you werehiringanewemployee,whichof the following qualitieswould you think is mostimportant?” Americansendorse “beinghardworking”

nearly five times as often astheyendorse“intelligence.”

The results of thesesurveys are consistent withquestionnaires thatpsychologist Chia-Jung Tsayhasgiven tomusical experts,who, when asked, reliablyendorse effortful training asmore important than naturaltalent.ButwhenChiaprobesattitudesmore indirectly, sheexposes a bias that tips in

exactlytheoppositedirection:welovenaturals.

In Chia’s experiments,professional musicians learnabout two pianists whosebiographies are identical interms of prior achievements.The subjects listen to a shortclip of these individualsplaying piano; unbeknownstto the listeners, a singlepianist is, in fact, playingdifferent parts of the samepiece.Whatvariesisthatone

pianist is described as a“natural”withearly evidenceof innate talent. The other isdescribed as a “striver” withearly evidence of highmotivation and perseverance.Indirectcontradictiontotheirstated beliefs about theimportance of effort versustalent, musicians judge thenatural to be more likely tosucceedandmorehirable.

Asafollow-upstudy,Chiatested whether this same

inconsistency would beevident in a very differentdomainwherehardworkandstriving are celebrated:entrepreneurship. Sherecruited hundreds of adultswith varying levels ofexperience in business andrandomly divided them intotwo groups. Half of herresearch subjects read theprofile of a “striver”entrepreneur, described ashaving achieved success

through hard work, effort,and experience. The otherhalf read the profile of a“natural” entrepreneur,described as having achievedsuccess through innateability. All participantslistened to the same audiorecording of a businessproposal and were told therecording was made by thespecific entrepreneur they’dreadabout.

As in her study ofmusicians, Chia found thatnaturalswereratedhigherforlikelihood of success andbeing hirable, and that theirbusiness proposals werejudgedsuperior inquality. Ina related study, Chia foundthatwhenpeoplewereforcedto choose between backingone of two entrepreneurs—oneidentifiedasastriver,theother a natural—they tendedto favor the natural. In fact,

the point of indifferencebetween a striver and anatural was only reachedwhen the striver had fourmore years of leadershipexperienceand$40,000moreinstart-upcapital.

Chia’s researchpullsbackthe curtain on ourambivalence toward talentand effort. What we say wecare about may notcorrespond with what—deepdown—weactuallybelieveto

bemorevaluable. It’s a littlelike saying we don’t care atall about physicalattractiveness in a romanticpartner and then, when itcomes to actually choosingwhom to date, picking thecuteguyovertheniceone.

The“naturalnessbias”isahidden prejudice againstthose who’ve achieved whatthey have because theyworked for it, and a hiddenpreference for those whom

wethinkarrivedattheirplacein life because they’renaturally talented. We maynot admit to others this biasfornaturals;wemaynotevenadmit it toourselves.But thebias is evident in the choiceswemake.

Chia’s own life is aninteresting example of thenatural versus striverphenomenon. Now a

professor at UniversityCollege London, shepublishes her scholarly workin the most prestigious ofacademicjournals.Asachild,she attended classes atJuilliard, whose pre-collegeprogram invites students“who exhibit the talent,potential, andaccomplishment to pursue acareer in music” toexperience “an atmosphere

where artistic gifts andtechnicalskillscanflourish.”

ChiaholdsseveraldegreesfromHarvard.Herfirstwasabachelor’s degree inpsychology; she graduatedmagna cum laude withhighest honors. She also hastwomaster’s degrees: one inthehistoryofscienceandtheother in social psychology.And, finally, whilecompleting her PhD inorganizational behavior and

psychology at Harvard, shealso picked up a secondaryPhDinmusic.

Impressed? If not, let meaddthatChiaalsohasdegreesfrom the PeabodyConservatory in pianoperformanceandpedagogy—and yes, she’s performed atCarnegieHall,nottomentionLincolnCenter, theKennedyCenter, and at the palacerecital commemorating the

presidency of the EuropeanUnion.

If you only saw hercredentials,youmightleaptothe conclusion that Chiawasbornmoregiftedthananyoneyouknow:“Mygod!Whatanextraordinarily talentedyoung woman!” And, ifChia’s research is right, thatexplanation would embellishher accomplishments withmore luster, more mystery,and more awe than the

alternative: “My god! Whatan extraordinarily dedicated,hardworkingyoungwoman!”

And then what wouldhappen? There’s a vastamount of research on whathappens when we believe astudent is especially talented.We begin to lavish extraattention on them and holdthem to higher expectations.Weexpectthemtoexcel,andthat expectation becomes aself-fulfillingprophecy.

I’ve asked Chia what shemakes of her own musicalaccomplishments. “Well, Iguess I may have sometalent,” Chia said. “But Ithink,morethanthat,I lovedmusic so much I practicedfour to six hours a day allthroughout childhood.” Andin college, despite apunishingscheduleofclassesand activities, shemade timeto practice almost as much.

So, yes, she has some talent—butshe’sastriver,too.

Why did Chia practice somuch? I wondered. Was itforced on her? Did she haveanychoiceinthematter?

“Oh, it was me. It waswhat I wanted. I wanted toget better and better andbetter. When I practicedpiano, I pictured myselfonstageinfrontofacrowdedaudience. I imagined themclapping.”

Theyear I leftMcKinsey forteaching, three of the firm’spartners published a reportcalled“TheWar for Talent.”The report was widely readandeventuallybecameabest-selling book. The basicargumentwasthatcompaniesin the modern economy riseand fall depending on theirabilitytoattractandretain“Aplayers.”

“What do we mean bytalent?” the McKinseyauthors ask in the book’sopening pages. Answeringtheir own question: “In themost general sense, talent isthesumofaperson’sabilities—his or her intrinsic gifts,skills,knowledge,experience,intelligence, judgment,attitude, character, and drive.It also includes his or herability to learn and grow.”That’s a long list, and it

reveals the struggle most ofushavewhenwetrytodefinetalentwithanyprecision.Butit doesn’t surprise me that“intrinsic gifts” arementionedfirst.

When Fortune magazineput McKinsey on its cover,theleadarticlebegan:“Whenin the presence of a youngMcKinsey partner, one getsthedistinct impression that ifplied with a cocktail or two,hemightwell leanacross the

table and suggest somethingawkward, like comparingSAT scores.” It’s almostimpossible, the journalistobserved, to overestimate“the premium placed withinthe McKinsey culture onanalytic ability, or as itsdenizens say, on being‘bright.’ ”

McKinsey is famous forrecruiting and rewardingsmart men and women—somewithMBAsfromplaces

like Harvard and Stanford,and the rest, like me, whopossesssomeothercredentialthat suggests we must haveverybigbrains.

My interviews withMcKinsey unfolded as mostdo, with a series ofbrainteasers designed to testmy analytic mettle. Oneinterviewer satme down andintroduced himself, thenasked: “How many tennis

balls aremanufactured in theUnitedStatesperyear?”

“I guess there are twoways to approach thatquestion,” I responded. “Thefirst way is to find the rightperson, or maybe tradeorganization,totellyou.”Myinterviewer nodded, but gavemealookthatsaidhewantedtheotherkindofanswer.

“Or you could take somebasic assumptions and do

somemultiplying to figure itout.”

My interviewer smiledbroadly. So I gave himwhathewanted.

“Okay, assume there areabout two hundred fiftymillion people in the UnitedStates. Let’s say the mostactive tennis players arebetween the age of ten andthirty. That’s got to be,roughly speaking, one-fourthofthepopulation.Iguessthat

gives you a little over sixtymillion potential tennisplayers.”

Now my interviewer wasreallyexcited.Icontinuedthelogic game, multiplying anddividing by numbersaccording to my completelyuninformed estimates of howmany people actually playtennis, and how often theyplay on average, and howmanyballstheywoulduseina game, and then how often

they would need to replacedeadorlostones.

I got to some number,which was probably wildlyoff, because at every step Iwas making anotheruninformed assumption thatwas, to some degree oranother, incorrect. Finally, Isaid: “The math here isn’tthathardforme.I’mtutoringa little girl who is practicingher fractions right now, andwe do a lot of mental math

together. But if you want toknowwhat I’d really do if Ineededtoknowtheanswertothatquestion,I’lltellyou:I’djust call someone whoactuallyknows.”

Moresmiling,andthenanassurance that he’d learnedall he needed to from ourinteraction.Andalsofrommyapplication—including mySATscores,whichMcKinseyheavily relies on to do theirearlysortingofcandidates.In

other words, if the advice tocorporateAmericaistocreatea culture that values talentabove all else, McKinseypracticeswhatitpreaches.

Once I accepted the offer tojoin the New York Cityoffice,Iwastoldthatmyfirstmonth would be spent in afancy hotel in Clearwater,Florida. There I joined aboutthree dozen other new hires

who, like me, lacked anytraining in business. Instead,each of us had earned someother academic badge ofhonor.Isatnexttoaguywitha PhD in physics, forexample. On my other sidewasasurgeon,andbehindmeweretwolawyers.

None of us knew muchaboutmanagementingeneral,or about any industry inparticular.Butthatwasabouttochange: ina singlemonth,

we would complete a crashcourse called the “mini-MBA.” Since we were allvetted to be superfastlearners, there was noquestion that we wouldsuccessfullymasteramassiveamount of information in averyshortamountoftime.

Newly equipped with acasualacquaintancewithcashflow, the difference betweenrevenueandprofit, and someother rudimentaryfactsabout

whatInowknewtocall“theprivate sector,” we wereshippedoff toourdesignatedoffices around the world,wherewewouldjointeamsofother consultants and bematched up with corporateclients to solve whateverproblemstheythrewourway.

I soon learned thatMcKinsey’s basic businessproposition isstraightforward. For a verylarge sum of money per

month, companies can hire aMcKinsey team to solveproblems too thorny to besolved by the folks who arealreadyworking on them.Attheendofthis“engagement,”as it was called in the firm,weweresupposedtoproduceareportthatwasdramaticallymoreinsightfulthananythingtheycouldhavegeneratedin-house.

Itoccurredtome,asIwasputting together slides

summarizing bold, sweepingrecommendations for amultibillion-dollar medicalproducts conglomerate, that,really, I had no idea what Iwastalkingabout.Thereweresenior consultants on theteam who may have knownmore, but there were alsomore junior consultantswho,having just graduated fromcollege, surely knew evenless.

Whyhireus, then,atsuchan exorbitant cost?Well, forone thing, we had theadvantage of an outsider’sperspective untainted byinsiderpolitics.Wealsohadamethod for solving businessproblems thatwashypothesisand data driven. There wereprobablylotsofgoodreasonsCEOs brought in McKinsey.Butamongthem,Ithink,wasthat wewere supposed to besharper than the people who

were already on-site. HiringMcKinsey meant hiring thevery“bestandbrightest”—asif being the brightest alsomadeusthebest.

According to The War forTalent, the companies thatexcel are those thataggressively promote themost talented employeeswhile just as aggressivelyculling the least talented. In

such companies, hugedisparities in salary are notonly justified but desirable.Why?Becauseacompetitive,winner-take-all environmentencourages themost talentedto stick around and the leasttalented to find alternativeemployment.

Duff McDonald, thejournalist who’s done themost in-depth research onMcKinsey to date, hassuggested that this particular

businessphilosophywouldbemoreaptly titledTheWaronCommon Sense. McDonaldpointsoutthat thecompanieshighlighted in the originalMcKinsey report asexemplars of their endorsedstrategy didn’t do so well intheyearsafterthatreportwaspublished.

Journalist MalcolmGladwell has also critiquedthe The War for Talent.Enron, he points out,

epitomized the “talentmindset” approach tomanagement advocated byMcKinsey. As we all know,the Enron story doesn’t haveahappyending.Onceoneofthe largest energy tradingcompanies in the world,Enron was named America’sMostInnovativeCompanybyFortune magazine six yearsin a row.Yet, by the end of2001,whenthebusinessfiledforbankruptcy,ithadbecome

clear that the company’sextraordinary profits wereattributable to massive andsystematic accounting fraud.When Enron collapsed,thousands of its employees,whohadnohandatallinthewrongdoing, lost their jobs,health insurance, andretirement savings. At thetime, it was the largestcorporate bankruptcy in U.S.history.

Youcan’tblametheEnrondebacle on a surfeit of IQpoints.Youcan’tblameitona lack of grit, either. ButGladwellarguesconvincinglythat demanding Enronemployees prove that theywere smarter than everyoneelse inadvertentlycontributedto a narcissistic culture,withan overrepresentation ofemployees who were bothincredibly smug and drivenby deep insecurity to keep

showingoff. Itwas a culturethat encouraged short-termperformance but discouragedlong-term learning andgrowth.

The same point comesthrough in the postmortemdocumentaryonEnroncalled,appropriately enough, TheSmartest Guys in the Room.During the company’sascendency, it was a brashand brilliant formerMcKinsey consultant named

Jeff Skilling who wasEnron’s CEO. Skillingdeveloped a performancereviewsystemforEnron thatconsisted of gradingemployees annually andsummarily firing the bottom15percent.Inotherwords,nomatter what your absolutelevel of performance, if youwereweak,relativetoothers,you got fired. Inside Enron,this practice was known as“rank-and-yank.” Skilling

considered itoneof themostimportant strategies hiscompanyhad.Butultimately,it may have contributed to awork environment thatrewarded deception anddiscouragedintegrity.

Is talentabad thing?Areweall equally talented? No andno. The ability to quicklyclimb the learning curve ofany skill is obviously a very

goodthing,and,likeitornot,someofusarebetteratitthanothers.

Sowhy, then, is it such abad thing to favor “naturals”over “strivers”? What’s thedownsideoftelevisionshowslike America’s Got Talent,The X Factor, and ChildGenius? Why shouldn’t weseparatechildrenasyoungasseven or eight into twogroups: those few childrenwhoare“giftedandtalented”

and the many, many morewho aren’t? What harm isthere, really, ina talentshowbeingnameda“talentshow”?

In my view, the biggestreason a preoccupation withtalent can be harmful issimple: By shining ourspotlight on talent, we riskleavingeverythingelseintheshadows. We inadvertentlysend the message that theseother factors—including grit

—don’t matter as much astheyreallydo.

Consider,forexample,thestory of Scott BarryKaufman. Scott’s office isjust two doors down frommine, and he’s a lot like theother academic psychologistsI know: He spends most ofhis waking hours reading,thinking, collecting data,doing statistics, and writing.He publishes his research inscientific journals.He knows

a lot of polysyllabic words.He has degrees fromCarnegie Mellon, CambridgeUniversity, and Yale. Heplaysthecelloforfun.

But as a child, Scott wasconsidered a slow learner—whichwas true. “Basically, Igotalotofearinfectionsasakid,” Scott explains. “Andthat led to this problemwithprocessing information fromsound in real time. I wasalways a step or two behind

the other kids in my class.”So halting was his academicprogress, in fact, that hewasplaced in special educationclasses. He repeated thirdgrade.Aroundthesametime,he met with a schoolpsychologist to take an IQtest. Inananxiety-ridden testsession he describes as“harrowing,”Scottperformedsopoorlythathewassenttoaspecial school for childrenwithlearningdisabilities.

It was not until agefourteen that an observantspecialeducationteachertookScottasideandaskedwhyhewasn’t in more challengingclasses.Until then, Scott hadnever questioned hisintellectual status. Instead,he’dassumedthathis lackoftalent would put a very lowceiling on what he might dowithhislife.

Meeting a teacher whobelievedinhispotentialwasa

critical turning point: a pivotfromThisisallyoucandotoWhoknowswhatyoucando?Atthatmoment,Scottstartedwondering, for the very firsttime: Who am I? Am I alearningdisabledkidwithnoreal future? Or maybesomethingelse?

And then, to find out,Scottsignedupforjustaboutevery challenge his schoolhad tooffer.Latinclass.Theschool musical. Choir. He

didn’t necessarily excel ineverything,buthe learned inall.WhatScottlearnedisthathewasn’thopeless.

Something that Scottfound he did learn fairlyeasily was the cello. Hisgrandfatherhadbeenacellistin the PhiladelphiaOrchestrafor nearly fifty years, andScott had the idea that hisgrandfather could give himlessons. He did, and thesummerthatScottfirstpicked

up the cello, he beganpracticingeightorninehoursa day. He was fiercelydetermined to improve, andnot only because he enjoyedthecello:“Iwassodriven tojust show someone, anyone,that I was intellectuallycapable of anything. At thispoint Ididn’tevencarewhatitwas.”

Improvehedid,andbythefall, he earned a seat in hishigh school orchestra. If the

storyendedthereandthen, itmight not be about grit. Buthere’s what happened next.Scott kept up—and evenincreased—hispracticing.Heskipped lunch to practice.Sometimesheskippedclassestopractice.Bysenioryear,hewassecondchair—hewasthesecond-best cellist in theorchestra—andhewas in thechoir, too, and winning allkinds of awards from themusicdepartment.

Healso starteddoingwellinhisclasses,manyofwhichwere now honors classes.Almostallofhisfriendswerein the gifted and talentedprogram,andScottwantedtojoin them.Hewanted to talkabout Plato and do mentalpuzzles and learn more thanhe was already learning. Ofcourse, with his IQ scoresfromchildhood,therewasnosuch possibility. Heremembers the school

psychologist drawing a bell-shapedcurveonthebackofanapkin and pointing to itspeak—“This is average”—then moving to the right—“This iswhere you’d haveto be for gifted and talentedclasses”—andthenmovingtothe left—“And this is whereyouare.”

“At what point,” Scottasked, “does achievementtrumppotential?”

The school psychologistshook his head and showedScottthedoor.

Thatfall,Scottdecidedhewanted to study this thingcalled “intelligence” andcometohisownconclusions.He applied to the cognitivescience program at CarnegieMellon University. And hewas rejected. The rejectionletterdidnot specifywhy,ofcourse, but given his stellargrades and extracurricular

accomplishments,Scottcouldonly conclude that theimpedimentwashislowSATscores.

“I had this grit,” Scottrecalls.“Isaid, ‘I’mgoing todo it. I don’t care. I’mgoingtofindawaytostudywhatIwant to study.’ ” And thenScottauditionedforCarnegieMellon’s opera program.Why? Because the operaprogram didn’t look veryhard atSAT scores, focusing

instead on musical aptitudeand expression. In his firstyear,Scotttookapsychologycourse as an elective. Soonafter,headdedpsychologyasaminor.Next, he transferredhis major from opera topsychology. And then hegraduatedPhiBetaKappa.

Like Scott, I took an IQ testearly in my schooling andwas deemed insufficiently

bright to benefit from giftedand talented classes. Forwhatever reason—maybe ateacher asked that I beretested—I was evaluatedagain thefollowingyear,andI made the cut. I guess youcould say I was borderlinegifted.

Onewaytointerpret thesestories is that talent is great,but tests of talent stink.There’scertainlyanargumenttobemadethattestsoftalent

—and tests of anything elsepsychologists study,including grit—are highlyimperfect.

But another conclusion isthat the focus on talentdistracts us from somethingthat is at least as important,and that is effort. In thenextchapter, I’ll argue that, asmuch as talent counts, effortcountstwice.

Chapter3

EFFORTCOUNTSTWICE

NotadaygoesbythatIdon’tread or hear theword talent.In every section of thenewspaper—from the sportspage to the business section,from profiles of actors andmusicians in the weekendsupplement, to front-pagestories of rising stars inpolitics—allusions to talentabound. It seems that whenanyone accomplishes a featworthwriting about,we rushto anoint that individual as

extraordinarily“talented.”If we overemphasize

talent, we underemphasizeeverything else. In theextreme,it’sasif,deepdown,we hold the following to betrue:

For instance, I recentlylistened to a radiocommentator draw a

comparison between HillaryandBillClinton.Heobservedthat both are unusually goodcommunicators. But whileher husband, Bill, is a giftedpolitician, Hillary has tocontort herself into the role.Bill is a natural; Hillarymerely a striver. The unsaidbut obvious implication is

that she’ll never quite be hisequal.

I’ve caught myself doingit,too.Whensomeonereally,really impresses me, I mightreflexively say to myself:Whatagenius!Ishouldknowbetter. I do. Sowhat’s goingon? Why does anunconscious bias towardtalentpersist?

A few years ago, I read astudy of competitiveswimmers titled “TheMundanity of Excellence.”The title of the articleencapsulates its majorconclusion:themostdazzlinghuman achievements are, infact, the aggregate ofcountlessindividualelements,each ofwhich is, in a sense,ordinary.

Dan Chambliss, thesociologist who completed

the study, observed:“Superlative performance isreallyaconfluenceofdozensof small skills or activities,eachonelearnedorstumbledupon, which have beencarefully drilled into habitandthenarefittedtogetherinasynthesizedwhole.Thereisnothing extraordinary orsuperhuman in any one ofthose actions; only the factthat they are doneconsistently and correctly,

and all together, produceexcellence.”

But mundanity is a hardsell. When finishing up hisanalyses, Dan shared a fewchapters with a colleague.“Youneed to jazz it up,”hisfriend said. “You need tomake these people moreinteresting....”

When I called Dan toprobe a few of hisobservations, I learned thathe’d become fascinated with

the idea of talent—and whatwe really mean by it—as aswimmer himself and, forseveral years afterward, as apart-time coach. As a youngassistant professor, Dandecided to do an in-depth,qualitative study ofswimmers. In total, Dandevoted six years tointerviewing, watching, andsometimes living andtravelingwith swimmers andcoaches at all levels—from

thelocalswimclubtoaneliteteam made up of futureOlympians.

“Talent,” he observed, “isperhaps the most pervasivelay explanation we have forathletic success.” It is as iftalent were some invisible“substancebehindthesurfacerealityofperformance,whichfinally distinguishes the bestamong our athletes.” Andthese great athletes seemblessed “with a special gift,

almost a ‘thing’ inside ofthem,deniedtotherestofus—perhaps physical, genetic,psychological, orphysiological.Somehave‘it,’and some don’t. Some are‘natural athletes,’ and somearen’t.”

I think Dan is exactlyright.Ifwecan’texplainhowan athlete, musician, oranyone else has donesomething jaw-droppinglyamazing, we’re inclined to

throw up our hands and say,“It’sagift!Nobodycanteachyou that.” In other words,whenwecan’teasilyseehowexperience and training gotsomeone to a level ofexcellence that is so clearlybeyond the norm,we defaultto labeling that person a“natural.”

Dan points out that thebiographies of greatswimmersrevealmany,manyfactorsthatcontributetotheir

ultimate success. Forinstance, the mostaccomplished swimmersalmost invariablyhadparentswho were interested in thesport and earned enoughmoney to pay for coaching,traveltoswimmeets,andnotthe least important: access toa pool. And, crucially, therewere the thousands of hoursof practice in the pool overyears and years—all spentrefining the many individual

elementswhose sumcreateasingleflawlessperformance.

Though it seemswrong toassume that talent is acomplete explanation fordazzling performance, it’salso understandable. “It’seasy to do,” Dan explained,“especially if one’s onlyexposure to top athletescomes once every four yearswhilewatching theOlympicson television, or if one onlysees them in performances

rather than in day-to-daytraining.”

Anotherpointhemakes isthat the minimal talentneeded to succeed inswimmingislowerthanmostofusthink.

“Idon’tthinkyoumeantosay that any of us could beMichael Phelps,” I said. “Doyou?”

“No, of course not,” Danreplied.“Tobeginwith,thereare certain anatomical

advantages that you reallycan’ttrainfor.”

“And,” I continued,“wouldn’t you say that someswimmersimprovemorethanothers, even if they’re tryingequally hard and getting thesamecoaching?”

“Yes,butthemainthingisthat greatness is doable.Greatness is many, manyindividual feats, and each ofthemisdoable.”

Dan’s point is that if youhad a time-lapse film of thehours and days and weeksand years that producedexcellence, you could seewhathesaw:thatahighlevelofperformance is, in fact, anaccretion of mundane acts.But does the incrementalmastery of mundaneindividual componentsexplain everything? Iwondered.Isthatallthereis?

“Well,wealllovemysteryand magic,” he said. “I do,too.”

Then Dan told me aboutthe day he got to watchRowdy Gaines and MarkSpitz swim laps. “Spitz wonsevengoldmedals in the ’72Olympics and was the bigthingbeforeMichaelPhelps,”heexplained. “In ’84, twelveyears after retirement, Spitzshowed up. He’s in hismid-thirties.And he gets into the

water with Rowdy Gaines,who at that time held theworld record in the onehundred free. They did somefifties—in other words, twolengths of the pool, justsprints, like little races.Gaineswonmostofthem,butby the time they werehalfway through, the entireteamwasstandingaroundtheedgeofthepooljusttowatchSpitzswim.”

Everyoneon the teamhadbeen training with Gaines,and they knew how good hewas. They knew he wasfavoredtowinOlympicgold.But because of the age gap,nobodyhadswumwithSpitz.

One swimmer turned toDan and said, pointing toSpitz,“Mygod.He’safish.”

IcouldhearthewonderinDan’s voice. Even a studentof mundanity, it seems, iseasily lulled into talent

explanations. Ipressedhimabit.Was that sort ofmajesticperformance somethingdivine?

Dan told me to go readNietzsche.

Nietzsche? Thephilosopher? What would anineteenth-century Germanphilosopher have to say thatmightexplainMarkSpitz?Asit turns out, Nietzsche, too,had thought long and hardaboutthesamequestions.

“With everything perfect,”Nietzsche wrote, “we do notask how it came to be.”Instead, “we rejoice in thepresentfactasthoughitcameoutofthegroundbymagic.”

WhenIreadthatpassage,Ithought of the youngswimmerswatchingtheiriconSpitzexhibitformthatalmostdidn’tseemhuman.

“No one can see in thework of the artist how it has

become,” Nietzsche said.“That is its advantage, forwhereverone can see the actof becoming one growssomewhat cool.” In otherwords, we want to believethat Mark Spitz was born toswiminawaythatnoneofuswere and that none of uscould. We don’t want to siton the pool deck and watchhimprogressfromamateurtoexpert. We prefer our

excellence fully formed. Weprefermysterytomundanity.

But why? What’s thereason for fooling ourselvesinto thinking Mark Spitzdidn’tearnhismastery?

“Ourvanity,ourself-love,promotes the cult of thegenius,”Nietzsche said. “Forif we think of genius assomething magical, we arenot obliged to compareourselves and find ourselveslacking. . . .Tocallsomeone

‘divine’means:‘herethereisnoneedtocompete.’ ”

In other words,mythologizing natural talentletsusalloffthehook.Itletsus relax into the status quo.That’s what undoubtedlyoccurred inmyearlydaysofteaching when I mistakenlyequated talent andachievement, and by doingso, removed effort—bothmystudents’ andmyown—fromfurtherconsideration.

So what is the reality ofgreatness?Nietzschecame tothe same conclusion DanChambliss did. Great thingsare accomplished by those“people whose thinking isactive in one direction, whoemploy everything asmaterial, who alwayszealously observe their owninner life and that of others,who perceive everywheremodels and incentives, whonever tire of combining

together the means availabletothem.”

And what about talent?Nietzsche implored us toconsider exemplars to be,aboveallelse,craftsmen:“Donot talk about giftedness,inborntalents!Onecannamegreat men of all kinds whowere very little gifted. Theyacquired greatness, became‘geniuses’ (asweput it). . . .They all possessed thatseriousness of the efficient

workmanwhichfirstlearnstoconstruct the parts properlybeforeitventurestofashionagreat whole; they allowedthemselves time for it,because they took morepleasure inmaking the little,secondarythingswell thaninthe effect of a dazzlingwhole.”

In my second year ofgraduateschool,Isatdownto

a weekly meeting with myadvisor, Marty Seligman. Iwas more than a littlenervous.Martyhasthateffecton people, especially hisstudents.

Then in his sixties,Martyhad won just about everyaccolade psychology has tooffer. His early research ledto an unprecedentedunderstanding of clinicaldepression.More recently, aspresident of the American

PsychologicalAssociation,hechristened the field ofPositive Psychology, adiscipline that applies thescientificmethodtoquestionsofhumanflourishing.

Marty is barrel-chestedand baritone-voiced.Hemaystudy happiness and well-being, but cheerful is not awordI’dusetodescribehim.

In themiddle ofwhateveritwasIwassaying—areportonwhat I’d done in the past

week, I suppose, or the nextsteps in one of our researchstudies—Marty interrupted.“Youhaven’thadagoodideaintwoyears.”

I stared at him,openmouthed, trying toprocess what he’d just said.ThenIblinked.Twoyears?Ihadn’t even been in graduateschoolfortwoyears!Silence.Thenhe crossedhis arms,

frowned, and said: “You can

do all kinds of fancystatistics. You somehow getevery parent in a school toreturn their consent form.You’vemadeafewinsightfulobservations. But you don’thave a theory. You don’thave a theory for thepsychologyofachievement.”Silence.“What’s a theory?” I

finally asked, havingabsolutelynoclueas towhathewastalkingabout.

Silence.“Stopreadingsomuchand

gothink.”I left his office,went into

mine, and cried. At homewith my husband, I criedmore. I cursed Marty undermybreath—andaloudaswell—forbeingsuchajerk.WhywashetellingmewhatIwasdoingwrong?Whywasn’thepraising me for what I wasdoingright?

You don’t have atheory....

Those words rattledaround inmymind for days.Finally, I dried my tears,stopped my cursing, and satdown at my computer. Iopened the word processorand stared at the blinkingcursor, realizing I hadn’tgotten far beyond the basicobservation that talent wasnotenoughtosucceedinlife.I hadn’t worked out how,

exactly, talent and effort andskill and achievement all fittogether.

Atheoryisanexplanation.Atheory takes a blizzard offacts and observations andexplains, in the most basicterms,whattheheckisgoingon. By necessity, a theory isincomplete. It oversimplifies.But in doing so, it helps usunderstand.

If talent falls short ofexplaining achievement,what’smissing?

I have beenworking on atheory of the psychology ofachievement since Martyscolded me for not havingone. I have pages and pagesofdiagrams,fillingmorethana dozen lab notebooks.Aftermore than a decade ofthinking about it, sometimesalone, and sometimes inpartnership with close

colleagues,IfinallypublishedanarticleinwhichIlaydowntwo simple equations thatexplain how you get fromtalenttoachievement.

Heretheyare:

Talentishowquicklyyourskills improve when youinvest effort. Achievement is

what happenswhen you takeyour acquired skills and usethem. Of course, youropportunities—for example,having a great coach orteacher—mattertremendously,too,andmaybemorethananythingabouttheindividual.Mytheorydoesn’taddress these outside forces,nor does it include luck. It’sabout the psychology ofachievement, but because

psychology isn’t all thatmatters,it’sincomplete.

Still, I think it’s useful.What this theory says is thatwhen you considerindividuals in identicalcircumstances, what eachachievesdependson just twothings, talent and effort.Talent—howfastweimprovein skill—absolutely matters.But effort factors into thecalculations twice, not once.Effortbuildsskill.Atthevery

same time, effortmakes skillproductive.Letmegiveyouafewexamples.

There’s a celebrated potternamed Warren MacKenziewholivesinMinnesota.Nowninety-two years old, he hasbeen at his craft, withoutinterruption, for nearly hisentire adult life.Earlyon,heand his late wife, also anartist, tried a lot of different

things: “You know, whenyou’re young, you think youcan do anything, and wethought, oh,we’ll be potters,we’ll be painters, we’ll betextile designers, we’ll bejewelers, we’ll be a little ofthis, a littleof that.Weweregoing to be the renaissancepeople.”

It soon became clear thatdoing one thing better andbetter might be moresatisfying than staying an

amateur at many differentthings:“Eventuallybothofusgave up the drawing andpainting, gave up the silk-screening,gaveup the textiledesign, and concentrated onceramic work, because thatwas where we felt our trueinterestlay.”

MacKenzie told me “agoodpottercanmakefortyorfifty pots in a day.” Out ofthese, “some of them aregood and some of them are

mediocre and some of themare bad.”Only a fewwill beworth selling, and of those,even fewer “will continue toengage the senses after dailyuse.”

Ofcourse, it’snot just thenumber of good potsMacKenzie makes that hasbrought the art world to hisdoor.It’sthebeautyandformof the pots: “I’m striving tomake things which are themost exciting things I can

make thatwill fit inpeople’shomes.” Still, as asimplification,youmight saythatthenumberofenduringlybeautiful, exquisitely usefulpots MacKenzie is able toproduce,intotal,willbewhathe accomplishes as an artist.Itwouldnotsatisfyhimtobeamong the most masterfulpottersbutonlyproduce,say,one or two pieces in hislifetime.

MacKenzie still throwsclay on thewheel every day,and with effort his skill hasimproved: “I think back tosome of the pots we madewhen we first started ourpottery, and theywere prettyawfulpots.Wethoughtatthetime they were good; theywerethebestwecouldmake,but our thinking was soelemental that the pots hadthat quality also, and so theydon’t have a richness about

themwhich I look for inmyworktoday.”

“The first 10,000 pots aredifficult,” he has said, “andthenitgetsalittlebiteasier.”

As things got easier, andas MacKenzie improved, heproduced more good pots aday:

talentxeffort=skill

At the same time, thenumber of good pots he’sbrought into the worldincreased:

skillxeffort=achievement

With effort, MacKenziehasgottenbetterandbetteratmaking “the most excitingthingsIcanmakethatwillfitin people’s homes.” At the

same time, with the sameinvested effort, he hasbecomemoreaccomplished.

“Garp was a naturalstoryteller.”

This is a line from JohnIrving’s fourth novel, TheWorld According to Garp.Like that novel’s fictionalprotagonist, Irving tells agreat story. He has beenlauded as “the great

storyteller of Americanliterature today.” To date,he’s written more than adozen novels,most ofwhichhave been best sellers andhalfofwhichhavebeenmadeinto movies. The WorldAccording to Garp won theNational Book Award, andIrving’s screenplay for TheCider House Rules won anAcademyAward.

But unlike Garp, Irvingwasnotanatural.WhileGarp

“could make things up, onerightaftertheother,andtheyseemedtofit,”Irvingrewritesdraftafterdraftofhisnovels.Of his early attempts atwriting, Irving has said,“Most of all, I rewroteeverything...Ibegantotakemylackoftalentseriously.”

IrvingrecallsearningaC–in high school English. HisSATverbalscorewas475outof 800, which means almosttwo-thirds of the students

who took theSATdid betterthan him. He needed to stayin high school an extra yearto have enough credits tograduate. Irving recalls thathis teachers thought he wasboth“lazy”and“stupid.”

Irvingwasneitherlazynorstupid. But he was severelydyslexic: “I was anunderdog. . . . If myclassmates could read ourhistoryassignmentinanhour,Iallowedmyselftwoorthree.

If I couldn’t learn to spell, Iwouldkeepalistofmymostfrequentlymisspelledwords.”When his own son wasdiagnosed with dyslexia,Irvingfinallyunderstoodwhyhe, himself, had been such apoor student. Irving’s sonread noticeably slower thanhis classmates, “with hisfinger following the sentence—as I read, as I still read.Unless I’ve written it, I read

whatever‘it’isveryslowly—andwithmyfinger.”

Since reading and writingdidn’t come easily, Irvinglearned that “to do anythingreally well, you have tooverextend yourself. . . . Inmy case, I learned that I justhad to pay twice as muchattention.Icametoappreciatethat in doing something overand over again, somethingthat was never naturalbecomes almost second

nature. You learn that youhavethecapacityforthat,andthat it doesn’t comeovernight.”

Do the precociouslytalentedlearnthatlesson?Dothey discover that thecapacitytodosomethingoverandoveragain,tostruggle,tohave patience, can bemastered—butnotovernight?

Some might. But thosewhostruggleearlymay learnit better: “One reason I have

confidenceinwritingthekindofnovelsIwrite,”Irvingsaid,“is that I have confidence inmy stamina to go oversomethingagainandagainnomatter how difficult it is.”After his tenth novel, Irvingobserved,“Rewriting iswhatIdobest as awriter. I spendmoretimerevisinganovelorscreenplaythanItaketowritethefirstdraft.”

“It’s become anadvantage,” Irving has

observed of his inability toread and spell as fluently asothers.“Inwritinganovel, itdoesn’thurtanybody tohaveto go slowly. It doesn’t hurtanyoneasawriter tohave togo over something again andagain.”

With daily effort, Irvingbecame one of the mostmasterful and prolificwritersin history. With effort, hebecame a master, and witheffort, his mastery produced

stories that have touchedmillions of people, includingme.

Grammy Award–winningmusician and Oscar-nominated actor Will Smithhasthoughtalotabouttalent,effort,skill,andachievement.“I’ve never really viewedmyself as particularlytalented,” he once observed.

“Where I excel is ridiculous,sickeningworkethic.”

Accomplishment,inWill’seyes, is very much aboutgoing the distance. Asked toexplainhisascendancytotheentertainmentelite,Willsaid:

The only thing that Isee that is distinctlydifferent about me is:I’mnotafraidtodieonatreadmill.Iwillnotbeoutworked,period.You

might havemore talentthan me, you might besmarter than me, youmight be sexier thanme.Youmightbeallofthosethings.Yougotiton me in ninecategories. But if weget on the treadmilltogether, there’s twothings: You’re gettingofffirst,orI’mgoingtodie. It’s really thatsimple.

In 1940, researchers atHarvard University had thesame idea. In a studydesigned to understand the“characteristics of healthyyoungmen”inorderto“helppeople live happier, moresuccessful lives,” 130sophomores were asked torun on a treadmill for up tofive minutes. The treadmillwas set at sucha steepangleandcrankeduptosuchafastspeed that the average man

heldonforonlyfourminutes.Somelastedforonlyaminuteandahalf.

By design, the TreadmillTestwasexhausting.Notjustphysically but mentally. Bymeasuringand thenadjustingfor baseline physical fitness,the researchers designed theTreadmill Test to gauge“stamina and strength ofwill.” In particular, Harvardresearchersknewthatrunninghard was not just a function

of aerobic capacity andmuscle strength but also theextent to which “a subject iswillingtopushhimselforhasa tendency to quit before thepunishment becomes toosevere.”

Decades later, apsychiatrist named GeorgeVaillant followed up on theyoung men in the originalTreadmillTest.Then in theirsixties, these men had beencontacted by researchers

every two years sincegraduating from college, andfor each there was acorresponding file folder atHarvard literally burstingwith questionnaires,correspondence, and notesfromin-depthinterviews.Forinstance, researchers notedfor each man his income,career advancement, sickdays, social activities, self-reported satisfaction withwork and marriage, visits to

psychiatrists, and use ofmood-altering drugs liketranquilizers. All thisinformation went intocomposite estimates of themen’s overall psychologicaladjustmentinadulthood.

Itturnsoutthatruntimeinthe Treadmill Test at agetwenty was a surprisinglyreliable predictor ofpsychological adjustmentthroughoutadulthood.Georgeand his team considered that

staying on the treadmill wasalso a function of howphysicallyfit thesemenwerein their youth, and that thisfindingmerely indicated thatphysicalhealthpredictedlaterpsychological well-being.However, they found thatadjusting for baselinephysical fitness “had littleeffect on the correlation ofrunning time with mentalhealth.”

Inotherwords,WillSmithis on to something. When itcomes to howwe fare in themarathonoflife,effortcountstremendously.

“How long would youhave stayed on thetreadmill?” I asked Georgerecently. I wanted to knowbecause, inmy eyes, Georgeis himself a paragon of grit.Early in his career, not longaftercompletinghisresidencyin psychiatry, George

discoveredthetreadmilldata,along with all the otherinformation on the mencollectedtothatpoint.Likeabaton, the study had beenhanded from one researchteam to another, withdwindling interest andenergy.Untilitgottohim.

George revived the study.Hereestablishedcontactwiththe men by mail and phoneand, in addition, interviewedeach in person, traveling to

allcornersoftheworldtodoso. Now in his eighties,George has outlived most ofthemenintheoriginalstudy.He is currently writing hisfourth book on what is bynow the longest continuousstudy of human developmenteverundertaken.

In answer to my questionabout his own treadmillperseverance,Georgereplied,“Oh, I’m not all thatpersistent. When I do

crossword puzzles on theairplane, I always lookat theanswerswhenIamalittlebitfrustrated.”

So,notverygrittywhenitcomestocrosswordpuzzles.

“And when something isbroken in thehouse, I turn itovertomywife,andshefixesit.”

“Soyoudon’tthinkyou’regritty?”Iasked.

“The reason why theHarvardstudyworksis thatI

havebeendoingitconstantlyand persistently. It’s the oneball I’ve kept my eye on.Because I’m totallyfascinated by it. There isnothingmore interesting thanwatchingpeoplegrow.”

And then, after a shortpause, George recalled hisdaysatprepschool,where,asa varsity track athlete, hecompetedinpolevaulting.Toimprove, he and the othervaulters did pull-ups, which

hecalls“chins,”becauseyoustartbyhangingoffabarandthenpullyourselfuptowhereyour chin hovers just above,then you drop down again,andrepeat.

“I could do more chinsthan anyone. And it wasn’tbecauseIwasveryathletic—Iwasn’t.The reason is that Idid a lot of chin-ups. Ipracticed.”

The prolific writer anddirector Woody Allen, whenasked about his advice foryoungartists,oncesaid:

My observation wasthat once a personactually completed aplay or a novel hewaswell on his way togetting it produced orpublished, as opposedto a vast majority ofpeople who tell me

their ambition is towrite, but who strikeout on the very firstlevel and indeed neverwritetheplayorbook.

Or, in Allen’s snappierformulation, “Eighty percentof success in life is showingup.”

Back in the 1980s, bothGeorge H. W. Bush andMario Cuomo frequentlyrepeatedthisbitofwisdomin

speech after speech, turningthesayingintosomethingofameme. So, while theseleadersoftheRepublicanandDemocraticpartiesmusthavedisagreed on a great manythings,theywereincompleteconsensus on the importanceoffollowingthroughonwhatonehasstarted.

ItoldGeorgeVaillantthat,if I’d been on the Harvardresearch team in 1940, Iwould have made a

suggestion. I would haveallowed the young men tocome back the next day, ifthey wanted, and try theTreadmill Test again. Isuspectthatsomewouldhavecome back to see if theycouldstayonlonger,whereasothers would have beencontent with their first timedeffort. Maybe some wouldask the researchers whetherthey knew of any strategies,physicalormental,inorderto

last longer.Andmaybe thesefellows would even beinterestedinathirdtry,andafourth. . . . Then I wouldcreate a grit score based onhow many times menvoluntarily returned to see iftheycouldimprove.

Stayingonthetreadmill isone thing, and Ido think it’srelated to staying true to ourcommitments even whenwe’re not comfortable. Butgetting back on the treadmill

the next day, eager to tryagain, is in my view evenmore reflective of grit.Because when you don’tcome back the next day—when you permanently turnyour back on a commitment—your effort plummets tozero.Asaconsequence,yourskills stop improving, and atthe same time, you stopproducing anything withwhateverskillsyouhave.

Thetreadmillis,infact,anappropriate metaphor. Bysome estimates, about 40percent of people who buyhome exercise equipmentlatersaytheyendedupusingit less than they’d expected.Howhardwepushourselvesinagivenworkoutmatters,ofcourse,but I think thebiggerimpediment to progress isthat sometimes we stopworking out altogether. Asany coach or athletewill tell

you, consistency of effortover the long run iseverything.

Howoftendopeople startdownapathandthengiveupon it entirely? How manytreadmills,exercisebikes,andweight sets are at this verymoment gathering dust inbasements across thecountry? How many kids goout for a sport and then quiteven before the season isover? How many of us vow

toknitsweatersforallofourfriends but onlymanage halfa sleeve before putting downthe needles? Ditto for homevegetable gardens, compostbins,anddiets.Howmanyofus start something new, fullof excitement and goodintentions,andthengiveup—permanently—when weencounter the first realobstacle,thefirstlongplateauinprogress?

Manyofus, it seems,quitwhat we start far too earlyand far toooften.Evenmorethantheeffortagrittypersonputs inona singleday,whatmatters is that they wake upthe next day, and the next,ready togeton that treadmillandkeepgoing.

If I have the mathapproximately right, thensomeonetwiceastalentedbut

half as hardworking asanother person might reachthesamelevelofskillbutstillproduce dramatically lessover time.This is because asstriversareimprovinginskill,they are also employing thatskill—to make pots, writebooks, direct movies, giveconcerts. If the quality andquantityofthosepots,books,movies,andconcertsarewhatcount, then the striver whoequals the person who is a

natural in skill by workingharder will, in the long run,accomplishmore.

“The separation of talentand skill,”Will Smith pointsout, “is one of the greatestmisunderstood concepts forpeople who are trying toexcel,whohavedreams,whowanttodothings.Talentyouhave naturally. Skill is onlydevelopedbyhoursandhoursandhoursofbeatingonyourcraft.”

I would add that skill isnot the same thing asachievement, either. Withouteffort, your talent is nothingmore than your unmetpotential.Withouteffort,yourskill is nothing more thanwhatyoucouldhavedonebutdidn’t. With effort, talentbecomesskilland,attheverysame time, effortmakes skillproductive.

Chapter4

HOWGRITTYAREYOU?

I recently gave a lecture ongrit to undergraduates at the

WhartonSchool ofBusiness.Even before I’d cleared mynotes from the podium, anaspiring entrepreneur rushedtointroducehimself.

Hewas charming—full ofthe energy and enthusiasmthat makes teaching youngpeople so rewarding.Breathlessly, he told me astory meant to illustrate hisown prodigious grit. Earlierthat year, he’d raisedthousands of dollars for his

start-up, going to heroiclengths to do so, and pullingseveral all-nighters in theprocess.

I was impressed and saidso.ButIhastenedtoaddthatgrit is more about staminathan intensity. “So, if you’reworking on that project withthe same energy in a year ortwo,emailme.Icansaymoreaboutyourgritthen.”

He was puzzled. “Well, Imight not beworking on the

samethinginafewyears.”Good point. Lots of

ventures that seempromisingat the start turn out badly.Lots of optimistic businessplans end up in the discardbin.

“Okay, so maybe thisparticular start-up won’t bewhat you’reworkingon.Butif you’re not working in thesameindustry,ifyou’reontosome totally unrelated

pursuit, then I’m not sureyourstoryillustratesgrit.”

“You mean, stay in onecompany?”heasked.

“Not necessarily. Butskipping around from onekind of pursuit to another—from one skill set to anentirely different one—that’snotwhatgrittypeopledo.”

“But what if I movearound a lot and, while I’mdoing that, I’m workingincrediblyhard?”

“Grit isn’t just workingincredibly hard. That’s onlypartofit.”

Pause.“Why?”“Well,foronething, there

arenoshortcutstoexcellence.Developing real expertise,figuring out really hardproblems, it all takes time—longer than most peopleimagine. And then, youknow, you’ve got to applythose skills and produce

goods or services that arevaluable to people. Romewasn’tbuiltinaday.”

He was listening, so Icontinued.

“And here’s the reallyimportant thing.Grit isaboutworking on something youcare about so much thatyou’rewillingtostayloyaltoit.”

“It’sdoingwhatyou love.Igetthat.”

“Right, it’s doing whatyou love, but not just fallinginlove—stayinginlove.”

Howgrittyareyou?Belowisa version of the Grit Scale Ideveloped for my study atWestPoint andwhich Iusedin other studies described inthisbook.Readeachsentenceand, on the right, check offthe box that makes sense.Don’t overthink the

questions. Instead, just askyourself howyou compare—not just to your coworkers,friends, or family—but to“mostpeople.”

Notatalllikeme

Notmuchlikeme

Somewhatlikeme

1.Newideasandprojects

5 4

sometimesdistractmefrompreviousones.

2.Setbacksdon’tdiscourageme.Idon’tgiveupeasily.

1 2

3.Ioftensetagoal

5 4

butlaterchoosetopursueadifferentone.

4.Iamahardworker.

1 2

5.Ihavedifficultymaintainingmyfocusonprojects

5 4

thattakemorethanafewmonthstocomplete.

6.IfinishwhateverIbegin.

1 2

7.Myinterestschangefromyeartoyear.

5 4

8.Iamdiligent.Inevergiveup.

1 2

9.Ihavebeenobsessedwithacertainideaorprojectforashorttime

5 4

butlaterlostinterest.

10.Ihaveovercomesetbackstoconqueranimportantchallenge.

1 2

Tocalculateyourtotalgritscore, add up all the points

for the boxes you checkedand divide by 10. Themaximumscoreon this scaleis 5 (extremely gritty), andthelowestpossiblescoreis1(notatallgritty).

You can use the chartbelowtoseehowyourscorescompare toa largesampleofAmericanadults.I

Percentile GritScore

10% 2.5

20% 3.0

30% 3.3

40% 3.5

50% 3.8

60% 3.9

70% 4.1

80% 4.3

90% 4.5

95% 4.7

99% 4.9

Keepinmindthatyourscoreisareflectionofhowyouseeyourself right now. Howgrittyyouare at thispoint inyour life might be differentfrom how gritty you werewhenyouwereyounger.Andif you take the Grit Scaleagain later, you might get a

different score. As this bookwillcontinuetoshow,thereisevery reason to believe thatgritcanchange.

Grit has two components:passion and perseverance. Ifyou want to dig a littledeeper, you can calculateseparate scores for eachcomponent: For your passionscore, addupyourpoints forthe odd-numbered items anddivide by 5. For yourperseverance score, add up

your points for the even-numbered items and divideby5.

If you scored high onpassion, you probably scoredhigh on perseverance, too.Andviceversa.Still,I’lltakea guess that yourperseverance score is a weebit higher than your passionscore. This isn’t true for allpeople, but it’s true formostpeople I’ve studied. Forinstance, I took the scale

while writing this chapter,and I scored 4.6 overall.Myperseverance score was 5.0,and my passion score wasonly4.2.Strangeasitsounds,staying focusedonconsistentgoals over time ismore of astruggle forme thanworkinghardandbouncingbackfromsetbacks.

This consistent pattern—perseverance scores moreoften topping passion scores—is a clue that passion and

perseverance aren’t exactlythesame thing. In the restofthis chapter, I’ll explain howthey differ and show how tounderstand themas twopartsofawhole.

While taking the Grit Scale,you might have noticed thatnoneofthepassionquestionsasked how intensely you’recommittedtoyourgoals.Thismay seem odd, because the

wordpassion isoftenusedtodescribe intense emotions.Foralotofpeople,passionissynonymous with infatuationor obsession. But ininterviewsaboutwhatittakesto succeed, high achieversoften talk about commitmentof a different kind. Ratherthanintensity,whatcomesupagain and again in theirremarks is the idea ofconsistencyovertime.

Forinstance,I’veheardofchefswho grew upwatchingJulia Child on television andremained fascinated withcooking into adulthood. I’veheard of investors whosecuriosity about the financialmarkets is as keen in theirfourth or fifth decade ofinvesting as it was on theirveryfirstdayof trading.I’veheardofmathematicianswhowork on a problem—thesameproblem—dayandnight

for years, without oncedeciding, “Oh, to heck withthis theorem! I’mmoving onto something else.” Andthat’swhy the questions thatgenerate your passion scoreask you to reflect on howsteadily you hold to goalsovertime.Ispassiontherightword to describe sustained,enduring devotion? Somemight say I should find abetter word. Maybe so. Buttheimportantthingistheidea

itself: Enthusiasm iscommon.Enduranceisrare.

Consider, for example,Jeffrey Gettleman. For abouta decade, Jeff has been theEast Africa bureau chief fortheNewYorkTimes.In2012,hewon thePulitzerPrize forInternational Reporting forhis coverage of conflict inEast Africa. He’s a bit of acelebrity in the world ofinternational journalism,widely admired for his

couragetopursuestoriesthatput his life at risk and, also,for his willingness tounflinchingly report eventsthatareunthinkablyhorrific.

ImetJeffwhenwewereinour early twenties. At thetime, both of us werepursuing master’s degrees atOxford University. For me,this was before McKinsey,before teaching, and beforebecomingapsychologist.ForJeff, this was before he’d

writtenhis first news story. Ithinkit’sfairtosaythat,backthen,neitherofusknewquitewhat we wanted to be whenwe grew up—and we wereboth trying desperately tofigureitout.

I caught up with Jeff onthephonerecently.HewasinNairobi, his home basebetweentripstootherpartsofAfrica. Every few minutes,we had to ask each other ifwecouldstillbeheard.After

reminiscing about ourclassmates and trading newsabout our children, I askedJeff to reflect on the idea ofpassionandhowithadplayedoutinhislife.

“Foraverylongtime,I’vehad a very clear sense ofwhere I wanted to be,” Jefftoldme.“Andthatpassionisto live and work in EastAfrica.”

“Oh, I didn’t know—Iassumed your passion was

journalism,notacertainareaof the world. If you couldonly be a journalist or onlylive in East Africa, whichwouldyouchoose?”

I expected Jeff to pickjournalism.Hedidn’t.

“Look, journalism is agreat fit for me. I’ve alwaysgravitated towards writing.I’ve always been okay beingin new situations. Even theconfrontational side ofjournalism—that speaks to

my personality. I like tochallenge authority. But Ithink journalismhasbeen, inasense,ameanstoanend.”

Jeff’s passion emergedoveraperiodofyears.Anditwasn’t just a process ofpassive discovery—ofunearthingalittlegemhiddeninside his psyche—but ratherof active construction. Jeffdidn’t just go looking forhispassion—hehelpedcreateit.

Moving to Ithaca, NewYork,fromEvanston,Illinois,Jeff, at eighteen years old,could not have predicted hisfuture career. At Cornell, heended up majoring inphilosophy, in part because“it was the easiest to fulfillthe requirements.” Then, thesummer after freshman year,he visited East Africa. Andthatwas thebeginningof thebeginning: “I don’t knowhow to explain it. This place

just blew my mind. TherewasaspiritherethatIwantedtoconnectwith,andIwantedtomakeitapartofmylife.”

Assoonashegotback toCornell, Jeff started takingcourses in Swahili, and aftersophomore year, he took ayear off to backpack aroundtheworld.Duringthattrip,hereturned to East Africa,experiencing the samewonderhe’dfeltthefirsttimehevisited.

Still, it wasn’t clear howhe’d make a life there. Howdidhehit on journalismas acareerpath?Aprofessorwhoadmired Jeff’s writingsuggested as much, and Jeffremembers thinking, “That isthe dumbest idea I hadheard...whowantstoworkfor a boring newspaper?” (Iremember thinking the samething once about becoming aprofessor:Whowants tobeaboring professor?)

Eventually, Jeff didwork forthestudentpaper,theCornellDaily Sun—but as aphotographer,notawriter.

“When I got to Oxford, Iwas pretty lost academically.ItwasshockingtotheOxfordprofessors that Ididn’t reallyknow what I wanted to do.Theywerelike,‘Whyareyouhere?This is a seriousplace.Youshouldhaveafirmsenseofwhatyouwant tostudyoryoushouldn’tbehere.’ ”

My guess at the timewasthat Jeff would pursuephotojournalism. Hereminded me of RobertKincaid, the worldly, wisephotographerplayedbyClintEastwood in The Bridges ofMadison County, which wasreleased around the time webecamefriends.Infact,Icanstill remember thephotographs Jeff showed metwenty years ago. I thoughtthey were from National

Geographic,buthe’dactuallytakenthemhimself.

By his second year atOxford, he figured out thatjournalismwasanevenbetterfit: “Once I learned moreabout being a journalist andhowthatcouldgetmebacktoAfrica, andhow that actuallywould be fun, and I couldwrite more creatively than Ifirst imagined journalismwas, then I was like, ‘Screwit, this is what I’m going to

do.’Isetoutaverydeliberatepath that was possible,because the journalismindustry was veryhierarchical, and it was clearhowtoget fromAtoB toCtoD,etcetera.”

Step A was writing forOxford’s student newspaper,Cherwell. Step B was asummer internship at a smallpaper in Wisconsin. Step Cwas theSt.PetersburgTimesinFloridaon theMetrobeat.

Step D was the Los AngelesTimes. Step E was the NewYork Times as a nationalcorrespondent in Atlanta.Step F was being sentoverseastocoverwarstories,and in 2006—just over adecadesincehe’dsethimselfthe goal—he finally reachedstep G: becoming the NewYork Times’ East Africabureauchief.

“It was a really windingroadthattookmetoallkinds

of places. And it wasdifficult, and discouraging,and demoralizing, and scary,and all the rest. Buteventually, I got here. I gotexactly where I wanted tobe.”

As for somany other gritparagons, the commonmetaphor of passion asfireworksdoesn’tmakesensewhen you think of whatpassion means to JeffGettleman.Fireworkseruptin

a blaze of glory but quicklyfizzle, leaving just wisps ofsmokeandamemoryofwhatwas once spectacular. WhatJeff’s journey suggestsinstead is passion as acompass—that thing thattakesyousometimetobuild,tinker with, and finally getright, and that then guidesyouonyourlongandwindingroadtowhere,ultimately,youwanttobe.

Seattle Seahawks coach PeteCarroll puts it thisway: “Doyouhavealifephilosophy?”

For some of us, thequestionmakesnosense.Wemight say:Well, I have a lotof things I’m pursuing. A lotof goals. A lot of projects.Whichdoyoumean?

But others have noproblem answering withconviction: This is what Iwant.

Everything becomes a bitclearer when you understandthe level of the goal Pete isaskingabout.He’snotaskingabout what you want to getdone today, specifically, oreven this year. He’s askingwhatyou’re trying togetoutof life. In grit terms, he’saskingaboutyourpassion.

Pete’s philosophy is: Dothings better than they haveever been done before. Likewith Jeff, it took a while to

figure out what, in thebroadersense,hewasaimingfor. The pivotal momentcame at a low point in hiscoaching career: just aftergettingfiredasheadcoachofthe New England Patriots.This was the first and onlyyear in his life when Petewasn’t playing or coachingfootball.Atthatjuncture,oneofhisgoodfriendsurgedhimto consider something moreabstract than which job to

take next: “You’ve got tohaveaphilosophy.”

Pete realized he didn’thaveoneandneededto:“IfIwas ever going to get thechancetorunanorganizationagain, I would have to beprepared with a philosophythat would drive all myactions.” Pete did a lot ofthinking and reflecting: “Mylife in the next weeks andmonths was filled withwriting notes and filling

binders.” At the same time,he was devouring the booksof John Wooden, thelegendary UCLA basketballcoach who won a record-setting ten nationalchampionships.

Likealotofcoaches,Petehad already read Wooden.Butthistime,hewasreadingWooden and understanding,at amuchdeeper level,whatthecoachingiconhadtosay.Andthemostimportantthing

Woodensaidwasthat,thougha team has to do a millionthings well, figuring out theoverarching vision is ofutmostimportance.

Pete realized in thatmoment that particular goals—winningaparticulargame,or even a seasonalchampionship,orfiguringoutthis element of the offensivelineup, or the way to talk toplayers—neededcoordination,neededpurpose:

“A clear, well-definedphilosophy gives you theguidelines and boundariesthat keep you on track,” hesaid.

Oneway to understandwhatPete is talking about is toenvisiongoalsinahierarchy.

At the bottom of thishierarchy are our mostconcreteandspecificgoals—the tasks we have on ourshort-termto-dolist:Iwanttoget out the door today byeight a.m. I want to call mybusinesspartnerback. Iwant

to finish writing the email Istartedyesterday.These low-level goals exist merely asmeans to ends. We want toaccomplish them onlybecause they get ussomething else we want. Incontrast, the higher the goalin this hierarchy, the moreabstract, general, andimportantitis.Thehigherthegoal, themore it’s an end initself,andthelessit’smerelyameanstoanend.

In the diagram I’vesketched out here, there arejust three levels. That’s anoversimplification. Betweenthe lowest and the highestlevel might be several layersof mid-level goals. Forinstance,gettingout thedoorby eight a.m. is a low-levelgoal. It onlymatters becauseof a mid-level goal: arrivingatworkontime.Whydoyoucareabout that?Becauseyouwant tobepunctual.Whydo

youcareabout that?Becausebeingpunctual shows respectforthepeoplewithwhomyouwork.Whyisthat important?Because you strive to be agoodleader.

If in the course of askingyourself these “Why?”questions your answer issimply “Just because!” thenyou know you’ve gotten tothe top of a goal hierarchy.The top-level goal is not ameanstoanyotherend.It is,

instead,anendinitself.Somepsychologists like tocall thisan “ultimate concern.”Myself, I think of this top-level goal as a compass thatgives direction and meaningtoallthegoalsbelowit.

Consider Hall of FamepitcherTomSeaver.Whenheretired in 1987 at the age offorty-two,he’dcompiled311wins; 3,640 strikeouts; 61shutouts; and a 2.86 earnedrun average. In 1992, when

SeaverwaselectedtotheHallof Fame, he received thehighest-ever percentage ofvotes: 98.8 percent. Duringhis twenty-year professionalbaseballcareer,Seaveraimedto pitch “the best I possiblycan day after day, year afteryear.” Here is how thatintention gave meaning andstructure to all his lower-ordergoals:

Pitching...determineswhatIeat,whenIgotobed, what I do whenI’m awake. ItdetermineshowIspendmy life when I’m notpitching. If it means IhavetocometoFloridaand can’t get tannedbecause I might get aburn that would keepmefromthrowingforafew days, then I nevergo shirtless in the

sun. . . . If it means Ihave to remind myselftopetdogswithmylefthand or throw logs onthe fire with my lefthand, then I do that,too. If it means in thewinter I eat cottagecheese instead ofchocolate chip cookiesin order to keep myweightdown,thenIeatcottagecheese.

The life Seaver describedsounds grim. But that’s nothow Seaver saw things:“Pitching is what makes mehappy. I’ve devoted my lifeto it. . . . I’ve made up mymindwhat Iwant to do. I’mhappywhen Ipitchwell so Ionly do things that help mebehappy.”

WhatImeanbypassionisnot just that you havesomething you care about.What Imean is thatyoucare

aboutthatsameultimategoalin an abiding, loyal, steadyway.You are not capricious.Each day, you wake upthinkingof thequestionsyoufell asleep thinking about.You are, in a sense, pointingin the same direction, evereager to take even thesmallest step forward than totakeasteptotheside,towardsomeotherdestination.Attheextreme, onemight call yourfocusobsessive.Mostofyour

actions derive theirsignificance from theirallegiance to your ultimateconcern,yourlifephilosophy.

Youhaveyourprioritiesinorder.

Gritisaboutholdingthesametop-levelgoalforaverylongtime. Furthermore, this “lifephilosophy,” as Pete Carrollmight put it, is so interestingand important that it

organizesagreatdealofyourwakingactivity.Inverygrittypeople, most mid-level andlow-level goals are, in somewayoranother,relatedtothatultimate goal. In contrast, alack of grit can come fromhaving less coherent goalstructures.

Hereareafewwaysalackof grit can show itself. I’vemetmanyyoungpeoplewhocan articulate a dream—forexample, tobeadoctoror to

playbasketballintheNBA—andcanvividly imaginehowwonderful thatwouldbe, butthey can’t point to the mid-level and lower-level goalsthatwillgetthemthere.Theirgoalhierarchyhasatop-levelgoal but no supporting mid-levelorlow-levelgoals:

This is what my goodfriend and fellowpsychologist GabrieleOettingen calls “positivefantasizing.” Gabriele’sresearch suggests thatindulging in visions of apositive future withoutfiguringouthowtogetthere,chiefly by considering whatobstacles stand in the way,has short-term payoffs butlong-termcosts. In the short-term, you feel pretty great

about your aspiration to be adoctor. In the long-term, youlive with the disappointmentof not having achieved yourgoal.

Even more common, Ithink, is having a bunch ofmid-level goals that don’tcorrespond to any unifying,top-levelgoal:

Or having a fewcompeting goal hierarchiesthat aren’t in any wayconnectedwitheachother:

To some extent, goalconflictisanecessaryfeatureof human existence. Forinstance, I have one goalhierarchy as a professionaland another as a mother.

EvenTomSeaveradmitsthatthe travel and practiceschedule of a professionalbaseball player made it hardto spend as much time withhis wife and children as hewouldhaveliked.So, thoughpitchingwas his professionalpassion,therewereothergoalhierarchies that obviouslymatteredtohim.

Like Seaver, I have onegoal hierarchy forwork:Usepsychological science tohelp

kids thrive. But I have aseparate goal hierarchy thatinvolves being the bestmother I can be to my twodaughters. As any workingparent knows, having two“ultimate concerns” isn’teasy.Thereseemsnevertobeenough time, energy, orattention to go around. I’vedecided to live with thattension.Asayoungwoman,Iconsidered alternatives—nothaving my career or not

raisingafamily—anddecidedthat, morally, there was no“right decision,” only adecision that was right forme.

So, the idea that everywaking moment in our livesshouldbeguidedbyonetop-level goal is an idealizedextreme that may not bedesirableevenforthegrittiestofus.Still,Iwouldarguethatit’s possible to pare downlong lists of mid-level and

low-level work goalsaccordingtohowtheyserveagoal of supreme importance.And I think one top-levelprofessional goal, rather thananyothernumber,isideal.

In sum, the more unified,aligned, and coordinated ourgoalhierarchies,thebetter.

Warren Buffett—the self-made multibillionaire whosepersonal wealth, acquired

entirely within his ownlifetime, is roughly twice thesize of Harvard University’sendowment—reportedly gavehis pilot a simple three-stepprocessforprioritizing.

The story goes like this:Buffett turns to his faithfulpilot and says that he musthave dreams greater thanflying Buffett around towhere he needs to go. Thepilot confesses that, yes, he

does. And then Buffett takeshimthroughthreesteps.

First,youwritedownalistoftwenty-fivecareergoals.

Second,youdosomesoul-searching and circle the fivehighest-priority goals. Justfive.

Third, you take a goodhard lookat the twentygoalsyou didn’t circle. These youavoid at all costs. They’rewhat distract you; they eatawaytimeandenergy,taking

your eye from the goals thatmattermore.

When I first heard thisstory, I thought, Who couldhave as many as twenty-fivedifferentcareergoals?That’skind of ridiculous, isn’t it?Then I started writing downon a piece of lined paper allof the projects I’m currentlyworking on. When I got tolinethirty-two,IrealizedthatI could benefit from thisexercise.

Interestingly, most of thegoalsIspontaneouslythoughtof were mid-level goals.People generally default tothat level of goal whenthey’reaskedtowritedownanumberofgoals,notjustone.

To help me prioritize, Iadded columns that allowedmetosortouthowinterestingand important these projectswere. I rated each goal on ascalefrom1to10,fromleastto most interesting and then

again from least to mostimportant. I multiplied thesenumbers together to get anumber from1 to 100.Noneofmygoalshadan“interestximportance”ratingashighas

100,butnonewereaslowas1,either.

Then I tried to takeBuffett’s advice and circlejust a few of the mostinteresting and importantgoals, relegating the rest totheavoid-at-all-costcategory.

I tried, but I just couldn’tdoit.

After a day or so ofwondering who was right—me or Warren Buffett—Irealizedthatalotofmygoals

were, in fact, related to oneanother.Themajority,infact,were means to ends, settingme up to make progresstoward one ultimate goal:helping kids achieve andthrive.Therewereonlyafewprofessional goals for whichthis wasn’t true. Reluctantly,I decided to put thoseon theavoid-at-all-costlist.

Now, if I could ever sitdown with Buffett and gothrough my list with him

(which is unlikely, since Idoubt my needs rate a placein his goal hierarchy), hewould surely tellme that thepoint of this exercise is toface the fact that time andenergy are limited. Anysuccessful person has todecidewhat to do in part bydecidingwhatnottodo.Igetthat. And I still have awaystogoonthatcount.

But I would also say thatconventionalprioritizingisn’t

enough. When you have todivide your actions among anumber of very differenthigh-level career goals,you’re extremely conflicted.You need one internalcompass—not two, three,four,orfive.

FrankModell,theNewYorker,July7,1962,TheNewYorkerCollection/TheCartoonBank.

So, to Buffett’s three-stepexercise in prioritizing, Iwouldaddanadditionalstep:Askyourself,Towhat extentdo these goals serve acommon purpose? The morethey’repart of the samegoalhierarchy—importantbecausethey then serve the sameultimate concern—the morefocusedyourpassion.

If you follow thismethodof prioritization, will youbecome a Hall of Fame

pitcher or earn more moneythan anyone else in history?Probablynot.Butyou’llstanda better chance of gettingsomewhere you care about—a better chance of movingcloser to where youwant tobe.

When you see your goalsorganized inahierarchy,yourealize that grit is not at allabout stubbornly pursuing—

at all costs and ad infinitum—every single low-levelgoalon your list. In fact, you canexpect to abandon a few ofthe things you’re workingveryhardonat thismoment.Notallofthemwillworkout.Sure, you should try hard—even a little longer than youmight think necessary. Butdon’t beat your head againstthewall attempting to followthroughonsomething that is,

merely, a means to a moreimportantend.

I thought about howimportant it is to know howlow-level goals fit into one’soverall hierarchy when Ilistened to Roz Chast, thecelebrated New Yorkercartoonist, give a talk at thelocal library. She told us herrejection rate is, at this stagein her career, about 90percent. She claimed that it

used to be much, muchhigher.

I calledBobMankoff, thecartoon editor for the NewYorker, to ask how typicalthat number is. To me, itseemedshockinglyhigh.Bobtoldme thatRozwas indeedananomaly.Phew!Ithought.I didn’t want to think aboutall the cartoonists in theworld getting rejected ninetimesoutoften.ButthenBobtoldme thatmost cartoonists

livewithevenmorerejection.At his magazine, “contractcartoonists,” who havedramatically better odds ofgettingpublishedthananyoneelse, collectively submitabout five hundred cartoonseveryweek. Inagiven issue,there is only room, onaverage, for about seventeenofthem.Ididthemath:that’sa rejection rate ofmore than96percent.

“Holy smokes! Whowould keep going when theoddsarethatgrim?”

Well, for one: Bobhimself.

Bob’s story reveals a lotabout how doggedperseverance toward a top-level goal requires,paradoxically perhaps, someflexibility at lower levels inthe goal hierarchy. It’s as ifthe highest-level goal getswritten in ink, once you’ve

done enough living andreflecting to know what thatgoal is, and the lower-levelgoalsgetwritteninpencil,soyou can revise them andsometimes erase themaltogether,andthenfigureoutnewonestotaketheirplace.

Here’s my not-at-all-NewYorker–quality drawing toshowwhatImean:

The low-level goal withthe angry-looking X throughit has been blocked. It’s arejection slip, a setback, adeadend,afailure.Thegrittyperson will be disappointed,

or even heartbroken, but notforlong.

Soon enough, the grittyperson identifies a new low-level goal—draws anothercartoon, for example—thatservesthesamepurpose.

One of the mottos of theGreen Berets is: “Improvise,adapt,overcome.”Alotofuswere told as children, “If atfirst you don’t succeed, try,tryagain.”Soundadvice,butas they say “try, try again,thentrysomethingdifferent.”At lower levels of a goalhierarchy, that’s exactlywhat’sneeded.

Here’s Bob Mankoff’sstory:

Like Jeff Gettleman, theNew York Times East Africabureau chief, Bob didn’talwayshaveaclearlydefinedpassion.Asachild,Boblikedto draw, and instead ofattending his local highschool in theBronx,hewenttotheLaGuardiaHighSchoolof Music and Art, laterfictionalized in the movieFame.Oncethere,though,hegot a lookat the competitionandwasintimidated.

“Being exposed to realdrawing talent,” Bob recalls,“made mine wither. I didn’ttouch a pen, pencil, orpaintbrush for three yearsafter graduating.” Instead, heenrolled at SyracuseUniversity, where he studiedphilosophyandpsychology.

In his senior year, hebought a book calledLearning to Cartoon by thelegendary Syd Hoff, anexemplarofthe“effortcounts

twice” maxim. Over hislifetime,Hoffcontributed571cartoons to the New Yorker,wrote and illustrated morethan sixty children’s books,drew two syndicated comicstrips, and contributedliterally thousands ofdrawings and cartoons toother publications. Hoff’sbook opens cheerilywith “Isit hard becoming acartoonist? No, it isn’t. Andto prove it, I’ve written this

book. . . .” It ends with achapter called “How toSurvive Rejection Slips.” Inbetween are lessons oncomposition, perspective, thehuman figure, facialexpressions,andsoon.

BobusedHoff’sadvice tocreate twenty-sevencartoons.He walked from onemagazinetoanother,tryingtomakeasale—butnottheNewYorker, which didn’t seecartoonists inperson.Andhe

was, of course, summarilyrejected by every editor hesaw. Most asked him to tryagain, with more cartoons,the nextweek. “More?”Bobwondered. “How couldanyonedomorethantwenty-sevencartoons?”

Before he could rereadHoff’s last chapter onrejection slips, Bob receivednotice that hewas eligible tobe drafted for combat inVietnam. He had no great

desiretogo;infact,hehadagreat desire not to. So herepurposed himself—quickly—as a graduate student inexperimental psychology.Over the next few years,while running rats in mazes,he found time, when hecould, to draw. Then, justbefore earning his doctorate,he had the realization thatresearch psychology wasn’this calling: “I rememberthinking that my defining

personality characteristicwassomething else. I’m thefunniest guy you evermet—that’s the way I thought ofmyself—I’mfunny.”

For a while, Bobconsidered two ways ofmaking humor his career: “Isaid, okay, I’m going to dostand-up,orI’mgoingtobeacartoonist.”Hethrewhimselfintobothwithgusto:“AlldayI would write routines andthen, at night, I would draw

cartoons.”Butovertime,oneof these two mid-level goalsbecame more attractive thanthe other: “Stand-up wasdifferent back then. Thereweren’t really comedy clubs.I’dhave togo to theBorschtBelt, and Ididn’t reallywantto....Iknewmyhumorwasnot going to work like Iwantedittoforthesepeople.”

So Bob dropped stand-upcomedy and devoted hisentire energy to cartoons.

“After two years ofsubmitting, all I had to showfor it were enough NewYorker rejection slips towallpaper my bathroom.”Therewere small victories—cartoons sold to othermagazines—but by that timeBob’s top-level goal hadbecome a whole lot morespecific and ambitious: Hedidn’t just want to be funnyfor a living, hewanted to beamong thebestcartoonists in

the world. “The New Yorkerwas to cartooning what theNew York Yankees were tobaseball—the Best Team,”Bob explains. “If you couldmakethatteam,youtoowereoneofthebest.”

ThepilesofrejectionslipssuggestedtoBobthat“try,tryagain” was not working. Hedecided to do somethingdifferent. “Iwent to theNewYork Public Library and Ilooked up all the cartoons

back to 1925 that had everbeen printed in the NewYorker.” At first, he thoughtmaybe he didn’t draw wellenough, but it was plain toseethatsomeverysuccessfulNew Yorker cartoonists werethird-rate draftsmen. ThenBob thought that somethingmightbeawrywiththelengthof his captions—too short ortoo long—but thatpossibilitywasn’t supported, either.Captions were generally

brief, but not always, andanyway, Bob’s didn’t seemunusual in that respect. ThenBob thought maybe he wasmissing the mark with histype of humor. No again:some successful cartoonswere whimsical, somesatirical, some philosophical,andsomejustinteresting.

The one thing all thecartoonshad incommonwasthis: they made the readerthink.

And here was anothercommon thread: everycartoonist had a personalstyle that was distinctivelytheir own. There was nosingle “best” style. On thecontrary, what mattered wasthat style was, in some verydeep and idiosyncratic way,an expression of theindividualcartoonist.

Paging through, literally,everycartoontheNewYorkerhad ever published, Bob

knewhecoulddoaswell.Orbetter. “I thought, ‘I can dothis, I can do this.’ I hadcomplete confidence.” Heknewhecoulddrawcartoonsthat would make peoplethink, and he knew he coulddevelop his own style: “Iworked through variousstyles. Eventually I did mydot style.” The now-famousdotstyleofBob’scartoonsiscalledstippling,andBobhadoriginally tried it outback in

high school, when hediscovered the FrenchimpressionistGeorgesSeurat.

Aftergettingrejectedfromthe New Yorker about twothousandtimesbetween1974and 1977, Bob sent in thecartoon, below. It wasaccepted.

RobertMankoff,theNewYorker,June20,1977,TheNewYorkerCollection/TheCartoonBank.

The next year, he soldthirteen cartoons to the NewYorker, then twenty-five thefollowing year, then twenty-seven. In1981,Bobreceiveda letter from the magazineasking if he’d considerbecoming a contractcartoonist.Hesaidyes.

In his role as editor andmentor,Bob advises aspiringcartoonists to submit their

drawings in batches of ten,“because in cartooning, as inlife, nine out of ten thingsneverworkout.”

Indeed, giving up onlower-level goals is not onlyforgivable, it’s sometimesabsolutely necessary. Youshould give up when onelower-level goal can beswapped for another that ismore feasible. It also makessense to switch your pathwhen a different lower-level

goal—a different means tothe same end—is just moreefficient, ormore fun, or forwhatever reasonmakesmoresensethanyouroriginalplan.

On any long journey,detoursaretobeexpected.

However, the higher-levelthe goal, the more it makessense to be stubborn.Personally,Itrynottogettoohung up on a particularrejected grant application,academic paper, or failed

experiment.Thepainofthosefailures is real, but I don’tdwellonthemforlongbeforemoving on. In contrast, Idon’t give up as easily onmid-level goals, and frankly,I can’t imagine anything thatwould change my ultimateaim, my life philosophy, asPetemightsay.Mycompass,onceIfoundallthepartsandputittogether,keepspointingme in the same direction,weekaftermonthafteryear.

Long before I conducted thefirstinterviewsthatputmeonthe trail of grit, a Stanfordpsychologist namedCatharine Cox was, herself,cataloging the characteristicsofhighachievers.

In 1926, Cox publishedher findings, based on thebiographical details of 301exceptionally accomplishedhistorical figures. Theseeminent individuals included

poets, political and religiousleaders, scientists, soldiers,philosophers, artists, andmusicians.All livedanddiedin the four centuries prior toCox’s investigation, and allleft behind records ofaccomplishment worthy ofdocumentation in six popularencyclopedias.

Cox’s initial goal was toestimate how smart each ofthese individuals were, bothrelative to one another and

also compared to the rest ofhumanity. In pursuit of thoseestimates, she combedthrough the availableevidence, searching for signsofintellectualprecocity—andfrom the age and superiorityoftheseaccomplishmentsshereckoned each person’schildhood IQ. The publishedsummary of this study—ifyou can call a book ofmorethan eight hundred pages asummary—includes a case

historyforeachofCox’s301,arranged in order from leasttomostintelligent.

According to Cox, thevery smartest in the bunchwas the philosopher JohnStuart Mill, who earned anestimatedchildhood IQscoreof 190 by learning Greek atagethree,writingahistoryofRomeatagesix,andassistinghis father in correcting theproofsofahistoryofIndiaatage twelve. The least

intelligentinCox’sranking—whose estimated childhoodIQs of 100 to 110 are just ahair above average forhumanity—included thefounder of modernastronomy, NicolausCopernicus; the chemist andphysicist Michael Faraday;and the Spanish poet andnovelistMigueldeCervantes.Isaac Newton ranks squarelyin themiddle, with an IQ of130—the bareminimum that

a child needs in order toqualify for many of today’sgiftedandtalentedprograms.

From these IQ estimates,Cox concluded that, as agroup, accomplishedhistorical figures are smarterthanmost of us. No surprisethere.

A more unexpectedobservationwashowlittleIQmatteredindistinguishingthemost from the leastaccomplished. The average

childhood IQ of the mosteminentgeniuses,whomCoxdubbed the First Ten, was146. The average IQ of theleast eminent, dubbed theLast Ten, was 143. Thespread was trivial. In otherwords, the relationshipbetween intelligence andeminence in Cox’s samplewasexceedinglyslight.

Cox’sFirstTen(MostEminentGeniuses)

SirFrancisBaconNapoleonBonaparteEdmundBurkeJohannWolfgangvonGoethe

MartinLutherJohnMiltonIsaacNewtonWilliamPittVoltaireGeorgeWashington

Cox’sLastTen(LeastEminentGeniuses)

ChristianK.J.vonBunsen

ThomasChalmersThomasChattertonRichardCobdenSamuelTaylorColeridgeGeorgesJ.DantonJosephHaydnHugues-Félicité-RobertdeLamennais

GiuseppeMazziniJoachimMurat

Ifintellectualtalentwasn’tthe determinant ofwhether aperson ascended to the FirstTen or was relegated to the

Last Ten, then what was?While poring over thousandsofpagesofbiographicaldata,Cox and her assistant alsoevaluated sixty-sevendifferentpersonality traits fora subset of one hundredgeniuses. Cox deliberatelychosea rainbowof traits—infact, she covered the fullrange of what modernpsychologists consider to beimportant—to allow for thefullestpossibleexplorationof

the differences that set apartthe eminent from the rest ofhumanity and, further, theFirstTenfromtheLastTen.

For most of the sixty-seven indicators, Cox foundonly trivial differencesbetween the eminent and thegeneral population. Forinstance, eminence had littleto do with extroversion,cheerfulness, or sense ofhumor. And not all the highachievers had earned high

marksinschool.Rather,whatdefinitively set apart theeminent from the rest ofhumanity were a cluster offour indicators. Notably,these also distinguished theFirstTenfromtheLastTen—the super-eminent from themerelyeminent.Coxgroupedthese together and calledthem“persistenceofmotive.”

Two indicators couldeasilyberephrasedaspassionitemsfortheGritScale.

Degree to which heworks with distantobjects in view (asopposed to living fromhand to mouth). Activepreparation for laterlife. Working toward adefinitegoal.

Tendency not toabandon tasks frommerechangeability.Notseekingsomethingfresh

becauseofnovelty.Not“lookingforachange.”

And the other two couldeasily be rewritten asperseverance items for theGritScale.

Degree of strength ofwill or perseverance.Quiet determination tostick to a course oncedecidedupon.

Tendency not toabandon tasks in theface of obstacles.Perseverance, tenacity,doggedness.

In her summarycomments, Cox concludedthat“highbutnot thehighestintelligence, combined withthe greatest degree ofpersistence, will achievegreater eminence than thehighestdegreeof intelligence

with somewhat lesspersistence.”

However you scored on theGritScale,Ihopeitpromptedself-reflection. It’s progressjustclarifyingyourgoals,andtheextenttowhichtheyare—or aren’t—aligned toward asingle passion of supremeimportance.It’salsoprogresstobetterunderstandhowwellyou’re currently able to

persevereinthefaceof life’srejectionslips.

It’sastart.Let’scontinue,in the next chapter, to seehow grit can and doeschange.And,then,intherestofthebook,let’slearnhowtoacceleratethatgrowth.

I. If, for example, you scored 4.1,you’re grittier than about 70percentoftheadultsinoursample.

Chapter5

GRITGROWS

“Howmuch of our grit is inourgenes?”

I’maskedsomeversionofthis question pretty much

anytime Igivea talkongrit.Thenature-nurturequestionisaverybasicone.Wehaveanintuitive sense that somethings about us—like ourheight—are pretty muchdetermined in the geneticlottery, while other things—like whether we speakEnglish or French—are aresult of our upbringing andexperience. “You can’t trainheight” is a popularexpression in basketball

coaching, and many peoplewho learn about grit want toknow if it’smore like heightormorelikelanguage.

Tothequestionofwhetherwe get grit from our DNA,there is a short answer and alongone.Theshortansweris“inpart.”Thelongansweris,well, more complicated. Inmyview,thelongeranswerisworth our attention. Sciencehas made huge strides infiguring out how genes,

experience, and theirinterplay make us who weare.FromwhatIcantell, theinherent complexity of thesescientific facts has led,unfortunately, to theircontinually beingmisunderstood.

To begin, I can tell youwithcompleteconvictionthatevery human trait isinfluencedbybothgenesandexperience.

Consider height.Height isindeed heritable: geneticdifferences are a big reasonwhy some people are reallytall, some really short, and abunch of people are ofvaryingheightsinbetween.

But it’s also true that theaverage height of men andwomen has increaseddramatically in just a fewgenerations. For instance,militaryrecordsshowthattheaverageBritishmanwasfive

feetfiveinchestallabout150years ago, but today thataverage is five feet teninches. Height gains havebeen even more dramatic inother countries; in theNetherlands,theaveragemannow stands almost six footone—againofmore thansixinchesoverthelast150years.I am reminded of thesedramaticgenerationalgainsinheight whenever I gettogether with my Dutch

collaborators. They benddown solicitously, but it stillfeels like standing ina forestofredwoods.

It’s unlikely that the genepool has changed all thatdramatically in just a fewgenerations.Instead,themostpowerfulheightboostershavebeen nutrition, clean air andwater, andmodernmedicine.(Incidentally, generationalgains in weight have beeneven more dramatic, and

again, that seems to be theconsequence of eating moreand moving around lessrather than changes in ourDNA.) Even within ageneration, you can see theinfluence of environment onheight. Children who areprovided healthy food inabundance will grow uptaller, whereasmalnourishment stuntsgrowth.

Likewise, traits likehonesty and generosity and,yes, grit, are geneticallyinfluenced and, in addition,influenced by experience.Ditto for IQ, extroversion,enjoying the great outdoors,having a sweet tooth, thelikelihoodthatyou’llendupachain-smoker, your risk ofgettingskincancer,andreallyany other trait you can thinkof. Nature matters, and sodoesnurture.

Talents, in all their varieties,are also geneticallyinfluenced. Some of us arebornwith genes thatmake iteasiertolearntocarryatune,ordunkabasketball,orsolvea quadratic equation. Butagainst intuition, talents arenot entirely genetic: the rateatwhichwedevelopanyskillis also, crucially, a functionofexperience.

For instance, sociologistDan Chambliss swamcompetitively in high schoolbut stopped when it seemedclearhewasn’tgoingtomakeit as a nationally rankedswimmer.

“I’msmall,”heexplained,“andmyankleswon’tplantarflex.” Come again? “I can’tpointmytoes.Icanonlyflexthem. It’s an anatomicallimitation. Which means,basically, at the elite level, I

could only swimbreaststroke.” After ourexchange, I did a littleresearch on plantar flexion.Stretching exercises canimprove your range ofmotion, but the length ofcertain bones does make adifference in how flexibleyourfeetandanklesare.

Still, the biggestimpediment to improvingwasn’t anatomy; it was howhe was coached: “In

retrospect, I look back nowandcanseeIhadhorriblybadcoachesinacoupleofcrucialplaces. One of my highschool coaches—I had himfor four years—literallytaught me zero. Nothing. Hetaught me how to do abreaststroke turn, and hetaughtmeincorrectly.”

WhathappenedwhenDandid, finally, experience goodcoaching, in part fromhanging around the national

andOlympiccoacheshewasstudying?

“Years later, I got backinto the pool, got in shapeagain, and swam a two-hundred-yard individualmedleyasfastasIdidinhighschool.”

Again, same story. Notjust nature, and not justnurture.Both.

Howdoscientistsknow,withunwavering conviction, thatbothnatureandnurtureplayarole in determining thingslike talent andgrit?Over thepast fewdecades, researchershave been studying identicaland fraternal twins, raised inthe same family or raised indifferent families. IdenticaltwinshaveallthesameDNA,while fraternal twins, onaverage, only share abouthalf. That fact, and a whole

lot of fancy statistics (well,not that fancy—moremundane,really,onceagoodteacherexplainsthemtoyou),allows researchers to infer,from how similar the twinsgrowuptobe,theheritabilityofatrait.

Very recently, researchersin London let me knowthey’d administered the GritScale to more than twothousand pairs of teenagetwins living in the United

Kingdom. This studyestimated the heritability ofthe perseverance subscale tobe37percentandthepassionsubscale to be 20 percent.Theseestimatesareonparforheritabilityestimatesforotherpersonality traits, and in thesimplest terms, this meansthat some of the variation ingrit in the population can beattributed to genetic factors,and the restcanbeattributedtoexperience.

I hasten to add that thereisn’t just one gene thatexplains the heritability ofgrit. On the contrary, dozensof research studies haveshown that almost all humantraits are polygenic,meaningthat traits are influenced bymore than one gene. Manymore, in fact. Height, forexample, is influenced by, atlast count, at least 697differentgenes.Andsomeofthe genes that influence

height influence other traitsas well. In total, the humangenome contains as many astwenty-five thousanddifferentgenes,andtheytendto interact with one anotherand with environmentalinfluences in complicated,stillpoorlyunderstood,ways.

In sum, what have welearned?First:grit,talent,andall other psychological traitsrelevant tosuccess in lifeareinfluenced by genes and also

by experience. Second:there’snosinglegeneforgrit,or indeed any otherpsychologicaltrait.

I’d like to make a third,important point: heritabilityestimatesexplainwhypeoplediffer from the average, butthey say nothing about theaverageitself.

While the heritability ofheight says something about

variability—why in a givenpopulation some people aretaller and some shorter—itsays nothing about howaverage height has changed.This is important because itprovides evidence that theenvironment we grow up inreally does matter, and itmattersalot.

Here’s another strikingexample, and one morerelevant to the science ofsuccess: the Flynn effect.

Named after Jim Flynn, theNew Zealand social scientistwho discovered it, the Flynneffectreferstostartlinggainsin IQ scores over the pastcentury. How big are thegains? On the most widelyused IQ tests today—theWechsler Intelligence Scalefor Children and theWechsler Adult IntelligenceScale—gains have averagedmorethanfifteenpointsinthelast fifty years in the more

thanthirtycountriesthathavebeen studied. Put anotherway, if you scored people acentury ago against modernnorms, they would have anaverage IQ score of 70—borderline for mentallyretarded.Ifyouscoredpeopletoday against the norms of acentury ago, we would haveanaverageIQscoreof130—the typical cut score formentallygiftedprograms.

WhenI first learnedaboutthe Flynn effect, I didn’tbelieve it. How could it bethat we’re all getting thatmuchsmartersoquickly?

I called Jim to share myincredulity—andmydesiretolearn more—and, globe-trotter that he is, he actuallyflew all the way toPhiladelphiatomeetwithmeand give a talk on his work.At our first encounter, Iremember thinking that Jim

lookedlikeacaricatureofanacademic: tall, a little bony,wire-rimmed glasses, and arather unruly head of curlysteel-grayhair.

Flynn began his talk withthebasic factson IQchange.Digging through the rawscores of IQ tests taken overthe years, he found that theimprovements on some testswere much bigger thanothers. He went to thechalkboard and sketched out

a steep line indicating thatscores had climbed mostsharplyfor IQ testsassessingabstract reasoning. Forinstance, many youngchildrentodaycananswerthequestion “Dogs and rabbits:How are they alike?” Theymight tellyou thatbothdogsand rabbits are alive, or thatthey’re both animals. In thescoring manual, theseanswers only earn a halfcredit. Some children might

gosofarastosaythatthey’reboth mammals, and for thatinsight, they’d earn a fullcredit. In contrast, youngchildren a century agomightlook at you quizzically andsay, “Dogs chase rabbits.”Zeropoints.

Asaspecies,we’regettingbetter and better at abstractreasoning.

By way of explainingmassive gains in certain IQsubtests but not in others,

Flynn told a story aboutbasketball and television.Basketball, at all levels ofcompetition, has gottenmorecompetitive over the lastcentury. Flynn played a littleball himself as a student andremembers the gamechanging even within a fewyears.Whathappened?

According to Flynn, whathappened was television.Basketball was a great gametowatch on the small screen

and the exposure fueled thegame’s popularity. Oncetelevision became ahousehold fixture, more kidsstarted playing the game,trying left-handed layups,crossover dribbles, gracefulhook shots, and other skillsthat seemed routine amongstar players. And by gettingbetter, each kid inadvertentlyenriched the learningenvironment for the kids heor she was playing against.

Becauseonethingthatmakesyou better at basketball isplayingwithkidswhoarejustalittlemoreskilled.

Flynn called this virtuouscycle of skill improvementthe social multiplier effect,andheusedthesamelogictoexplain generational changesin abstract reasoning. Moreand more, over the pastcentury, our jobs and dailylives ask us to thinkanalytically, logically.Wego

to school for longer, and inschool, we’re asked, moreand more, to reason ratherthan rely on rotememorization.

Eithersmallenvironmentaldifferences, or genetic ones,can trigger a virtuous cycle.Either way, the effects aremultiplied socially, throughculture, because each of usenriches the environment ofallofus.

HereisagraphshowinghowGritScalescoresvarybyage.These are data from a largesample of American adults,and you can see from thehorizontal axis that thegrittiest adults in my samplewere in their late sixties orolder; the leastgrittywere intheirtwenties.

One explanation for thisdata is that there’s a sort of“reverse Flynn effect” forgrit. For instance, it’spossible that adults in their

seventh decade of life aregrittierbecause theygrewupin a very different culturalera, perhaps one whosevaluesandnormsemphasizedsustained passion andperseverance more than hasbeen the case recently. Inother words, it could be thatthe Greatest Generation isgrittier than the millennialsbecause cultural forces aredifferent today thanyesterday.

This explanation for whygrit andagegohand inhandwas suggested to me by anolder colleaguewho, lookingovermyshoulderatthesamegraph, shook his head andsaid, “I knew it! I’ve beenteaching the sameundergraduates the samecourseat the sameuniversityfordecades.AndI’lltellyou,they just don’t work as hardthese days as they used to!”My dad,who gave his entire

professional lifeasachemistto DuPont and quite literallyretired with the gold watch,might say the same of theWharton entrepreneur whoapproached me after mylecture. Even while pullingall-nighters for his presentventure, the young man halfexpected to be on tosomething entirely newwithinafewyears.

Alternatively, it’s possibletheseagetrendshavenothingto do with generationalchangesingrit.Instead,whatthe data may be showing ishowpeoplematureovertime.My own experience, and thestories of grit paragons likeJeff Gettleman and BobMankoffsuggestthat,indeed,grit grows as we figure outour life philosophy, learn todust ourselves off afterrejectionanddisappointment,

andlearntotellthedifferencebetween low-level goals thatshould be abandoned quicklyand higher-level goals thatdemand more tenacity. Thematuration story is that wedevelopthecapacityforlong-term passion andperseveranceaswegetolder.

To distinguish betweenthese rival explanations, weneedadifferentkindofstudy.To generate the data I justshowed you, I asked people

of different ages about theircurrent level of grit. What Igotwas a snapshot of grit inyounger and older adults.Ideally, I’d follow thesepeople for the rest of theirlives, the way psychologistGeorgeVaillant followed theHarvard men. Since the GritScalehasn’tbeenaroundverylong,Ican’tplayyouatime-lapse movie of grit over thelife course. What I want is

thatmovie.What I have is asnapshot.

Fortunately, many otheraspects of personality havebeen examinedlongitudinally. In dozens ofstudies that have followedpeople over years anddecades, the trends are clear.Most of us become moreconscientious, confident,caring, and calm with lifeexperience. A lot of thatchange happens between the

agesoftwentyandforty,but,in fact, there’s no epoch inthe human life span wherepersonality stops evolving.Collectively, these datademonstratewhat personalitypsychologists now call “thematurityprinciple.”

We grow up. Or at least,mostofusdo.

To some extent, thesechanges are preprogrammedand biological. Puberty andmenopause are things that

change our personalities, forexample. But on the whole,personality change is more afunctionoflifeexperience.

Exactly how do lifeexperiences changepersonality?

One reason we change isthat we learn something wesimply didn’t know before.For instance, wemight learnthrough trial and error thatrepeatedly swapping out onecareerambitionforanotheris

unfulfilling. That’s certainlywhat happened to me in mytwenties. After running anonprofit, then pursuingneuroscience research, thenmanagement consulting, thenteaching, I learned thatbeinga “promising beginner” isfun, but being an actualexpert is infinitely moregratifying. I also learned thatyears of hard work are oftenmistaken for innate talent,and that passion is as

necessary as perseverance toworld-classexcellence.

Likewise, we learn, asnovelist John Irving did, that“to do anything really well,you have to overextendyourself,” to appreciate that,“indoingsomethingoverandover again, something thatwas never natural becomesalmost second nature,” andfinally,thatthecapacitytodowork that diligently “doesn’tcomeovernight.”

Other than insights aboutthe human condition, whatelseistherethatchangeswithage?

Whatchanges, I think,areour circumstances. As wegrow older,we’re thrust intonew situations. We get ourfirstjob.Wemaygetmarried.Ourparentsgetolder,andwefind ourselves theircaretakers. Often, these newsituations call on us to actdifferently than we used to.

And, because there’s nospecies on the planet moreadaptable than ours, wechange. We rise to theoccasion.

Inotherwords,wechangewhenweneedto.Necessityisthemotherofadaptation.

Here’s a trivial example.Somehow, my youngestdaughter, Lucy, reached theage of threewithout learningtousethepotty.Myhusbandand I had done our best to

bribe, cajole, and trick herinto leaving diapers behind.We’dreadallthebooksaboutall theright thingstodo,andwe’d tried to do all thosethings—oratleastwetriedasenergetically as is possiblefor working parents withother things on their to-dolists.Tonoavail.Lucy’swillprovedstrongerthanours.

Soon after her thirdbirthday, Lucy changedpreschool classrooms: from

the toddler classroom, wherealmost all the children werestill in diapers, to the “bigkid” classroom,which didn’teven have a changing table.The first day I dropped heroffinthenewroom,hereyeswidened to saucers, scanningthis new environment—alittle bit afraid, I think, andmore likely than notwishingshe could stay in her oldroom, where she’d growncomfortable.

I’ll never forget pickingLucy up that afternoon. Shesmiled at me proudly andannounced she’d used thepotty. And then, in so manywords, she told me she wasdone with diapers. And shewas. Potty training happenedin a single moment in time.How? Because when a childlinesupforthepottywithallthe other children and seesthatshe’sexpectedtotakeherturn, she does exactly that.

She learns to do what sheneedstodo.

Bernie Noe, theheadmaster of the LakesideSchool in Seattle, recentlyshared the following storyabout his own daughter. Itillustrates the maturityprincipletoaT.Noe’sfamilylives on campus, and as ateenager, his daughter waslate to school almost everyday. One summer, hisdaughter got a job folding

clothesat the localAmericanEagle. On her first day, thestore manager said, “Oh, bytheway, thefirst timeyou’relate, you’re fired.” She wasstunned.No secondchances?All her life, there’d beenpatience, understanding, andsecondchances.

Sothenwhathappened?“It was amazing,” Noe

remembered. “Quite literally,it was the most immediatebehavior change I’ve ever

seen her make.” Suddenly,his daughter was setting twoalarms tomake sure shewason time, or early, to a jobwhere being late was simplynot tolerated. As aheadmaster tasked withshepherding young peoplealong toward maturity, Noeconsiders his power to do sosomewhat limited. “If you’rea business, you don’t carewhether a kid thinks they’respecial.What you care about

is ‘Can you deliver? If youcan’t deliver, hey, we don’thaveanyuseforyou.’ ”

Lectures don’t have halftheeffectofconsequences.

What the maturityprinciple comes down to, Ithink, is this. Over time, welearn life lessons we don’tforget, and we adapt inresponse to the growingdemands of ourcircumstances. Eventually,new ways of thinking and

acting become habitual.There comes a daywhenwecan hardly remember ourimmature former selves.We’ve adapted, thoseadaptations have becomedurable, and, finally, ouridentity—the sort of personwe see ourselves to be—hasevolved.We’vematured.

Taken together, the dataI’vecollectedongritandageare consistent with twodifferent stories. One story

saysthatourgritchangesasafunctionoftheculturalerainwhichwegrowup.Theotherstorysays thatwegetgrittieras we get older. Both couldbe true, and I have asuspicion that both are, atleasttoanextent.Eitherway,thissnapshot reveals thatgritis not entirely fixed. Likeevery aspect of yourpsychological character, gritis more plastic than youmightthink.

If grit can grow, how doesthathappen?

I get emails and lettersalmosteverydayfrompeoplewhowishtheyhadmoregrit.They lament that they neverstuck with anything in ordertoget reallygoodat it.Theyfeel they’ve squandered theirtalents. They desperatelywant a long-term goal, andtheywant topursue thatgoal

with passion andperseverance.

But they don’t knowwheretobegin.

Agoodplace tostart is tounderstand where you aretoday. If you’re not as grittyas you want to be, askyourselfwhy.

The most obvious answerpeople come up with goessomething like this: “I guessI’mjustlazy.”

Here’sanother:“I’mjustaflake.”

Or: “I’m congenitallyincapable of sticking withthings.”

All of these answers, Ithink,arewrong.

In fact, when people dropoutofthings,theydosoforareason. Actually, they do sofordifferent reasons. Any ofthe following four thoughtsmight go through your head

right before you quit whatyou’redoing:

“I’mbored.”“The effort isn’t worthit.”“Thisisn’timportanttome.”“I can’t do this, so Imightaswellgiveup.”

There’s nothing wrong—morally or otherwise—withthoughtslikethese.AsItried

to show in this chapter,paragons of grit quit goals,too. But the higher the levelof the goal in question, themorestubborntheyareaboutseeing it through. Mostimportant, paragons of gritdon’t swap compasses:whenitcomestotheone,singularlyimportant aim that guidesalmost everything else theydo,theverygrittytendnot toutterthestatementsabove.

A lot of what I’ve learnedabout how grit grows comesfrom interviewing men andwomen who epitomize thequalities of passion andperseverance. I’ve includedsnippets of thoseconversations throughout thisbook so that you, too, canpeerinsidethemindandheartof a grit paragon and seewhether there’s a belief,attitude, or habit worthemulating.

These stories of grit areone kind of data, and theycomplement the moresystematic, quantitativestudies I’ve done in placeslike West Point and theNational Spelling Bee.Together,theresearchrevealsthe psychological assets thatmature paragons of grit havein common. There are four.They counter each of thebuzz-killers listedabove, and

theytendtodevelop,overtheyears,inaparticularorder.

First comes interest.Passion begins withintrinsically enjoying whatyou do. Every gritty personI’ve studied can point toaspects of their work theyenjoy less than others, andmost have to put up with atleast one or two chores theydon’t enjoy at all.Nevertheless, they’recaptivatedbytheendeavoras

a whole. With enduringfascination and childlikecuriosity, they practicallyshoutout,“IlovewhatIdo!”

Nextcomesthecapacitytopractice. One form ofperseverance is the dailydiscipline of trying to dothings better than we didyesterday. So, after you’vediscovered and developedinterest in a particular area,you must devote yourself tothe sort of focused, full-

hearted,challenge-exceeding-skill practice that leads tomastery.Youmustzeroinonyour weaknesses, and youmust do so over and overagain, for hours a day, weekaftermonth afteryear.Tobegritty is to resistcomplacency. “Whatever ittakes,Iwanttoimprove!”isarefrainofallparagonsofgrit,no matter their particularinterest, and no matter howexcellenttheyalreadyare.

Third is purpose. Whatripens passion is theconviction that your workmatters. For most people,interest without purpose isnearly impossible to sustainfor a lifetime. It is thereforeimperative that you identifyyourworkasbothpersonallyinteresting and, at the sametime, integrally connected tothe well-being of others. Fora few, a sense of purposedawns early, but for many,

themotivationtoserveothersheightens after thedevelopment of interest andyears of disciplined practice.Regardless, fully matureexemplars of grit invariablytell me, “My work isimportant—bothtomeandtoothers.”

And,finally,hope.Hopeisa rising-to-the-occasion kindofperseverance.Inthisbook,I discuss it after interest,practice, and purpose—but

hopedoesnot define the laststage of grit. It defineseverystage. From the verybeginning to the very end, itis inestimably important tolearn to keep going evenwhen things are difficult,even when we have doubts.Atvariouspoints,inbigwaysand small, we get knockeddown. If we stay down, gritloses. If we get up, gritprevails.

Without the meddling of apsychologist like me, youmayhave figured grit out allon your own. You mayalready have a deep andabiding interest, a readyappetite for constantchallenge, an evolved senseof purpose, and buoyantconfidence in your ability tokeep going that no adversitycould sink. If so, you’reprobably close to 5 out of 5

on the Grit Scale. I applaudyou!

If, on the other hand,you’re not as gritty as youwish you were, then there’ssomething for you in thechapters that follow. Likecalculus and piano, you canlearn the psychology of griton your own, but a littleguidancecanbeatremendoushelp.

The four psychologicalassets of interest, practice,

purpose, and hope are notYou have it or you don’tcommodities. You can learnto discover, develop, anddeepen your interests. Youcan acquire the habit ofdiscipline. You can cultivatea sense of purpose andmeaning. And you can teachyourselftohope.

You can grow your gritfrom the inside out. If you’dliketoknowhow,readon.

PartII

GROWINGGRITFROMTHEINSIDEOUT

Chapter6

INTEREST

Follow your passion is apopular theme ofcommencement speeches.I’ve sat through my fair

share, both as a student andprofessor. I’d wager that atleast half of all speakers,maybe more, underscore theimportance of doingsomethingyoulove.

For instance, Will Shortz,long-time editor of the NewYorkTimescrosswordpuzzle,told students at IndianaUniversity: “My advice foryou is, figure out what youenjoydoingmost in life, andthentrytodoitfull-time.Life

is short. Follow yourpassion.”

Jeff Bezos told Princetongraduatesthestoryofleavinga high-salary, high-statusManhattanfinancejobtostartAmazon: “After muchconsideration, I took the lesssafe path to follow mypassion.” He has also said,“Whateveritisthatyouwanttodo,you’llfindinlifethatifyou’re not passionate aboutwhat it isyou’reworkingon,

you won’t be able to stickwithit.”

And it’s not just on hotJune days in our cap andgownthatwegetthisadvice.I hear the same thing—overand over again, nearlyverbatim—from the gritparagonsIinterview.

SodoesHesterLacey.Hester is a British

journalist who has beeninterviewing achievers of thecaliberofShortzandBezos—

one per week—since 2011.Her column appears weeklyin the Financial Times.Whether they’re fashiondesigners (Nicole Farhi),authors (Salman Rushdie),musicians (Lang Lang),comedians (Michael Palin),chocolatiers(ChantalCoady),or bartenders (Colin Field),Hester asks the samequestions, including: “Whatdrives you on?” and “If you

lost everything tomorrow,whatwouldyoudo?”

I asked Hester what she’slearned from talking tomorethan two hundred “megasuccessful” people, as shedescribed them during ourconversation.

“One thing that comes uptimeandtimeagainis:‘Ilovewhat I do.’ People couch itdifferently. Quite often, theysay just that: ‘I love what Ido.’But they also say things

like ‘I’m so lucky, I get upevery morning lookingforward towork, I can’twaitto get into the studio, I can’twait to get on with the nextproject.’ These people aredoingthingsnotbecausetheyhave to or because it’sfinanciallylucrative....”

Followyourpassionwasnotthemessage I heard growingup.

Instead,Iwastoldthatthepracticalrealitiesofsurviving“in the real world” were farmore important than anyyoung person living a“sheltered life” such as myown could imagine. I waswarned that overly idealisticdreamsof“findingsomethingI loved” could in fact be abreadcrumb trail intopovertyand disappointment. I wasreminded that certain jobs,likebeingadoctor,wereboth

high-income and high-status,and that these things wouldmattermoretomeinthelongrunthanImightappreciateinthemoment.

As you might haveguessed, the individualprofferingthisadvicewasmydad.

“So,why’dyoubecomeachemist?”Ionceasked.

“Because my father toldme to,” he answeredwithoutahintofresentment.“WhenI

was a boy, history was myfavorite subject.” He thenexplained that he’d enjoyedmath and science, too, butthere was really no choicewhen it came to what he’dstudy in college. The familybusinesswastextiles,andmygrandfather dispatched eachof his sons to study tradesrelevant to one stage oranother of textile production.“Our business needed achemist,notahistorian.”

As it turned out, theCommunist Revolution inChina brought a prematureend to the family textilebusiness. Not long after hesettled here in the UnitedStates,my dadwent toworkforDuPont.Thirty-fiveyearslater, he retired as thehighest-ranking scientist inthecompany.

Given how absorbed mydad was in his work—oftenlost in reverie about some

scientific or managementproblem—and howsuccessfulhewasoverthearcof his career, it seemsworthconsidering the possibilitythat it’s best to choosepracticalityoverpassion.

Justhowridiculousisittoadviseyoungpeopletogooutand do what they love?Within the last decade or so,scientistswho study interestshave arrived at a definitiveanswer.

First, research shows thatpeople are enormously moresatisfiedwiththeirjobswhenthey do something that fitstheir personal interests. Thisis the conclusion of a meta-analysis that aggregated datafrom almost a hundreddifferent studies thatcollectivelyincludedworkingadults in just about everyconceivable profession. Forinstance, people who enjoythinking about abstract ideas

are not happy managing theminutiae of logisticallycomplicated projects; they’drather be solving mathproblems. And people whoreally enjoy interacting withpeople are not happy whentheirjobistoworkaloneatacomputer all day; they’remuch better off in jobs likesales or teaching. What’smore, people whose jobsmatch theirpersonal interests

are, in general, happier withtheirlivesasawhole.

Second, people performbetter at work when whattheydointereststhem.Thisisthe conclusion of anothermeta-analysisofsixtystudiesconductedover thepastsixtyyears. Employees whoseintrinsic personal interests fitwith their occupations dotheir jobs better, are morehelpful to their coworkers,and stay at their jobs longer.

College students whosepersonal interests align withtheirmajorearnhighergradesandarelesslikelytodropout.

It’s certainly true that youcan’t get a job just doinganythingyouenjoy.It’stoughto make a living playingMinecraft, no matter howgoodyougetat it.And thereare a lot of people in theworld whose circumstancespreclude the luxury ofchoosing among a broad

arrayofoccupationaloptions.Like it or not, there are veryrealconstraintsinthechoiceswe can make about how weearnaliving.

Nevertheless, as WilliamJamesforetoldacenturyago,these new scientific findingsaffirmcommencementspeechwisdom: the “casting vote”forhowwellwecanexpecttodoinanyendeavoris“desireand passion, the strength of[our]interest....”

In a 2014 Gallup poll, morethan two-thirdsofadultssaidthey were not engaged atwork, a good portion ofwhom were “activelydisengaged.”

Thepictureisevenbleakerabroad. In a survey of 141nations, Gallup found thateverycountrybutCanadahaseven higher numbers of “notengaged” and “activelydisengaged”workersthanthe

United States. Worldwide,only13percentofadultscallthemselves “engaged” atwork.

So it seems that very fewpeople end up loving whattheydoforaliving.

It’s difficult to reconcilethe straightforward directivesoffered in inspirationalspeecheswithepidemiclevelsof indifference toward work.When it comes to lining upouroccupationswithwhatwe

enjoy,howcomesomanyofus miss the mark? And doesmy dad’s success offer acounterexample to thepassion argument? Whatshould we make of the factthat, by the time I camealong, my father’s workreally was his passion?Shouldwestoptellingpeopleto follow your passion and,instead, tell them to followourorders?

Idon’tthinkso.

In fact, I see Will Shortzand Jeff Bezos as terrificinspirations for what workcan be. While it’s naive tothink that any of us couldloveeveryminuteofwhatwedo,Ibelievethethousandsofdata points in those meta-analyses, which confirm thecommonsense intuition thatinterest matters. Nobody isinterested in everything, andeveryone is interested insomething.Somatchingyour

job to what captures yourattentionandimaginationisagood idea. It may notguarantee happiness andsuccess, but it sure helps theodds.

That said, I don’t thinkmost young people needencouragementtofollowtheirpassion. Most would doexactlythat—inaheartbeat—if only they had a passion inthe first place. If I’m everinvited to give a

commencement speech, I’llbegin with the advice tofosterapassion.AndthenI’llspend the rest of my timetryingtochangeyoungmindsabout how that actuallyhappens.

When I first startedinterviewing grit paragons, Iassumed they’d all havestories about the singularmoment when, suddenly,

they’d discovered their God-given passion. In my mind’seye,thiswasafilmableevent,with dramatic lighting and asoundtrack of rousingorchestral musiccommensurate with itsmonumental, life-changingimport.

In the opening scene ofJulie&Julia,ayoungerJuliaChildthananyofuswatchedon television is dining in afancy French restaurant with

herhusband,Paul.Juliatakesonebiteofhersolemeunière—beautifully seared andperfectly deboned by thewaiter moments before andnow napped in a sauce ofNormandybutter, lemon,andparsley. She swoons. She’snever experienced anythinglike this before. She alwaysliked to eat, but she neverknew food could be thisgood.

“The whole experiencewasanopeningupofthesouland spirit forme,” Julia saidmany years later. “I washooked, and for life, as itturnedout.”

Such cinematic momentswere what I expected frommygritparagons.AndIthinkthis is also what younggraduates—roasting in theircaps and gowns, the hardedge of the folding chairbiting into their thighs—

imagine it must be like todiscover your life’s passion.One moment, you have noidea what to do with yourtime on earth. And the next,it’s all clear—you knowexactlywho youweremeanttobe.

But, in fact, most gritparagons I’ve interviewedtold me they spent yearsexploring several differentinterests, and the one thateventuallycametooccupyall

of their waking (and somesleeping) thoughts wasn’trecognizably their life’sdestinyonfirstacquaintance.

Olympic gold medalistswimmer Rowdy Gaines, forexample, told me: “When Iwas a kid, I loved sports.When I got to high school, Iwent out for football,baseball,basketball,golf,andtennis, in that order, before Iwent for swimming. I keptplugging away. I figured I’d

just keep going from onesporttothenextuntilIfoundsomething that I could reallyfall in lovewith.”Swimmingstuck, but it wasn’t exactlyloveatfirstsight.“ThedayItriedoutfortheswimteam,Iwent to the school library tocheck out track and fieldbecause I kind of had afeelingIwasgoingtogetcut.I figured I’d tryout for trackandfieldnext.”

As a teenager, JamesBeard Award–winning chefMarc Vetri was as interestedin music as he was incooking. After college, hemoved to Los Angeles. “Iwent to a music school outthereforayear,andIworkednights in restaurants tomakemoney.Later,when Iwas inaband,Iworkedmorningsinrestaurants so I could do themusic thing at night. Then itwas like, ‘Well, I’m making

moneyintherestaurants,andI’m really starting to like it,andI’mnotmakinganythinginmusic.’And then IhadanopportunitytogotoItaly,andthatwas it.” It’s hard formeto picture my favorite chefplaying the guitar instead ofmaking pasta, but when Iasked what he thought aboutthe road not taken, he said,“Well, music and cooking—they’re both creativeindustries. I’m glad I went

this way, but I think I couldhave been a musicianinstead.”

As for Julia Child, thatethereal morsel of solemeunière was indeed arevelation. But her epiphanywas that classical Frenchcuisine was divine, not thatshe would become a chef,cookbook author, and,eventually, the woman whowouldteachAmericatomakecoq au vin in their very own

kitchens. Indeed, Julia’sautobiography reveals thatthis memorable meal wasfollowed by a succession ofinterest-stimulatingexperiences. An incompletelist would include countlessdeliciousmeals in thebistrosof Paris; conversations andfriendships with friendlyfishmongers, butchers, andproducevendors in thecity’sopen-air markets; encounterswithtwoencyclopedicFrench

cookbooks—the first loanedtoherbyherFrenchtutorandthe second a gift from herever-supportive husband,Paul; hours of cookingclasses at Le Cordon Bleuunder the tutelage of themarvelously enthusiastic yetdemanding Chef Bugnard;and the acquaintance of twoParisianwomenwho had theidea of writing a cookbookforAmericans.

What would havehappened if Julia—whooncedreamed of becoming anovelist and, as a child,possessed,assheputit,“zerointerest in the stove”—hadreturned home to Californiaafter that fateful bite ofperfectly cooked fish? Wecan’t know for sure, butclearly in Julia’s romancewith French food, that firstbite of solewas just the firstkiss. “Really, the more I

cook, the more I like tocook,” she later told hersister-in-law.“Tothinkithastaken me forty years to findmy true passion (cat andhusbandexcepted).”

So, while we might envythosewho lovewhat theydofor a living, we shouldn’tassumethattheystartedfromadifferentplacethantherestofus.Chancesare, they tookquite some time figuring outexactly what they wanted to

do with their lives.Commencement speakersmaysayabouttheirvocation,“I can’t imagine doinganything else,” but, in fact,therewasatimeearlierinlifewhentheycould.

A few months ago, I read apost on Reddit titled“Fleeting Interest inEverything, No CareerDirection”:

I’minmyearly thirtiesand have no idea whatto do with myself,career-wise.AllmylifeI’ve been one of thosepeople who has beentold how smart Iam/howmuchpotentialIhave.I’minterestedinso much stuff that I’mparalyzed to tryanything. It seems likeevery job requires aspecialized certificate

or designation thatrequires long-term timeand financialinvestment—beforeyoucan even try the job,whichisabitofadrag.

I have a lot of sympathyfor the thirty-something whowrote this post. As a collegeprofessor,Ialsohavealotofsympathy for the twenty-somethings who come tomeforcareeradvice.

My colleague BarrySchwartzhasbeendispensingcounsel to anxious youngadultsformuchlongerthanIhave. He’s been teachingpsychology at SwarthmoreCollegeforforty-fiveyears.

Barry thinks that whatprevents a lot of youngpeople from developing aserious career interest isunrealistic expectations. “It’sreallythesameproblemalotofyoungpeoplehavefinding

a romantic partner,” he said.“Theywant somebodywho’sreallyattractiveandsmartandkind and empathetic andthoughtful and funny. Trytelling a twenty-one-year-oldthat you can’t find a personwho is absolutely the best ineveryway.Theydon’t listen.They’re holding out forperfection.”

“What about yourwonderful wife, Myrna?” Iasked.

“Oh, she is wonderful.More wonderful than I am,certainly. But is she perfect?IsshetheonlypersonIcouldhavemadeahappylifewith?Am I the only man in theworld with whom she couldhave made a wonderfulmarriage?Idon’tthinkso.”

A related problem, Barrysays, is the mythology thatfalling in love with a careershould be sudden and swift:“There are a lot of things

where the subtleties andexhilarations come withsticking with it for a while,getting elbow-deep intosomething. A lot of thingsseem uninteresting andsuperficial until you startdoingthemand,afterawhile,you realize that there are somanyfacetsyoudidn’tknowatthestart,andyounevercanfully solve the problem, orfully understand it, or what

have you.Well, that requiresthatyoustickwithit.”

After a pause, Barry said,“Actually, finding a mate isthe perfect analogy. Meetinga potential match—not theone-and-only perfect match,butapromisingone—isonlytheverybeginning.”

There’s a lot we don’t knowabout the psychology ofinterest. Iwishweknew, for

example, why some of us(includingme)findcookingafascinating subject, whilemany others couldn’t careless. Why is Marc Vetriattracted to creativeendeavors, and why doesRowdy Gaines like sports?Aside from the rather vagueexplanation that interests are,likeeverythingelseaboutus,partly heritable and partly afunction of life experience, Ican’t tell you. But scientific

research on the evolution ofinterests has yielded someimportant insights.My senseis that, unfortunately, thesebasic facts aren’t commonlyunderstood.

What most of us think ofwhenwethinkofpassionisasudden, all-at-once discovery—that first bite of solemeunièrebringingwith it thecertainty of the years you’llspend in the kitchen . . .slippingintothewateratyour

first swim meet and gettingout with the foreknowledgethat you’ll one day be anOlympian . . . getting to theendofTheCatcherintheRyeand realizing you’re destinedto be a writer. But a firstencounter with what mighteventually lead to a lifelongpassion is exactly that—justthe opening scene in amuchlonger, less dramaticnarrative.

Tothethirty-somethingonReddit with a “fleetinginterest in everything” and“no career direction,” here’swhat science has to say:passion for your work is alittle bit of discovery,followed by a lot ofdevelopment, and then alifetimeofdeepening.

Letmeexplain.First of all, childhood is

generally far too early toknow what we want to be

when we grow up.Longitudinal studiesfollowing thousands ofpeople across time haveshown thatmost people onlybegin to gravitate towardcertain vocational interests,andawayfromothers,aroundmiddle school. This iscertainlythepatternI’veseeninmyinterviewresearch,andit’s also what journalistHesterLaceyhasfoundinherinterviews with the “mega

successful.” Keep in mind,however, that a seventhgrader—even a futureparagon of grit—is unlikelyto have a fully articulatedpassionatthatage.Aseventhgrader is just beginning tofigure out her general likesanddislikes.

Second, interests are notdiscovered throughintrospection. Instead,interests are triggered byinteractions with the outside

world.Theprocessofinterestdiscovery can be messy,serendipitous,and inefficient.This is because you can’treally predict with certaintywhat will capture yourattention and what won’t.You can’t simply willyourselftolikethings,either.As Jeff Bezos has observed,“One of the huge mistakespeople make is that they tryto force an interest onthemselves.” Without

experimenting, you can’tfigureoutwhichinterestswillstick,andwhichwon’t.

Paradoxically, the initialdiscoveryofan interestoftengoes unnoticed by thediscoverer. In other words,when you just start to getinterested in something, youmay not even realize that’swhat’s happening. Theemotion of boredom isalways self-conscious—youknowitwhenyoufeelit—but

when your attention isattracted to a new activity orexperience, you may havevery little reflectiveappreciation of what’shappeningtoyou.Thismeansthat, at the start of a newendeavor, asking yourselfnervously every few dayswhether you’ve found yourpassionispremature.

Third, what follows theinitialdiscoveryofaninterestis a much lengthier and

increasingly proactive periodof interest development.Crucially, the initialtriggering of a new interestmust be followed bysubsequent encounters thatretrigger your attention—againandagainandagain.

For instance, NASAastronaut Mike Hopkins toldmethatitwaswatchingspaceshuttle launcheson televisionin high school that initiallyinspired his lifelong interest

in space travel.But itwasn’tjust one launch that hookedhim. Itwas several shown insuccession over a period ofyears. Soon enough, hestarted digging for moreinformation on NASA, and“onepieceofinformationledtoanotherandanother.”

For master potter WarrenMacKenzie,ceramicsclassincollege—whichheonlytook,initially, because all thepainting classes were full—

was followed by thediscoveryofAPotter’sBookby the great Bernard Leach,and then a year-longinternship with Leachhimself.

Finally, interests thrivewhen there is a crew ofencouraging supporters,including parents, teachers,coaches, and peers.Why areother people so important?For one thing, they providethe ongoing stimulation and

information that is essentialto actually liking somethingmore and more. Also—moreobviously—positivefeedbackmakes us feel happy,competent,andsecure.

Take Marc Vetri as anexample. There are fewthings I enjoy reading morethan his cookbooks andessaysaboutfood,buthewasa solid-C student throughoutschool. “Ineverworkedhardatacademics,”he toldme.“I

wasalways just like, ‘This iskindof boring.’ ” In contrast,MarcspentdelightfulSundayafternoons at his Siciliangrandmother’shouseinSouthPhilly. “She’d makemeatballsandlasagnaandallthat stuff, and I always likedto head down early to helpher out. By the time I waselevenorso,Istartedwantingto make that stuff at home,too.”

Asateenager,Marchadapart-time job washing dishesin a local restaurant. “And Iloved that. I worked hard.”Why? Making money wasone motivation, but anotherwas the camaraderie of thekitchen. “Around that time Iwassortofasocialoutcast.Iwaskindofawkward.Ihadastutter. Everyone at schoolthought I was weird. I waslike, ‘Oh, here I can washdishes, and I can watch the

guys on the line [cooking]whileI’mwashing,andIcaneat. Everyone is nice, andtheylikeme.’ ”

If you read Marc’scookbooks, you’ll be struckby how many friends andmentors he’s made in theworld of food. Page throughandlookforpicturesofMarcalone, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find many. Andread theacknowledgmentsofIlViaggioDiVetri.Itrunsto

twopageswith the names ofpeoplewhomadehisjourneypossible, including this note:“Mom and Dad, you’vealways let me find my ownway and helped guide methroughit.You’llneverknowhowmuchIappreciateit.I’llalwaysneedyou.”

Isit“adrag”thatpassionsdon’t come to us all at once,as epiphanies, without theneed to actively developthem?Maybe.But thereality

is that our early interests arefragile, vaguely defined, andin need of energetic, years-long cultivation andrefinement.

Sometimes, when I talk toanxious parents, I get theimpression they’vemisunderstood what I meanbygrit.Itellthemthathalfofgrit is perseverance—inresponse, I get appreciative

head nods—but I also tellthem that nobody worksdoggedly on something theydon’t find intrinsicallyinteresting.Here,headsoftenstop nodding and, instead,cocktotheside.

“Just because you lovesomething doesn’t meanyou’ll be great,” says self-proclaimed TigerMomAmyChua.“Notifyoudon’twork.Most people stink at thethings they love.” I couldn’t

agree more. Even in thedevelopment of yourinterests, there is work—practicing, studying, learning—tobe done. Still,mypointisthatmostpeoplestinkevenmoreatwhattheydon’tlove.

So, parents, parents-to-be,andnon-parentsofallages,Ihave a message for you:Beforehardworkcomesplay.Before those who’ve yet tofix on a passion are ready tospend hours a day diligently

honingskills, theymustgoofaround, triggering andretriggering interest. Ofcourse,developinganinterestrequirestimeandenergy,andyes, some discipline andsacrifice. But at this earlieststage, novices aren’tobsessed with getting better.They’re not thinking yearsand years into the future.They don’t know what theirtop-level, life-orienting goal

will be. More than anythingelse,they’rehavingfun.

In other words, even themostaccomplishedofexpertsstart out as unseriousbeginners.

Thisisalsotheconclusionof psychologist BenjaminBloom,who interviewed 120people who achieved world-class skills in sports, arts, orscience—plus their parents,coaches, and teachers.Among Bloom’s important

findings is that thedevelopment of skillprogresses through threedifferent stages, each lastingseveral years. Interests arediscovered and developed inwhatBloomcalled“theearlyyears.”

Encouragement during theearlyyears iscrucialbecausebeginners are still figuringout whether they want tocommit or cut bait.Accordingly, Bloom and his

research team found that thebest mentors at this stagewere especially warm andsupportive: “Perhaps themajor quality of theseteachers was that they madethe initial learning verypleasant and rewarding.Much of the introduction tothe field was as playfulactivity, and the learning atthe beginning of this stagewasmuchlikeagame.”

A degree of autonomyduring the earlyyears is alsoimportant. Longitudinalstudies tracking learnersconfirm that overbearingparents and teachers erodeintrinsic motivation. Kidswhoseparents let themmaketheirownchoicesaboutwhatthey like are more likely todevelop interests lateridentified as a passion. So,whilemydad inShanghai in1950didn’tthinktwiceabout

his father assigning him acareer path, most youngpeople today would find itdifficult to fully “own”interestsdecidedwithouttheirinput.

Sports psychologist JeanCôté finds that shortcuttingthis stage of relaxed, playfulinterest, discovery, anddevelopment has direconsequences.Inhisresearch,professional athletes likeRowdy Gaines who, as

children,sampledavarietyofdifferent sports beforecommitting to one, generallyfare much better in the longrun. This early breadth ofexperience helps the youngathletefigureoutwhichsportfits better than others.Sampling also provides anopportunity to “cross-train”muscles and skills that willeventually complement morefocused training. Whileathletes who skip this stage

often enjoy an earlyadvantage in competitionagainstlessspecializedpeers,Côté finds that they’re morelikely to become injuredphysicallyandtoburnout.

We’lldiscusswhatBloomcalls“themiddleyears”inthenext chapter, on practice.Finally, we’ll plumb “thelateryears”inchapter8whenwediscusspurpose.

For now, what I hope toconvey is that experts and

beginners have differentmotivational needs. At thestartofanendeavor,weneedencouragement and freedomto figure out what we enjoy.We need small wins. Weneed applause. Yes, we canhandle a tincture of criticismandcorrectivefeedback.Yes,we need to practice. But nottoo much and not too soon.Rush a beginner and you’llbludgeon their budding

interest. It’s very, very hardtogetthatbackonceyoudo.

Let’s return to ourcommencement speakers.They’re case studies inpassion,so there’ssomethingto be learned from how theyspenttheirearlyyears.New York Times puzzle

editor Will Shortz told methathismotherwas“awriterand a lover of words,” and

that her mother, in turn, hadbeen a crossword fan. Aninclination toward language,Shortzspeculated,couldverywellbeinhisgenes.

But the unique path hewalkedwas not just amatterof genetic destiny. Not verylong after he learned to readandwrite,Shortzcameacrossa puzzle book. “I was justentrancedbyit,”herecalls.“Ijust wanted to make myown.”

Predictably, that firstpuzzle book—the initialtrigger forhiscuriosity—wasfollowedbyaslewofothers.“Wordpuzzles,mathpuzzles,you name it. . . .” Soonenough, Shortz knew all ofthe major puzzle makers byname,acquiringthecompleteDoverBookscollectionofhisheroSamLoyd,aswellastheworks of a half-dozen otherpuzzle makers whose names

are as familiar to Shortz astheyareforeigntome.

Who bought all thosebooks?

Hismother.Whatelsedidshedo?“I remember when I was

very young my mom had abridgeclubover,andtokeepmequietfortheafternoonshetookapieceofpaper,ruleditinto squares, and showedmehow to enter long wordsacrossandupanddown.And

I was happy all afternoonmaking my little puzzles.Whenthebridgeclubleft,mymother came in andnumberedthegridformeandshowed me how to writeclues. So that was my firstcrossword.”

And then Shortz’s motherdid what few mothers—including me—would havethe initiativeorknow-howtodo:“Mymomencouragedmeto sell my puzzles once I

startedmakingthem,becauseas a writer, she submittedarticles for publication tomagazines and newspapers.Once she saw this interestthat I had, she showed mehowtosubmitmywork.

“I sold my first puzzlewhen I was fourteen, and Ibecame a regular contributorto Dell puzzle magazineswhenIwassixteen.”

Shortz’s mother wasclearly on the lookout for

what might pique her son’sinterest: “My mom did a lotof great things,” he told me.“For instance, I lovedlistening to radio and popmusicandrockmusicwhenIwasakid.Whenshesawthisinterest,shegotaguitarfroma neighbor and set it on thebunkbedabovemybed.Ihadtheopportunity,ifIwantedit,topickuptheguitarandstartplaying.”

But the desire to makemusicwas nothing comparedtothedesiretomakepuzzles.“After nine months, when Ihadnever touched theguitar,she took it back. I guess Ilikedlisteningtomusic,butIhadnointerestinplayingit.”

When Shortz enrolled atIndianaUniversity, itwashismom who found theindividualized program thatenabled Shortz to invent hisown major: to this day,

Shortz remains the onlyperson in theworld toholdacollege degree inenigmatology—the study ofpuzzles.

WhataboutJeffBezos?Jeff’s unusually interest-

filled childhood has a lot todowithhisunusuallycuriousmother,Jackie.

Jeff came into the worldtwoweeksafterJackieturned

seventeen years old. “So,”she toldme, “Ididn’thavealot of preconceived notionsaboutwhatIwassupposedtodo.”

She remembers beingdeeply intrigued by Jeff andhis younger brother andsister: “I was just so curiousabout these little creaturesandwho theywere andwhattheyweregoingtodo.Ipaidattention to what interestedeach one—they were all

different—and followed theirlead. I felt it was myresponsibility to let them dodeep dives into what theyenjoyed.”

For instance, at three, Jeffaskedmultiple times to sleepin a “big bed.” Jackieexplained that eventually hewould sleep in a “big bed,”but not yet. She walked intohis room the next day andfound him, screwdriver inhand, disassembling his crib.

Jackie didn’t scold him.Instead, she sat on the floorand helped. Jeff slept in a“bigbed”thatnight.

Bymiddle school, hewasinventing all sorts ofmechanical contraptions,including an alarm on hisbedroom door that made aloudbuzzingsoundwheneveroneofhissiblings trespassedacross the threshold. “Wemade so many trips toRadioShack,” Jackie said,

laughing. “Sometimes we’dgo back four times in a daybecause we needed anothercomponent.

“Once, he took string andtied all the handles of thekitchen cupboards together,and then, when you openedone, all of them would popopen.”

Itriedtopicturemyselfinthese situations. I tried topicture not freaking out. Itried to imagine doing what

Jackie did, which was tonoticethatheroldestsonwasblooming into a world-classproblem solver, and thenmerrilynurturethatinterest.

“Mymonikerat thehousewas ‘Captain of Chaos,’ ”Jackie told me, “and that’sbecause just about anythingthat youwanted to dowouldbe acceptable in somefashion.”

Jackie remembers thatwhenJeffdecidedtobuildan

infinity cube, essentially amotorized set ofmirrors thatreflect one another’s imagesback and forth ad infinitum,she was sitting on thesidewalk with a friend. “Jeffcomesup tous and is tellingus all the science behind it,andI listenandnodmyheadandaskaquestioneveryoncein a while. After he walkedaway, my friend asked if Iunderstoodeverything.AndIsaid,‘It’snotimportantthatI

understand everything. It’simportantthatIlisten.’ ”

By high school, Jeff hadturned the familygarage intoalaboratoryforinventingandexperimentation. One day,Jackie got a call from Jeff’shigh school saying he wasskipping classes after lunch.Whenhegothome,sheaskedhimwherehe’dbeengoinginthe afternoons. Jeff told herhe’d found a local professorwho was letting him

experiment with airplanewings and friction and drag,and—“Okay,” Jackie said. “Igot it. Now, let’s see if wecan negotiate a legal way todothat.”

Incollege,Jeffmajoredincomputer science andelectrical engineering, andafter graduating, applied hisprogramming skills to themanagement of investmentfunds. Several years later,Jeff built an Internet

bookstore named after thelongest river in the world:Amazon.com. (He alsoregistered the URLwww.relentless.com; type itinto your browser and seewhereittakesyou....)

“I’m always learning,” WillShortz told me. “I’m alwaysstretchingmybrain in a newway,tryingtofindanewcluefor aword, searchout anew

theme. I read once—awritersaidthat ifyou’reboredwithwriting, that means you’rebored with life. I think thesame is true of puzzles. Ifyou’re bored with puzzles,you’re bored with life,becausethey’resodiverse.”

Pretty much every gritparagon I’ve talked to,including my own dad, saysthe same thing. And inexamining one large-scalestudyafteranother,Ifindthat

the grittier an individual is,the fewer career changesthey’relikelytomake.

In contrast, we all knowpeople who habitually throwthemselves headlong into anew project, developing afierce interest, only to moveon after three or four or fiveyears to something entirelydifferent. There seems noharminpursuingavarietyofdifferent hobbies, butendlessly dating new

occupations, and neversettlingdownwithjustone,isamoreseriousmatter.

“I call them short-termers,” Jane Golden toldme.

Jane has been promotingpublicartinmyhomecityofPhiladelphia for more thanthirtyyearsas thedirectorofthe revered Mural ArtsProgram.At last count, she’shelped convert the walls ofmore than 3,600 buildings

intomurals;hersisthesinglelargest public art program inthecountry.Mostpeoplewhoknowherwoulddescribehercommitment tomural arts as“relentless,” and Jane wouldagree.

“Short-termerscomeworkhereforalittlewhileandthentheymove on, and then theygo somewhere else, and thensomewhereelseagain,andsoon. I’m always sort oflooking at them like they’re

from another planet becauseI’m like, ‘How’s that? Howdo you not lock in tosomething?’ ”

Of course, it’s Jane’sunwavering focus that needsexplaining, not the limitedattention spans of the short-termers who come and go.Fundamentally, the emotionof boredom, after doingsomething for a while, is avery natural reaction. Allhuman beings, even from

infancy, tend to look awayfrom things they’ve alreadyseen and, instead, turn theirgaze to things that are newand surprising. In fact, thewordinterestcomesfromtheLatin interesse, whichmeans“to differ.” To be interestingis, literally, to be different.We are, by our natures,neophiles.

Even though getting tiredof things after a while iscommon, it’s not inevitable.

If you revisit the Grit Scale,you’ll see that half the itemsask about how consistentyour interests are over longstretches of time. This linksback to the fact that gritparagons don’t just discoversomething they enjoy anddevelop that interest—theyalsolearntodeepenit.

As a young woman, Janethought she’d become apainter. Now she battlesbureaucratic red tape and

raises money and deals withneighborhood politics. Iwondered whether she’dsacrificed her life to a causeshefeltwasmoremeaningfulbut less interesting. Iwondered if she’d given upnovelty.

“When I stoppedpainting,it was very difficult,” Janetold me. “But then Idiscovered that growing theMuralArtsProgramcouldbeacreativeendeavor.Andthat

wasgreat,becauseI’maverycuriousperson.

“From the outside, youmight see my life asmundane: ‘Jane, you’re justrunning the Mural ArtsProgram and you’ve beendoing that forever.’ I wouldsay, ‘No, listen, today Iwentto a maximum securityprison.IwasinNorthPhilly.I went to church. I was in aboardroom. I met with adeputy commissioner. I met

with a city council person. Iworked at an artists’residencyprogram.Isawkidsgraduating.’ ”

ThenJaneusedapainter’sanalogy: “I’m like an artistwho looks at the sky everymorningandseesavarietyofreally brilliant colors whereother people would just seeblueorgray.I’mseeinginthecourse of a single day thistremendous complexity and

nuance. I see something thatiseverevolvingandrich.”

For help understanding theever-deepening interests ofexperts, I turned to thepsychologistPaulSilvia.

Paul is a leadingauthorityontheemotionofinterest.Hebegan our conversation bypointingoutthatbabiesknowjust aboutzilchwhen they’reborn. Unlike other animals,

whichhavestronginstinctstoact in certain ways, babiesneed to learn almosteverything from experience.Ifbabiesdidn’thaveastrongdrive for novelty, theywouldn’t learn as much, andthatwouldmakeitlesslikelythey’d survive. “So, interest—the desire to learn newthings, to explore the world,to seek novelty, to be on thelookout for change andvariety—it’sabasicdrive.”

How, then, dowe explainthe enduring interests of gritparagons?

Like me, Paul has foundthat experts often say thingslike “The more I know, theless I understand.” Sir JohnTempleton,forexample,whopioneered the idea ofdiversified mutual funds,made the motto of hisphilanthropic foundation“How little we know, howeagertolearn.”

Thekey,Paulexplained,isthat novelty for the beginnercomes in one form, andnovelty for the expert inanother. For the beginner,novelty is anything thathasn’t been encounteredbefore. For the expert,noveltyisnuance.

“Take modern art,” Paulsaid. “A lot of pieces couldseemverysimilartoanovicethatseemverydifferenttoanexpert. Novices don’t have

the necessary backgroundknowledge. They just seecolors and shapes. They’renot surewhat it’s all about.”But the art expert hascomparatively enormousunderstanding.Heor shehasdeveloped a sensitivity todetailsthattherestofuscan’tevensee.

Here’s another example.Ever watch the Olympics?Ever listen to thecommentators say things, in

real time, like “Oh! Thattriple lutz was just a littleshort!” “That push-off wasperfectly timed”? You sitthere and wonder how thesecommentators can perceivesuch microscopic differencesin the performance of oneathleteversusanotherwithoutwatching the video playbackin slow motion. I need thatvideo playback. I aminsensitive to those nuances.But an expert has the

accumulated knowledge andskilltoseewhatI,abeginner,cannot.

If you’d like to follow yourpassion but haven’t yetfosteredone, youmust beginatthebeginning:discovery.

Askyourselfa fewsimplequestions:What do I like tothink about?Where does mymind wander? What do Ireally care about? What

mattersmosttome?HowdoIenjoyspendingmytime?And,in contrast, what do I findabsolutelyunbearable?Ifyoufind it hard to answer thesequestions, try recalling yourteenyears,thestageoflifeatwhich vocational interestscommonlysprout.

Assoonasyouhaveevena general direction in mind,youmusttriggeryournascentinterests.Dothisbygoingoutinto the world and doing

something. To younggraduates wringing theirhandsoverwhat todo, Isay,Experiment! Try! You’llcertainly learn more than ifyoudon’t!

At this early stage ofexploration, here are a fewrelevantrulesofthumbtakenfrom Will Shortz’s essay“HowtoSolve theNewYorkTimesCrosswordPuzzle”:

Beginwith theanswersyou’re surest of andbuild from there.However ill-definedyour interests, therearesome things you knowyou’d hate doing for aliving, and some thingsthat seem morepromising than others.That’sastart.

Don’t be afraid toguess. Like it or not,

there’sacertainamountof trial and errorinherent in the processof interest discovery.Unlike the answers tocrossword puzzles,there isn’t just onething you can do thatmight develop into apassion. There aremany. You don’t haveto find the “right” one,or even the “best” one—just a direction that

feels good. It can alsobe difficult to know ifsomething will be agood fituntilyou try itforawhile.

Don’tbeafraidtoerasean answer that isn’tworking out. At somepoint, you may chooseto write your top-levelgoal in indelible ink,but until you know forsure,workinpencil.

If, on the other hand, youalreadyhaveagoodsenseofwhat you enjoy spendingyour time doing, it’s time todevelop your interest. Afterdiscovery comesdevelopment.

Remember that interestsmust be triggered again andagainandagain.Findwaystomake that happen. And havepatience.Thedevelopmentofinterests takes time. Keepasking questions, and let the

answers to those questionslead you to more questions.Continue to dig. Seek outother people who share yourinterests. Sidle up to anencouraging mentor.Whateveryourage,overtimeyour role as a learner willbecome a more active andinformed one. Over a periodofyears,yourknowledgeandexpertise will grow, andalongwithityourconfidenceandcuriositytoknowmore.

Finally, if you’ve beendoing somethingyou like forafewyearsandstillwouldn’tquite call it a passion, see ifyou can deepen yourinterests. Since novelty iswhatyourbraincraves,you’llbe tempted to move on tosomething new, and thatcouldbewhatmakesthemostsense. However, if you wanttostayengagedformorethana fewyears inany endeavor,you’ll need to find a way to

enjoythenuancesthatonlyatrue aficionado canappreciate. “The old in thenew is what claims theattention,” said WilliamJames. “The old with aslightlynewturn.”

In sum, the directive tofollowyourpassionisnotbadadvice.Butwhatmaybeevenmore useful is to understandhow passions are fostered inthefirstplace.

Chapter7

PRACTICE

Inoneofmyearliestresearchstudies, I found that grittierkids at the National SpellingBeepracticedmorethantheir

lessgrittycompetitors.Theseextra hours of practice, inturn, explained their superiorperformance in finalcompetition.

Thisfindingmadealotofsense.Asamath teacher, I’dobserved a huge range ineffort among my students.Some kids spent, quiteliterally,zerominutesaweekon their homework; othersstudied for hours a day.Considering all the studies

showing that gritty peopletypically stick with theircommitments longer thanothers, it seemed like themajor advantage of grit was,simply,moretimeontask.

At the same time, I couldthinkofalotofpeoplewho’dracked up decades ofexperience in their jobs butnevertheless seemed tostagnateatamiddlinglevelofcompetence. I’m sure youcan, too. Think about it. Do

youknowanyonewho’sbeendoing something for a long,longtime—maybetheirentireprofessional lives—and yetthe best you can say of theirskill is that they’re prettymuch okay and not badenough to fire? As acolleague of mine likes tojoke:somepeopleget twentyyears of experience, whileothers get one year ofexperience . . . twenty timesinarow.

Kaizen is Japanese forresisting the plateau ofarrested development. Itsliteral translation is:“continuousimprovement.”Awhileback,theideagotsometractioninAmericanbusinessculturewhenitwastoutedasthe core principle behindJapan’sspectacularlyefficientmanufacturing economy.After interviewing dozensanddozensofgritparagons,Ican tell you that they all

exude kaizen. There are noexceptions.

Likewise,inherinterviewswith “mega successful”people, journalist HesterLacey has noticed that all ofthem demonstrate a strikingdesire to excel beyond theiralready remarkable level ofexpertise: “An actor mightsay, ‘Imayneverplaya roleperfectly, but Iwant to do itaswellasIpossiblycan.Andineveryrole, Iwant tobring

something new. I want todevelop.’Awritermightsay,‘IwanteverybookIdotobebetterthanthelast.’

“It’s a persistent desire todo better,” Hester explained.“It’s the opposite of beingcomplacent. But it’s apositive state of mind, not anegativeone.It’snotlookingbackward withdissatisfaction. It’s lookingforward and wanting togrow.”

My interview research mademewonderwhethergritisnotjust about quantity of timedevoted to interests, but alsoqualityoftime.Notjustmoretime on task, but also bettertimeontask.

I started readingeverythingIcouldabouthowskillsdevelop.

Soon enough, this led meto the doorstep of cognitivepsychologist Anders

Ericsson. Ericsson has spenthis career studying howexperts acquire world-classskills. He’s studied Olympicathletes, chess grandmasters,renowned concert pianists,prima ballerinas, PGAgolfers, Scrabble champions,and expert radiologists. Thelistgoeson.

Putitthisway:Ericssonisthe world expert on worldexperts.

Below,I’vedrawnagraphthat summarizes whatEricsson’s learned. If youtrack the development ofinternationally renownedperformers, you invariablyfind that their skill improvesgraduallyoveryears.Astheyget better, their rate ofimprovement slows. Thisturnsout tobe true for allofus.Themoreyouknowaboutyourfield,theslighterwillbeyour improvement from one

daytothenext.

That there’s a learningcurve for skill developmentisn’t surprising. But thetimescale on which that

development happens is. InoneofEricsson’sstudies, thevery best violinists at aGerman music academyaccumulated about tenthousand hours of practiceover ten years beforeachieving elite levels ofexpertise. By comparison,less accomplished studentsaccumulated about half asmuch practice over the sameperiod.

Perhaps not socoincidentally, the dancerMartha Graham declared, “Ittakesabouttenyearstomakeamature dancer.”More thana century ago, psychologistsstudying telegraph operatorsobserved that reachingcomplete fluency in Morsecodewas rarebecauseof the“many years of hardapprenticeship” required.How many years? “Ourevidence,” the researchers

concluded,“is that itrequiresten years to make athoroughly seasoned pressdispatcher.”

If you’ve read Ericsson’soriginal research, you knowthat ten thousand hours ofpracticespreadovertenyearsisjustaroughaverage.Someof the musicians he studiedreached the high-water markof expertise before that, andsomeafter.Butthere’sagoodreason why “the ten-

thousand-hour rule” and “theten-year-rule” have goneviral. They give you avisceral sense of the scale ofthe required investment. Nota few hours, not dozens, notscores, not hundreds.Thousands and thousands ofhours of practice over yearsandyearsandyears.

The really crucial insight ofEricsson’s research, though,

is not that experts log morehoursofpractice.Rather, it’sthat experts practicedifferently.Unlikemostofus,expertsareloggingthousandsupon thousands of hours ofwhatEricssoncallsdeliberatepractice.

IsuspectedEricssoncouldprovideanswersastowhy,ifpractice is so important,experience doesn’t alwayslead to excellence. So Idecided to ask him about it,

using myself as a primeexample.

“Look,ProfessorEricsson,I’ve been jogging about anhour a day, several days aweek, since I was eighteen.And I’m not a second fasterthan I everwas. I’ve run forthousands of hours, and itdoesn’t look like I’manywhereclosetomakingtheOlympics.”

“That’s interesting,” hereplied.“MayIaskyouafew

questions?”“Sure.”“Do you have a specific

goalforyourtraining?”“Tobehealthy?Tofitinto

myjeans?”“Ah,yes.Butwhenyougo

forarun,doyouhaveatargetin terms of the pace you’dlike to keep? Or a distancegoal?Inotherwords,istherea specific aspect of yourrunning you’re trying toimprove?”

“Um,no.Iguessnot.”Then he asked what I

thought about while I wasrunning.

“Oh,youknow,I listentoNPR. Sometimes I thinkaboutthethingsIneedtogetdone that day. I might planwhattomakefordinner.”

Then he verified that Iwasn’t keeping track of myruns in any systematic way.No diary of my pace, or mydistance,or theroutesI took,

myendingheart rate,orhowmany intervals I’d sprintedinsteadofjogged.WhywouldI need to do that?Therewasno variety to my routine.Everyrunwaslikethelast.

“I assume you don’t haveacoach?”

Ilaughed.“Ah,”hepurred.“IthinkI

understand. You aren’timprovingbecauseyou’renotdoingdeliberatepractice.”

Thisishowexpertspractice:First, they set a stretch

goal, zeroing in on just onenarrowaspectoftheiroverallperformance. Rather thanfocusonwhattheyalreadydowell, experts strive toimprovespecificweaknesses.They intentionally seek outchallenges they can’t yetmeet. Olympic gold medalswimmer Rowdy Gaines, forexample, said, “At everypractice, I would try to beat

myself.Ifmycoachgavemeten 100s one day and askedmetohold1:15,thenthenextday when he gave me ten100s, I’d try to hold 1:14.”IVirtuosoviolistRobertoDíazdescribes “working to findyour Achilles’ heel—thespecific aspect of the musicthatneedsproblemsolving.”

Then, with undividedattention and great effort,experts strive to reach theirstretch goal. Interestingly,

many choose to do so whilenobody’s watching.Basketball great KevinDurant has said, “I probablyspend70 percent ofmy timeby myself, working on mygame, just trying to fine-tuneevery single piece of mygame.”Likewise, the amountof time musicians devote topracticing alone is a muchbetter predictor of howquickly they develop than

time spent practicing withothermusicians.

As soon as possible,experts hungrily seekfeedback on how they did.Necessarily, much of thatfeedback is negative. Thismeans that experts are moreinterested in what they didwrong—so they can fix it—thanwhattheydidright.Theactive processing of thisfeedback isasessentialas itsimmediacy.

Here’s how UlrikChristensen learned thislesson. Christensen is aphysician-turned-entrepreneur whose adaptivelearning software is designedaround the principles ofdeliberatepractice.Oneofhisearly projects was a virtualreality game that teachesdoctors the proper handlingof urgent, complex cardiacconditions such as strokesandheartattacks.Duringone

training session, he foundhimself alone with aphysicianwhoseemedunabletofinish.

“I couldn’t figure it out,”Christensen told me. “Thisguy wasn’t stupid, but afterhoursofdetailedfeedbackonwhat he’d done wrong, hestill wasn’t getting the rightanswers. Everyone else hadgone home, and there wewere, stuck.” Exasperated,Christensen stopped him just

before he got the next roundof feedback. “Time-out,”Christensen said. “What youjust did, treating this patient,is thereanythingyoudidjustnow where you were indoubt? Anything where youweren’t sure it met the newguidelines?”

The doctor thought amoment and then listeddecisions he’d been certainabout; then he named a fewchoices about which he was

less sure. In other words, hereflected for a moment onwhat he knew and what hedidn’t.

Christensen nodded,listening,andwhenthedoctorwas finished, he let him seethe computer screenwith thesame feedback that had beendisplayed a dozen timesbefore. On the next trial, thedoctorexecutedtheprocedurecorrectly.

And after feedback, thenwhat?

Thenexpertsdoitalloveragain, and again, and again.Until they have finallymasteredwhattheysetouttodo.Untilwhatwasastrugglebefore is now fluent andflawless. Until consciousincompetence becomesunconsciouscompetence.

In the story of the doctorwhofinallytookamomenttothink about what he was

doing, Christensen kept thepracticegoinguntilthedoctorwas doing the procedurewithout any errors at all.After four consecutive,perfectly correct repetitions,Christensen said, “Good job.We’re donewith this for theday.”

And . . . thenwhat?Whatfollows mastery of a stretchgoal?

Thenexperts start alloveragainwithanewstretchgoal.

One by one, these subtlerefinements add up todazzlingmastery.

Deliberate practice was firststudied in chess players andthen in musicians andathletes.Ifyou’renotachessplayer, musician, or athlete,you might be wonderingwhetherthegeneralprinciplesofdeliberatepracticeapplytoyou.

Without hesitation, I cantell you the answer: YES.Even the most complex andcreative of human abilitiescan be broken down into itscomponent skills, each ofwhich can be practiced,practiced,practiced.

For example, deliberatepractice is how BenjaminFranklindescribed improvinghis writing. In hisautobiography, Franklindescribes collecting the very

best essays in his favoritemagazine, the Spectator. Heread and reread them, takingnotes, and then he hid theoriginals in a drawer. Next,Franklin rewrote the essays.“Then I compared mySpectator with the original,discoveredsomeofmyfaults,andcorrectedthem.”Likethemodern-day experts Ericssonstudies,Franklinzeroedinonspecific weaknesses anddrilled them relentlessly. For

instance, to improve hisability to make logicalarguments, Franklin wouldjumble his notes on essaysand then attempt toput theminasensibleorder:“Thiswasto teach me method in thearrangementofthethoughts.”Likewise, to enhance hiscommand of language,Franklin practiced, over andover again, the translation ofprose into poetry and poetryintoprose.

Franklin’swittyaphorismsmake it hard to believe hewasn’ta“natural”writerfromtheverystart.Butperhapsweshould let Franklin himselfhave the last word on thematter: There are no gainswithoutpains.

But what if you’re not awriter,either?

Ifyou’reinbusiness,listento what management guruPeter Drucker said after alifetime of advising CEOs.

Effective management“demandsdoingcertain—andfairly simple—things. Itconsistsofasmallnumberofpractices....”

If you’re a surgeon,considerwhatAtulGawandehas said: “People oftenassumethatyouhavetohavegreat hands to become asurgeon, but it’s not true.”What’s most important,Gawande said, is “practicing

this one difficult thing dayandnightforyearsonend.”

If you want to break aworld record, as magicianDavid Blaine did when heheldhisbreathunderwaterforseventeenminutes,watch hisTED talk. At the very end,the man who can controlevery aspect of hisphysiology breaks down,sobbing:“Asamagician,Itryto show things topeople thatseemimpossible.AndI think

magic, whether I’m holdingmybreathorshufflingadeckofcards,isprettysimple.It’spractice, it’s training, andit’s”—he sobs—“experimenting”—he sobsagain—“while pushingthrough the pain to be thebest that Icanbe.And that’swhatmagicistome....”

After getting to know eachother a little better, Ericsson

and I designed a study todiscover how, exactly, grittykids triumph at the NationalSpellingBee.

Ialreadyknewthatgrittierspellers accumulated morepracticeandperformedbetterthan their less grittycompetitors. What I didn’tknowwaswhether deliberatepractice was driving theseskill improvements, andwhether it was grit that

enabledspellerstodomoreofit.

With the help ofEricsson’sstudents,webeganby interviewing spelling beefinaliststolearnwhatsortsofthingstheydidtoprepareforcompetition. In parallel, wepored through publishedbookson the topic, includingHow to Spell Like a Champby the bee’s own nationaldirector,PaigeKimble.

We learned that there arebasically three types ofactivities recommended byexperienced spellers, theirparents, and coaches: First,reading for pleasure andplaying word games likeScrabble. Second, gettingquizzedbyanotherpersonora computer program. Third,unassisted and solitaryspelling practice, includingmemorizing newwords fromthe dictionary, reviewing

wordsinaspellingnotebook,and committing to memoryLatin,Greek, andotherwordorigins. Only this thirdcategory of activity met thecriteriafordeliberatepractice.

Severalmonths before thefinal competition, spellerswere mailed questionnaires.In addition to theGrit Scale,weasked themtocompletealog in which they estimatedthehoursperweektheyspentonvarious spellingactivities.

We also asked them to ratehow it felt to do theseactivities—in terms ofenjoyment and effort—in themoment they were doingthem.

ThatMay,whenthefinalsaired on ESPN, AndersEricssonandIwerewatching.

Who took home thetrophy? A thirteen-year-oldgirl named Kerry Close. Itwasherfifthconsecutiveyearof competition, and from the

log she completed in ourstudy, I estimate she’daccumulated at least threethousand hours of spellingpractice. Kerry’s triumphantlastwordsatthemicrophone,articulated with confidenceand a smile, were:“Ursprache.U-R-S-P-R-A-C-H-E.Ursprache.”

“I’mstudyingashardas Ican for my last year—to goforit,”Kerrytoldajournalistwho’d been tracking her

preparations. “I’m trying tolearn words off the regularlist, to learn more obscurewords that have a chance ofcomingup.”Theyearbefore,the same journalist made theobservation that Kerry “doesmore word study by herself.She works with numerousspelling study guides, makeslistsofinterestingwordsfromher reading, and labors herwaythroughthedictionary.”

When we analyzed ourdata,wefirstconfirmedwhatI’d found the year before:grittier spellers practicedmorethanlessgrittyspellers.But the most importantfinding was that the type ofpractice matteredtremendously. Deliberatepractice predicted advancingto further rounds in finalcompetition far better thananyotherkindofpreparation.

When I share thesefindings with parents andstudents, I hasten to add thatthere are many, manylearning benefits to beingquizzed. Shining a light onwhatyouthinkyouknowbutactuallyhaven’tyetmasteredis one. Indeed, winner KerryClose later told me that sheusedquizzingtodiagnoseherweaknesses—to identifycertain words or types ofwords she consistently

misspelled so that she couldfocushereffortsonmasteringthem. In a sense, quizzingmay have been a necessaryprelude to doing moretargeted, more efficient,deliberatepractice.

What about reading forfun?Nada.Prettymuchallofthe kids in the NationalSpellingBeeareinterestedinlanguage, but there wasn’teven a hint of a relationshipbetween reading for fun,

which they all enjoyed, andspellingprowess.

Ifyou judgepracticebyhowmuch it improves your skill,then deliberate practice hasno rival. This lesson seemedto become increasingly cleartospellersastheyspentmoretime competing. With eachsuccessive year ofexperience, they spent moretime practicing deliberately.

The same trend was evenmore pronounced in themonth before the actualfinals, when the averagespeller was devoting tenhours per week to deliberatepractice.

If, however, you judgepracticebywhat it feels like,youmightcometoadifferentconclusion. On average,spellers rated deliberatepracticeassignificantlymoreeffortful, and significantly

less enjoyable, than anythingelse they did to prepare forcompetition. In contrast,spellers experienced readingbooks for pleasure andplaying word games likeScrabble as effortless and asenjoyable as “eating yourfavoritefood.”

A vivid—if somewhatmelodramatic—firsthanddescriptionofwhatdeliberatepractice can feel like comesfromdancerMarthaGraham:

“Dancingappearsglamorous,easy, delightful.But the pathto the paradise of thatachievementisnoteasierthananyother.Thereisfatiguesogreatthatthebodycrieseveninitssleep.Therearetimesofcomplete frustration. Therearedailysmalldeaths.”

Not everyone woulddescribe working outsidetheir comfort zone in suchextreme terms, but Ericssongenerallyfindsthatdeliberate

practice is experienced assupremely effortful. Asevidence that working at thefar edge of our skills withcomplete concentration isexhausting,hepointsoutthateven world-class performersat the peak of their careerscan only handle a maximumof one hour of deliberatepractice before needing abreak, and in total, can onlydo about three to five hoursofdeliberatepracticeperday.

It’salsorelevantthatmanyathletes and musicians takenapsaftertheirmostintensivetraining sessions.Why? Restand recovery may seem anobviousnecessityforathletes.Butnonathletessaymuchthesameabouttheirmostintenseexertions,suggestingthatitisthementalwork, asmuch asthe physical stresses, thatmakes deliberate practice sostrenuous. For instance,here’s how director Judd

Apatow describes making afilm: “Every day is anexperiment. Every scenemightnotworkandsoyou’reconcentrating—Is itworking?ShouldIgetanextralineforediting?WhatwouldIchangeif I had to, if I hated this inthree months, why would Ihate it? And you’reconcentrating and you’reexhausted. . . . It’s prettyintense.”

And, finally, world-classperformers who retire tendnot to keep up nearly thesame deliberate practiceschedule. If practice wasintrinsically pleasurable—enjoyable for its own sake—you’d expect them to keepdoingit.

TheyearafterEricssonandIbegan working together,Mihaly CsikszentmihalyiII

spent his summer at myuniversity as a scholar inresidence. Csikszentmihalyiis as eminent a psychologistas Ericsson, and both havedevoted their careers tostudying experts. But theiraccounts of world-classexpertise couldn’t be moredifferent.

For Csikszentmihalyi, thesignature experience ofexperts is flow, a state ofcomplete concentration “that

leads to a feeling ofspontaneity.” Flow isperforming at high levels ofchallenge and yet feeling“effortless,” like “you don’thavetothinkabout it,you’rejustdoingit.”

For example, an orchestraconductor toldCsikszentmihalyi:

You are in an ecstaticstatetosuchapointthatyou feel as though you

almost don’t exist. . . .My hand seems devoidof myself, and I havenothing to do withwhat’shappening.Ijustsit there watching in astate of awe andwonderment. And [themusic]justflowsoutbyitself.

And a competitive figureskatergavethisdescriptionoftheflowstate:

Itwasjustoneof thoseprogramsthatclicked.Imean everything wentright, everything feltgood...it’sjustsucharush,likeyoucouldfeelit could go on and onand on, like you don’twant it to stop becauseit’s going so well. It’salmost as though youdon’t have to think,everything goes

automatically withoutthinking....

Csikszentmihalyi hasgathered similar first-personreports from hundreds ofexperts. In every fieldstudied,optimalexperienceisdescribedinsimilarterms.

Ericsson is skeptical thatdeliberatepracticecouldeverfeel as enjoyable as flow. Inhis view, “skilled people cansometimes experience highly

enjoyable states (‘flow’ asdescribed by MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, 1990)during their performance.These states are, however,incompatible with deliberatepractice. . . .”Why?Becausedeliberatepracticeiscarefullyplanned, and flow isspontaneous. Becausedeliberate practice requiresworking where challengesexceedskill,andflowismostcommonly experiencedwhen

challenge and skill are inbalance. And, mostimportant, because deliberatepractice is exceptionallyeffortful, and flow is, bydefinition,effortless.

Csikszentmihalyi haspublisheda contraryopinion:“Researchers who study thedevelopment of talents haveconcluded that to learn anycomplex skill well takesabout 10,000 hours ofpractice....Andthepractice

can be very boring andunpleasant.Whilethisstateofaffairsisalltoooftentrue,theconsequences are by nomeans self-evident.”Csikszentmihalyi goes on toshare a personal story thathelpsexplainhisperspective.In Hungary, where he grewup,onthetallwoodengateatthe entrance to the localelementary school, hung asign that read: The roots ofknowledge are bitter, but its

fruits are sweet. This alwaysstruck him as deeply untrue:“Even when the learning ishard,” he writes, “it is notbitterwhenyoufeel that it isworth having, that you canmasterit,thatpracticingwhatyoulearnedwillexpresswhoyouareandhelpyouachievewhatyoudesire.”

Sowho’sright?

As fatewouldhave it, thesame summerCsikszentmihalyi wasvisiting,Ericssonwasalso intown. I arranged for them todebate the topic of “passionandworld-classperformance”before an audience of abouteightyeducators.

Whentheysatdownatthetable in the front of thelecturehall,Irealizedthatthetwo men are near-perfectdoppelgängers. Both are tall

and solidly built. Both areEuropeanbybirth,withslightaccents that somehow makethem seem even moreeminent and scholarly. Bothsport close-cropped beards,and though onlyCsikszentmihalyi’s has goneall white, either man wouldbeagoodchoiceifyouwerelooking for someone to playSantaClaus.

On thedayof thepanel, Iwas a little anxious. I don’t

like conflict—evenwhen it’snotmine.

It turns out I had nothingto worry about. Theproponents of deliberatepractice versus flow behavedas perfect gentlemen. Noinsults were exchanged.There wasn’t even a hint ofdisrespect.

Instead, Ericsson andCsikszentmihalyisatshoulderto shoulder, each taking themicrophonewhenitwastheir

turn, each methodicallysummarizing decades ofresearch supporting starklycontrasting perspectives.When one was speaking, theother appeared to listenintently. And then themicrophone would changehands. So it went for ninetyminutes.Doexpertssuffer,Iwanted

to know. Or are theyecstatic?

Somehow, the dialogue Ihoped would resolve thisconundrumplayedoutastwoseparate presentations—oneondeliberatepracticeandtheother on flow—splicedtogether.

When it was all over, Ifound myself a littledisappointed. It wasn’t thedrama that I missed, it wasthe resolution. I still didn’thave an answer to myquestion: Is expert

performance a matter ofarduous and not-so-fun-in-the-moment exertion, or canitbeeffortlessandjoyous?

For years after thatanticlimactic summit, I readand thought about the issue.Finally, because I neverdeveloped theconviction thatmight prompt me to rejectonesideandtaketheother,Idecided to collect somedata.

I asked thousands of adultswho’d taken the Grit Scaleonline to take a secondquestionnaire assessing flow.Theparticipants in this studyincluded men and women ofall ages representing allmannerofprofessions:actors,bakers, bank tellers, barbers,dentists, doctors, policeofficers, secretaries, teachers,waiters, and welders . . . tonamejustafew.

Across these diverseoccupations, grittier adultsreported experiencing moreflow,notless.Inotherwords,flowandgritgohandinhand.

Putting together what Ilearned from this survey, thefindingsonNationalSpellingBee finalists, and adecadelong inspection of therelevant research literature,I’ve come to the followingconclusion:Gritty people domore deliberate practice and

experience more flow.There’snocontradictionhere,for two reasons. First,deliberate practice is abehavior, and flow is anexperience. Anders Ericssonis talking aboutwhat expertsdo; Mihaly Csikszentmihalyiis talking about how expertsfeel. Second, you don’t haveto be doing deliberatepractice and experiencingflow at the same time. And,in fact, I think that for most

experts, they rarely gotogether.

Moreresearchisneededtosettlethequestion,andinthenext few years, I’m hopingthat Ericsson,Csikszentmihalyi, and I cancollaboratetodoexactlythat.

Currently,myviewis thatthe primary motivation fordoing effortful deliberatepractice is to improve yourskill. You’re concentratingone hundred percent, and

you’ve deliberately set thelevel of challenge to exceedyour current level of skill.You’re in “problem solving”mode, analyzing everythingyoudotobringitclosertotheideal—thegoalyousetat thebeginning of the practicesession. You’re gettingfeedback, and a lot of thatfeedbackisaboutwhatyou’redoing wrong, and you’reusing that feedback to makeadjustmentsandtryagain.

The motivation thatpredominates during flow, incontrast, is entirely different.Theflowstate is intrinsicallypleasurable. You don’t carewhether you’re improvingsome narrow aspect of yourskill set. And though you’reconcentrating one hundredpercent, you’re not at all in“problem solving” mode.You’re not analyzing whatyou’re doing; you’re justdoing. You’re getting

feedback, but because thelevel of challenge just meetsyour current level of skill,that feedback is telling youthat you’re doing a lot right.You feel like you’re incomplete control, becauseyouare.You’refloating.Youlose trackof time.Nomatterhow fast you’re running orhow intensely you’rethinking, when you’re inflow, everything feelseffortless.

In other words, deliberatepractice is for preparation,andflowisforperformance.

Let’s return to swimmerRowdyGaines.

Gaines told me he oncetabulated how much practiceit took to develop thestamina, technique,confidence, and judgment towin an Olympic goldmedal.In the eight-year periodleadinguptothe1984games,he swam, in increments of

fifty-yardlaps,atleasttwentythousandmiles.Of course, ifyou add in the years beforeand after, the odometer goesevenhigher.

“I swam around theworld,”hetoldmewithasoftlaugh, “for a race that lastedforty-nineseconds.”

“Did you enjoy thosemiles?”Iasked.“Imean,didyoulovepracticing?”

“I’m not going to lie,” hereplied. “I never really

enjoyedgoingtopractice,andI certainly didn’t enjoy itwhile I was there. In fact,there were brief moments,walkingtothepoolatfourorfour-thirty in themorning,orsometimes when I couldn’ttakethepain,whenI’dthink,‘God,isthisworthit?’ ”

“Sowhydidn’tyouquit?”“It’svery simple,”Rowdy

said. “It’s because I lovedswimming. . . . I had apassionforcompeting,forthe

result of training, for thefeelingofbeing in shape, forwinning, for traveling, formeeting friends. I hatedpractice, but I had an overallpassionforswimming.”

Olympic gold medalistrower Mads Rasmussenoffered a similar account ofhis motivation: “It’s abouthardwork.Whenit’snotfun,you dowhat you need to doanyway. Because when youachieveresults,it’sincredibly

fun. You get to enjoy the‘Aha’ at the end, and that iswhatdragsyoualongalotoftheway.”

The idea of years ofchallenge-exceeding-skillpractice leading to momentsof challenge-meeting-skillflow explains why eliteperformance can look soeffortless: in a sense, it is.Here’sanexample.Eighteen-year-old swimmer KatieLedecky recently broke her

own world record in the1,500-meter freestyle.Improbably, history wasmade during a preliminaryround at a competition inKazan,Russia.“Tobehonest,it felt pretty easy,” she saidafterward.“Iwassorelaxed.”But it’s not flow to whichLedecky credits her speed:“Breaking that record istestament to thework I haveput in and the shape I am inrightnow.”

Indeed, Ledecky has beenswimming since shewas six.She’s developed a reputationfor working fiercely hard atevery single practice,sometimestrainingwithmaleswimmers for addedchallenge. Three years ago,Ledecky described blankingoutalittlebitintheracethatwonherthegoldmedalintheeight-hundred-meterfreestyle.“Onethingintermsof swimming that people

don’t really know,” she latersaid,“isthattheworkyouputin[during]practiceshowsoffinthemeet.”

Here’smyownstoryofhoursofeffortfuldeliberatepracticeleading to moments ofeffortless flow. A few yearsago, a producer named JulietBlake called to ask if I’d beinterested in giving a six-

minute TED talk. “Sure,” Isaid.“Soundsfun!”

“Wonderful! After youhave your talk ready, we’llhave a video conferencewhere wewatch you give it,and we’ll give you somefeedback. You know,somethinglikearehearsal.”Hmmm, “feedback” you

say? Something other thanapplause? More slowly, Isaid, “Sure . . . that soundsfine.”

I prepared a talk and onthe appointed day connectedwith Juliet and her boss, theleader of TED, ChrisAnderson. Staring into thewebcam, I deliveredmy talkin the allotted time. Then Iwaitedformyeffusivepraise.

If therewas any, Imissedit.

Instead, what I got wasChris telling me he’d gottenlost in all my scientificjargon. Too many syllables.

Too many slides. And notenough clear, understandableexamples. Further, how I’dcome to this whole line ofresearch—my road fromteacher to psychologist—wasunclear and unsatisfying.Juliet agreed. She added thatI’d managed to tell a storywith absolutely zerosuspense. The way I’ddesigned my talk was liketelling the punch line of ajokeattheverybeginning.

Ouch! That bad, huh?Juliet and Chris are busypeople,andIknewIwouldn’tgetasecondchanceatgettingcoached. So I forced myselfto listen. Afterward, Ipondered who knew betterhow to give a great talk ongrit:themorme?

It didn’t take long torealize that they were theexperiencedstorytellers,andIwas the scientistwhoneeded

feedback to make her talkbetter.

So I rewrote the talk,practiced in front of myfamily,andgotmorenegativefeedback. “Why do you say‘Um’all thetime?”myolderdaughter, Amanda, asked.“Yeah, why do you do that,Mom?” my youngerdaughter, Lucy, chimed in.“Andyoubiteyour lipwhenyou’re nervous. Don’t dothat.It’sdistracting.”

More practice. Morerefinements.

Then the fateful dayarrived.Igaveatalkthatboreonly a weak resemblance tothe one I’d originallyproposed.Itwasbetter.A lotbetter. Watch that talk andyou’llseemeinflow.SearchYouTube for the manyrehearsals that preceded it—or,for thatmatter,footageofanyone doing effortful,mistake-ridden, repetitive

deliberate practice—and myguess is you’ll come upempty.

Nobody wants to showyou the hours and hours ofbecoming. They’d rathershow the highlight of whatthey’vebecome.

After it was all over, Irushed to meet my husbandand mother-in-law, who’dbeenintheaudiencethatdayto cheer me on. As soon asthey were within earshot, I

calledoutpreemptively:“Justthe effusive praise, please!”Andtheydelivered.

Lately,I’vebeenaskinggrittyperformers and their coachesin diverse fields to elaborateon how it feels to dodeliberate practice. Manyagree with dancer MarthaGrahamthatattemptingtodowhat you cannot yet do is

frustrating, uncomfortable,andevenpainful.

However, some havesuggested that, in fact, theexperience of deliberatepractice can be extremelypositive—notjustinthelong-termbut in themoment.Funisn’t quite theword they useto describe deliberatepractice, but neither isbitter.And, too, top performerspoint out that the alternativeto deliberate practice—

mindlessly “going throughthe motions” withoutimprovement—canbeitsownformofsuffering.

I puzzled over theseobservations for awhile, andthenIdecidedtolookbackatthe diary data that Ericssonand I had collected from theNational Spelling Beefinalists. While I knew thatspellers rated deliberatepracticeasespeciallyeffortfuland unenjoyable, I also

recalledthattherewasquiteaspreadaroundtheseaverages.In other words, not allspellers had the same exactexperience.

Ilookedtoseehowgrittiercompetitors experienceddeliberatepractice.Comparedto their less passionate, lesspersevering competitors,grittier spellers not onlylogged more hours ofdeliberatepractice,theyrateditasbothmoreenjoyableand

more effortful. That’s right.Grittierkidsreportedworkingharder than other kids whendoing deliberate practice but,at the same time, said theyenjoyed it more than otherkids,too.

It’s hard to know for surewhat tomakeof this finding.Onepossibilityis thatgrittierkids spend more time doingdeliberate practice, and that,overtheyears,theydevelopataste for hard work as they

experience the rewards oftheir labor.This is the “learnto love the burn” story.Alternatively, itcouldbethatgrittier kids enjoy the hardwork more, and that getsthemtodomoreofit.Thisisthe “some people enjoy achallenge”story.

I can’t tell you which ofthese accounts is accurate,and if Ihad toguess, I’dsaythere’ssometruthtoboth.Aswe’ll learn in chapter 11,

there’s solid scientificevidence that the subjectiveexperience of effort—what itfeels like to work hard—canand does change when, forexample,effortisrewardedinsome way. I’ve watched myowndaughters learn toenjoyworkinghardmore than theyused to, and I can say thesameformyself.

On the other hand, KatieLedecky’s coach, Bruce

Gemmell, says she’s alwaysrelishedatoughchallenge.

“There’sa littlevideoclipthat Katie’s parents have ofoneofherfirstswimmeets,”Bruce toldme. “It’s just onelap. She’s six years old. Sheswimsafewstrokesandthengrabsontothelaneline.Sheswimsafewmorestrokesandgrabs on to the lane lineagain.Finally,shegetstotheend of the pool and gets outofthewater.Dad’sfilmingit,

and he asks, ‘Tell me aboutyour first race.Howwas it?’She goes, ‘Great!’ A fewsecondslater,sheadds,‘Thatwas hard!’ And she’sbeaming—asmilefromeartoear. That says it all rightthere. She has that attitudewitheverythingwedo.”

In the same conversation,Bruce told me that Katiewillingly does moredeliberate practice thananyonehe’severmet.“We’ll

try a drill that she’s horribleat—something where she’llstartoffinthepoorestthirdofthe group doing it. Then I’llcatch her sneaking practicetime to get better at it, sowithin some period of time,she’s one of the best in thegroup.Someotherswimmers,well, theytryandtheyfailatit, and I have to cajole andbegthemtotryitagain.”

If deliberate practice canbe “awesome,” can it ever

feellikeeffortlessflow?When I asked spelling

champ Kerry Close if she’dever experienced the state offlow during deliberatepractice, she said, “No, theonly time I could say that Iwas in flow was when Iwasn’t being challenged.”Atthe same time, she describeddeliberate practice asgratifying in its own way:“Someofmymostrewardingstudying,” she toldme, “was

onmyown,forcingmyselftobreak down a big task intomultiple parts and getting itdone.”

As of now, there isn’tenough research to saywhether deliberate practicecan be experienced aseffortless flow. My guess isthatdeliberatepracticecanbedeeply gratifying, but in adifferent way than flow. Inother words, there aredifferent kinds of positive

experience: the thrill ofgetting better is one, and theecstasyofperformingatyourbestisanother.

Other than getting yourself aterrific coach, mentor, orteacher, how can youget themost out of deliberatepracticeand—becauseyou’veearned it—experience moreflow?

First,knowthescience.

Each of the basicrequirements of deliberatepracticeisunremarkable:

•Aclearlydefinedstretchgoal

•Fullconcentrationandeffort

•Immediateandinformativefeedback

•Repetitionwithreflectionandrefinement

But how many hours ofpractice do most people

accomplish that checks allfour of these boxes? Myguessisthatmanypeoplearecruising through life doingprecisely zero hours of dailydeliberatepractice.

Even supermotivatedpeople who’re working toexhaustionmaynot bedoingdeliberate practice. Forinstance, when a Japaneserowing teaminvitedOlympicgold medalist MadsRasmussen to come visit, he

was shocked at how manyhours of practice theirathleteswerelogging.It’snothours of brute-forceexhaustion you’re after, hetold them. It’s high-quality,thoughtful training goalspursued, just as Ericsson’sresearchhasshown,forjustafewhoursaday,tops.

Noa Kageyama, aperformance psychologist onthe faculty of the JuilliardSchool of Music, says he’s

been playing the violin sincehe was two but didn’t reallystart practicing deliberatelyuntilhewastwenty-two.Whynot? There was no lack ofmotivation—at one point,young Noa was takinglessons with four differentteachers and, literally,commuting to three differentcities to work with them all.Really, the problemwas justthat Noa didn’t know better.Oncehediscoveredtherewas

an actual science of practice—an approach that wouldimprove his skills moreefficiently—both the qualityof his practice and hissatisfactionwith his progressskyrocketed. He’s nowdevoted himself to sharingthat knowledge with othermusicians.

A few years ago, mygraduate student LaurenEskreis-Winkler and Idecided to teach kids about

deliberate practice. We puttogether self-guided lessons,complete with cartoons andstories, illustrating keydifferences betweendeliberate practice and lesseffective ways of studying.We explained that no mattertheir initial talent, greatperformers in every domainimprove through deliberatepractice. We let studentsknow that hidden behindevery effortless performance

on YouTube are hours andhours of unrecorded,invisible-to-outsiders,challenging, effortful,mistake-ridden practice. Wetold them that trying to dothings they can’t yet do,failing, and learning whattheyneed tododifferently isexactly the way expertspractice. We helped themunderstand that feelings offrustration aren’t necessarilya sign they’re on the wrong

track. On the contrary, wetold them that wishing theydid thingsbetter isextremelycommonduring learning.Wethen tested this interventionagainst different kinds ofplacebocontrolactivities.

What we found is thatstudents can change the waythey thinkaboutpracticeandachievement. For instance,asked what advice they’dgive to another student onhow to succeed in school,

students who learned aboutdeliberatepracticeweremorelikely to recommend “focuson your weaknesses” and“concentrate one hundredpercent.” Given the choicebetween doing deliberatepractice in math versusentertaining themselves withsocial media and gamingwebsites, they elected to domore deliberate practice.And, finally, in the case ofthosewho’dbeenperforming

at a below-average level inclass, learning aboutdeliberate practice increasedtheirreportcardgrades.

Whichleadstomysecondsuggestion for getting themost out of deliberatepractice:Makeitahabit.

By this Imean, figureoutwhenandwhereyou’remostcomfortable doing deliberatepractice. Once you’ve madeyour selection, do deliberatepractice then and there every

day. Why? Because routinesareagodsendwhen it comesto doing something hard. Amountainof research studies,including a few of my own,show that when you have ahabitofpracticingatthesametime and in the same placeeveryday,youhardlyhavetothink about getting started.Youjustdo.

ThebookDailyRitualsbyMason Currey describes adayinthelifeofonehundred

sixty-one artists, scientists,and other creators. If youlookforaparticularrule,likeAlwaysdrinkcoffee,orNeverdrinkcoffee,orOnlywork inyourbedroom,orNeverworkin your bedroom, you won’tfindit.Butifinsteadyouask,“Whatdothesecreatorshavein common?” you’ll find theanswerrightinthetitle:dailyrituals.Intheirownparticularway, all the experts in thisbookconsistentlyputinhours

and hours of solitarydeliberate practice. Theyfollow routines. They’recreaturesofhabit.

For instance, cartoonistCharles Schulz, who drewalmost eighteen thousandPeanuts comic strips in hiscareer, rose at dawn,showered, shaved, and hadbreakfast with his children.He then drove his kids toschoolandwenttohisstudio,where he worked through

lunch(ahamsandwichandaglass of milk) until hischildren returned fromschool. Writer MayaAngelou’s routinewas to getup and have coffee with herhusband, and then, by sevenin the morning, deliverherselftoa“tinymean”hotelroom with no distractionsuntiltwointheafternoon.

Eventually, if you keeppracticing in the same timeand place, what once took

conscious thought to initiatebecomesautomatic.“Thereisno more miserable humanbeing,” observed WilliamJames,thantheoneforwhom“thebeginningofeverybitofwork”mustbedecidedaneweachday.

I myself learned thatlesson quickly. I now knowwhat Joyce Carol Oatesmeant when she likenedcompletingthefirstdraftofabook to “pushing a peanut

across a very dirty kitchenfloor with your nose.” Sowhat’d I do? Here’s thesimple daily plan that helpedmegetgoing:Whenit’seightinthemorningandI’minmyhome office, I will rereadyesterday’s draft. This habitdidn’t make the writingeasier, per se, but it suremadeiteasiertogetstarted.

My third suggestion forgetting the most out ofdeliberate practice is to

change the way youexperienceit.

Around the time I wasrevisiting my NationalSpelling Bee data anddiscovering how much moreenjoyable the experience ofdeliberate practice is forgrittier competitors, I calledupaswimmingcoachnamedTerry Laughlin. Terry hascoached every level ofswimmer, from completenewbie to Olympic

champion, and brokenrecordshimselfinopen-waterMasters swimming. I wasparticularly interested in hisperspectivebecausehe’slongadvocated what he calls a“total immersion” approachto swimming—essentially arelaxed, mindful approach toglidingthroughthewater.

“Deliberate practice canfeel wonderful,” Terry toldme.“Ifyoutry,youcanlearnto embrace challenge rather

than fear it. You can do allthethingsyou’resupposedtodo during deliberate practice—a clear goal, feedback, allof it—and still feel greatwhileyou’redoingit.

“It’s all about in-the-moment self-awarenesswithout judgment,” hecontinued. “It’s aboutrelieving yourself of thejudgmentthatgetsinthewayofenjoyingthechallenge.”

After hanging up withTerry, I began to think aboutthe fact that infants andtoddlers spend most of theirtime trying to do things theycan’t, again and again—andyet they don’t seemespecially embarrassed oranxious.Nopain,nogainisarule that doesn’t seem toapplytothepreschoolset.

Elena Bodrova andDeborah Leong,psychologists who’ve

devoted their careers tostudying how children learn,agree that learning frommistakes is something babiesandtoddlersdon’tmindatall.Watch a baby struggle to situp,oratoddlerlearntowalk:you’ll see one error afteranother,failureafterfailure,alot of challenge exceedingskill,alotofconcentration,alot of feedback, a lot oflearning. Emotionally? Well,they’re tooyoung to ask,but

very young children don’tseem tortured while they’retrying todo things theycan’tyetdo.

And then . . . somethingchanges. According to ElenaandDeborah,aroundthetimechildren enter kindergarten,theybegintonoticethattheirmistakes inspire certainreactionsingrown-ups.Whatdo we do? We frown. Ourcheeks flush a bit. We rushovertoourlittleonestopoint

out that they’ve donesomething wrong. Andwhat’s the lesson we’reteaching? Embarrassment.Fear. Shame. Coach BruceGemmell says that’s exactlywhathappens tomanyofhisswimmers:“Betweencoachesand parents and friends andthe media, they’ve learnedthat failing is bad, so theyprotect themselvesandwon’tstick their neck out and givetheirbesteffort.”

“Shame doesn’t help youfix anything,” Deborah toldme.

Sowhat’stobedone?Elena and Deborah ask

teachers to model emotion-free mistake making. Theyactually instruct teachers tocommit an error on purposeandthenletstudentsseethemsay,witha smile, “Oh,gosh,I thought there were fiveblocks in this pile! Let mecountagain!One...two...

three...four...five...six!Therearesixblocks!Great!Ilearned I need to touch eachblockasIcount!”

Whether you can makedeliberate practice as ecstaticas flow, I don’t know, but Idothinkyoucantrysayingtoyourself,andtoothers,“Thatwashard!Itwasgreat!”

I. This means swimming onehundredmeters inoneminute and

fifteen seconds, and then trying todo the same in one minute andfourteenseconds,andsoon.

II. Pronounced cheeks-sent-me-high. And for years, Mihaly hasgoneby“Mike.”

Chapter8

PURPOSE

Interest is one source ofpassion. Purpose—theintention to contribute to thewell-being of others—is

another.Thematurepassionsof gritty people depend onboth.

For some, purpose comesfirst. This is the only way Ican understand a paragon ofgrit like Alex Scott. Eversince Alex could remember,she’d been sick. Herneuroblastoma had beendiagnosed when she was ayear old. Shortly after herfourthbirthday,Alextoldhermother, “When I get out of

thehospital,Iwant tohavealemonade stand.” And shedid. She operated her firstlemonade stand before sheturned five, raising twothousand dollars for herdoctors to “help other kids,like they helped me.” WhenAlex passed away four yearslater, she’d inspired somanypeople to create their ownlemonade stands that she’draised more than a milliondollars. Alex’s family has

continued her legacy, and todate,Alex’sLemonadeStandFoundation has raised morethan one hundred milliondollarsforcancerresearch.

Alex was extraordinary.Butmostpeoplefirstbecomeattracted to things theyenjoyandonlylaterappreciatehowthesepersonalinterestsmightalso benefit others. In otherwords, the more commonsequenceistostartoutwitharelatively self-oriented

interest, then learn self-disciplined practice, and,finally, integrate that workwith an other-centeredpurpose.

The psychologistBenjaminBloomwas amongthe first to notice this three-phaseprogression.

Thirty years ago, whenBloom set out to interviewworld-class athletes, artists,mathematicians, andscientists,heknewhe’dlearn

something about how peoplereach the top of their fields.What he didn’t foresee wasthat he’d discover a generalmodeloflearningthatappliedto all the fields he studied.Despite superficialdifferences in theirupbringing and training, allthe extraordinary people inBloom’s study hadprogressed through threedistinct periods ofdevelopment. We discussed

whatBloomcalledthe“earlyyears”inchapter6oninterestand “the middle years” inchapter 7 on practice.We’venow come to the third, final,andlongestphaseinBloom’smodel—the “later years”—when,asheputit,“thelargerpurpose and meaning” ofwork finally becomesapparent.

When I talk togrit paragons,and they tell me that whatthey’repursuinghaspurpose,they mean something muchdeeper than mere intention.They’re not just goal-oriented; the nature of theirgoalsisspecial.

When I probe, asking,“Canyoutellmemore?Whatdo you mean?” theresometimesfollowsanearnest,stumblingstruggletoputhowthey feel into words. But

always—always—those nextsentences mention otherpeople. Sometimes it’s veryparticular (“my children,”“my clients,” “my students”)and sometimes quite abstract(“this country,” “the sport,”“science,” “society”).However they say it, themessageisthesame:thelongdaysandeveningsoftoil,thesetbacksanddisappointmentsand struggle, the sacrifice—all this is worth it because,

ultimately, their efforts paydividendstootherpeople.

At its core, the idea ofpurpose is the idea thatwhatwedomatterstopeopleotherthanourselves.

A precocious altruist likeAlex Scott is an easy-to-fathom example of other-centeredpurpose.

So is art activist JaneGolden, the grit paragon wemet in chapter 6. Interest inart led Jane to become a

muralist inLosAngelesaftergraduating from college. Inher late twenties, Jane wasdiagnosedwithlupusandtoldshe didn’t have long to live.“The news came as such ashock,”she toldme.“Itgaveme a new perspective onlife.” When Jane recoveredfromthedisease’smostacutesymptoms, she realized shewould outlive the doctors’initial predictions, but withchronicpain.

Moving back to herhometown of Philadelphia,she took over a small anti-graffiti program in themayor’s office and, over thenext three decades, grew itintooneof the largest publicartprogramsintheworld.

Now in her late fifties,Jane continues to work fromearly morning to late in theevening, six or seven days aweek. One colleague likensworkingwithhertorunninga

campaign office the nightbefore an election—exceptElection Day never comes.For Jane, those hourstranslate into more muralsandprograms,andthatmeansmoreopportunitiesforpeoplein the community to createandexperienceart.

When I asked Jane abouther lupus, she admitted,matter-of-factly,thatpainisaconstant companion. Sheoncetoldajournalist:“There

are moments when I cry. Ithink I just can’t do itanymore, push that boulderup the hill. But feeling sorryfor myself is pointless, so Ifind ways to get energized.”Why? Because her work isinteresting? That’s only thebeginning of Jane’smotivation. “Everything I dois in a spirit of service,” shetoldme. “I feel driven by it.It’s a moral imperative.”

Putting it more succinctly,shesaid:“Artsaveslives.”

Other grit paragons havetop-level goals that arepurposeful in less obviousways.

Renowned wine criticAntonioGalloni,forinstance,toldme:“Anappreciationforwine is something I’mpassionateaboutsharingwithother people. When I walkintoarestaurant,Iwanttosee

a beautiful bottle of wine oneverytable.”

Antonio says his missionis“tohelppeopleunderstandtheirownpalates.”Whenthathappens, he says, it’s like alightbulb goes off, and hewants “to make a millionlightbulbsgooff.”

So, while interest forAntonio came first—hisparents owned a food andwine shop while he wasgrowing up, and he “was

always fascinated by wine,even at a young age”—hispassion is very muchenhanced by the idea ofhelping other people: “I’mnot a brain surgeon, I’m notcuringcancer.Butinthisonesmallway, I think I’mgoingto make the world better. Iwake up everymorningwithasenseofpurpose.”

In my “grit lexicon,”therefore,purposemeans“the

intention to contribute to thewell-beingofothers.”

After hearing, repeatedly,from grit paragons howdeeply connected they felttheir work was to otherpeople, I decided to analyzethatconnectionmoreclosely.Sure, purpose might matter,buthowmuchdoes itmatter,relative to other priorities? Itseemed possible that single-

minded focus on a top-levelgoalis,infact,typicallymoreselfishthanselfless.

Aristotle was among thefirst to recognize that thereare at least two ways topursue happiness. He calledone “eudaimonic”—inharmony with one’s good(eu) inner spirit (daemon)—and the other “hedonic”—aimed at positive, in-the-moment, inherently self-centered experiences.

Aristotle clearly took a sideon the issue, deeming thehedonic life primitive andvulgar, and upholding theeudaimonic life as noble andpure.

But, in fact, both of thesetwo approaches to happinesshave very deep evolutionaryroots.

On one hand, humanbeingsseekpleasurebecause,by and large, the things thatbring us pleasure are those

that increase our chances ofsurvival. If our ancestorshadn’t craved food and sex,for example, they wouldn’thave lived very long or hadmany offspring. To someextent,allofusare,asFreudputit,drivenbythe“pleasureprinciple.”

On theotherhand,humanbeings have evolved to seekmeaning and purpose. In themost profound way, we’resocial creatures. Why?

Because the drive to connectwith and serve others alsopromotes survival. How?Because people whocooperate are more likely tosurvive than loners. Societydepends on stableinterpersonal relationships,and society in somanywayskeepsusfed,sheltersusfromthe elements, and protects usfrom enemies. The desire toconnect is as basic a human

need as our appetite forpleasure.

To some extent, we’re allhardwired to pursue bothhedonic and eudaimonichappiness. But the relativeweight we give these twokinds of pursuits can vary.Some of us care aboutpurpose much more than wecare about pleasure, andviceversa.

To probe the motivationsthat underlie grit, I recruited

sixteen thousand Americanadults and asked them tocomplete the Grit Scale. Aspart of a long supplementaryquestionnaire, studyparticipants read statementsabout purpose—for instance,“What I do matters tosociety”—and indicated theextent to which each appliedto them. They did the samefor six statements about theimportance of pleasure—forinstance, “For me, the good

life is the pleasurable life.”From these responses, wegenerated scores rangingfrom 1 to 5 for theirorientations to purpose andpleasure,respectively.

Below, I’ve plotted thedata from this large-scalestudy.As you can see, grittypeople aren’tmonks, nor arethey hedonists. In terms ofpleasure-seeking, they’re justlike anyone else; pleasure ismoderately important no

matterhowgrittyyouare. Insharp contrast, you can seethat grittier people aredramatically more motivatedthan others to seek ameaningful, other-centeredlife.Higherscoresonpurposecorrelate with higher scoresontheGritScale.

This is not to say that allgrit paragons are saints, butrather,thatmostgrittypeoplesee their ultimate aims asdeeplyconnectedtotheworldbeyondthemselves.

My claim here is that, formost people, purpose is atremendously powerfulsource of motivation. Theremay be exceptions, but therarity of these exceptionsprovestherule.

WhatamImissing?Well, it’sunlikelythatmy

sample included manyterroristsorserialkillers.Andit’s true that I haven’t

interviewed political despotsorMafia bosses. I guess youcould argue that I’moverlooking a wholepopulation of grit paragonswhosegoalsarepurelyselfishor,worse,directedatharmingothers.

On this point, I concede.Partly.Intheory,youcanbeamisanthropic, misguidedparagonofgrit.JosephStalinandAdolfHitler,forinstance,were most certainly gritty.

Theyalsoprove that the ideaof purpose can be perverted.How many millions ofinnocent people haveperished at the hands ofdemagogues whose statedintentionwastocontributetothewell-beingofothers?

In other words, agenuinely positive, altruisticpurpose is not an absoluterequirement of grit. And Ihave to admit that, yes, it ispossibletobeagrittyvillain.

But, on the whole, I takethesurveydataI’vegathered,andwhatparagonsofgrittellme in person, at face value.So,whileinterestiscrucialtosustaining passion over thelong-term, so, too, is thedesire to connect with andhelpothers.

My guess is that, if youtake a moment to reflect onthe times in your life whenyou’ve really been at yourbest—when you’ve risen to

the challenges before you,finding strength to do whatmight have seemedimpossible—you’ll realizethat the goals you achievedwereconnectedinsomeway,shape, or form to the benefitofotherpeople.

Insum,theremaybegrittyvillains in theworld, butmyresearch suggests there aremanymoregrittyheroes.

Fortunate indeed are thosewhohave a top-levelgoal soconsequential to the worldthatitimbueseverythingtheydo, no matter how small ortedious, with significance.Consider the parable of thebricklayers:

Three bricklayers areasked:“Whatareyoudoing?”

Thefirstsays,“Iamlayingbricks.”

The second says, “I ambuildingachurch.”

And the third says, “I ambuildingthehouseofGod.”

The first bricklayer has ajob.Thesecondhasacareer.Thethirdhasacalling.

Many of us would like tobe like the third bricklayer,but instead identify with thefirstorsecond.

Yale managementprofessorAmyWrzesniewskihasfoundthatpeoplehavenotroubleatalltellingherwhichof the three bricklayers they

identify with. In about equalnumbers, workers identifythemselvesashaving:

ajob(“Iviewmyjobasjust a necessity oflife, much likebreathing orsleeping”),

a career (“I view myjob primarily as astepping-stone tootherjobs”),or

a calling (“Mywork isone of the mostimportant things inmylife”).

UsingAmy’smeasures, I,too, have found that only aminority ofworkers considertheir occupations a calling.Not surprisingly, those whodo are significantly grittierthanthosewhofeelthat“job”or “career” more aptlydescribestheirwork.

Those fortunate peoplewho do see their work as acalling—as opposed to a joboracareer—reliablysay“mywork makes the world abetter place.” And it’s thesepeople who seem mostsatisfied with their jobs andtheir lives overall. In onestudy, adults who felt theirworkwasacallingmissedatleast a third fewer days ofworkthanthosewithajoboracareer.

Likewise, a recent surveyof 982 zookeepers—whobelong to a profession inwhich 80 percent of workershave college degrees and yeton average earn a salary of$25,000—found that thosewhoidentifiedtheirworkasacalling (“Working withanimals feels likemy callinginlife”)alsoexpressedadeepsense of purpose (“Theworkthat I do makes the world abetter place”). Zookeepers

withacallingwerealsomorewilling to sacrifice unpaidtime, after hours, to care forsick animals. And it waszookeepers with a callingwho expressed a sense ofmoral duty (“I have a moralobligationtogivemyanimalsthebestpossiblecare”).

I’ll point out the obvious:there’snothing“wrong”withhaving no professional

ambition other than to makeanhonest living.Butmostofusyearnformuchmore.Thiswas the conclusion ofjournalist Studs Terkel, whoin the 1970s interviewedmorethanahundredworkingadults in all sorts ofprofessions.

Not surprisingly, Terkelfound that only a smallminorityofworkersidentifiedtheirworkasacalling.Butitwasn’t for lack of wanting.

All of us, Terkel concluded,are looking for “dailymeaning as well as dailybread . . . for a sort of liferatherthanaMondaythroughFridaysortofdying.”

The despair of spendingthe majority of our wakinghours doing something thatlacks purpose is vividlyembodiedinthestoryofNoraWatson, a twenty-eight-year-old staff writer for aninstitution publishing health-

careinformation:“Mostofusarelookingforacalling,notajob,” she told Terkel.“There’s nothing I wouldenjoy more than a job thatwassomeaningfultomethatI brought it home.”And yet,she admitted to doing abouttwohoursof realworkadayand spending the rest of thetimepretendingtowork.“I’mthe only person in thewholedamn building with a deskfacing thewindow insteadof

the door. I just turn myselfaroundfromallthatIcan.

“I don’t think I have acalling—at this moment—except to be me,” Nora saidtoward the end of herinterview. “But nobody paysyou for being you, so I’m atthe Institution—for themoment....”

In the course of hisresearch, Terkel did meet a“happyfewwhofindasavorin their daily job.” From an

outsider’s point of view,those with a calling didn’talways labor in professionsmore conducive to purposethan Nora. One was astonemason, another abookbinder. A fifty-eight-year-old garbage collectornamed Roy Schmidt toldTerkel that his job wasexhausting, dirty, anddangerous. He knew mostother occupations, includinghispreviousofficejob,would

beconsideredmoreattractiveto most people. And yet, hesaid: “I don’t look down onmy job in any way. . . . It’smeaningfultosociety.”

Contrast Nora’s closingwords with the ending ofRoy’sinterview:“Iwastoldastory one time by a doctor.Years ago, in France . . . ifyoudidn’tstandinfavorwiththeking, they’dgiveyou thelowest job, of cleaning thestreets of Paris—which must

have been a mess in thosedays. One lord goofed upsomewherealong the line, sothey put him in charge of it.Andhedidsuchawonderfuljob that he was commendedfor it. The worst job in theFrench kingdom and he waspatted on the back for whathe did. That was the firststory I ever heard aboutgarbagewhereitreallymeantsomething.”

In the parable of thebricklayers, everyone has thesame occupation, but theirsubjective experience—howthey themselves viewed theirwork—couldn’t be moredifferent.

Likewise, Amy’s researchsuggests that callings havelittle to do with formal jobdescriptions. In fact, shebelieves that just about anyoccupation can be a job,career, or calling. For

instance, when she studiedsecretaries, she initiallyexpectedveryfewtoidentifytheirworkasacalling.Whenher data came back, shefound that secretariesidentified themselves ashaving a job, career, orcalling in equal numbers—just about the sameproportion she’d identified inothersamples.

Amy’s conclusion is thatit’s not that some kinds of

occupations are necessarilyjobs and others are careersand still others are callings.Instead, what matters iswhether thepersondoing thework believes that layingdown the next brick is justsomething that has to bedone, or instead somethingthat will lead to furtherpersonal success, or, finally,work that connects theindividual to something fargreaterthantheself.

Iagree.Howyouseeyourwork is more important thanyourjobtitle.

And this means that youcan go from job to career tocalling—allwithoutchangingyouroccupation.

“Whatdoyoutellpeople,”I recentlyaskedAmy,“whentheyaskyouforadvice?”

“A lot of people assumethat what they need to do isfindtheircalling,”shesaid.“Ithink a lot of anxiety comes

fromtheassumptionthatyourcallingislikeamagicalentitythat exists in the world,waitingtobediscovered.”

That’s also how peoplemistakenly think aboutinterests, I pointed out. Theydon’t realize they need toplay an active role indeveloping and deepeningtheirinterests.

“A calling is not somefully formed thing that youfind,” she tells advice

seekers. “It’s much moredynamic.Whateveryoudo—whether you’re a janitor orthe CEO—you cancontinually look at what youdoandaskhowitconnectstootherpeople,howitconnectsto the bigger picture, how itcanbe an expressionofyourdeepestvalues.”

In other words, abricklayerwhooneday says,“Iamlayingbricks”mightatsome point become the

bricklayer who recognizes “Iam building the house ofGod.”

Amy’s observation that thesame individual in the sameoccupation can at differenttimes think of it as a job,career, or calling brought tomindJoeLeader.

Joe is a senior vicepresident at NYC Transit.Basically,he’stheNewYork

City subway’s lead engineer.It’s a task of almostunimaginable proportions.Annually, more than 1.7billion trips are taken on thecity’ssubways,making it thebusiest subwaysystem in theUnited States. There are 469stations.Laidend toend, thetracks for the subwaysystemwould reach all the way toChicago.

As a young man, Leaderwasn’t looking for a calling.

He was looking to pay backstudentloans.

“When I was coming outof college,” he toldme, “mybiggest concern was justgettingajob.Anyjob.Transitcametoourcampustorecruitengineers,andIgothired.”

As an intern, Leader wasassigned to work on thetracks.“Ithrewinrails,Iwaspullingties,Iwasdoingcableworkforthethirdrail.”

Not everyone would findthatwork interesting,but Joedid.“Itwasfun.WhenIwasfirst on the job, and all mybuddies were business orcomputerguys,weusedtogoout, and on the way homefrom thebars in the evening,theyusedtorunupanddowna platform and say, ‘Joe,what’s this, what’s this?’ Iused to tell them: that’s athird-rail insulator, that’s aninsulatedjoint.Tome, itwas

fun.”So,interestwastheseedof

hispassion.Joesoonendedupdoinga

lot of planning work, whichhe also enjoyed. As hisinterests and expertisedeepened, and he started todistinguishhimself, hebegantoseetransitengineeringasalong-term career. “On mydays off, Iwent down to thelaundromattodothelaundry.Youknowthosebigtablesfor

folding your clothes? Well,all the women used to laughbecause I’d bring myengineeringdrawingsand laythemoutandworkonthem.Ireally fell in love with thatpartofthejob.”

Withinayear, Joe saidhebegan to look at his workdifferently. Sometimes, he’dlook at a bolt or rivet andrealize that some fellow hadput that in decades ago, andhere it was, still in the same

place, still making the trainsrun,stillhelpingpeopletogetwheretheyneededtobe.

“Ibegantofeel likeIwasmaking a contribution tosociety,” he told me. “Iunderstood Iwas responsiblefor moving people everysingle day. And when Ibecame a project manager, Iwouldwalk away from thesebig installation jobs—youknow, a hundred panels or awhole interlocking [of

signals]—and I knew thatwhatwe’ddonewasgoingtolastforthirtyyears.Thatwaswhen I felt I had a vocation,orIwouldsay,acalling.”

TohearJoeLeadertalkabouthis work might make youwonder if,afterayearofnotfinding your work to be acalling, you should give uphope. Among her MBAstudents, AmyWrzesniewski

findsthatmanygivetheirjobonlyacoupleofyearsbeforeconcluding that it couldn’tpossibly be their life’spassion.

It may comfort you toknow that it took MichaelBaimemuchlonger.

Baime is a professor ofinternal medicine at theUniversity of Pennsylvania.Youmightthinkhiscallingisto heal and to teach. That’sonly partly right. Michael’s

passion iswell-being throughmindfulness. It took himyearstointegratehispersonalinterest in mindfulness withtheother-centeredpurposeofhelpingpeopleleadhealthier,happier lives. Only wheninterest and purpose meldeddidhefeel likehewasdoingwhat he’d been put on thisplanettodo.

I asked Michael how hegotinterestedinmindfulness,and he took me all the way

back to his boyhood. “I waslookingupatthesky,”hetoldme. “And the strangest thinghappened. I felt like I wasactually getting lost in thesky. I felt it as a sort ofopening,likeIwasbecomingmuch larger. Itwas themostwonderful experience I’veeverhad.”

Later, Michael found thathecouldmakethesamethinghappen just by payingattentiontohisownthoughts.

“I becameobsessed,” he toldme. “I didn’t know what tocall it, but I would do it allthetime.”

Several years later,Michael was browsing in abookstore with his motherwhen he came upon a bookthat described his experienceexactly. The book was byAlan Watts, a Britishphilosopherwhowrote aboutmeditation for Western

audiences long before itbecamefashionable.

With his parents’encouragement,Michaeltookclasses in meditationthroughout high school andcollege. As graduationapproached,hehad to decidewhattodonext.Professionalmeditator was not an actualfull-time occupation. Hedecidedtobecomeadoctor.

Severalyears intomedicalschool,Michael confessed to

one of his meditationteachers, “This isn’t reallywhat Iwant to do.This isn’tright for me.” Medicine wasimportant,butitdidn’tmatchup with his deepest personalinterests. “Stay,” said theteacher. “You’ll help morepeople if you become adoctor.”

Michaelstayed.After finishing his

coursework,Michael says, “Ididn’t really know what I

wanted to do. To kind oftread water, I just signed upfor the first year ofinternship.”

Tohissurprise,heenjoyedpracticingmedicine.“Itwasafine way to be helpful topeople.Itwasn’tlikemedicalschool, which isn’t so muchabout helping people ascutting apart cadavers andmemorizingtheKrebscycle.”Rapidly, he progressed frominterntofellowtorunningthe

medical clinic to becomingthe assistant director ofresidency and, finally, chiefofgeneralinternalmedicine.

Still, medicine wasn’tquite what Michael wouldconsideracalling.

“As I practiced, I realizedthat the thing many of mypatients really neededwasn’tanotherprescriptionorX-ray,but actually what I’d beendoingformyselfsinceIwasakid. What many patients

needed was to stop andbreathe and fully connectwiththeirlivedexperience.”

That realization ledMichael to create ameditation class for patientswith serious healthconditions.Thatwasin1992.Sincethen,he’sexpandedtheprogram and, just this year,taken it on as a full-timeoccupation. To date, aboutfifteen thousand patients,

nurses, and physicians havebeentrained.

Recently, I askedMichaelto give a lecture onmindfulness for localschoolteachers.Onthedayofhis talk,he steppedup to thepodiumandlookedintentlyathisaudience.Onebyone,hemade eye contact with eachof the seventy educatorswho’dgivenup theirSundayafternoontohearwhathehad

to say. There was a longpause.

And then, with a smile Ican only describe as radiant,hebegan:“Ihaveacalling.”

Iwastwenty-onewhenIfirstexperienced the power of apurposefultop-levelgoal.

In the springofmy junioryear incollege, Iwent to thecareer services center to findsomethingtodothatsummer.

Turning the pages of anenormous three-ring binderlabeled SUMMER PUBLICSERVICE, I came across aprogram calledSummerbridge. The programwas looking for collegestudents to design and teachsummer enrichment classesfor middle school studentsfrom disadvantagedbackgrounds.Teaching kids for a

summer sounds like a good

idea, I thought. Icould teachbiology and ecology. I’llshow them how to make asolar oven out of tinfoil andcardboard. We’ll roast hotdogs.It’llbefun.

I didn’t think, Thisexperienceisgoingtochangeeverything.

Ididn’tthink,Sure,you’repremednow,butnotforlong.

I didn’t think, Hold ontight—you’re about to

discover the power ofpurpose.

To be honest, I can’t tellyoumuchaboutthatsummer.The details escape me. I doknow I woke long beforedawn each day, includingweekends, to prepare formyclasses. I do know I workedlong into the night. Iremember specific kids, andcertain moments. But itwasn’t until I returned homeand had a moment to reflect

that I realized what hadhappened. I’d glimpsed thepossibility that a child’sconnectionwithateachercanbelife-changing—forboth.

WhenIreturnedtocampusthat fall, I sought out otherstudents who’d taught atSummerbridge programs.One of these students, PhilipKing,happenedtoliveinthesamedorm.Likeme,hefeltapalpable urgency to startanother Summerbridge

program. The idea was toocompelling. We couldn’t nottry.

Wehadnomoney,noideahow to start a nonprofit, noconnections,and, inmycase,nothing but skepticism andworryfromparentsconvincedthis was a catastrophicallystupid way to use a Harvardeducation.

Philip and I had nothingand,yet,wehadexactlywhatweneeded.Wehadpurpose.

Asanyonewhohasstartedan organization from scratchcan tell you, there are amillion tasks, big and small,andnoinstructionmanualforany of them. If Philip and Iwere doing something thatwas merely interesting, wecouldn’t have done it at all.But because creating thisprogramwas in ourminds—and in our hearts—sooverwhelmingly importantforkids, itgaveusacourage

and energy neither of us hadeverknownbefore.

Because we weren’tasking for ourselves, Philipand I found the gumption toknock on the doors of justabout every small businessand restaurant in Cambridge,asking for donations. Wefound the patience to sit incountless waiting rooms ofpowers-that-be. We waitedandwaited, sometimes hourson end, until these authority

figures had time to see us.Then we found thestubbornness to keep askingand asking until we securedwhatweneeded.

And so it went foreverything we had to do—because we weren’t doing itfor ourselves,weweredoingitforagreatercause.

Two weeks after Philipand I graduated, we openedthe doors to the program.That summer, seven high

school and college studentsdiscoveredwhatitwasliketobe a teacher. Thirty fifth-grade boys and girlsdiscoveredwhatitwasliketospend their summer vacationlearning, studying, workinghard, and—though it mayhave seemed impossiblebefore they actually did it—having fun at the sametime.

Thatwasmorethantwentyyears ago. Now called

BreakthroughGreaterBoston,the program has grown farbeyond what Philip and Icould have imagined,providing tuition-free, year-round academic enrichmentfor hundreds of studentsevery year. To date, morethan a thousand young menandwomenhavetaughtintheprogram,manyofwhomhavegone on to pursue full-timecareersineducation.

Summerbridge led me topursueteaching.Teachingledme to an enduring interest inhelping children do so muchmore with their lives thanthey might ever dreampossible.

Andyet...For me, teaching wasn’t

enough. Still unfulfilled wasthelittlegirlinmewholovedscience, who was fascinatedbyhumannature,who,whenshe was sixteen and had a

chance to take a summerenrichment class, picked—ofall the courses in the catalog—psychology.

Writing this book mademe realize that I’m someonewhohadaninklingaboutmyinterests in adolescence, thensomeclarityaboutpurposeinmy twenties, and finally, inmy thirties, the experienceand expertise to say that mytop-level,life-organizinggoalis, and will be until my last

breath: Use psychologicalsciencetohelpkidsthrive.

One reason my dad was soupset about Summerbridge isthathelovesme.HethoughtIwould sacrifice my welfarefor the well-being of otherpeople who, frankly, hedidn’t love as much as hisowndaughter.

Indeed, the concepts ofgrit and purpose might, in

principle, seem to conflict.How is it possible to staynarrowly focused on yourowntop-levelgoalwhilealsohaving the peripheral visionto worry about anyone else?If grit is about having apyramid of goals that allserve a single personalobjective, how do otherpeoplefitintothepicture?

“Most people think self-oriented and other-orientedmotivationsareoppositeends

of a continuum,” says mycolleague and Whartonprofessor AdamGrant. “Yet,I’ve consistently found thatthey’re completelyindependent. You can haveneither, and you can haveboth.” In other words, youcanwanttobeatopdogand,atthesametime,bedriventohelpothers.

Adam’s researchdemonstrates that leadersandemployees who keep both

personal and prosocialinterests inminddobetter inthe long run than those whoare 100 percent selfishlymotivated.

For instance, Adam onceasked municipal firefighters,“Why are you motivated todo your work?” He thentracked their overtime hoursover the next two months,expecting firefighters whoweremoremotivated to helpothers to demonstrate the

greatest grit. But many ofthosewhoweredriventohelpothersworkedfewerovertimehours.Why?

A second motivation wasmissing: interest in the workitself. Only when theyenjoyed the work did thedesire tohelpothers result inmore effort. In fact,firefighters who expressedprosocialmotives(“BecauseIwant to help others throughmy work”) and intrinsic

interest in their work(“Because I enjoy it”)averaged more than 50percent more overtime perweekthanothers.

When Adam asked thesame question—“Why areyou motivated to do yourwork?”—of 140 fund-raisersat a call center for a publicuniversity, he found nearlyidentical results. Only thefund-raisers who expressedstronger prosocial motives

and who found the workintrinsically engaging mademorecallsand,inturn,raisedmore money for theuniversity.

Developmentalpsychologists David Yeagerand Matt Bundick find thesame pattern of results inadolescents. For example, inonestudy,David interviewedabout a hundred adolescents,asking them to tell him, intheir own words, what they

wantedtobewhentheygrewup,andwhy.

Some talked about theirfuture in purely self-orientedterms(“Iwanttobeafashiondesigner because it’s a funthing to do. . . . What’simportant . . . is that youreallyenjoy[yourcareer]”).

Others only mentionedother-oriented motives (“Iwanttobeadoctor.Iwanttohelppeopleout...”).

And, finally, someadolescents mentioned bothself- and other-orientedmotives: “If I was a marinebiologist, I would push [to]keep everything clean. . . . Iwould pick a certain placeand go help that place out,like the fish andeverything. . . . I’ve alwaysloved having fish tanks andfishbecausetheygettoswimand it’s, like, free. It’s likeflying underwater or

something.”Two years later, young

peoplewho’dmentionedbothself- and other-orientedmotives rated theirschoolwork as morepersonally meaningful thanclassmates who’d namedeithermotivealone.

FormanyofthegritparagonsI’veinterviewed,theroadtoa

purposeful, interestingpassionwasunpredictable.

Aurora and Franco Fonteare Australian entrepreneurswhose facilities servicescompany has 2,500employees and generatesmore than $130 million inannualrevenue.

Twenty-seven years ago,Aurora and Franco werenewly married and deadbroke. They got the idea tostart a restaurant but didn’t

haveenoughmoneytolaunchone. Instead, they begancleaning shopping malls andsmall office buildings—notout of any sense of calling,butbecauseitpaidthebills.

Soon enough, their careerambitions took a turn. Theycouldseeabrighter future inbuildingmaintenance than inhospitality.Theybothworkedferociously hard, putting ineighty-hour weeks,sometimes with their infant

children in carriers strappedacross their chests, scrubbingthe bathroom tiles in theircustomers’ buildings as iftheyweretheirown.

Through all the ups anddowns—andthereweremany—Franco told me: “Wealwayspersevered.Wedidn’tgive in to obstacles. Therewasnowayweregoingtoletourselvesfail.”

I confessed toAurora andFrancothatitwashardforme

to imagine how cleaningbathrooms—or even buildinga multimillion-dollarcorporation that cleansbathrooms—could feel like acalling.

“It’s not about thecleaning,” Aurora explained,her voice tightening withemotion. “It’s about buildingsomething. It’s about ourclients and solving theirproblems. Most of all, it’sabout the incredible people

we employ—they have thebiggest souls, and we feel ahuge responsibility towardthem.”

According to Stanforddevelopmental psychologistBill Damon, such a beyond-the-self orientation can andshould be deliberatelycultivated. Now in the fifthdecade of his distinguishedcareer, Bill studies how

adolescentslearntoleadlivesthat are personally gratifyingand, at the same time,beneficial to the largercommunity. The study ofpurpose, he says, is hiscalling.

InBill’swords,purposeisafinalanswertothequestion“Why? Why are you doingthis?”

What has Bill learnedabouttheoriginsofpurpose?

“Indatasetafterdataset,”hetoldme,“there’sapattern.Everyone has a spark. Andthat’s the very beginning ofpurpose. That spark issomething you’re interestedin.”

Next,youneed toobservesomeone who is purposeful.The purposeful role modelcould be a familymember, ahistorical figure, a politicalfigure.Itdoesn’treallymatterwhoit is,anditdoesn’teven

matter whether that purposeis related to what the childwill end up doing. “Whatmatters,” Bill explained, “isthat someone demonstratesthat it’s possible toaccomplish something onbehalfofothers.”

Infact,hecan’tremembera single case in which thedevelopment of purposeunfolded without the earlierobservation of a purposefulrolemodel.“Ideally,”hesaid,

“the child really gets to seehowdifficultalifeofpurposeis—all the frustrations andthe obstacles—but also howgratifying, ultimately, it canbe.”

What follows is arevelation, asBill put it.Thepersondiscoversaproblemintheworld that needs solving.This discovery can come inmanyways. Sometimes frompersonal loss or adversity.Sometimes from learning

about the loss and adversityconfrontingothers.

But seeing that someoneneeds our help isn’t enough,Billhastened toadd.Purposerequires a second revelation:“I personally can make adifference.” This conviction,this intention to take action,he says, is why it’s soimportant tohaveobservedarole model enact purpose intheir own life. “You have to

believe that your efforts willnotbeinvain.”

KatColeissomeonewhohada role model for purpose-drivengrit.

I met Kat when she wasthe thirty-five-year-oldpresident of the Cinnabonbakery chain. If you listen toher story without reflectingmuchon it,youmightdub it“rags to riches,” but if you

lean in and pay attentionyou’llhearadifferenttheme:“frompovertytopurpose.”

Kat grew up inJacksonville, Florida. Hermother, Jo, worked up thecourage to leave Kat’salcoholic father when Katwas nine. Jo worked threejobs to make enough moneyto support Kat and her twosisters, and yet still foundtime tobeagiver.“She’dbebaking for someone, running

an errand for someone—sheintuitively saw every smallopportunity to do somethingfor others. Everyone she gotto know, whether they werecoworkers or just people inthe community, becamefamilytoher.”

Kat emulated both hermother’s work ethic and herprofounddesiretobehelpful.

Before we get to Kat’smotivation, though, let’sconsider her unlikely ascent

upthecorporateladder.Kat’srésumébeginswithastint,atage fifteen, selling clothes atthe local mall. At eighteen,she was old enough towaitress. She got a job as a“Hooters girl” and one yearlater was asked to help openthefirstHootersrestaurantinAustralia. Ditto for MexicoCity, the Bahamas, and thenArgentina. By twenty-two,shewasrunningadepartmentoften.Bytwenty-six,shewas

vice president. As amemberof the executive team, Kathelped expand the Hootersfranchise to more than fourhundred sites in twenty-eightcountries.Whenthecompanywas bought by a privateequityfirm,Kat,atagethirty-two, had such an impressivetrack record that Cinnabonrecruited her to be itspresident.UnderKat’swatch,Cinnabon sales grew fasterthan theyhad inmore thana

decade,andwithinfouryearsexceededonebilliondollars.

Now let’s consider whatmakesKattick.

One time early in Kat’swaitressing days at Hooters,the cooks quit in the middleof their shift. “So,” she toldme matter-of-factly, “I wentback with the manager andhelped cook the food so allthetablesgotserved.”

Why?

“First of all, I wassurvivingofftips.That’showI paid my bills. If peopledidn’t get their food, theywouldn’tpaytheircheck,andthey certainlywouldn’t leavea tip. Second, I was socurioustoseeifIcoulddoit.And third, I wanted to behelpful.”

Tips and curiosity arepretty self-orientedmotivations, but wanting tobe helpful is, quite literally,

other-oriented. Here was anexample of how a singleaction—jumping behind thestove to make food for allthose waiting customers—benefited the individual andthepeoplearoundher.

The next thing Kat knew,she was training kitchenemployees and helping outwith the back-officeoperations. “Then one day,thebartenderneededtoleaveearly, and the same thing

happened. Another day, themanager quit, and I learnedhow to run a shift. In thecourse of six months, I’dworked every job in thebuilding.NotonlydidIworkthose jobs, I became thetrainer tohelp teachall thoserolestootherpeople.”

Jumping into the breachand being especially helpfulwasn’t a calculated move toget ahead in the corporation.Nevertheless, that beyond-

the-call-of-duty performanceled to an invitation to helpopen international locations,which led to a corporateexecutiveposition,andsoon.

Not so coincidentally, it’sthe sort of thing her mother,Jo, would have done. “Mypassionistohelppeople,”Jotold me. “No matter atbusiness, or away frombusiness, if you needsomebody to come over andbuild something, or help out

insomeway,I’mthatpersonwho wants to be there foryou.Tome,anysuccessI’vehad, it’s because I love toshare. There’s no reserve inme—whatever I have, I’mwilling to give to you oranyoneelse.”

Kat attributes herphilosophy to her mother,whoraisedher“toworkhardand give back.” And thatethicstillguideshertoday.

“Gradually,Ibecamemoreand more aware that I wasvery good at going into newenvironments and helpingpeoplerealizethey’recapableof more than they know. Iwasdiscoveringthat thiswasmy thing. And I started torealize that if I could helppeople—individuals—dothat, thenIcouldhelp teams.IfIcouldhelpteams,Icouldhelp companies. If I couldhelp companies, I could help

brands.IfIcouldhelpbrands,Icouldhelpcommunitiesandcountries.”

Not long ago, Kat postedan essay on her blog, titled“See What’s Possible, andHelp Others Do the Same.”“When I am around people,”Katwrote,“myheartandsoulradiate with the awarenessthat I am in the presence ofgreatness. Maybe greatnessunfound, or greatnessunderdeveloped, but the

potential or existence ofgreatness nevertheless. Youneverknowwhowillgoontodo goodor even great thingsor become the next greatinfluencer in the world—sotreat everyone like they arethatperson.”

Whateveryourage,it’snevertoo early or late to begincultivating a sense ofpurpose. I have three

recommendations, eachborrowed from one of thepurpose researchersmentionedinthischapter.

David Yeagerrecommends reflecting onhow thework you’re alreadydoing can make a positivecontributiontosociety.

In several longitudinalexperiments, David Yeagerand his colleague DavePaunesku asked high schoolstudents, “How could the

worldbeabetterplace?”andthen asked them to drawconnections to what theywere learning in school. Inresponse, one ninth graderwrote, “Iwould like to get ajob as some sort of geneticresearcher. I would use thisjobtohelpimprovetheworldbypossiblyengineeringcropsto produce more food. . . .”Another said, “I think thathaving an education allowsyou to understand the world

aroundyou. . . .Iwillnotbeable to help anyone withoutfirstgoingtoschool.”

This simple exercise,which took less than a classperiod to complete,dramatically energizedstudent engagement.Compared to a placebocontrolexercise,reflectingonpurpose led students todouble the amount of timethey spent studying for anupcomingexam,workharder

on tedious math problemswhen given the option towatch entertaining videosinstead, and, in math andscience classes, bring homebetterreportcardgrades.

Amy Wrzesniewskirecommends thinking abouthow, in smallbutmeaningfulways, you can change yourcurrent work to enhance itsconnection to your corevalues.

Amy calls this idea “jobcrafting,” and it’s anintervention she’s beenstudying with fellowpsychologists Jane Dutton,JustinBerg,andAdamGrant.This is not a Pollyanna,every-job-can-be-nirvanaidea. It is, simply, the notionthat whatever youroccupation, you canmaneuver within your jobdescription—adding,delegating, and customizing

what you do to match yourinterestsandvalues.

Amyandhercollaboratorsrecently tested this idea atGoogle. Employees workingin positions that don’timmediately bring the wordpurpose to mind—in sales,marketing, finance,operations, and accounting,for example—were randomlyassigned to a job-craftingworkshop. They came upwith their own ideas for

tweaking theirdaily routines,each employee making apersonalized “map” for whatwould constitute moremeaningful and enjoyablework. Six weeks later,managers and coworkersrated the employees whoattended this workshop assignificantly happier andmoreeffective.

Finally, Bill Damonrecommends findinginspiration in a purposeful

rolemodel. He’d like you torespondinwritingtosomeofthe questions he uses in hisinterviewresearch, including,“Imagine yourself fifteenyearsfromnow.Whatdoyouthink will be most importantto you then?” and “Can youthink of someone whose lifeinspires you to be a betterperson?Who?Why?”

When I carried out Bill’sexercise, I realized that theperson inmy lifewho,more

than anyone, has shown methe beauty of other-centeredpurpose is my mom. She is,without exaggeration, thekindestpersonI’veevermet.

Growing up, I didn’talways appreciate Mom’sgenerousspirit.Iresentedthestrangers who shared ourtable every Thanksgiving—not just distant relativeswho’d recently emigratedfrom China, but theirroommates, and their

roommates’ friends. Prettymuch anyone who didn’thave a place to go whohappenedtorunintomymomin the month of Novemberwas warmly welcomed intoourhome.

Oneyear,Momgaveawaymybirthdaypresentsamonthafter I’d unwrapped them,and another, she gave awaymy sister’s entire stuffedanimal collection. We threwtantrums and wept and

accusedherofnot lovingus.“But there are children whoneed them more,” she said,genuinely surprised at ourreaction.“Youhavesomuch.Theyhavesolittle.”

When I told my father Iwouldn’t be taking theMCAT exam for medicalschool and, instead, woulddevotemyself tocreating theSummerbridge program, hewasapoplectic.“Whydoyoucareaboutpoorkids?They’re

not family! You don’t evenknow them!” I now realizewhy. All my life, I’d seenwhatoneperson—mymother—could do to help manyothers. I’d witnessed thepowerofpurpose.

Chapter9

HOPE

There’s an old Japanesesaying:Fallseven,riseeight.If Iwereever togeta tattoo,

I’d get these four simplewordsindeliblyinked.

Whatishope?One kind of hope is the

expectation that tomorrowwillbebetter than today. It’sthe kind of hope that has usyearningforsunnierweather,or a smoother path ahead. Itcomes without the burden ofresponsibility.Theonusisonthe universe to make thingsbetter.

Gritdependsonadifferentkind of hope. It rests on theexpectation that our ownefforts can improve ourfuture. I have a feelingtomorrow will be better isdifferent from I resolve tomake tomorrow better. Thehope that gritty people havehas nothing to do with luckand everything to do withgettingupagain.

In the spring semester ofmyfirst year of college, Ienrolledinneurobiology.

Iwouldcometoeachclassearlyandsitinthefrontrow,where I’d copy everyequationanddiagramintomynotebook.Outside of lecture,Ididalltheassignedreadingsand required problem sets.Going into the first quiz, Iwas a little shaky in a fewareas—itwasatoughcourse,and my high school biology

coursework left a lot to bedesired—but on the whole Ifeltprettyconfident.

The quiz started out finebut quickly became moredifficult. I began to panic,thinking over and over: I’mnotgoingtofinish!Ihavenoidea what I’m doing! I’mgoingtofail!This,ofcourse,wasaself-fulfillingprophecy.The more my mind wascrowded by those heart-palpitatingthoughts,thelessI

could concentrate. Time ranout before I’d even read thelastproblem.

A few days later, theprofessor handed back thequiz. I looked downdisconsolately at mymiserable grade and, shortlythereafter, shuffled into theoffice of my assignedteaching assistant. “Youshould really considerdropping this course,” headvised. “You’re just a

freshman. You have threemore years. You can alwaystaketheclasslater.”

“I took AP Bio in highschool,”Icountered.

“Howdidyoudo?”“I got an A, but my

teacherdidn’t teachusmuch,which is probably why Ididn’t take the actual APexam.” This confirmed hisintuition that I should dropthecourse.

Virtually the samescenario repeated itself withthe midterm, for which I’dstudied madly, and afterwhich, I foundmyself in theteaching assistant’s officeonceagain.Thistimehistonewas more urgent. “You donot want a failing grade onyour transcript. It’s not toolate to withdraw from thecourse. If you do, nothingwill get factored into yourGPA.”

I thankedhimforhis timeand closed the door behindme. In the hallway, Isurprised myself by notcrying. Instead, I reviewedthefactsof thesituation: twofailures and only one moreexam—the final—before theendofthesemester.IrealizedIshouldhavestartedout inalower-level course, and now,more than halfway throughthe semester, it was obviousmyenergeticstudyingwasn’t

provingsufficient.IfIstayed,there was a good chance I’dchokeonthefinalandendupwithanFonmytranscript.IfI dropped the course, I’d cutmylosses.

I curled my hands intofists, clenched my jaw, andmarched directly to theregistrar’s office. At thatmoment, I’d resolved to stayenrolled in—and, in fact,majorin—neurobiology.

Looking back on thatpivotalday,IcanseethatI’dbeen knocked down—or,more accurately, tripped onmyowntwofeetandfellflaton my face. Regardless, itwas a moment when I couldhave stayed down. I couldhave said to myself: I’m anidiot! Nothing I do is goodenough! And I could havedroppedtheclass.

Instead, my self-talk wasdefiantly hopeful: I won’t

quit!Icanfigurethisout!For the rest of the

semester, I not only triedharder, I tried things Ihadn’tdone before. I went to everyteaching assistants’ officehours.Iaskedforextrawork.I practiced doing the mostdifficultproblemsunder timepressure—mimicking theconditions under which Ineeded to produce a flawlessperformance. I knew mynerves were going to be a

problem at exam time, so Iresolved to attain a level ofmasterywhere nothing couldsurpriseme. By the time thefinalexamcamearound,Ifeltlike I could have written itmyself.

Iacedthefinal.MyoverallgradeinthecoursewasaB—the lowest grade I’d get infouryears,but,ultimately,theone that made me theproudest.

LittledidIknowwhenIwasfoundering in myneurobiologyclass that Iwasre-creatingtheconditionsofafamous psychologyexperiment.

Let me wind back theclock to1964.Twofirst-yearpsychology doctoral studentsnamed Marty Seligman andSteve Maier are in awindowless laboratory,watchingacageddogreceiveelectric shocks to its back

paws. The shocks comerandomly and withoutwarning. If the dog doesnothing, the shock lasts fiveseconds,butifthedogpushesitsnoseagainstapanelatthefront of the cage, the shockendsearly.Inaseparatecage,another dog is receiving thesame shocks at exactly thesameintervals,butthere’snopanel to push on. In otherwords, both dogs get theexactsamedosageofshockat

the exact same times, butonlythefirstdogisincontrolofhowlongeachshocklasts.After sixty-four shocks, bothdogs go back to their homecages, and new dogs arebrought in for the sameprocedure.

Thenextday,onebyone,all the dogs are placed in adifferentcagecalledashuttlebox. In the middle, there’s alow wall, just high enoughthat the dogs can leap the

barrier if they try. A high-pitched tone plays, heraldingan impending shock, whichcomes through the floor ofthe half of the shuttle boxwhere the dog is standing.Nearly all the dogs who hadcontrol over the shocks thepreviousdaylearntoleapthebarrier. They hear the toneand jump over the wall tosafety. In contrast, two-thirdsof the dogs who had nocontrol over the shocks the

previous day just lie downwhimpering, passivelywaiting for the punishmentstostop.

This seminal experimentproved for the first time thatit isn’t suffering that leads tohopelessness. It’s sufferingyouthinkyoucan’tcontrol.

Many years after decidingtomajor in the subject Iwasfailing, I sat in a graduatestudent cubicle a few doorsdown from Marty’s office,

readingaboutthisexperimenton learned helplessness. Iquickly saw the parallels tomy earlier experience. Thefirst neurobiology quizbrought unexpected pain. Istruggled to improve mysituation, but when themidtermcame, Igot shockedagain. The shuttle box wasthe rest of the semester.Would I conclude from myearlier experience that I washelpless to change my

situation? After all, myimmediate experiencesuggested that two disastrousoutcomes would be followedbyathird.

OrwouldIbelikethefewdogs who, despite recentmemories of uncontrollablepain, held fast to hope?Would I consider my earliersuffering to be the result ofparticular mistakes I couldavoid in the future?Would Iexpandmy focus beyond the

recent past, remembering themany times I’d shrugged offfailure and eventuallyprevailed?

As it turns out, I behavedlike the one-third of dogs inMarty and Steve’s study thatpersevered.Igotupagainandkeptfighting.

In the decade following that1964 experiment, additionalexperiments revealed that

suffering without controlreliably produces symptomsof clinical depression,including changes in appetiteand physical activity, sleepproblems, and poorconcentration.

When Marty and Stevefirst proposed that animalsandpeoplecanlearnthattheyarehelpless, their theorywasconsidered downright absurdby fellow researchers.Nobody at the time took

seriously the possibility thatdogscouldhavethoughtsthatthen influenced theirbehavior. In fact, fewpsychologists entertained thepossibility that people hadthoughts that influenced theirbehavior. Instead, thereceivedwisdomwas thatalllivinganimalssimplyrespondmechanically to punishmentsandrewards.

After a mountain of datahad accumulated, ruling out

every conceivable alternativeexplanation, the scientificcommunitywas, at long last,convinced.

Having thoroughlyplumbed the disastrousconsequences ofuncontrollable stress in thelaboratory,Marty grewmoreand more interested in whatcould be done about it. Hedecidedtoretrainasaclinicalpsychologist. Wisely, hechosetodosounderthewing

ofAaronBeck,apsychiatristand fellow pioneer inunderstandingtherootcausesand practical antidotes fordepression.

What followed was avigorous exploration of theflip side of learnedhelplessness, which Martylater dubbed learnedoptimism. The crucial insightthat seeded Marty’s newwork was available from thevery beginning: While two-

thirds of the dogs that hadexperienced uncontrollableshock later gave up trying tohelpthemselves,aboutathirdremained resilient. Despitetheirearliertrauma,theykepttrying maneuvers that wouldbringrelieffrompain.

Itwas those resilient dogsthat led Marty to study theanalogous I won’t quitresponse to adversity inpeople. Optimists, Martysoon discovered, are just as

likelytoencounterbadeventsas pessimists. Where theydiverge is in theirexplanations: optimistshabitually search fortemporaryandspecificcausesof their suffering, whereaspessimists assume permanentand pervasive causes are toblame.

Here’s an example fromthe test Marty and hisstudents developed todistinguish optimists from

pessimists: Imagine: Youcan’t get all the work donethat others expect of you.Now imagine one majorcause for this event. Whatleapstomind?Afteryoureadthat hypothetical scenario,you write down yourresponse, and then, afteryou’re offered morescenarios, your responses arerated for how temporary(versus permanent) and how

specific (versus pervasive)theyare.

If you’re a pessimist, youmight say, I screw upeverything. Or: I’m a loser.These explanations are allpermanent; there’s not muchyou can do to change them.They’re also pervasive;they’relikelytoinfluencelotsoflifesituations,notjustyourjob performance. Permanentand pervasive explanationsfor adversity turn minor

complications into majorcatastrophes. They make itseemlogicaltogiveup.If,onthe other hand, you’re anoptimist, you might say, Imismanaged my time. Or: Ididn’t work efficientlybecause of distractions.These explanations are alltemporary and specific; their“fixability” motivates you tostart clearing them away asproblems.

Using this test, Martyconfirmed that, compared tooptimists,pessimistsaremorelikely to suffer fromdepression and anxiety.What’s more, optimists farebetterindomainsnotdirectlyrelated to mental health. Forinstance, optimisticundergraduates tend to earnhigher grades and are lesslikely to drop out of school.Optimistic young adults stayhealthier throughout middle

age and, ultimately, livelonger than pessimists.Optimists are more satisfiedwith their marriages. A one-year field study of MetLifeinsurance agents found thatoptimists are twice as likelyto stay in their jobs, and thatthey sell about 25 percentmore insurance than theirpessimistic colleagues.Likewise, studies ofsalespeople intelecommunications, real

estate, office products, carsales, banking, and otherindustries have shown thatoptimists outsell pessimistsby20to40percent.

In one study, eliteswimmers, many of whomwere training for the U.S.Olympic trials, took Marty’soptimism test. Next, coachesaskedeachswimmertoswimin his or her best event andthen deliberately told eachswimmer they’d swum just a

littleslowerthanwasactuallythe case. Given theopportunity to repeat theirevent,optimistsdidatleastaswell as in their first attempt,but pessimists performedsubstantiallyworse.

How do grit paragonsthink about setbacks?Overwhelmingly, I’ve foundthat they explain eventsoptimistically. JournalistHester Lacey finds the samestriking pattern in her

interviews with remarkablycreative people. “What hasbeen your greatestdisappointment?” she askseach of them. Whetherthey’re artists orentrepreneurs or communityactivists, their response isnearly identical. “Well, Idon’t really think in termsofdisappointment. I tend tothink that everything thathappens is something I canlearn from. I tend to think,

‘Well okay, thatdidn’t go sowell, but I guess I will justcarryon.’ ”

Around the time MartySeligman took his two-yearhiatus from laboratoryresearch, his new mentorAaron Beck was questioninghis own training in Freudianpsychoanalysis. Like mostpsychiatristsatthetime,Beckhadbeentaughtthatallforms

ofmental illnesswere rootedin unconscious childhoodconflicts.

Beck disagreed. He hadtheaudacity tosuggest thatapsychiatrist could actuallytalkdirectly topatientsaboutwhatwasbotheringthem,andthat the patients’ thoughts—their self-talk—could be thetarget of therapy. Thefoundational insight ofBeck’s new approach wasthat the same objective event

—losingajob,gettingintoanargument with a coworker,forgetting to call a friend—can lead to very differentsubjective interpretations.Anditisthoseinterpretations—rather than the objectiveevents themselves—that cangive rise to our feelings andourbehavior.

Cognitive behavioraltherapy—which aims to treatdepression and otherpsychological maladies by

helping patients think moreobjectively and behave inhealthier ways—has shownthat, whatever our childhoodsufferings, we can generallylearn toobserveournegativeself-talk and change ourmaladaptive behaviors. Aswith any other skill, we canpractice interpreting whathappenstousandrespondingas an optimist would.Cognitive behavioral therapyis now a widely practiced

psychotherapeutic treatmentfor depression, and hasproven longer-lasting in itseffects than antidepressantmedication.

AfewyearsafterI’dgottenatoehold in grit research,Wendy Kopp, the founderand then CEO of Teach ForAmerica,cametovisitMarty.

Then still his graduatestudent, I was eager to join

theirmeetingfortworeasons.First,TeachForAmericawassending hundreds of recentcollege graduates intodisadvantagedschooldistrictsacross the country. Frompersonal experience, I knewteaching to be a grit-demanding profession,nowheremore so than in theurban and rural classroomswhere TFA teachers areassigned.Second,Wendywasherself a paragon of grit.

Famously,she’dconceivedofTFAduringhersenioryearatPrinceton and, unlike somany idealists whoeventually give up on theirdream, she’d stuck with it,starting from nothing andcreatingoneofthelargestandmost influential educationalnonprofits in the country.“Relentlesspursuit”wasbotha core value of TFA and thephrase often used by friends

and coworkers to describeWendy’sleadershipstyle.

At that meeting, the threeofusdevelopedahypothesis:Teachers who have anoptimisticwayofinterpretingadversityhavemoregrit thantheir more pessimisticcounterparts,andgrit,inturn,predicts better teaching. Forinstance, an optimisticteacher might keep lookingfor ways to help anuncooperative student,

whereas a pessimist mightassume there was nothingmore to be done. To testwhether that was true, wedecided tomeasureoptimismand grit before teachers setfoot in the classroom and, ayearlater,seehoweffectivelyteachers had advanced theacademic progress of theirstudents.

ThatAugust,fourhundredTFA teachers completed theGrit Scale and, in addition,

Marty’s questionnaireassessing their optimism. Tothe extent they thought oftemporaryandspecificcausesforbadevents,andpermanentandpervasivecausesofgoodevents, we coded theirresponses as optimistic. Tothe extent they did thereverse, we coded theirresponsesaspessimistic.

In the same survey, wemeasured one more thing:happiness. Why? For one

thing, there was a small butgrowing body of scientificevidence that happinesswasn’t just the consequenceofperformingwellatwork,itmight also be an importantcause.Also,wewerecuriousabouthowhappy thegrittiestteachers were. Did single-minded passion andperseverancecomeat acost?Or could you be gritty andhappyatthesametime?

One year later, whenTeach For America hadtabulated effectivenessratingsforeachteacherbasedontheacademicgainsoftheirstudents, we analyzed ourdata. Just as we’d expected,optimistic teachers weregrittier and happier, and gritand happiness in turnexplained why optimisticteachers got their students toachieve more during theschoolyear.

After staring at theseresults for a while, I beganreminiscing about my ownexperience of classroomteaching. I remembered themany afternoons I’d gonehome exasperated andexhausted. I rememberedbattling catastrophic self-talkabout my own capabilities—Oh god, I really am anidiot!—and those of myyoung charges—She got itwrong again? She’ll never

learnthis!AndIrememberedthe mornings I’d gotten upand decided, after all, thatthere was one more tacticworthtrying:MaybeifIbringin a Hershey bar and cut itinto pieces, they’ll get theidea of fractions. Maybe if Ihaveeveryonecleanouttheirlockers on Mondays, they’llget in the habit of keepingtheirlockersclean.

Thedatafromthisstudyofyoung teachers, along with

Wendy Kopp’s intuitions,interviewswithgritparagons,and a half century ofpsychological research allpoint to the same,commonsense conclusion:Whenyoukeepsearchingforwaystochangeyoursituationfor the better, you stand achance of finding them.When you stop searching,assumingtheycan’tbefound,youguaranteetheywon’t.

Or asHenryFord is oftenquoted as saying, “Whetheryou think you can, or thinkyoucan’t—you’reright.”

Around the time MartySeligman and Steve Maierwere linking hopelessness toalackofperceivedcontrol,ayoung psychology majornamed Carol Dweck wasmaking her way throughcollege. Carol had always

been intrigued that somepeopleperseverewhileothersin identical circumstancesgive up. Right aftergraduation, she enrolled in adoctoral program inpsychology and pursued thisquestion.

Marty and Steve’s workhad a profound influence onyoung Carol. She believedtheir findings but wasunsatisfied. Sure, attributingyourmiserytocausesbeyond

yourcontrolwasdebilitating,but where did theseattributionscomefromin thefirst place? Why, she asked,didonepersongrowuptobean optimist and another apessimist?

In one of Carol’s firststudies, she worked withmiddle schools to identifyboys and girls who, byconsensus of their teachers,the school principal, and theschool psychologist, were

especially “helpless” whenconfronted by failure. Herhunchwasthatthesechildrenbelieved that a lack ofintellectual ability led tomistakes,ratherthanalackofeffort. In other words, shesuspecteditwasn’tjustalongstring of failures that madethesechildrenpessimistic,butrathertheircorebeliefsaboutsuccessandlearning.

To test her idea, Caroldivided the children into two

groups. Half the childrenwere assigned to a successonly program. For severalweeks, they solved mathproblems and, at the end ofeach session, no matter howmany they’d completed, theyreceived praise for doingwell. The other half of thechildren in Carol’s studywere assigned to anattribution retrainingprogram.These children alsosolved math problems, but

were occasionally told thatthey hadn’t solved enoughproblems during thatparticular session and,crucially, that they “shouldhavetriedharder.”

Afterward,all thechildrenwere given a combination ofeasy and very difficultproblemstodo.

Carol reasoned that, ifprior failures were the rootcause of helplessness, thesuccess only program would

boost motivation. If, on theother hand, the real problemwas how children interpretedtheir failures, then theattribution retrainingprogram would be moreeffective.

What Carol found is thatthe children in the successonlyprogramgaveup justaseasilyafterencounteringverydifficultproblemsastheyhadbefore training. In sharpcontrast, children in the

attribution retrainingprogram tried harder afterencountering difficulty. Itseems as though they’dlearned to interpret failure asacuetotryharderratherthanas confirmation that theylackedtheabilitytosucceed.

Over the next four decades,Carolprobeddeeper.

She soon discovered thatpeople of all ages carry

around in theirmindsprivatetheoriesabouthowtheworldworks. These points of viewareconscious in that ifCarolasks you questions aboutthem, you have a readyanswer.But like the thoughtsyouworkonwhenyougo toa cognitive behavioraltherapist, you may not beaware of them until you’reasked.

Here are four statementsCarol uses to assess a

person’s theory ofintelligence. Read them nowand consider how much youagreeordisagreewitheach:

Your intelligence issomethingverybasicaboutyou that you can’t changeverymuch.

Youcan learnnew things,butyoucan’treallychangehowintelligentyouare.

No matter how muchintelligence you have, youcanalwayschangeitquiteabit.

You can alwayssubstantially change howintelligentyouare.

If you found yourselfnodding affirmatively to thefirst two statements butshaking your head indisagreement with the lasttwo, then Carol would say

you have more of a fixedmindset. If you had theopposite reaction, then Carolwouldsayyou tend towardagrowthmindset.

I like to thinkofagrowthmindsetthisway:Someofusbelieve, deep down, thatpeople really can change.Thesegrowth-orientedpeopleassume that it’s possible, forexample, to get smarter ifyou’re given the rightopportunitiesandsupportand

if you tryhardenoughand ifyou believe you can do it.Conversely, some peoplethinkyoucanlearnskills,likehow to ride a bike or do asalespitch,butyourcapacityto learn skills—your talent—can’tbetrained.Theproblemwith holding the latter fixed-mindset view—and manypeople who considerthemselves talented do—isthat no road is withoutbumps. Eventually, you’re

going to hit one. At thatpoint,havingafixedmind-setbecomes a tremendousliability.ThisiswhenaC–,arejection letter, adisappointingprogressreviewatwork,oranyothersetbackcan derail you.With a fixedmindset, you’re likely tointerpret these setbacks asevidence that, after all, youdon’thave“therightstuff”—you’renotgoodenough.With

agrowthmindset,youbelieveyoucanlearntodobetter.

Mindsetshavebeenshowntomakeadifferenceinallthesame life domains asoptimism.Forinstance,ifyouhave a growth mindset,you’remorelikelytodowellin school, enjoy betteremotional and physicalhealth, and have stronger,more positive socialrelationships with otherpeople.

A few years ago, Caroland I asked more than twothousand high school seniorstocompleteagrowth-mindsetquestionnaire. We’ve foundthat students with a growthmindset are significantlygrittier than students with afixed mindset. What’s more,grittier students earn higherreport card grades and, aftergraduation,aremorelikelytoenroll in and persist throughcollege. I’ve since measured

growth mindset and grit inboth younger children andolder adults, and in everysample, I’ve found thatgrowth mindset and grit gotogether.

When you ask Carol whereour mindsets come from,she’ll point to people’spersonal histories of successand failure and how thepeople around them,

particularly those in aposition of authority, haverespondedtotheseoutcomes.

Consider, for example,what people said to youwhen, as a child, you didsomething really well. Wereyou praised for your talent?Orwereyoupraisedforyoureffort? Either way, chancesare you use the samelanguage today whenevaluating victories anddefeats.

Praising effort andlearning over “natural talent”isanexplicittargetofteachertraining in theKIPP schools.KIPP stands for theKnowledge Is PowerProgram,anditwasstartedin1994 by Mike Feinberg andDaveLevin,twogrittyyoungTeach For America teachers.Today, KIPP schools serveseventy thousandelementary,middle, and high schoolstudents across the country.

The vast majority ofKIPPsters, as they proudlyrefer to themselves, comefrom low-income families.Against the odds, almost allgraduate from high school,andmore than 80 percent goontocollege.

KIPP teachers get a littlethesaurusduring training.Onone side, there areencouragements teachersoften use with the best ofintentions.Ontheother,there

is language that subtly sendsthemessage that life isaboutchallenging yourself andlearning to do what youcouldn’tdobefore.Seebelowfor examples appropriate forpeople of any age. Whetheryou’re a parent, manager,coach, or any other type ofmentor,Isuggestyouobserveyour own language over thenext few days, listening forthebeliefsyourwordsmaybe

reinforcing in yourself andothers.

UnderminesGrowthMindsetandGrit

PromotesGrowthMindsetandGrit

“You’reanatural!Ilovethat.”

“You’realearner!Ilovethat.”

“Well,atleastyoutried!”

“Thatdidn’twork.Let’stalkabout

howyouapproacheditandwhatmightworkbetter.”

“Greatjob!You’resotalented!”

“Greatjob!What’sonethingthatcouldhavebeenevenbetter?”

“Thisishard.Don’tfeelbad

“Thisishard.Don’tfeelbadifyou

ifyoucan’tdoit.”

can’tdoityet.”

“Maybethisjustisn’tyourstrength.Don’tworry—youhaveotherthingstocontribute.”I

“Ihavehighstandards.I’mholdingyoutothembecauseIknowwecanreachthemtogether.”

Language is one way tocultivate hope. Butmodelinga growth mindset—demonstrating by ouractionsthat we truly believe peoplecan learn to learn—may beevenmoreimportant.

Author and activist JamesBaldwinonceputitthisway:“Children have never beenverygoodatlisteningtotheirelders, but they have neverfailed to imitate them.” Thisis one of Dave Levin’s

favorite quotes, and I’vewatched him begin manyKIPP training workshopswithit.

A psychologist inmy lab,Daeun Park, recently foundthistobeexactlythecase.Inayearlongstudyof first-andsecond-gradeclassrooms,shefoundthat teacherswhogavespecial privileges to higher-performing students andemphasized how theycompared to others

inadvertently inculcated afixed mindset among theyoung students. Over theyear,studentsofteacherswhoactedthiswaygrewtoprefergames and problems thatwereeasy, “soyoucanget alotright.”Byyear’send,theyweremorelikelytoagreethat“apersonisacertainamountsmart, and stays prettymuchthesame.”

Similarly, Carol and hercollaborators are finding that

children develop more of afixed mindset when theirparents react to mistakes asthough they’re harmful andproblematic.Thisistrueevenwhen these parents say theyhave a growth mindset. Ourchildrenarewatchingus,andthey’reimitatingwhatwedo.

The same dynamics applyin a corporate setting.Berkeley professor JenniferChatman and hercollaborators recently

surveyed employees ofFortune 1000 companiesabout mindset, motivation,and well-being. They foundthat, in each company, therewas a consensus aboutmindset. In fixed-mindsetcompanies,employeesagreedwithstatementslike“Whenitcomes to being successful,this company seems tobelieve that people have acertain amount of talent, andthey really can’t do much to

changeit.”Theyfeltthatonlya few star performers werehighly valued and that thecompany wasn’t trulyinvested in other employees’development. Theserespondents also admitted tokeeping secrets, cuttingcorners, and cheating to getahead. By contrast, ingrowth-mindset cultures,employees were 47 percentmore likely to say theircolleagues were trustworthy,

49percentmorelikelytosaytheir company fostersinnovation, and 65 percentmore likely to say theircompanysupportsrisktaking.

How do you treat highachievers?Howdoyou reactwhenothersdisappointyou?

Myguessisthatnomatterhow much you embrace theidea of growth mindset, youoften default to a fixedmindset. At least, this is thecase for Carol, Marty, and

me.Allofusknowhowwe’dlike to react when, say,someone we’re supervisingbringsusworkthatfallsshortof expectations. We’d likeour knee-jerk reflex to becalm and encouraging. Weaspire tohaveanOkay, whatis there to learn here?attitudetowardmistakes.

But we’re human. So,moreoftenthanwe’dlike,weget frustrated. We show ourimpatience. In judging the

person’sabilities,weallowaflickerofdoubt todistractusmomentarily from the moreimportant task of what theycoulddonexttoimprove.

The reality is that mostpeople have an inner fixed-mindset pessimist in themright alongside their innergrowth-mindset optimist.Recognizing this is importantbecauseit’seasytomakethemistakeofchangingwhatwesay without changing our

body language, facialexpressions,andbehavior.

Sowhat shouldwedo?Agoodfirststepistowatchformismatches between ourwords and actions.Whenweslip up—and we will—wecan simply acknowledge thatit’shardtomoveawayfromafixed,pessimisticviewoftheworld. One of Carol’scolleagues, Susan Mackie,works with CEOs andencourages them to give

names to their inner fixed-mindsetcharacters.Thentheycan say things like “Oops. Iguess I brought ControllingClaire to the meeting today.Let me try that again.” Or:“Overwhelmed Olivia isstrugglingtodealwithallthecompeting demands, can youhelpmethinkthisthrough?”

Ultimately, adopting agritty perspective involvesrecognizing that people getbetter at things—they grow.

Just as we want to cultivatethe ability to get up off thefloor when life has knockedus down, we want to givethosearoundusthebenefitofthe doubt when somethingthey’ve tried isn’t a ragingsuccess. There’s alwaystomorrow.

IrecentlycalledBillMcNabbfor his perspective. Since2008, Bill has served as the

CEO of Vanguard, theworld’s largest provider ofmutualfunds.

“We’ve actually trackedsenior leaders here atVanguard and asked whysome did better in the longrunthanothers.Iusedtousethe word ‘complacency’ todescribe the oneswho didn’twork out, but the more Ireflect on it, the more Irealize that’snotquite it. It’sreally a belief that ‘I can’t

learn anymore. I am what Iam.ThisishowIdothings.’ ”

Andwhataboutexecutiveswhoultimatelyexcelled?

“The people who havecontinued to be successfulherehavestayedonagrowthtrajectory. They just keepsurprising you with howmuchthey’regrowing.We’vehad people who, if youlooked at their résumécoming in,you’dsay, ‘Wow,howdidthatpersonendupso

successful?’ And we’ve hadother people come in withincredible credentials, andyou’re wondering, ‘Why didtheynotgofurther?’ ”

When Bill discovered theresearch on growth mindsetand grit, it confirmed hisintuitions—not just as acorporate leader but as afather, former high schoolLatin teacher, rowing coach,andathlete.“Ireallydothinkpeopledeveloptheoriesabout

themselves and the world,and it determines what theydo.”

When we got to thequestion of where, exactly,any of us begin formulatingthese theories, Bill said,“Believe it or not, I actuallystarted out with more of afixedmindset.”Hechalksupthat mindset, partly, to hisparents enrolling him, whilehe was still in elementaryschool, ina researchstudyat

a nearby university. Heremembers taking a wholebattery of intelligence testsand, at the end, being told,“You did really well, andyou’regoingtodoreallywellinschool.”

For a while, anauthoritative diagnosis oftalent, in combination withearly success, boosted hisconfidence: “I took greatpride in finishing tests fasterthan anyone else. I didn’t

always get one hundredpercent, but I usually cameclose, and I took greatpleasure in not working thathardtoachievewhatIdid.”

Billattributeshisswitchtoa growth mindset to joiningthecrewteamincollege.“I’dnever rowed before, but Ifound I liked being on thewater.Ilikedbeingoutside.Iliked the exercise. I sort offellinlovewiththesport.”

RowingwasthefirstthingBill wanted to do well thatdidn’tcomeeasily:“Iwasnotanatural,”hetoldme.“Ihadalotoffailuresearlyon.ButI kept going, and theneventually, I started gettingbetter. Suddenly, it began tomake sense: ‘Put your headdownandgohard.Hardworkreally, really matters.’ ” Bythe end of his freshmanseason,Billwasinthejuniorvarsity boat. That didn’t

sound so bad tome, butBillexplained that, statistically,this placement suggestedthere was no chance of evermakingvarsity.Thatsummer,he stayed on campus androwedallsummer.

All that practice paid off.Bill was promoted to the“stroke seat” of the juniorvarsity boat,making him theonewhosetsthepacefortheother seven rowers. Duringtheseason,oneof thevarsity

rowers was injured, and Billhad the opportunity to showwhat he could do. By hisaccount, and also the teamcaptain’s, he did terrificallywell. Still, when the injuredrower recovered, the coachdemotedBillagain.

“That coach had a fixedmindset—he just couldn’tbelieve that I’d improved asmuchasIdid.”

There were more ups anddowns, but Bill’s growth

mindset kept gettingaffirmed. “Because I’d comesodamnclosetoquittingandyet hung in there, andbecause thingseventuallydidwork out, I learned a lessonI’d never forget. The lessonwas that, when you havesetbacks and failures, youcan’t overreact to them.Youneed to step back, analyzethem, and learn from them.But you also need to stayoptimistic.”

How did that lesson helpBilllaterinlife?“Therehavebeen times in my careerwhere I felt discouraged. I’dwatch someone else getpromotedbeforeme.I’dwantthings to go a certain way,and they’d go the opposite.At those points, I’d say tomyself, ‘Just keep workinghardand learning,and itwillallworkout.’ ”

“Whatdoesn’tkillmemakesmestronger,”Nietzscheoncesaid. Kanye West and KellyClarkson echo the samesentiment, and there’s areason we keep repeating it.Many of us can remember atimewhen,likeBillMcNabb,we were confronted withchallengeandyetemergedontheothersidemoreconfidentthanwhenwebegan.

Consider,forexample,theOutward Bound program,

which sends adolescents oradults into the wildernesswith experienced leaders,usually for a few weeks.From its inception a halfcentury ago, the premise ofOutward Bound—so namedfor themomenta ship leavesharborfortheopenseas—hasbeenthatchallengingoutdoorsituations develop “tenacityinpursuit” and“undefeatablespirit.” In fact, acrossdozensof studies, the program has

been shown to increaseindependence, confidence,assertiveness, and the beliefthat what happens in life islargely under your control.What’s more, these benefitstend to increase, rather thandiminish, in the six monthsfollowing participation in theprogram.

All the same, it’sundeniable that what doesn’tkill us sometimes makes usweaker. Consider the dogs

whowereshockedrepeatedlywithnocontrol.Athirdofthedogs were resilient to thisadversity, but there was noevidencethatanyofthedogsin the uncontrollable stresscondition benefited from theexperience in any way. Onthecontrary,mostweremuchmore vulnerable to sufferingintheimmediateaftermath.

So, it appears thatsometimes what doesn’t killyoumakes you stronger, and

sometimes it does theopposite.Theurgentquestionbecomes:When?When doesstruggle lead to hope, andwhen does struggle lead tohopelessness?

A few years ago, SteveMaier and his studentsdesigned an experimentnearly identical to theoneheand Marty Seligman hadconducted fortyyears earlier:One group of rats receivedelectric shocks, but if they

turned a small wheel withtheir front paws, they couldturn off the shock until thenext trial. A second groupreceived theexact samedoseof electric shocks as the firstbut had no control over theirduration.

Onecrucialdifferencewasthat, in the new experiment,theratswereonlyfiveweeksold—that’sadolescenceintherat life cycle. A seconddifferencewasthattheeffects

of this experience wereassessed five weeks later,when the rats were fullymature adults. At that point,both groups of rats weresubjected to uncontrollableelectric shocks and, the nextday, observed in a socialexplorationtest.

Here’swhatStevelearned.Adolescent rats whoexperienced stress theycouldnot control grew up to beadult rats who, after being

subjected to uncontrollableshocks a second time,behavedtimidly.Thiswasnotunusual—they learned to behelplessinthesamewaythatany other rat would. Incontrast, adolescent rats whoexperienced stress theycouldcontrol grew up to be moreadventurous and, mostastounding, appeared to beinoculated against learnedhelplessness in adulthood.That’s right—when these

“resilient rats” grew up, theusual uncontrollable shockprocedures no longer madethemhelpless.

In other words, whatdidn’t kill the young rats,when by their own effortsthey could control what washappening, made themstrongerforlife.

When I learned about SteveMaier’s new experimental

work,Ijusthadtotalktohiminperson.IgotonaplanetoColorado.

Steve walked me aroundhislaboratoryandshowedmethe special cages equippedwith little wheels that, whenturned, cut off the current totheelectricshock.Afterward,the graduate studentwho ranthe experiment on adolescentratsthatIjustdescribedgavea talk on the brain circuitsand neurotransmitters

involved.Finally,whenSteveand I sat down together, Iasked him to explain, fromthis experiment andeverything else he’d done inhis long and distinguishedcareer, the neurobiology ofhope.

Steve thought for amoment.“Here’sthedealinafew sentences. You’ve gotlotsofplacesinthebrainthatrespond to aversiveexperiences. Like the

amygdala.Infact, thereareawhole bunch of limbic areasthatrespondtostress.”

Inodded.“Nowwhathappensisthat

these limbic structures areregulated by higher-orderbrainareas,liketheprefrontalcortex.Andso,ifyouhaveanappraisal, a thought, a belief—whatever you want to callit—thatsays,‘Waitaminute,I can do something aboutthis!’ or ‘This really isn’t so

bad!’orwhatever, then theseinhibitory structures in thecortex are activated. Theysend a message: ‘Cool itdown there! Don’t get soactivated. There’s somethingwecando.’ ”

I got it. But I still didn’tunderstand, fully, why Stevehad gone to the trouble ofexperimenting withadolescentrats.

“The long-term storyneeds some more

explanation,” he continued.“We think there is plasticityin that circuitry. If youexperience adversity—somethingprettypotent—thatyou overcome on your ownduring your youth, youdevelop a different way ofdealing with adversity lateron. It’s important that theadversity be pretty potent.Because these brain areasreallyhavetowiretogetherinsome fashion, and that

doesn’t happen with justminorinconveniences.”

So you can’t just talksomeone into believing theycanmasterchallenges?

“That’s right. Just tellingsomebodytheycanovercomeadversity isn’t enough. Forthe rewiring to happen, youhave to activate the controlcircuitry at the same time asthose low-level areas. Thathappenswhenyouexperience

mastery at the same time asadversity.”

And what about a lifehistory of challenge withoutcontrol?

“Iworryalotaboutkidsinpoverty,” Steve said.“They’re getting a lot ofhelplessness experiences.They’re not getting enoughmastery experiences. They’renot learning: ‘Icando this. Ican succeed in that.’ Myspeculation is that those

earlier experiences can havereally enduring effects. Youneed to learn that there’s acontingency between youractions and what happens toyou: ‘If I do something, thensomethingwillhappen.’ ”

Thescientificresearchisveryclear that experiencingtraumawithoutcontrolcanbedebilitating.But I alsoworryabout people who cruise

through life, friction-free, fora long, long time beforeencountering their first realfailure. They have so littlepracticefallingandgettingupagain. They have so manyreasons to stick with a fixedmindset.

I see a lot of invisiblyvulnerable high-achieversstumble in young adulthoodandstruggletogetupagain.Icall them the “fragileperfects.” Sometimes I meet

fragile perfects in my officeafter a midterm or a final.Very quickly, it becomesclear that these bright andwonderful people know howtosucceedbutnothowtofail.

Last year, I kept in touchwith a freshman at Pennnamed Kayvon Asemani.Kayvon has the sort ofrésumé that might make youworry he’s a fragile perfect:valedictorian of his highschool class, student body

president,starathlete . . . thelistgoeson.

But I assure you thatKayvon is the veryembodiment of growthmindset and optimism. Wemetwhen hewas a senior attheMiltonHersheySchool,atuition-free boarding schooloriginally established bychocolatier Milton Hersheyfor orphan boys and, to thisday, a haven for childrenfrom severely disadvantaged

backgrounds.Kayvonandhissiblings ended up atHersheyjust before Kayvon enteredthe fifth grade—one yearafter his father nearlystrangledhismothertodeath,leaving her in a permanentcoma.

At Hershey, Kayvonthrived. He discovered apassionformusic,playingthetrombone in two schoolbands. And he discoveredleadership,givingspeechesto

state politicians, creating astudent-run school newswebsite, chairing committeesthat raised tens of thousandsof dollars for charity, and inhis senior year, serving asstudentbodypresident.

In January, Kayvonemailed to letme know howhisfirstsemesterhadgone.“Ifinished the first semesterwitha3.5,”hewrote.“ThreeA’s and one C. I’m notcompletelysatisfiedwith it. I

knowwhat I did right to gettheA’sandIknowwhatIdidwrongtogettheC.”

As for his poorest grade?“ThatCinEconomicscaughtup tome because Iwas in ahole from my conflictedthoughtsabout thisplaceandwhether I fit in. . . . I candefinitelydobetterthana3.5,and a 4.0 is not out of thequestion. My first semestermentalitywasthatIhavealotto learn from these kids.My

newmentalityisthatIhavealottoteachthem.”

The spring semesterwasn’t exactly smoothsailing,either.KayvonearnedabunchofA’s but didn’t donearly aswell as he’d hopedin his two quantitativecourses. We talked, briefly,about the option oftransferring out of Wharton,Penn’s highly competitivebusinessschool,andIpointedout that there was no shame

in switching into a differentmajor. Kayvon was havingnoneofit.

Here’sanexcerptfromhisemail to me in June:“Numbers and executingquantitative concepts havealways been difficult forme.But I embrace the challenge,andI’mgoingtoapplyallthegrit I have to improvingmyself and making myselfbetter, even if it meansgraduating with a GPA less

than what I would haveearned if I just majored insomething that didn’t requiremetomanipulatenumbers.”

I have no doubt thatKayvonwillkeepgettingup,time and again, alwayslearningandgrowing.

Collectively, the evidenceI’ve presented tells thefollowing story: A fixedmindsetaboutabilityleadsto

pessimistic explanations ofadversity, and that, in turn,leads to both giving up onchallengesandavoidingthemin the first place. In contrast,a growth mindset leads tooptimisticwaysofexplainingadversity, and that, in turn,leads to perseverance andseeking out new challengesthatwillultimatelymakeyouevenstronger.

My recommendation forteaching yourself hope is totakeeachstepinthesequenceaboveandask,WhatcanIdotoboostthisone?

Myfirstsuggestioninthatregard is to update yourbeliefsabout intelligenceandtalent.

When Carol and hercollaborators try to convincepeople that intelligence, oranyother talent,can improvewith effort, she starts by

explaining the brain. Forinstance,sherecountsastudypublishedinthetopscientificjournal Nature that trackedadolescent braindevelopment. Many of theadolescents in this studyincreased their IQ scoresfrom age fourteen, when thestudystarted,toageeighteen,when it concluded. This fact—that IQ scores are notentirelyfixedoveraperson’slifespan—usuallycomesasa

surprise.What’s more, Carolcontinues, these sameadolescents showed sizablechanges in brain structure:“Those who got better atmath skills strengthened theareas of the brain related tomath, and the samewas trueforEnglishskills.”

Carolalsoexplainsthatthebrain is remarkably adaptive.Like a muscle that getsstronger with use, the brainchanges itself when you

struggle to master a newchallenge. In fact, there’snevera time in lifewhen thebrain is completely “fixed.”Instead, all our lives, ourneuronsretainthepotentialtogrow new connections withoneanotherandtostrengthenthe ones we already have.What’s more, throughoutadulthood, we maintain theabilitytogrowmyelin,asortof insulating sheath thatprotects neurons and speeds

signals traveling betweenthem.

My next suggestion is topracticeoptimisticself-talk.

The link betweencognitive behavioral therapyand learned helplessness ledto the development of“resilience training.” Inessence, this interactivecurriculum is a preventativedose of cognitive behavioraltherapy. In one study,children who completed this

training showed lower levelsof pessimism and developedfewer symptoms ofdepression over the next twoyears. In a similar study,pessimistic college studentsdemonstrated less anxietyoverthesubsequenttwoyearsandlessdepressionoverthreeyears.

If, reading this chapter,you recognize yourself as anextremepessimist,myadviceis to find a cognitive

behavioral therapist. I knowhow unsatisfying thisrecommendation mightsound.Many years ago, as ateenager, I wrote to DearAbby about a problem Iwashaving. “Go see a therapist,”she wrote back. I recalltearing up her letter, angryshe didn’t propose a neater,faster, more straightforwardsolution. Nevertheless,suggesting that readingtwenty pages about the

science of hope is enough toremove an ingrainedpessimistic bias would benaive. There’smuchmore tosay about cognitivebehavioral therapy andresilience training than I cansummarizehere.

The point is that you can,infact,modifyyourself-talk,andyoucanlearntonotletitinterfere with you movingtoward your goals. Withpractice and guidance, you

can change the way youthink, feel, and, mostimportant,actwhenthegoinggetsrough.

Asatransitiontothefinalsection of this book,“Growing Grit from theOutside In,” letmeofferonefinal suggestion for teachingyourself hope: Ask for ahelpinghand.

A few years ago, I met aretired mathematician namedRhonda Hughes. Nobody in

Rhonda’s familyhadgone tocollege, but as a girl, shelikedmath a whole lot morethan stenography. Rhondaeventually earned a PhD inmathematics and, afterseventy-nine of her eightyapplications for a facultyposition were rejected, shetook a job at the singleuniversity that made her anoffer.

One reasonRhondagot intouchwas to tellme that she

hadan issuewithan itemonthe Grit Scale. “I don’t likethat item that says, ‘Setbacksdon’t discourage me.’ Thatmakesnosense.Imean,whodoesn’t get discouraged bysetbacks? I certainly do. Ithinkitshouldsay,‘Setbacksdon’tdiscouragemeforlong.Igetbackonmyfeet.’ ”

Of course, Rhonda wasright,andinsomanywords,Ichangedtheitemaccordingly.

But the most importantthingaboutRhonda’sstoryisthat she almost never gotback up all by herself.Instead, she figured out thatasking for help was a goodwaytoholdontohope.

Here’s just one of thestories she told me: “I hadthis mentor who knew, evenbeforeIdid,thatIwasgoingto be a mathematician. It allstarted when I’d done verypoorlyononeofhistests,and

Iwenttohisofficeandcried.Allofasudden,hejumpedupoutofhischairand,withoutaword, ran out of the room.When, finally, he came backhe said, ‘Young lady, youshould go to graduate schoolin mathematics. But you’retaking all of the wrongcourses.’ And he had all ofthe courses I should havebeen takingmapped out, andthe personal promises of

other faculty that they’dhelp.”

About twenty years ago,RhondacofoundedtheEDGEProgram with SylviaBozeman, a fellowmathematician. EDGE standsfor Enhancing Diversity inGraduate Education, and itsmission is to supportwomenand minority studentspursuing doctoral training inmathematics.“Peopleassumeyou have to have some

special talent to domathematics,” Sylvia hassaid. “They think you’reeither bornwith it, or you’renot. But Rhonda and I keepsaying,‘Youactuallydeveloptheabilitytodomathematics.Don’tgiveup!’ ”

“Therehavebeensomanytimes in my career when Iwanted to pack it in, when Iwanted to give up and dosomething easier,” Rhondatold me. “But there was

always someonewho, in oneway or another, told me tokeep going. I think everyoneneeds somebody like that.Don’tyou?”

I.There’s an expression in sports:“Race your strengths and trainyourweaknesses.”Iagreewiththewisdom of this adage, but I alsothink it’s important that peoplerecognize that skills improvewithpractice.

PartIII

GROWINGGRITFROMTHEOUTSIDEIN

Chapter10

PARENTINGFORGRIT

What can I do to encouragegritinthepeopleIcarefor?

I’m asked this question atleastonceaday.

Sometimes it’s a coachwho asks; sometimes it’s anentrepreneur or a CEO. Lastweek, it was a fourth-gradeteacher,andtheweekbefore,a math professor at acommunity college. I’ve hadarmy generals and navyadmirals toss me thisquestion, too, butmost oftenit’s a mother or father whoworries that their child isn’t

close to realizing theirpotential.

Allthepeoplequizzingmearethinkingasparentswould,ofcourse—evenifthey’renotparents. The word parentingderivesfromLatinandmeans“to bring forth.” You’reacting in a parentlike way ifyou’reaskingforguidanceonhow to best bring forthinterest, practice, purpose,and hope in the people youcarefor.

When I turn the tables andask people for their ownintuitions on how to “parentfor grit,” I get differentanswers.

Somebelievegritisforgedin the crucible of adversity.Others are quick toparaphrase Nietzsche: “Whatdoesn’t kill you makes youstronger.”I Such invocationsconjureanimageofscowlingmothers and fathers

dispensing endless criticismonthesidelinesofgamesthathad better be victories, orchaining their children to thepiano bench or violin stand,orgroundingthemforthesinofanA–.

This perspective assumesthat offering loving supportand demanding highstandards are two ends of acontinuum, with theauthoritarian parents of the

gritty far to the right ofcenter.

HadIbeenaroundtoseekopinions a century ago, suchwould have been theperspective of John Watson,then chair of psychology atJohnsHopkinsUniversity.

In his best-selling 1928parenting guide,Psychological Care of Infantand Child, Watson holdsforth on how to raise a child“who loses himself in work

and play,who quickly learnsto overcome the smalldifficulties in hisenvironment . . . and whofinally enters manhood sobulwarked with stable workand emotional habits that noadversity can quiteoverwhelmhim.”

Here’s Watson’s advice:“Never hug and kiss them.Neverletthemsitinyourlap.If you must, kiss them onceon the forehead when they

say good night. Shake handswith them in the morning.Givethemapatontheheadifthey have made anextraordinarily good job of adifficulttask.”Watsonfurtherrecommends letting childrencope with problems on theirown “almost from themoment of birth,” rotatingdifferentcaregiverstopreventunhealthy attachment to anyone adult, and otherwiseavoiding the coddling

affectionthatpreventsachildfrom“conqueringtheworld.”

Occasionally, of course,people take the oppositestance.

They’re convinced thatperseverance and especiallypassionbloomwhenchildrenare lavished withunconditional affection andsupport. These champions ofkinder and gentler parentingadvocate big hugs and longleashes and point out that

children are by their naturechallenge-seeking creatureswhose innate desire forcompetence needs only ourunconditional love andaffection to reveal itself.Once unfettered by thedemands of imperiousparents, children will followtheir own intrinsic interests,and disciplined practice andresilience in the face ofsetbackswillfollow.

Onthecontinuumbetweensupportive and demandingparenting, proponents of thispermissive “child-centered”approach fall to the left ofcenter.

Sowhich is it? Isgrit forgedin the crucible ofunrelentingly high standardsor is it nurtured in thewarmembraceoflovingsupport?

Asascientist,I’mtemptedto answer thatweneedmoreresearchonthetopic.There’salotofresearchonparenting,andsomeresearchongrit,butno research yet on parentingandgrit.

But as a mother of twoteenagers, I don’t have timefor all the data to come in.Like the parents asking methisquestion, I have tomakedecisions today.Mygirls aregrowing up, and each day of

their lives,myhusbandandIareparenting them,forbetterorforworse.What’smore,asaprofessorandalabdirector,I interact with dozens ofyoungpeople—andI’dliketoencouragetheirgrit,too.

So, as a step towardresolving the debate, I’veprobed the evidence for eachside. An advocate of old-fashioned, strict parentingsuggested I talk to gritparagon Steve Young, the

record-breaking quarterbackwhose Mormon upbringingincluded a daily paper route,Bible classes before school,and absolutely no cussing ordrinking. Meanwhile, anadvocate with a more liberalbent pointed me towardFrancesca Martinez, theoutspoken British stand-upcomic whose writer fatherand environmentalist motherallowed her to drop out ofschoolwhen shewas sixteen

and didn’t bat an eye whenshe titled her memoir Whatthe****IsNormal?!

Let’s begin with SteveYoung.

Thelegendaryquarterbackof the San Francisco 49erswas twice named MostValuable Player in theNational Football League.And he was selected MostValuable Player of Super

BowlXXIX,duringwhichhecompleted a record-breakingsix touchdown passes. Atretirement, he was thehighest-rated quarterback inNFLhistory.

“My parents were myfoundation,” Steve has said.“GoodparentingissomethingIwisheveryonecouldhave.”

Here’s a story to illustratehispoint.

ThoughStevehadbeenthestar of his high school

footballteamandwasheavilyrecruited by colleges acrossthe country, he enteredBrighamYoungUniversityastheir eighth-stringquarterback. Since sevenother quarterbacks stoodbetween Steve and playingtime,hiscoachrelegatedhimto the“hamburger squad”—aunit composed of the leastvaluable players whoseprimaryrolewastorunplays

so the BYU defensive linecouldpractice.

“Man, I wanted to gohome,” Steve recalled. “Iwenttoschoolmywholefirstsemester with my bagspacked. . . . I remembercalling [my dad] and justsaying, ‘Coaches don’t knowmy name. I’m just a bigtackling dummy for thedefense. Dad, it’s horrible.And this is just not what I

expected . . . and I think I’dliketocomehome.’ ”

Steve’s father, whomSteve describes as “theultimate tough guy,” toldhim: “You can quit. . . .Butyoucan’tcomehomebecauseI’m not going to live with aquitter. You’ve known thatsinceyouwereakid.You’renotcomingbackhere.”Stevestayed.

Allseason,Stevewasfirstto practice and last to leave.

Aftertheteam’slastgame,hestepped up his privateworkouts:“Therewasahugenet hanging at the far end ofthe field house. I squattedbehind an imaginary center;took the snap; did the three-step drop, and threw into thenet. From the beginning ofJanuary to the end ofFebruary,Ithrewover10,000spirals. My arm hurt. But Iwantedtobeaquarterback.”

Bysophomoreyear,Stevemovedupfromnumber-eightquarterback to number two.By his junior year, he wasBYU’s starting quarterback.In his senior year, Stevereceived the Davey O’Brienaward for the mostoutstanding quarterback inthecountry.

There were several othertimes in his athletic careerwhenhisconfidencefaltered.Each time, he wanted

desperately to quit. Eachtime,heappealedtohisfather—whowouldn’tlethim.

One early challenge camewhile playing baseball inmiddle school. “I wasthirteen,” Steve recalled. “Ididn’t get a hit the wholeyear,anditjustgotmoreandmoreembarrassing....Gameafter game, I couldn’t get ahit.”When theseasonended,Steve informed his dad thathe’d had it. “My dad looked

me straight in the eye andsaid, ‘You cannot quit. Youhave the ability, so you needto go back and work thisout.’ ” So Steve and his dadwent back to the field. “Irememberitbeingreallycoldand miserable and rainy andsleet and snow, and he’d bepitching the ball and I’d behitting them.” By his senioryear in high school, ascaptainofthevarsitybaseballteam,Stevewasbatting.384.

Thelessonthatpersistenceeventually delivers rewardswas one on which Stevereliedinthefouryearshesaton the bench with the SanFrancisco 49ers. Rather thanrequest a trade, Steveapprenticed himself to JoeMontana, the startingquarterback who captainedthe team to four SuperBowlvictories.“IfIwasevergoingto find out just how good Icouldget, Ineededtostayin

SanFranciscoandlearn,evenif it was brutally hard todo.. . .Imanytimesthoughtabout quitting. . . . I heardboos during my sleeplessnights,butIfearedcallingmydad. I knew what he’d say:‘Enduretotheend,Steve.’ ”

At this point inmy narrativeofSteveYoung’s improbableascent, you might concludethatparentsofgrittychildren

are authoritarian. You mightleap to the conclusion thatthey’recenteredontheirownstandards and fairlyinsensitive to their children’sparticularneeds.

Before you issue a finalverdict,though,sitdownwithSteve’s parents, Sherry andLeGrandeYoung.Andbeforeyou do, take note thatLeGrande prefers thechildhood nickname thataptlycaptureshisapproachto

life: “Grit.” “He’s all abouthard work and being toughand not whining,” Steve’sbrotherMikeoncesaidofhisfather. “The name really fitshim.”

As a corporate attorney,Grit Young seldommissed aday of work. About twenty-five years ago, Grit wasworking out at his localYMCA when a fellow gym-goer challenged him to anongoing sit-up competition.

Afterayear, eachmancoulddo about a thousand sit-upseach, at which point thechallenger bowed out. Bythen, Grit was competingagainst himself. He kept on,for years, until he could dotenthousandsit-upsinarow.

When I called to talk toSteve’s parents about theirfamous son and the waythey’d raisedhim, I expectedsternness and formality. Thefirst thing Sherry said was

“We’re delighted to talk toyou! Our Steve is a greatkid!” Grit then joked that,given my chosen field ofstudy,hewassurprisedithadtaken me so long to get tothem.

My shoulders softened abit,andIsatbackaseachtoldme how they’d learned towork hard early in life. “Wewere one generation off thefarm,” Sherry explained.“There were expectations.”

Sherry was picking cherriesbyageten.Gritdidthesame,and to earn money forbaseballmittsandclothes,hemowed lawns, deliverednewspapers on his bike tohouses miles apart, andpicked up whatever farmworkhecould.

Whenitcametimetoraisetheir children, both SherryandGritverydeliberatelysetout to provide the samechallenges. “My goal was to

teach them discipline,” Gritsaid,“andtogoatthingshardlikeIlearnedtodo.Youhaveto learn those things. Theydon’t just happen. It wasimportant to me to teach thekids to finish what youbegin.”

In no uncertain terms,Steve and his siblings weremade to understand that,whatever they signed up for,theyhad to see it through tothe end. “We told them,

you’ve got to go to all thepractices.Youcan’tsay,‘Oh,I’m tired of this.’ Once youcommit, you disciplineyourself to do it. There’sgoing to be times you don’twanttogo,butyou’vegottogo.”

Sounds strict, right? Itwas.Butifyoulistenclosely,you’ll discover that theYoungs were alsotremendouslysupportive.

Steve tells the story ofgetting tackled playing PopWarner football as a nine-year-old and looking up tosee his mom, still carryingher purse, striding right pasthim to grab a boy on theopposing team by theshoulderpadstotellhimthathewouldnotbeillegallynecktackling Steve again. AsSteve and his siblings gotolder, their home became afavorite hangout. “Our

basement was always filledwithkids,”Sherrysays.

As a corporate attorney,Grit traveled often. “Mostguys I knew would stay forthe weekend, wherever wewere, because you wouldn’tbe finished with yourbusiness on Friday, and youhadtostartagainonMonday.Notme.Ialways,alwaysdideverything I could to gethome for the weekend.”Occasionally, weekend trips

home were alsodemonstrations of thecharacterthathadearnedGrithisnickname:“OnceIwasinMontana negotiating with analuminumplant.Fridaynight,I take a taxi down to theairport,andit’sallfoggedin.All the flights werecanceled.”

I consideredwhat Imightdo in the same situation, andthen blushed a bit as Ilistened to the rest of the

story.Gritrentedacar,droveto Spokane, took a flight toSeattle, then a second flightto San Francisco, and finallya third flight—a red-eye thatarrived at JFK the nextmorningatdawn.Hethengotin another rental car anddrove back to Greenwich,Connecticut.“I’mnotpattingmyself on the back,” Gritsaid.“It’sjustthatIthoughtitwas important to bewith thekids, to support them,

whether it was athleticactivitiesoranythingelse.”

Sherry andGritwere alsoattuned to their children’semotional needs. Steve, forexample, was especiallyanxious. “We noticed therewere thingshewouldn’tdo,”Grit said. “When he was insecond grade, he refused togo to school. When he wastwelve, he wouldn’t go toBoy Scout camp. He neverslept over at another kid’s

house. He just wouldn’t doit.”

It was hard for me tosquare the image of SteveYoung, fearless all-starquarterback, with the timidboy Sherry and Grit weredescribing. Likewise, neitherSherry norGrit had any ideawhat to make of their oldestson’s fearfulness. One time,Gritsays,hewent topickupStevefromschooltotakehimtohisuncleandaunt’shouse

fortheday,andStevesimplycouldn’t stop sobbing. Hewaspetrifiedtobeawayfromhis own home. Grit wasflabbergasted. I waited tohear how he and Sherryreacted. Did they tell theirson to man up? Did theyremove some of hisprivileges?

No and no. Grit’sdescriptionof thetalkhehadwith his son when Steverefusedtogotoschoolmakes

it clear Grit did morequestioningandlisteningthanlecturing and criticizing: “Isaid, ‘Well, is somebodypicking on you?’ He says,‘No.’ Do you like yourteacher? ‘I lovemy teacher.’Well, why don’t you go toschool? ‘I don’t know. I justdon’twanttogotoschool.’ ”

Sherry ended up sitting inSteve’s second-gradeclassroom forweeks until, atlong last, Steve felt

comfortable going to schoolbyhimself.

“It was separationanxiety,”Sherrytoldme.“Atthe time, we didn’t knowwhat to call it.Butwe couldtell he was all tight inside,andwe knew that he neededtoworkthroughallthat.”

Later,when I askedSteveto elaborate on his firsttroubled semester at BYU, Ipointed out that, if someoneheard only that anecdote and

nothing else, they mightconcludethathisfather,Grit,was a tyrant. What kind ofparent could refuse a son hispleatoreturnhome?

“Okay,” Steve said. “Allright. Everything iscontextual,right?”

Ilistened.“The contextwas thatmy

dad knew me. He knew all Iwanted to do was sprinthome,andheknewthatifhe

let me do that, it would belettingmegiveintomyfears.

“It was a loving act,”Steve concluded. “It wastough,butitwasloving.”

Butit’safinelinebetweentoughloveandbullying,isn’tit?What’sthedifference?

“I knew the decision wasmine,” Steve said. “And Iknewmydaddidn’twantmeto be him. Number one, aparent needs to set a stagethat proves to the child, ‘I’m

nottryingtojusthaveyoudowhatIsay,controlyou,makeyoubelikeme,makeyoudowhat I did, ask you to makeup forwhat I didn’t do.’Mydad showed me early that itwasn’tabouthimandwhatheneeded. It truly was ‘I’mgivingyouallIgot.’

“There was an underlyingselflessness to the toughlove,” Steve continued. “Ithinkthat’svital.Ifanyofthetoughloveisabouttheparent

just trying to control you,well, kids smell it out. Inevery way possible, I knewmy parents were saying,‘We’re looking to see yoursuccess.We’ve leftourselvesbehind.’ ”

IfgettingtoknowtheYoungshelps you understand that“toughlove”isn’tnecessarilyacontradictioninterms,holdthat thought—and meet

Francesca Martinez and herparents,TinaandAlex.

NamedbytheObserverasoneof thefunniestcomics inBritain, Francesca performsto sold-out audiences aroundthe world. In a typicalroutine, she breaks the no-cussing rule of the Youngfamily, and after the show,she’s sure to violate thedrinkingprohibition.Likeherparents, Francesca is alifelong vegetarian, not

religious, and politically,somewhere to the left ofprogressive.

Francesca was diagnosedwith cerebral palsy at agetwo. She prefers the term“wobbly.” Told that theirbrain-damaged daughterwould “never lead a normallife,” Tina and Alex quicklydecided that no doctor couldforetell who their daughtermight become. Achievingcomedicstardomtakesgritno

matter who you are, butperhaps more so when it’s achallengemerelytoenunciateyour consonants or walk tothe stage. So, like otheraspiring comics, Francescahas endured four-hour drives(eachway)toperformfortenminutesfornopayandmadecountless cold calls toimpassiveandbusytelevisionproducers.Butunlikemostofher peers, she needs to do

breathingandvoiceexercisesbeforeeachshow.

“Idon’ttakecreditformyhard work and passion,” shetold me. “I think thesequalities came from myfamily, which was veryloving and very stable. Theiroverwhelming support andpositivityarewhythereisnolimittomyambition.”

Not surprisingly,counselors at Francesca’sschool were doubtful of

entertainmentasacareerpathfor a girl who struggled towalk and talk at a normalcadence. They were evenmore wary of her droppingout of high school to do so.“Oh, Francesca,” they’d saywith a sigh, “think aboutsomething more sensible.Likecomputers.”Thethoughtofanoffice jobwasaboutashorrible a fate as Francescacouldimagine.Sheaskedherparentswhatsheshoulddo.

“Go and follow yourdreams,” Alex told hisdaughter, “and if they don’twork out, then you canreassess.”

“My mum was just asencouraging,”Francescasaid.Then, with a smile:“Basically, they were happyfor me to leave formaleducationatsixteentoactontelevision.Theyletmespendmy weekends clubbing withfriends, surrounded by leery

men and cocktails withsexuallyexplicitnames.”

I asked Alex about his“follow your dream” advice.Before explaining, heremindedmethatFrancesca’sbrother Raoul was alsoallowed to drop out of highschool—toapprenticehimselfto a renowned portraitpainter. “We never putpressureon eitherof them tobecomedoctorsorlawyersoranything like that. I truly

believe that when you dosomethingyoureallywant todo, it becomes a vocation.Francescaandherbrotherareincredibly hard workers, butthey feel passionately abouttheir subjects, so to them it’snotatalloppressive.”

Tinaagreedentirely:“I’vealways had an instinctivesensethat lifeandnatureandevolution have planted inchildren their owncapabilities—their own

destiny. Like a plant, ifthey’refedandwateredintherightway, theywill grow upbeautiful and strong. It’s justa question of creating therightenvironment—asoilthatis nurturing, that is listeningandresponsivetotheirneeds.Children carry within themtheseedsoftheirownfuture.Their own interests willemergeifwetrustthem.”

Francesca connects theunconditionalsupportthather

“absurdly cool” parentslavished on her to the hopeshe maintained even whenhope seemed lost: “So muchof sticking with things isbelievingyoucando it.Thatbeliefcomesfromself-worth.And that comes from howothers have made us feel inourlives.”

So far, Alex and Tinaseem the epitome ofpermissiveparenting. I asked

them whether they seethemselvesassuch.

“Actually,” Alex said, “Ithink I’m allergic to spoiledchildren. Children must belovedandaccepted,but then,without complications, theyneed to be taught: ‘No, youcannot hit your sister on theheadwiththatstick.Yes,youmustshare.No,youdon’tgetto have everything you wantwhen you want it.’ It’s no-nonsenseparenting.”

As an example, Alexpushed Francesca to do thephysical therapy exercisesprescribed by her doctors.She hated them. For years,she and her father battled.Francesca couldn’tunderstand why she couldn’tsimply work around herlimitations,andAlexbelievedhisresponsibilitywastostandfirm.Asshesaysinherbook:“Though happy in manyways,thenextfewyearswere

punctuatedwith intense rowsrepletewithdoor-bangingandtears and the throwing ofobjects.”

Whether these skirmishescould have been handledmore skillfully is an openquestion—Alex believes hecould have done a better jobexplaining to his youngdaughter why he was soinsistent.Thatmaybeso,butwhat really strikes me aboutthis aspect of Francesca’s

childhood is the notion thatan affectionate, follow-your-dreams parent cannevertheless feel compelledto lay down the law onmatters of discipline.Suddenly, the one-dimensionalviewofAlexandTina as hippy-dippy parentsseemsincomplete.

Itwastelling,forexample,tohearAlex,whoisawriter,talk about the work ethic hemodeledforhischildren:“To

finishthings,youhavetoputthe work in. When I wasyounger, I’d meet manypeople who were writingstuff. They’d say tome, ‘Ohyeah, I am a writer as wellbut I’ve never finishedanything.’Well, in that case,youarenotawriter.Youarejustsomebodywhositsdownandwrites things on a bit ofpaper. If you’ve gotsomething to say, go aheadandsayitandfinishit.”

Tina agrees that as muchas children need freedom,theyalsoneedlimits.She’satutor as well as anenvironmental activist, andshe’swatchedalotofparentsengage in what she callsbegging-and-pleadingnegotiations with theirchildren. “We taught ourchildren to live by clearprinciples and moralguidelines,” she said. “Weexplained our reasoning, but

they always knew where theboundarieswere.

“And there was notelevision,”sheadded.“I feltit was a hypnotic medium,andIdidn’twantittoreplaceinteractions with people. Sowe simply didn’t have atelevision. If the childrenwanted to watch somethingspecial,theywouldwalkovertotheirgrandparents’.”

What can we learn from thestories of Steve Young andFrancesca Martinez? Andwhatcanwegleanfromhowother grit paragons describetheirparents?

In fact, I’ve noticed apattern. For those of us whowant to parent for grit, thepattern is a helpful blueprint,aguide formaking themanydecisions we must grapplewith while raising ourchildren.

Before I saymore, letmerepeat the caveat that, as ascientist, I’d like to collectmanymoredatapointsbeforecoming to firm conclusions.Inadecade, Ishouldknowalot more about parenting forgrit than I do now. Butbecause there’s no pausebutton for parenting thepeoplewe care about, I’ll goahead and tell you myhunches. In large part, I’mencouraged to do so because

the pattern I’ve observedmatches up with dozens ofcarefully executed researchstudies on parenting (but notgrit). The pattern alsomakessense, given what’s beenlearned about humanmotivationsinceJohnWatsondispensed his Don’t Coddle’em advice. And, finally, thepatternIseematchesupwiththe interviews of world-classathletes, artists, and scholarscompleted by psychologist

Benjamin Bloom and histeamthirtyyearsago.Thoughparentingwasnottheexplicitfocus of the Bloom study—parents were originallyincluded as “observers toverify”biographicaldetails—the importance of parentingended up as one of itsmajorconclusions.

HereiswhatIsee.First and foremost, there’s

noeither/ortrade-offbetweensupportive parenting and

demanding parenting. It’s acommonmisunderstanding tothink of “tough love” as acarefully struck balancebetweenaffectionandrespecton the one hand, and firmlyenforced expectations on theother. In actuality, there’s noreason you can’t do both.Very clearly, this is exactlywhat the parents of SteveYoung and FrancescaMartinez did. The Youngswere tough, but they were

also loving. The Martinezeswere loving, but they werealso tough. Both familieswere “child-centered” in thesense that they clearly puttheirchildren’s interests first,but neither family felt thatchildren were always thebetter judge of what to do,howhard towork, andwhentogiveuponthings.

Below is a figurerepresenting how manypsychologists now categorize

parenting styles. Instead ofonecontinuum,therearetwo.In the upper right-handquadrant are parentswho areboth demanding andsupportive. The technicalterm is “authoritativeparenting,” which,unfortunately is easilyconfused with “authoritarianparenting.” To avoid suchconfusion, I’ll refer toauthoritative parenting aswise parenting, because

parents in this quadrant areaccurate judges of thepsychological needs of theirchildren.Theyappreciatethatchildren need love, limits,andlatitudetoreachtheirfullpotential. Their authority isbased on knowledge andwisdom,ratherthanpower.

In the other quadrants arethreeothercommonparentingstyles, including theundemanding, unsupportiveapproach to raising childrenexemplified by neglectfulparents. Neglectful parenting

creates an especially toxicemotional climate, but Iwon’tsaymuchmoreaboutithere because it’s not even aplausible contender for howparentsofthegrittyraisetheirchildren.

Authoritarian parents aredemandingandunsupportive,exactly the approach JohnWatson advocated forstrengthening character inchildren. Permissive parents,

by contrast, are supportiveandundemanding.

When psychologist LarrySteinberg delivered his 2001presidential address to theSociety for Research onAdolescence, he proposed amoratorium on furtherresearch on parenting stylesbecause, as he saw it, therewassomuchevidenceforthebenefits of supportive anddemanding parenting thatscientists could profitably

move on to thornier researchquestions. Indeed, over thepast forty years, study aftercarefully designed study hasfound that the children ofpsychologically wise parentsfare better than childrenraised in any other kind ofhousehold.

In one of Larry’s studies,for example, about tenthousandAmerican teenagerscompleted questionnairesabout theirparents’behavior.

Regardless of gender,ethnicity, social class, orparents’ marital status, teenswith warm, respectful, anddemanding parents earnedhighergradesinschool,weremore self-reliant, sufferedfrom less anxiety anddepression, and were lesslikelytoengageindelinquentbehavior. The same patternreplicates in nearly everynationthat’sbeenstudiedandat every stage of child

development. Longitudinalresearch indicates that thebenefits are measurableacrossadecadeormore.

One of themajor discoveriesof parenting research is thatwhat matters more than themessages parents aim todeliverarethemessagestheirchildrenreceive.

What may appear to betextbook authoritarian

parenting—a no-televisionpolicy, for example, or aprohibition against swearing—may or may not becoercive. Alternatively, whatmay seem permissive—say,letting a child drop out ofhigh school—may simplyreflectdifferencesintherulesparentsvalueasimportant.Inother words, don’t passjudgment on that parentlecturing their child in thesupermarket cereal aisle. In

most cases, you don’t haveenoughcontext tounderstandhow the child interprets theexchange, and, at the end ofthe day, it’s the child’sexperiencethatreallymatters.

Areyouapsychologicallywise parent? Use theparenting assessment on thenext page, developed bypsychologist and parentingexpert Nancy Darling, as achecklist to find out. Howmany of these statements

would your child affirmwithouthesitation?

You’llnotice thatsomeoftheitemsareitalicized.Theseare “reverse-coded” items,meaning that if your childagreeswiththem,youmaybeless psychologically wisethanyouthink.

Supportive:Warm

IcancountonmyparentstohelpmeoutifIhave

aproblem.Myparentsspendtimejust

talkingtome.MyparentsandIdothings

thatarefuntogether.Myparentsdon’treallylikemetotellthemmytroubles.

Myparentshardlyeverpraisemefordoingwell.

Supportive:Respectful

MyparentsbelieveIhavearighttomyownpoint

ofview.MyparentstellmethattheirideasarecorrectandthatIshouldn’tquestionthem.

Myparentsrespectmyprivacy.

Myparentsgivemealotoffreedom.

MyparentsmakemostofthedecisionsaboutwhatIcando.

Demanding

Myparentsreallyexpectmetofollowfamilyrules.

Myparentsreallyletmegetawaywiththings.

MyparentspointoutwaysIcoulddobetter.

WhenIdosomethingwrong,myparentsdon’tpunishme.

Myparentsexpectmetodomybestevenwhenit’shard.

Growing up with support,respect, and high standardsconfers a lot of benefits, oneof which is especiallyrelevant to grit—in otherwords, wise parentingencourages children toemulatetheirparents.

To a certain extent, ofcourse, young childrenimitate their mothers andfathers. When we havenothing else to go by, whatother choice do we have,

really, than to mimic theaccents, habits, and attitudesof thepeople aroundus?Wetalk like they talk. We eatwhattheyeat.Weadopttheirlikesanddislikes.

Ayoungchild’sinstincttocopyadults isverystrong.Ina classic psychologyexperiment conducted morethan fifty years ago atStanford University, forexample, preschoolerswatched adults play with a

varietyof toysandthenweregiven theopportunity toplaywith the toys themselves.Half of the boys and girlswatchedanadultquietlyplaywith Tinkertoys whileignoring a child-size,inflatable doll in the sameroom. The other half of thechildren watched the adultbegin assembling theTinkertoys and, after aminute, turn to viciouslyattack the doll. The adult

pummeled the doll with hisfistsandthenamallet,tossedthe doll up in the air and,finally, while screaming andyelling, aggressively kickedthedollabouttheroom.

When given anopportunity to play with thesame toys, children who’dseen adults play quietlyfollowed suit. In contrast,children who’d watchedadults beat up the doll werelikewise aggressive, in many

cases so closely imitatingviolent adults they’d seenearlier that researchersdescribed their behavior asvirtual“carboncopies.”

Andyet,there’saworldofdifference between imitationandemulation.

As we grow older, wedevelopthecapacitytoreflecton our actions and passjudgmentonwhatweadmireand disdain in others. Whenour parents are loving,

respectful, and demanding,we not only follow theirexample,werevereit.Wenotonly comply with theirrequests, we understand whythey’re making them. Webecome especially eager topursue the same interests—for instance, it’s nocoincidence that SteveYoung’sfatherwashimselfastandout football player atBYU, or that FrancescaMartinez, like her father,

developed an early love ofwriting.

Benjamin Bloom and histeam noted the same patternintheirstudiesofworld-classperformers. Almost withoutexception, thesupportiveanddemanding parents inBloom’s studywere “modelsof theworkethicin that theywere regarded as hardworkers,theydidtheirbestinwhatever they tried, theybelieved that work should

come before play, and thatone should work towarddistantgoals.”Further,“mostoftheparentsfounditnaturaltoencouragetheirchildrentoparticipate in their favoredactivities.” Indeed, one ofBloom’s summaryconclusions was that“parents’ own interestssomehow get communicatedto the child. . . . We foundover and over again that theparents of the pianistswould

send their child to the tennislessons but they would taketheir child to the pianolessons. And we found justthe opposite for the tennishomes.”

It’s indeed remarkablehow many paragons of grithave toldme,with pride andawe, that their parents aretheir most admired andinfluential role models. Andit’s just as telling that somany paragons have, in one

way or another, developedverysimilarintereststothoseoftheirparents.Clearly,theseexemplarsofgritgrewupnotjustimitatingtheirparentsbutalsoemulatingthem.

This logic leads to thespeculative conclusion thatnot all children withpsychologically wise parentswill grow up to be gritty,because not allpsychologically wise parentsmodelgrittiness.Thoughthey

may be both supportive anddemanding, upper-right-quadrantmomsanddadsmayormaynotshowpassionandperseverance for long-termgoals.

If youwant to bring forthgrit in your child, first askhow much passion andperseverance you have foryourownlifegoals.Thenaskyourself how likely it is thatyour approach to parentingencourages your child to

emulateyou.Iftheanswertothe first question is “a greatdeal,”andyouranswertothesecond is “very likely,”you’re already parenting forgrit.

It’s not just mothers andfathers who lay thefoundationforgrit.

There’salargerecosystemofadults thatextendsbeyondthe nuclear family. All of us

are“parents”toyoungpeopleother than our own childreninthesensethat,collectively,we are responsible for“bringing forth” the nextgeneration. In this role ofsupportive but demandingmentors to other people’schildren,wecanhaveahugeimpact.

Technology entrepreneurTobi Lütke is a grit paragonwhohadsuchamentorinhislife. Tobi dropped out of his

Germanhighschoolwhenhewas sixteen without anymemorably positive learningexperiences.Asanapprenticeatanengineeringcompanyinhishometown,hemetJürgen,aprogrammerwhoworkedinasmallroominthebasement.Tobi affectionately describedJürgen as “a long-haired,fifty-something, grizzledrockerwhowould have beenright at home in any HellsAngels gang.” Under his

tutelage,Tobidiscoveredthatthe learning disabilities he’dbeen diagnosed with as afailing studentdidnothing tohamper his progress as acomputerprogrammer.

“Jürgen was a masterteacher,” Tobi said. “Hecreated an environment inwhich it was not onlypossible but easy to movethrough ten years of careerdevelopmenteveryyear.”

Eachmorning,Tobiwouldarrive at work to find aprintout of the code he’dwritten the day before,covered in red marker withcomments, suggestions, andcorrections. Jürgen wasunsparing in pointing outspecific ways Tobi’s workcould be better. “This taughtmenottotanglemyegoupinthe code I write,” Tobi said.“There are always ways toimprove it and getting this

feedbackisagift.”One day, Jürgen asked

Tobi to lead a softwareassignment for GeneralMotors. The company gaveTobi extramoney to buy hisfirst suit for the presentationand installation. Tobiexpected Jürgen todo all thetalking,butthedaybeforetheinstallation, Jürgen casuallyturned to Tobi and told himhehadsomewhereelsetobe.Tobi would be visiting

GeneralMotorsalone.Fulloftrepidation, Tobi went. Theinstallationwasasuccess.

“This pattern kept onrepeating itself,” Tobi said.“Jürgen somehow knew theextent of my comfort zoneand manufactured situationswhichwereslightlyoutsideit.Iovercamethemthroughtrialanderror, throughdoing. . . .Isucceeded.”

Tobi went on to foundShopify, a softwarecompany

thatpowerstensofthousandsof online stores and recentlyexceeded $100 million inrevenue.

Infact,emergingresearchonteaching suggests uncannyparallels to parenting. Itseems that psychologicallywise teachers can make ahugedifferenceinthelivesoftheirstudents.

RonFergusonisaHarvardeconomist who has collectedmore data comparingeffective and ineffectiveteachers thananyoneIknow.In one recent study, Ronpartnered with the GatesFoundation to study studentsand teachers in 1,892different classrooms. Hefound that teachers who aredemanding—whose studentssay of them, “My teacheraccepts nothing less than our

best effort,”and“Students inthisclassbehavethewaymyteacher wants them to”—produce measurable year-to-year gains in the academicskills of their students.Teachers who are supportiveand respectful—whosestudents say, “My teacherseems to know if somethingis bothering me,” and “Myteacherwantsus toshareourthoughts”—enhancestudents’happiness,voluntaryeffort in

class,andcollegeaspirations.It’spossible,Ronfinds,to

be a psychologically wiseteacher,justasit’spossibletobe permissive, authoritarian,or negligent. And it’s thewise teachers who seem topromote competence inaddition to well-being,engagement, and high hopesforthefuture.

Recently, psychologistsDavid Yeager and GeoffCohen ran an experiment to

see what effect the messageof high expectations inconjunction with unflaggingsupporthadonstudents.Theyasked seventh-grade teachersto provide written feedbackon student essays, includingsuggestions for improvementand any words ofencouragement they wouldnormally give. Per usual,teachers filled themarginsofthe students’ essays withcomments.

Next, teachers passed allof the marked-up essays toresearchers, who randomlysorted them into two piles.On half of the essays,researchers affixed a Post-itnotethatread:I’mgivingyouthesecommentssothatyou’llhavefeedbackonyourpaper.Thiswas the placebo controlcondition.

On the other half of theessays, researchers affixed aPost-it note that read: I’m

giving you these commentsbecause I have very highexpectations and I know thatyoucanreachthem.Thiswasthewisefeedbackcondition.

Sothatteacherswouldnotsee which student receivedwhich note, and so thatstudentswouldnotnoticethatsome of their classmates hadreceivedadifferentnotethanthey had, researchers placedeach essay in a folder for

teachers to hand back to thestudentsduringclass.

Students were then giventhe option to revise theiressaysthefollowingweek.

When the essays werecollected, David discoveredthat about 40 percent of thestudents who’d received theplacebo control Post-it notedecided to turn in a revisedessay, compared to abouttwice that number—80percent of the students—

who’d received the Post-itnote communicating wisefeedback.

Ina replicationstudywitha different sample, studentswho received the wisefeedback Post-it—“I’mgiving you these commentsbecause I have very highexpectations and I know thatyou can reach them”—madetwice as many edits to theiressays as students in theplacebocontrolcondition.

Most certainly, Post-itnotesarenosubstituteforthedailygestures,comments,andactions that communicatewarmth, respect, and highexpectations. But theseexperimentsdoilluminatethepowerful motivating effectthat a simple message canhave.

Not every grit paragon hashad the benefit of a wise

father and mother, but everyone I’ve interviewed couldpoint tosomeone in their lifewho,at the right time and inthe right way, encouragedthem to aim high andprovided badly neededconfidenceandsupport.

ConsiderCodyColeman.A couple of years ago,

Codysentmeanemail.He’dseenmyTEDtalkongritandwanted to know if we couldtalk sometime. He thought

perhaps his personal storymight be helpful. He wasmajoring in electricalengineering and computerscience at MIT and was onthecuspofgraduatingwithanear-perfect GPA. From hisperspective, talent andopportunity had very little todowithhisaccomplishments.Instead, success had been allabout passion andperseverance sustained overyearsandyears.

“Sure, I said, “let’s talk.”Here’swhatIlearned.

Codywasbornthirtymileseast of Trenton, New Jersey,at the Monmouth CountyCorrectional Institution. Hismother was declared insaneby the FBI and, when Codycame along, was imprisonedfor threatening to kill asenator’s child. Cody hasnever met his father. Cody’sgrandmother took legalcustody of Cody and his

brothers, and probably savedhis life by doing so. But shewasnotaprototypicallywiseparent.Shemayhavewantedto be loving and strict, butbothherbodyandmindwereindecline.AsCodydescribesit, he was soon doing moreparenting—and cooking andcleaning—thanshewas.

“We were poor,” Codyexplained. “Whenmy schooldidfooddrives,thefoodwentto my family, because we

were the poorest in theneighborhood. And theneighborhooditselfwasn’tallthat great.My school districtscored below average ineverycategoryimaginable.

“Tomakemattersworse,”Cody continued, “I wasn’treally an athletic or smartperson. I started out inremedialEnglishclasses.Mymath scoreswere average, atbest.”

Andthenwhathappened?

“One day, my oldestbrother—he was eighteenyears older than me—hecomes home. It was thesummer after my freshmanyearinhighschool.Hedroveup fromVirginia to pick meup to spend two weeks withhim,andonthedrivebacktohis place, he turns and asksme, ‘Where do you want togotocollege?’ ”

Cody told him, “I don’tknow. . . . I want to go to a

good school. Maybesomewhere like Princeton.”And then immediately, hetookitback:“There’snowayaschoollikePrincetonwouldacceptme.”

“Why wouldn’t Princetontake you?” Cody’s brotheraskedhim.“You’redoingallright in school. If you workharder, if you keep pushingyourself, you can get to thatlevel. You have nothing tolosebytrying.”

“That’s when a switchflipped in my head,” Codysaid. “I went from ‘Whybother?’ to ‘Why not?’ Iknew I might not get into areally good college, but Ifigured, if I try, I have achance. If I never try, then Ihavenochanceatall.”

Thenextyear,Codythrewhimself into his schoolwork.ByjunioryearhewasearningstraightAs.Asasenior,Codyset about finding the best

college in the country forcomputer science andengineering. He changed hisdream school from Princetonto MIT. During thistransformativeperiod,hemetChantel Smith, anexceptionally wise mathteacher who all but adoptedhim.

It was Chantel who paidforCody’sdriving lessons. Itwas Chantel who collected a“college dorm fund” to pay

for the supplies he’d needonce he moved. It wasChantelwhomailedsweaters,hats,gloves,andwarmsocksto him for the cold Bostonwinters, who worried abouthim every day, whowelcomed him home eachholiday break, who stood byCody at his grandmother’sfuneral. It was in Chantel’shome that Cody firstexperienced waking onChristmas morning to

presents with his name onthem, where he decoratedEastereggsfor thefirst time,and where, at the age oftwenty-four, he had his firstfamilybirthdayparty.

MIT wasn’t entirelysmooth sailing, but the newchallenges came with an“ecosystem of support,” asCody put it. Deans,professors, older students inhisfraternity,roommates,andfriends—compared to what

he’dexperiencedgrowingup,MITwasahavenofattention.

After graduating with tophonors,Codystayedontogethis master’s in electricalengineering and computerscience, earning a perfectGPA while doing so and, atthesametime,fieldingoffersfrom doctoral programs andSiliconValleyrecruiters.

In deciding between animmediately lucrative careerand graduate school, Cody

didsomehardthinkingabouthowhe’d gotten towhere hewas. Next fall, he’ll begin aPhD program in computerscience at Stanford. Here’sthe first sentence from hisapplication essay: “Mymission is to utilize mypassion for computer scienceand machine learning tobenefitsocietyatlarge,whileserving as an example ofsuccess that will shape thefutureofoursociety.”

So,CodyColemandidnothave a psychologically wisemother, father, orgrandparent. I wish he had.What he did have was abrother who said the rightthing at the right time, anextraordinarily wise andwonderful high school mathteacher, and an ecosystemofother teachers, mentors, andfellow students whocollectively showed him

what’s possible and helpedhimtogetthere.

Chantel refuses to takecredit for Cody’s success.“The truth is that Cody hastouched my life more thanI’ve touchedhis.He’s taughtmethatnothingisimpossibleandno goal is beyond reach.He’s one of the kindesthuman beings I have evermet, and I couldn’t beprouder when he calls me‘Mom.’ ”

A local radio stationrecently interviewed Cody.Toward the end of theconversation, Cody wasasked what he had to say tolisteners struggling toovercome similar lifecircumstances. “Staypositive,” Cody said. “Gopast those negative beliefs inwhat’s possible andimpossible and just give it atry.”

Cody had these finalwords:“Youdon’tneedtobeaparent tomakeadifferencein someone’s life. If you justcare about them and get toknow what’s going on, youcan make an impact. Try tounderstand what’s going onin their life and help themthrough that. That’ssomething I experiencedfirsthand. It made thedifference.”

I. When I hear that, I sometimesinterrupt with a précis of SteveMaier’s research showing that, infact, finding a way out of thesuffering is what does thestrengthening.

Chapter11

THEPLAYINGFIELDSOFGRIT

Oneday,whenshewasaboutfour years old, my daughterLucy sat at thekitchen table,strugglingtoopenalittleboxof raisins. She was hungry.Shewantedthoseraisins.Butthetopofthatboxstubbornlyresisted her efforts. After aminute or so, she put downtheunopenedboxwithasighand wandered off. I waswatching fromanother room,and Inearlygasped.Ohgod,my daughter has been

defeated by a box of raisins!Whataretheoddsshe’llgrowuptohaveanygrit?

I rushed over andencouragedLucytotryagain.I did my best to be bothsupportive and demanding.Nevertheless,sherefused.

Not long after, I found aballet studio around thecornerandsignedherup.

Likealotofparents,Ihada strong intuition that grit isenhanced by doing activities

likeballet...orpiano...orfootball . . . or really anystructured extracurricularactivity. These activitiespossess two importantfeatures that are hard toreplicate inanyother setting.First, there’s an adult incharge—ideally, a supportiveand demanding one—who isnot the parent. Second, thesepursuits are designed tocultivate interest, practice,purpose,andhope.Theballet

studio, the recital hall, thedojo,thebasketballcourt,thegridiron—these are theplayingfieldsofgrit.

The evidence onextracurricular activities isincomplete. I cannot point toa single study in which kidshavebeenrandomlyassignedto play a sport or musicalinstrument, compete on thedebate team, hold an after-

school job, or work on theschool newspaper. If youthink about it for a moment,you’llrealizewhy.Noparentwants to volunteer their kidsto do things (or not) by theflipofacoin,and forethicalreasons, no scientist canreallyforcekidstostayin(orout)ofactivities.

Nevertheless, as a parentand as a social scientist, Iwould recommend that, assoon as your child is old

enough, you find somethingthey might enjoy doingoutsideofclassandsignthemup. In fact, if I couldwaveamagicwand, I’d have all thechildren in the world engageinat leastoneextracurricularactivityoftheirchoice,andasfor those in high school, I’drequirethattheystickwithatleast one activity for morethanayear.

Do I think every momentof a child’s day should be

scripted?Not at all.But Idothink kids thrive when theyspend at least some part oftheir week doing hard thingsthatinterestthem.

Like I said, the evidence forsuch a bold recommendationis incomplete. But theresearch that has been doneis, in my view, highlysuggestive.Putitalltogether,and you have a compelling

case for kids learning grit atthe elbow of a wise balletinstructor, football coach, orviolinteacher.

For starters, a fewresearchers have equippedkids with beepers so that,throughout the day, they canbe prompted to report onwhat they’re doing and howtheyfeelatthatverymoment.When kids are in class, theyreport feeling challenged—but especially unmotivated.

Hanging out with friends, incontrast, is not verychallenging but super fun.And what aboutextracurricular activities?Whenkidsareplayingsportsormusicorrehearsingfortheschool play, they’re bothchallenged and having fun.There’s no other experiencein the lives of young peoplethat reliably provides thiscombinationofchallengeandintrinsicmotivation.

The bottom line of thisresearch is this: School’shard, but for many kids it’snot intrinsically interesting.Texting your friends isinteresting, but it’s not hard.But ballet? Ballet can beboth.

In-the-moment experience isone thing, but what aboutlong-term benefits? Do

extracurriculars pay off inanymeasurableway?

There are countlessresearch studies showing thatkids who are more involvedin extracurriculars fare betteron just about everyconceivable metric—theyearn better grades, havehigher self-esteem, are lesslikelytogetintroubleandsoforth. A handful of thesestudies are longitudinal,meaning that researchers

waited to seewhat happenedto kids later in life. Theselonger-term studies come tothe same conclusion: moreparticipation in activitiespredictsbetteroutcomes.

The same research clearlyindicates that overdosing onextracurricularsisprettyrare.These days, the averageAmerican teenager reportsspending more than threehours a day watchingtelevision and playing video

games. Additional time isdrainedawaycheckingsocialmedia feeds, texting friendslinks to cat videos, andtracking the Kardashians astheyfigureoutwhichoutfittowear—whichmakesithardtoargue that time can’t bespared for the chess club orthe schoolplay,or justaboutany other structured, skill-focused, adult-guidedactivity.

Butwhataboutgrit?Whatabout accomplishingsomethingthattakesyears,asopposed tomonths,ofwork?Ifgritisaboutstickingwithagoalfor thelong-term,andifextracurricularactivitiesareaway of practicing grit, itstands to reason that they’reespeciallybeneficialwhenwedothemformorethanayear.

In fact, lessons learnedwhile working to improvefrom one season to the next

come up repeatedly in myinterviews with paragons ofgrit.

Here’sanexample:Afteralackluster passing season hisjunior year of high schoolfootball, future NFL Hall ofFamer Steve Young wentdown to the high schoolwoodshop and fashioned awoodenfootballwithtapeforlaces.Inoneend,hescrewedinaneyehookandused thatto latch the football to a

weight machine in the highschool gym. Then, grippingthe ball, he’d move it backandforthinapassingmotion,the added resistancedeveloping his forearms andshoulders. His passingyardage doubled the nextyear.

Even more convincingevidence for the benefits oflong-term extracurricularactivitiescomesfromastudyconducted by psychologist

Margo Gardner. Margo andhercollaboratorsatColumbiaUniversity followed eleventhousandAmerican teenagersuntil they were twenty-sixyearsoldtoseewhateffect,ifany, participating in highschool extracurriculars fortwoyears, asopposed to justone,mighthaveonsuccessinadulthood.

Here’swhatMargofound:kids who spend more than ayear in extracurriculars are

significantly more likely tograduatefromcollegeand,asyoung adults, to volunteer intheircommunities.Thehoursper week kids devote toextracurriculars also predicthaving a job (as opposed tobeingunemployedasayoungadult) and earning moremoney,butonlyforkidswhoparticipate in activities fortwoyearsratherthanone.

One of the first scientists tostudy the importance offollowing through withextracurricular activities—asopposed to just dabbling—wasWarrenWillingham.

In 1978, Willingham wasthe director of the PersonalQualitiesProject.Eventoday,this study remains the mostambitious attempt ever toidentify the determinants ofsuccessinyoungadulthood.

Theprojectwasfundedbythe Educational TestingService. ETS, as it’s morecommonly called, occupies asprawling campus inPrinceton, New Jersey, andemploys more than athousand statisticians,psychologists, and otherscientists—all devoted to thedevelopment of tests thatpredictachievementinschooland theworkplace. If you’vetaken the SAT, you’ve taken

an ETS test. Ditto for theGRE, TOEFL, Praxis, andany one of three dozenadvanced placement exams.Basically, ETS is tostandardized testing whatKleenex is to tissues: Sure,there are other organizationsthat make standardized tests,but most of us are hard-pressed to think of theirnames.

So,whatmotivatedETStolook beyond standardized

tests?Better than anyone,

Willingham and otherscientists at ETS knew that,together, high school gradesand test scores did only ahalf-decent job of predictingsuccess later in life. It’sveryoften the case that two kidswith identicalgradesand testscoreswillendupfaringverydifferently later in life. Thesimple question Willinghamset out to answer wasWhat

other personal qualitiesmatter?

To find out,Willingham’steam followed severalthousand students for fiveyears, beginning in theirsenioryearofhighschool.

At the start of the study,college application materials,questionnaires, writingsamples, interviews, andschoolrecordswerecollectedfor each student. Thisinformation was used to

producenumericalratingsformore than one hundreddifferent personalcharacteristics. Theseincluded family backgroundvariables, like parentoccupation andsocioeconomicstatus,aswellas self-declared careerinterests, motivation for acollege degree, educationalgoals,andmanymore.

Then, as the studentsprogressed through college,

objectivemeasuresofsuccesswere collected across threebroad categories: First, didthestudentdistinguishhimorherself academically? Next,as a young adult, did thisindividual demonstrateleadership? And, finally, towhat extent could theseyoungmenandwomenpointto a significantaccomplishment in scienceand technology, the arts,sports, writing and speaking,

entrepreneurism, orcommunityservice?

In a sense, the PersonalQualitiesProjectwasahorserace. Each of the hundred-plus measures at the start ofthe study could have endedup as the strongest predictorof later success. It’s clearfrom reading the first report,completed several yearsbefore the final data werecollected, that Willinghamwas entirely dispassionate on

the issue. He methodicallydescribed each variable, itsrationale for being included,how itwasmeasured, and soon.

Butwhenallthedatawerefinally in, Willingham wasunequivocal and emphaticaboutwhathe’dlearned.Onehorsedidwin, andbya longstretch:follow-through.

This is how Willinghamandhisteamputanumberonit:“Thefollow-throughrating

involved evidence ofpurposeful, continuouscommitment to certain typesof activities (in high school)versus sporadic efforts indiverseareas.”

Studentswhoearnedatopfollow-through ratingparticipated in two differenthigh school extracurricularactivities for several yearseach and, in both of thoseactivities, advancedsignificantly in some way

(e.g., becoming editor of thenewspaper,winningMVPforthe volleyball team, winninga prize for artwork). As anexample, Willinghamdescribed a student whowas“on his school newspaperstaff for three years andbecamemanagingeditor,andwas on the track team forthree years and ended upwinninganimportantmeet.”

In contrast, students whohadn’tparticipatedinasingle

multiyear activity earned thelowest possible follow-throughrating.Somestudentsin this category didn’tparticipateinanyactivitiesatall inhighschool.Butmany,many others were simplyitinerant, joining a club orteam one year but then, thefollowingyear,movingon tosomethingentirelydifferent.

The predictive power offollow-through was striking:After controlling for high

school grades and SATscores, follow-through inhigh school extracurricularspredicted graduating fromcollegewithacademichonorsbetter than any variable.Likewise,follow-throughwasthe single best predictor ofholding an appointed orelected leadership position inyoung adulthood. And,finally,better thananyof themore than one hundredpersonal characteristics

Willingham had measured,follow-through predictednotable accomplishments forayoungadult inalldomains,from the arts and writing toentrepreneurism andcommunityservice.

Notably, the particularpursuits to which studentshad devoted themselves inhigh school didn’t matter—whetheritwastennis,studentgovernment, or debate team.Thekeywasthatstudentshad

signed up for something,signedupagainthefollowingyear,andduringthattimehadmadesomekindofprogress.

I learned about the PersonalQualities Project a few yearsafter I started studying grit.When I gotmyhandson theoriginalstudyreport,Ireaditcover to cover, put it downfor a moment, and thenstartedagainonpageone.

That night, I couldn’tsleep. Instead, I lay awakethinking:Holy smokes!WhatWillingham calls “follow-through” sounds a lot likegrit!

Immediately—desperately—I wanted to see if I couldreplicatehisfindings.

Onemotivewaspractical.Like any self-report

questionnaire, the Grit Scaleis ridiculously fakeable. Inresearch studies, participants

have no real incentive to lie,butit’shardtoimagineusingtheGritScaleinahigh-stakessettingwhere, in fact, there’ssomething to gain bypretending that “I finishwhatever I begin.”Quantifying grit asWillingham had done was ameasurement strategy thatcould not easily be gamed.Not,atleast,withoutoutrightlying. In Willingham’s ownwords: “Looking for clear

signs of productive follow-through is a useful way tomine the student’s trackrecord.”

But the more importantgoal was to see whetherfollow-throughwouldpredictthesameshowing-up-instead-of-dropping-out outcomesthatarethehallmarkofgrit.

For the support of a newlongitudinalstudy,Iturnedtothe largest philanthropicfunder in education: the Bill

and Melinda GatesFoundation.

I soon learned that thefoundation is especiallyinterested in why collegestudents drop out in suchlargenumbers.Atpresent,thedropout rate for two- andfour-year colleges in theUnited States is among thehighest in the world.Escalating tuitions and thebyzantine labyrinth offinancial aid in this country

are two contributing factors.Woefully inadequateacademic preparation isanother. Still, students withsimilar financialcircumstances and identicalSAT scores drop out at verydifferent rates. Predictingwho will persist throughcollege and earn their degreeandwhowon’t is among themoststubbornproblemsinallofsocialscience.Nobodyhasaverysatisfyinganswer.

InameetingwithBillandMelinda Gates, I had anopportunity to explain myperspective in person.Learning to follow throughon something hard in highschool, I said, seemed thebest-possible preparation fordoing the same thing later inlife.

In that conversation, Ilearned that Bill himself haslong appreciated theimportance of competencies

other than talent.Back in thedays when he had a moredirect role in hiring softwareprogrammers at Microsoft,forinstance,hesaidhe’dgiveapplicants a programmingtask he knew would requirehours and hours of tedioustroubleshooting. This wasn’tan IQ test, or a test ofprogrammingskills.Rather,itwas a test of a person’sability to muscle through,presson,gettothefinishline.

Bill only hired programmerswho finished what theybegan.

With generous support fromthe Gates Foundation, Irecruited 1,200 seniors and,justasWillinghamhaddone,asked them to name theirextracurricular activities (ifthey had any), when they’dparticipatedinthem,andhowthey’d distinguished

themselves doing them, if atall.Aroundthelab,whilewewere doing this study, webegan calling this measurewhat it looks like: the GritGrid.

Directions: Please listactivities in which youspent a significantamount of time outsideof class. They can beany kind of pursuit,including sports,

extracurricularactivities, volunteeractivities,research/academicactivities,paidwork,orhobbies. If you do nothave a second or thirdactivity, please leavethoserowsblank:

Activity Gradelevelsof

participation9-10-11-12

Achievements,awards,

leadership

positions,ifany

Following Willingham’slead, my research teamcalculatedGritGridscoresbyquantifying multiyearcommitment and

advancement in up to twoactivities.

Specifically, each activitystudents did for twoyears ormore earned a grit point;activities students did foronly one year earned nopoints and weren’t scoredfurther. Activities thatstudents pursued formultipleyearsandinwhichtheycouldpoint to some kind ofadvancement (for example,member of the student

government one year andtreasurer the next) eachearned a second point.Finally, when advancementcould reasonably be deemed“high”versusjust“moderate”(president of the studentbody,MVPof the basketballteam, employee of themonth), we awarded a thirdgritpoint.

In sum, students couldscoreanywherefromzeroonthe Grit Grid (if they’d

participated in no multiyearcommitments at all) to sixpoints (if they pursued twodifferent multiyearcommitments and, in both,demonstrated highachievement).

As expected, we foundthatstudentswithhigherGritGrid scores rated themselveshigheringrit,andsodidtheirteachers.

Thenwewaited.

Aftergraduatingfromhighschool,studentsinoursampleended up at dozens ofcolleges throughout thecountry.Aftertwoyears,only34 percent of the 1,200students in our study wereenrolled in a two- or four-year college. Just as weexpected, theoddsof stayingin school depended heavilyon Grit Grid scores: 69percent of students whoscored6outof6on theGrit

Gridwere still in college. Incontrast, just 16 percent ofstudents who scored 0 out 6werestillontracktogettheircollegedegrees.

In a separate study, weapplied the same Grit Gridscoring system to thecollegeextracurriculars of noviceteachers. The results werestrikingly similar. Teacherswho, in college, haddemonstrated productivefollow-through in a few

extracurricular commitmentswere more likely to stay inteaching and, furthermore,were more effective inproducing academic gains intheir students. In contrast,persistence and effectivenessinteachinghadabsolutelynomeasurable relationship withteachers’ SAT scores, theircollegeGPAs, or interviewerratings of their leadershippotential.

Considered together, theevidenceI’vepresentedsofarcould be interpreted in twodifferent ways. I’ve beenarguing that extracurricularactivitiesareawayforyoungpeople to practice, andthereforedeveloppassionandperseverance, for long-termgoals. But it’s also possiblethat following through withextracurriculars is somethingonly gritty people do. Theseexplanations aren’t mutually

exclusive: it’s entirelypossible that both factors—cultivationandselection—areatplay.

My best guess is thatfollowing through on ourcommitmentswhilewe growup both requires grit and, atthesametime,buildsit.

One reason I think so isthat,ingeneral,thesituationsto which people gravitatetend to enhance the verycharacteristicsthatbroughtus

there in the first place. Thistheory of personalitydevelopmenthasbeendubbedthe corresponsive principleby Brent Roberts, theforemost authority on whatleads to enduring changes inhow people think, feel, andactindifferentsituations.

When Brent was apsychology graduate studentat Berkeley, the prevailingview was that, afterchildhood, personalities are

moreorless“setlikeplaster.”Brent and other personalityresearchers have sincecollectedenough longitudinaldata—following, literally,thousands of people acrossyears and decades—to showthat personalities do, in fact,changeafterchildhood.

Brent and otherpersonality researchers havefound that a key process inpersonality developmentinvolves situations and

personality traits reciprocally“calling” each other. Thecorresponsive principlesuggests that the very traitsthat steer us toward certainlife situations are the verysame traits that thosesituations encourage,reinforce,andamplify.Inthisrelationship there is thepossibility of virtuous andviciouscycles.

Forinstance,inonestudy,Brent and his collaborators

followed a thousandadolescents in New Zealandastheyenteredadulthoodandfound jobs. Over the years,hostile adolescents ended upin lower-prestige jobs andreported difficulties payingtheir bills. These conditions,in turn, led to increases inlevels of hostility, whichfurther eroded theiremployment prospects. Bycontrast, more agreeableadolescentsenteredavirtuous

cycle of psychologicaldevelopment. These “nicekids” secured higher-statusjobsofferinggreaterfinancialsecurity—outcomes thatenhanced their tendencytowardsociability.

Sofar, therehasn’tbeenacorresponsive principle studyofgrit.

Let me speculate, though.Left to her own devices, alittlegirlwho,afterfailingtoopen a box of raisins and

sayingtoherself,“Thisistoohard! I quit!” might enter avicious cycle that reinforcesgivingup.Shemightlearntogive up one thing afteranother, each time missingthe opportunity to enter thevirtuous cycle of struggle,followed by progress,followedbyconfidencetotrysomethingevenharder.

Butwhataboutalittlegirlwhose mother takes her toballet, even though it’shard?

Even though the little girldoesn’treallyfeellikeputtingonherleotardatthatmoment,because she’s a little tired.Even though, at the lastpractice, her ballet teacherscolded her for holding herarms the wrong way, whichclearly stung a bit. What ifthat little girl was nudged totry and try again and, at onepractice, experienced thesatisfaction of abreakthrough? Might that

victory encourage the littlegirl topracticeotherdifficultthings? Might she learn towelcomechallenge?

The year after WarrenWillingham published thePersonal Qualities Project,Bill Fitzsimmons became thedean of admissions atHarvard.

Two years later, when Iapplied to Harvard, it was

Bill who reviewed myapplication. I know because,at some point as anundergraduate, I foundmyself involved in acommunity service projectwith Bill. “Oh, Miss SchoolSpirit!” he exclaimed whenwewereintroduced.Andthenhetickedoff,withremarkableaccuracy, the variousactivities I’d pursued in highschool.

IrecentlycalledBilltoaskwhat he thought aboutextracurricular follow-through. Not surprisingly, hewas intimately familiar withWillingham’sresearch.

“I have it heresomewhere,” he said,seemingly scanning hisbookshelf. “It’s never farfromreach.”

Okay,sodidheagreewithWillingham’s conclusions?Did Harvard admissions

really care about anythingother than SAT scores andhighschoolgrades?

Iwantedtoknow,becauseWillingham’s opinion, at thetime he published hisfindings, was that collegeadmissions offices weren’tweighing follow-through inextracurriculars as heavily ashis research suggested theyoughttobe.

Each year, BillFitzsimmons explained,

several hundred students areadmitted to Harvard on themerits of truly outstandingacademic credentials. Theirearly scholarlyaccomplishments suggestthey will at some pointbecome world-classacademics.

But Harvard admits atleast as many students who,inBill’swords,“havemadeacommitment to pursuesomething they love, believe

in, and value—and [havedone] so with singularenergy, discipline, and plainoldhardwork.”

Nobody in the admissionsoffice wants or needs thesestudents to pursue the sameactivities when they get tocampus. “Let’s take athleticsas an example,” Bill said.“Let’s say the person getshurt,ordecidesnottoplay,ordoesn’tmake the team.Whatwehavetendedtofindisthat

all that energy, drive, andcommitment—all that grit—that was developed throughathletics can almost alwaysbe transferred to somethingelse.”

Bill assured me that, infact,Harvardwas paying theutmost attention to follow-through.Afterdescribingourmore recent researchconfirming Willingham’sfindings, he toldme they areusing a very similar rating

scale: “We ask ouradmissionsstafftodoexactlywhat it appears you’re doingwithyourGritGrid.”

This helped explain whyhe’dmaintained such a clearmemory, more than a yearafter he’d read myapplication, of how I’d spentmytimeoutsideofclasses inhigh school. It was in myactivities, as much asanything else in my record,that he found evidence that

I’d prepared myself for therigors—and opportunities—ofcollege.

“My sense, from being inadmissions for over fortyyears,” Bill concluded, “isthat most people are bornwith tremendous potential.The real question is whetherthey’reencouragedtoemploytheirgoodold-fashionedhardwork and their grit, if youwill, to its maximum. In theend,thosearethepeoplewho

seem to be the mostsuccessful.”

I pointed out thatextracurricular follow-through might be a meresignal of grit, rather thansomethingthatwoulddevelopit.Billagreed,butreaffirmedhis judgment that activitiesaren’t just a signal. Hisintuition was that followingthrough on hard thingsteaches a young personpowerful, transferable

lessons. “You’re learningfrom others, you’re findingout more and more throughexperience what yourpriorities are, you’redevelopingcharacter.

“In some cases,” Billcontinued, “students get intoactivities because somebodyelse, maybe the parent,maybe the counselor,suggests it. But what oftenhappens is that theseexperiences are actually

transformative, and thestudents actually learnsomething very important,and then they jump in andcontribute to these activitiesin ways that they and theirparents and their counselorneverwould’veimagined.”

What surprised me mostabout my conversation withBill was how much heworriedaboutthekidswho’d

been denied the opportunityto practice grit inextracurricularactivities.

“More and more highschools have diminished oreliminatedartsandmusicandotheractivities,”Billtoldme,and then explained that, ofcourse, it was primarilyschools serving poor kidswhoweremaking these cuts.“It’s the least level playingfield one could possiblyimagine.”

Research by Harvardpolitical scientist RobertPutnam and his collaboratorsreveals that affluentAmerican high schoolstudents have beenparticipating inextracurricular activities atconsistentlyhighratesforthepastfewdecades.Incontrast,participation among poorstudents has been droppingprecipitously.

The widening gap inextracurricular participationbetween rich and poor has afew contributing factors,Putnam explains. Pay-to-playsportsactivities like travelingsoccerteamsareoneobstacleto equal participation. Evenwhen participation is “free,”not all parents can afford theuniforms.Not all parents areable or willing to drive theirkidstoandfrompracticesandgames.Formusic,thecostof

private lessons andinstruments can beprohibitive.

JustasPutnamwouldhavepredicted, there is aworrisome correlationbetween family income andGritGridscores.Onaverage,GritGrid scores for the highschool seniors in our samplewho qualified for federallysubsidized meals were a fullpoint lower than those for

students who were moreprivileged.

Like Robert Putnam,Geoffrey Canada is aHarvard-trained socialscientist.

Geoff is about asgritty asthey come. His passion isenabling kids growing up inpoverty to realize theirpotential.Recently,Geoffhasbecome something of a

celebrity. But for decades hetoiled in relativeobscurityasthe director of a radicallyintensive education programinNewYork City called theHarlemChildren’sZone.Thefirst kids to make it all theway through are now incollege, and the program’sunusually comprehensiveapproach, coupled withunusually successful results,has attracted nationalattention.

A few years ago, Geoffcame to Penn to deliver ourcommencement speech. Imanaged to shoehorn aprivatemeeting intohisbusyschedule. Given our limitedtime, I got straight to thepoint.

“I know you’re trained asa social scientist,” I began.“AndIknowthereare thingswehave tonsofevidence forandaren’tdoingineducation,and there are thingswe have

no evidence for and keepdoinganyway. But Iwant toknow, from all you’ve seenand done, what you reallythink is the way to dig kidsoutofpoverty.”

Geoff sat forward and puthishandstogetherlikehewasabout to pray. “I’ll tell youstraight. I’ma fatherof four.I’ve watched many, manykids who were not my owngrow up. Imay not have therandom-assignment, double-

blindstudiestoproveit,butIcan tell you what poor kidsneed.Theyneedallthethingsyou and I give to our ownchildren.Whatpoorkidsneedisalot.Butyoucansumitupbysayingthatwhattheyneedisadecentchildhood.”

About a year later, Geoffgave a TED talk, and I waslucky enough to be in theaudience. Much of whatHarlem Children’s Zone did,Canadaexplained,wasbased

on rock-solid scientificevidence—preschooleducation, for instance, andsummerenrichmentactivities.But there’s one thing hisprogram provided withoutsufficient scientific evidenceto justify the expense:extracurricularactivities.

“You know why?” heasked. “Because I actuallylikekids.”

Theaudiencelaughed,andhe said it again: “I actually

likekids.”“You’ve never read a

study from MIT that saysgiving your kid danceinstruction is going to helpthem do algebra better,” headmitted. “But youwill givethatkiddanceinstruction,andyou will be thrilled that thatkid wants to do danceinstruction, and it will makeyourday.”

GeoffreyCanada is right.AlltheresearchI talkedabout inthis chapter isnonexperimental. I don’tknowifthere’lleverbeadaywhenscientistsfigureoutthelogistics—and ethics—ofrandomly assigning kids toyearsofballet classand thenwaiting to see if the benefittransfers to masteringalgebra.

But,infact,scientistshavedone short-term experiments

testing whether doing hardthings teachesaperson todootherhardthings.

Psychologist RobertEisenberger at theUniversityof Houston is the leadingauthority on this topic. He’srun dozens of studies inwhich rats are randomlyassigned to do somethinghard—like press a levertwenty times to get a singlepellet of rat chow—orsomething easy, like press

thatlevertwotimestogetthesamereward.Afterward,Bobgives all the rats a differentdifficult task. In experimentafter experiment, he’s foundthe same results: Comparedto rats in the “easycondition,” rats who werepreviously required to workhardforrewardssubsequentlydemonstrate more vigor andenduranceonthesecondtask.

My favorite of Bob’sexperiments is among his

most clever. He noticed thatlaboratory rats are generallyfedinoneoftwoways.Someresearchers use wire-meshhoppers filled with chow,requiring rats to gnaw at thefood pellets through smallopenings in the mesh. Otherresearchersjustscatterpelletson thefloorof thecage.Bobfiguredthatworkingforyoursupper, so to speak, mightteach rats to work harder onan effortful training task. In

fact, that’s exactly what hefound. He began hisexperimentbytrainingyoungrats to run down a narrowplank for a reward. Then, hedivided the rats into twogroups. One group lived incages with hopper feeders,and the other in cageswherefood pellets were scatteredaboutthefloor.Afteramonthof working to obtain foodfrom the hopper, ratsperformed better on the

runway task than rats whoinsteadmerelywanderedoverto their foodwhen theywerehungry.

Because his wife was ateacher, Bob had theopportunity to try short-termversions of the sameexperiments with children.Forinstance,inonestudy,hegave pennies to second andthird graders for countingobjects,memorizingpictures,and matching shapes. For

some children, Bob rapidlyincreased the difficulty ofthese tasks as the childrenimproved. Other childrenwere repeatedly given easyversionsofthesametasks.

All the children gotpenniesandpraise.

Afterward, the children inbothconditionswereaskedtodo a tedious job that wasentirely different from theprevious tasks: copyinga listof words onto a sheet of

paper. Bob’s findings wereexactlythesameaswhathe’dfound with rats: childrenwho’d trained on difficult(rather than easy) tasksworkedharderonthecopyingtask.

Bob’s conclusion? Withpractice, industriousness canbelearned.

In homage to the earlierwork of Seligman andMaieron learned helplessness,where the inability to escape

punishment led animals togive up on a secondchallengingtask,Bobdubbedthis phenomenon learnedindustriousness. His majorconclusion was simply thatthe association betweenworkinghardandrewardcanbe learned. Bob will gofurther and say that withoutdirectly experiencing theconnection between effortandreward,animals,whetherthey’reratsorpeople,default

to laziness. Calorie-burningeffort is, after all, somethingevolution has shaped us toavoidwheneverpossible.

MydaughterLucywasstillababywhen I first readBob’swork on learnedindustriousness, and hersister,Amanda,wasatoddler.With both girls, I soondiscovered Iwas ill-suited toplay the role Bob had in his

experiments. It was difficultformetocreatethenecessarycontingency for learning—inother words, an environmentin which the acknowledgedrule was If you work hard,you’ll be rewarded. If youdon’t,youwon’t.

Indeed, I struggled toprovidethesortoffeedbackIknew my children needed. Ifoundmyself enthusiasticallypraisingthemnomatterwhatthey did. And this is one of

the reasons extracurricularactivities offer superiorplaying fields for grit—coaches and teachers aretaskedwithbringingforthgritin childrenwho are not theirown.

AttheballetclasswhereIdropped off the girls eachweek, there was a terrificteacher waiting to receivethem. This teacher’s passionforballetwas infectious.Shewaseverybitassupportiveas

Iwas,and,frankly,aheckofa lotmoredemanding.Whena student ambled in late toclass, theygota stern lectureabout the importance ofrespecting other people’stime. If a student forgot toweartheirleotardthatday,orlefttheirballetshoesathome,they sat and watched theother children for the entireclass and weren’t allowed toparticipate.Whenamovewasexecuted incorrectly, there

were endless repetitions andadjustmentsuntil,at last, thisteacher’shighstandardsweresatisfied. Sometimes, theselessonswereaccompaniedbyshort lectures on the historyof ballet, and how eachdancer is responsible forcarryingonthattradition.

Harsh? I don’t think so.Highstandards?Absolutely.

And so it was in balletclass,morethanathome,thatLucy and Amanda got to

rehearse developing aninterest, diligently practicethings they couldn’t yet do,appreciate the beyond-the-self purpose of their efforts,and, when bad dayseventuallybecamegoodones,acquire the hope to try, tryagain.

Inour family,we liveby theHardThingRule.Ithasthreeparts. The first is that

everyone—including Momand Dad—has to do a hardthing. A hard thing issomething that requires dailydeliberate practice. I’ve toldmy kids that psychologicalresearchismyhardthing,butIalsopracticeyoga.Dadtriesto get better and better atbeinga realestatedeveloper;he does the same withrunning.My oldest daughter,Amanda, has chosen playingthe piano as her hard thing.

She did ballet for years, butlaterquit.SodidLucy.

This brings me to thesecondpartoftheHardThingRule: You can quit. But youcan’t quit until the season isover, the tuition payment isup, or some other “natural”stopping point has arrived.You must, at least for theinterval to which you’vecommitted yourself, finishwhatever you begin. In otherwords, you can’t quit on a

day when your teacher yellsatyou,oryou losea race,oryouhave tomissa sleepoverbecause of a recital the nextmorning.Youcan’tquitonabadday.

And, finally, the HardThingRulestatesthatyougetto pick your hard thing.Nobody picks it for youbecause, after all, it wouldmake no sense to do a hardthingyou’renotevenvaguelyinterested in. Even the

decision to try ballet cameafter a discussion of variousother classes my daughterscouldhavechoseninstead.

Lucy, in fact, cycledthrough a half-dozen hardthings. She started eachwithenthusiasm but eventuallydiscovered that she didn’twant to keep going withballet, gymnastics, track,handicrafts, or piano. In theend, she landed on viola.She’s been at it for three

years, duringwhich time herinteresthaswaxedratherthanwaned. Last year, she joinedthe school and all-cityorchestras, andwhen I askedher recently if shewanted toswitch her hard thing tosomethingelse,shelookedatmelikeIwascrazy.

Nextyear,Amandawillbeinhighschool.Hersisterwillfollow the year after.At thatpoint, the Hard Thing Rulewill change. A fourth

requirement will be added:each girl must commit to atleast one activity, eithersomething new or the pianoand viola they’ve alreadystarted,foratleasttwoyears.

Tyrannical?Idon’tbelieveit is. And if Lucy’s andAmanda’s recent commentson the topic aren’t disguisedapple-polishing, neither domydaughters.They’d like togrow grittier as they getolder,and,likeanyskill,they

know grit takes practice.They know they’re fortunatetohave theopportunity todoso.

For parents who wouldliketoencouragegritwithoutobliterating their children’scapacity to choose their ownpath, I recommend the HardThingRule.

Chapter12

ACULTUREOFGRIT

ThefirstfootballgameIeverwatched from beginning to

endwasSuperBowlXLVIII.The game took place onFebruary 2, 2014, and pittedthe Seattle Seahawks againstthe Denver Broncos. TheSeahawkswon,43–8.

Thedayaftertheirvictory,Seahawks head coach PeteCarrollwas interviewed by aformer member of the SanFrancisco49ers.

“I knowwhen I waswiththe (Forty-) Niners,” theinterviewerbegan,“youwere

there....Itmeantsomethingto be a Niner, not a footballplayer. When you and JohnSchneider are looking for aplayer, tell me: What is thatphilosophy, what does itmeantobeaSeahawk?”

Pete chuckled softly. “I’mnotgoingtogiveitalltoyou,but...”

“Comeon,man.Giveittome,Pete.”

“Iwill tell you thatwe’relookingforgreatcompetitors.

That’s really where it starts.Andthat’stheguysthatreallyhave grit. The mindset thatthey’re always going tosucceed, that they’ve gotsomething to prove. They’reresilient, they’renotgoing tolet setbacks hold them back.They’re not going to bedeterred, you know, bychallenges and hurdles andthings....It’sthatattitude—wereallyrefertoitasgrit.”

Ican’tsayIwassurprised,eitherbyPete’scommentsorby his team’s triumphantperformancethedaybefore.

Why not? Because ninemonthsearlier,I’dreceivedacall from Pete. Apparently,he’d just watched my TEDtalk on grit. What promptedhis call were two urgentemotions.

First, he was curious—eagertolearnmoreaboutgritthan I’d been able to convey

in the six minutes TED hadallottedme.

Second, he was annoyed.NotbymostofwhatIhadtosay.Itwasjustthepartattheend that irked him. Science,I’dconfessedinthattalk,hadat that point disappointinglylittle to say about buildinggrit.Petelatertoldmethathejust about jumped out of hischair, practically yelling atmy on-screen image thatbuilding grit is exactly what

the Seahawks culture is allabout.

We ended up talking forroughly an hour: me on oneend of the line, sitting atmydeskinPhiladelphia,andPeteand his staff on the other,huddled around aspeakerphone in Seattle. Itoldhimwhat Iwas learningin my research, and Petereciprocated by telling meabout what he was trying to

accomplish with theSeahawks.

“Come and watch us. Allwedoishelppeoplebegreatcompetitors. We teach themhowtopersevere.Weunleashtheir passion. That’s all wedo.”

Whetherwe realize it or not,the culture inwhichwe live,and with which we identify,

powerfully shapes just abouteveryaspectofourbeing.

By culture, I don’t meanthe geographic or politicalboundaries that divide onepeople fromanotherasmuchas the invisiblepsychologicalboundariesseparatingusfromthem.At itscore,aculture isdefined by the shared normsand values of a group ofpeople. In other words, adistinctcultureexistsanytimea group of people are in

consensus about how we dothings around here and why.As for how the rest of theworld operates, the sharperthe contrast, the stronger thebonds among those in whatpsychologists call the “in-group.”

So it is that the SeattleSeahawks and the KIPPcharter schools—as much asany nation—are bona fidecultures.Ifyou’reaSeahawk,you’re not just a football

player. If you’re a KIPPster,you’re not just a student.Seahawks and KIPPsters dothings in a certain way, andtheydosoforcertainreasons.Likewise, West Point has adistinct culture—one that ismore than two centuries old,and yet, as we’ll soondiscover,continuestoevolve.

For many of us, thecompaniesweworkforareanimportant cultural force inour lives. For instance,

growing up,my dad liked torefer to himself as aDuPonter. All the pencils inour house were company-issued, embossed withphrases likeSafetyFirst, andmydadwould lightupeverytime a DuPont commercialcame on television,sometimes even chiming inwith the voice-over: “Betterthings for better living.” Ithink my dad only met theCEOofDuPont ahandfulof

times, but he’d tell stories ofhis good judgment the wayyoumight speak of a familywarhero.

How do you know you’repart of a culture that, in avery real sense, has becomepartofyou?Whenyouadopta culture, you make acategorical allegiance to thatin-group.You’renot“sortof”a Seahawk, or “sort of” aWest Pointer. You either areor you aren’t. You’re in the

group, or out of it. You canuse a noun, not just anadjective or a verb, todescribe your commitment.Somuchdepends, as it turnsout, on which in-group youcommitto.

Thebottomlineoncultureandgrit is: If youwant to begrittier, find a gritty cultureandjoinit.Ifyou’realeader,and you want the people inyour organization to be

grittier, create a grittyculture.

I recently called DanChambliss,thesociologistwemet in chapter 3 who spentthe first six years of hisprofessional life studyingswimmers.

My question for Dan waswhether, in the threedecadessince his landmark study ofexpertise, he’d changed his

mind about any of itsprovocativeconclusions.

Did he, for example, stillbelieve talent was largely ared herring when it came tounderstanding the origins ofworld-class excellence? Didhe stand by the observationthat going from your localclub team to beingcompetitive at the state andnationallevelsand,finally,toworld-class, Olympic-levelexpertise necessitated

qualitative improvements inskill,notjust“morehours”inthepool?Andwasmystifyingexcellence, at the end of theday, really the confluence ofcountless, perfectly executedyetmundane,doableacts?Yes,yes,andyes.“But I left out the most

important thing,” Dan said.“The real way to become agreat swimmer is to join agreatteam.”

Thatlogicmightstrikeyouasstrange.Youmightassumethat first a person becomes agreatswimmerandthenheorshe joins a great team. Andit’s true,ofcourse, thatgreatteamsdon’t take justanyone.Therearetryouts.Therearealimited number of spots.There are standards.And themore elite the team, thefiercer the desire of thosealready on the team to keepthosestandardshigh.

WhatDanwasgettingatisthe reciprocal effect of ateam’s particular culture onthepersonwhojoinsit.Inhismanyyears in andoutof thepool, he’d seen the arrow ofcausality between a greatteam and a great individualperformer go both ways. Ineffect, he’d witnessed thecorresponsive principle ofpersonality development:he’d seen that the verycharacteristics that are

selected for certain situationsare, in turn, enhanced bythem.

“Look, when I startedstudying Olympians, Ithought, ‘What kind ofoddball gets up every day atfour in themorning to go toswimming practice?’ Ithought, ‘These must beextraordinary people to dothat sort of thing.’ But thething is, when you go to aplace where basically

everybody you know isgetting up at four in themorning to go to practice,that’s just what you do. It’sno big deal. It becomes ahabit.”

Over and over, Dan hadobserved new swimmers joinateamthatdidthingsanotchortwobetterthanwhatthey’dbeen used to. Very quickly,the newcomer conformed tothe team’s norms andstandards.

“Speaking for myself,”Danadded,“Idon’thavethatmuch self-discipline. But ifI’m surrounded by peoplewho are writing articles andgiving lectures and workinghard, I tend to fall in line. IfI’m in a crowd of peopledoing things a certainway, Ifollowalong.”

The drive to fit in—toconform to the group—ispowerfulindeed.Someofthemost important psychology

experiments in history havedemonstrated how quickly,andusuallywithoutconsciousawareness, the individualfalls in linewithagroupthatis acting or thinking adifferentway.

“So it seems tome,”Danconcluded, “that there’s ahard way to get grit and aneasyway.Thehardwayistodo it by yourself. The easyway is to use conformity—thebasichumandrivetofitin

—because ifyou’rearoundalot of people who are gritty,you’regoingtoactgrittier.”

Short-termconformityeffectsarenotwhatexcitemeaboutthe power of culture toinfluencegrit.Notexactly.

What excites me most isthe idea that, in the longrun,culture has the power toshapeour identity.Over timeand under the right

circumstances,thenormsandvalues of the group towhichwe belong become our own.We internalize them. Wecarry themwith us.Thewaywedothingsaroundhereandwhy eventually becomes ThewayIdothingsandwhy.

Identity influences everyaspectofourcharacter,butithas special relevance to grit.Often, the critical gritty-or-not decisions we make—togetuponemoretime;tostick

it out through thismiserable,exhausting summer; to runfive miles with ourteammateswhen on our ownwemightonlyrunthree—areamatterofidentitymorethananything else. Often, ourpassion and perseverance donot spring from a cold,calculating analysis of thecosts and benefits ofalternatives. Rather, thesource of our strength is the

personweknowourselves tobe.

JamesMarch,anexpertondecision making at StanfordUniversity, explains thedifference this way:Sometimes,wereverttocost-benefit analyses to makechoices. Of course, Marchdoesn’tmeanthat,indecidingwhat to order for lunch orwhen to go to bed, we takeout a pad of paper and acalculator.What hemeans is

that,sometimeswhenmakingchoices, we take intoconsideration how we mightbenefit, and what we’ll haveto pay, and how likely it isthat these benefits and costswillbewhatwe think they’llbe.We can do all of this inour heads, and indeed, whenI’m deciding what to orderfor lunch or when to go tobed,Ioftenthinkthroughthepros and the cons before

making a decision. It’s verylogical.

But other times, Marchsays, we don’t think throughthe consequences of ouractions at all. We don’t askourselves: What are thebenefits?Whatarethecosts?What are the risks? Instead,weaskourselves:WhoamI?What is this situation? Whatdoessomeonelikemedoinasituationlikethis?

Here’sanexample:

Tom Deierlein introducedhimselftomethisway:“Iama West Pointer, AirborneRanger,andtwo-timeCEO.Ifoundedandrunanonprofit.Iam not special orextraordinary in any way.Exceptone:grit.”

OnactivedutyinBaghdadduring the summer of 2006,Tom was shot by a sniper.Thebulletshatteredhispelvisand sacrum. There was noway to know how the bones

wouldknitback togetherandwhat sort of functionalityTom might have when theydid. Doctors told him hemightneverwalkagain.

“You don’t know me,”Tom replied simply. Andthen, to himself, he made apromisetoruntheArmyTen-Miler, a race he’d beentraining to runbeforehewasshot.

When,sevenmonthslater,hewasfinallywellenoughto

get out of bed and beginphysical therapy, Tomworked fiercely,unrelentingly, doing all theassigned exercises and thenmore. Sometimes, he’d gruntin pain or shout outencouragements to himself.“The other patients were alittle startled at first,” Tomsays,“buttheygotusedtoit,and then—all in good fun—they’d mock me with fakegruntsoftheirown.”

After a particularly toughworkout, Tom got “zingers,”sharp bolts of pain that shotdown his legs. “They’d onlylast a second or two,” Tomsays, “but they’d come backat random times throughoutthe day, literally making mejump from the shock.”Without fail, each day, Tomset a goal, and for a fewmonths, the pain andperspirationwere paying off.Finally, he could just barely

walkwithawalker,thenwithjust a cane, thenonhis own.Hewalked faster and farther,then was able to run on thetreadmill for a few secondswhile holding onto therailings, and then for a fullminute, and on and on until,after four months ofimproving,hehitaplateau.

“My physical therapistsaid, ‘You’re done. Goodjob.’ And I said, ‘I’m stillcoming.’And she said, ‘You

did what you needed to do.You’re good.’ And I said,‘No,no,I’mstillcoming.’ ”

And thenTomkept goingfor a full eight monthsbeyond thepointwhere therewere any noticeableimprovements. Technically,his physical therapist wasn’tallowedtotreathimanymore,but Tom came back on hisown to use the equipmentanyway.

Was there any benefit tothose extra months? Maybe.Maybenot.Tomcan’tsayforsure that the extra exercisesdid anygood.Hedoes knowthat he was able to starttraining for the Army Ten-Miler the next summer.Before getting shot, he’daimed to run seven-minutemiles, completing the race inseventyminutesorless.Aftergetting shot, he revised hisgoal:hehopedtoruntwelve-

minutemiles and to finish intwo hours. His finish time?One hour and fifty-sixminutes.

Tomcan’tsaythatrunningthe Army Ten-Miler—and,after that, two triathlons—weredecisionsrootedincostsandbenefits,either.“Isimplywasn’tgoingtofailbecauseIdidn’t care or didn’t try.That’snotwhoIam.”

Indeed, the calculatedcosts and benefits of passion

and perseverance don’talwaysaddup,at least in theshort run. It’s often more“sensible” to give up andmove on. It can be years ormore before grit’s dividendspayoff.

And that’s exactly whyculture and identity are socritical to understanding howgritty people live their lives.Thelogicofanticipatedcostsand benefits doesn’t explain

their choices very well. Thelogicofidentitydoes.

The population of Finland isjust over five million. Thereare fewer Finns in the worldthanNewYorkers.This tiny,cold Nordic country—so farnorth that, in the depth ofwinter, they get barely sixhours of daylight—has beeninvaded numerous times bylarger, more powerful

neighbors. Whether thosemeteorological and historicalchallenges contribute to howFinns see themselves is agood question. Regardless, itis undeniable that the Finnssee themselves as among theworld’sgrittiestpeople.

TheclosestwordtogritinFinnish is sisu (pronouncedsee-sue).Thetranslationisn’tperfect. Grit specifies havinga passion to accomplish aparticular top-level goal and

the perseverance to followthrough. Sisu, on the otherhand, is really just aboutperseverance. In particular,sisureferstoasourceofinnerstrength—a sort ofpsychological capital—thatFinns believe they’re bornwith by dint of their Finnishheritage. Quite literally, sisurefers to the insides of aperson,theirguts.

In 1939, Finland was theunderdog in theWinterWar,

battling a Soviet army thatboasted three times as manysoldiers, thirtytimesasmanyaircraft, and a hundred timesasmanytanks.Finnishtroopsheld their ground for severalmonths—dramatically longerthan the Soviets or anyoneelsemight have expected. In1940, Time magazine ran afeatureonsisu:

The Finns havesomething they call

sisu. It is a compoundofbravadoandbravery,offerocityandtenacity,of the ability to keepfighting after mostpeoplewouldhavequit,and to fight with thewill to win. The Finnstranslate sisu as “theFinnishspirit”butitisamuchmoregutfulwordthanthat.

In the sameyear, theNewYork Times ran a featurecalled “Sisu: A Word ThatExplains Finland.” A Finnexplained his countrymen tothe journalist this way: “Atypical Finn is an obstinatesortoffellowwhobelievesingetting the better of badfortunebyprovingthathecanstandworse.”

When I lecture on grit tomy undergraduate classes, Ilike to include a brief

digression on sisu. I ask mystudents the rhetoricalquestion: Can we forge aculture—as Seahawks coachPeteCarrollclearlythinkswecan—that celebrates andsupportssuchqualitiesassisuandgrit?

A few years ago, bycomplete coincidence, ayoungFinnishwomannamedEmilia Lahti was in theaudience when I mentionedsisu. After the lecture, she

rushed to greet me andconfirmed that my outsiderviewofsisuwascorrect.Weagreed there was a pressingneed for a systematicinvestigation of sisu, howFinns thinkabout it,howit’spropagated.

Emilia became mygraduate student the nextyear,completinghermaster’sthesis on exactly thosequestions. She asked athousand Finns how they

thought about sisu anddiscovered that most have agrowth mindset about itsdevelopment. When asked,“Do you think sisu can belearnedordeveloped throughconsciouseffort?”83percentsaid, “Yes.” One respondentthen offered: “For example,participation in Finnishscouting association jaunts,where thirteen-year-oldsmaybe in charge of ten-year-oldsalone in thewoods, seems to

have some correlation withsisu.”

Asascientist,Idon’t takeseriously the notion thatFinns, or members of anyother nationality, have actualreserves of energy hidden intheir intestines, awaitingreleaseatthecriticalmoment.Still, there are two powerfullessons we can take fromsisu.

First, thinking of yourselfas someone who is able to

overcome tremendousadversity often leads tobehavior that confirms thatself-conception. If you’re aFinn with that “sisu spirit,”you get up again no matterwhat. Likewise, if you’re aSeattle Seahawk, you’re acompetitor.Youhavewhat ittakes to succeed. You don’tlet setbacks hold you back.Gritiswhoyouare.

Second,eveniftheideaofanactual innerenergysource

ispreposterous, themetaphorcouldn’t be more apt. Itsometimesfeelslikewehavenothing left to give, and yet,in those dark and desperatemoments, we find that if wejust keep putting one foot infront of the other, there is away to accomplish what allreason seems to argueagainst.

The idea of sisu has beenintegraltoFinnishcultureforcenturies.Butculturescanbecreated inmuch shorter timeframes. In my quest tounderstandwhatgives rise togrit, I’ve encountered a feworganizations with especiallygritty leaders at the helmwho, in my view, havesuccessfully forged a cultureofgrit.

Consider, for example,Jamie Dimon, the CEO of

JPMorganChase. Jamie isn’tthe only one of the bank’s250,000-plus employees whosays,“IwearthisjerseyandIbleed this blood.” Otheremployeesmuchlowerintherankssaythingslike“WhatIdo every day for our clientsactuallymatters.Noonehereis insignificant. And everydetail, every employee,matters....Iamproudtobepartofthisgreatcompany.”

JamiehasbeentheCEOofJPMorgan Chase, the largestbankintheUnitedStates,formore than a decade. In the2008 financial crisis, Jamiesteeredhisbanktosafety,andwhile other banks collapsedentirely, JPMorgan Chasesomehow turned a $5 billionprofit.

Coincidentally, the mottoof Jamie’s prep school almamater, the Browning School,is “grytte,” an Old English

version of grit defined in an1897 yearbook as “firmness,courage, determination . . .whichalonewinthecrownofgenuine success in allundertakings.” In Jamie’ssenior year at Browning, hiscalculus teacher had a heartattack, and the substituteteacherdidn’tknowcalculus.Half the boys quit; the otherhalf,includingJamie,decidedto stickwith it and spent theentire year in a separate

classroom, alone, teachingthemselves.

“You have to learn to getover bumps in the road andmistakes and setbacks,” hetoldmewhen Icalled to talkabouttheculturehe’sbuiltatJPMorgan Chase. “Failuresaregoingtohappen,andhowyou deal with them may bethe most important thing inwhether you succeed. Youneedfierceresolve.Youneed

to take responsibility. Youcallitgrit.Icallitfortitude.”

Fortitude is to JamieDimon what sisu is toFinland. Jamie recalls thatgettingfiredfromCitibankatage thirty-three, and thentaking a full year to ponderwhatlessonstotakefromtheepisode, made him a betterleader. And he believes infortitudeenough tomake itacore value for the entireJPMorgan Chase bank. “The

ultimatethingisthatweneedtogrowovertime.”

Is it really possible, Iasked, for a leader toinfluence the culture of suchan enormous corporation?True,thecultureofJPMorganChase has, with someaffection, been described as“thecultofJamie.”Butthereare literally thousands andthousands of JPMorganChase employees Jamie hasnevermetinperson.

“Absolutely,” Jamie says.“It takes relentless—absolutely relentless—communication.It’swhatyousayandhowyousayit.”

It may also be how oftenyou say it. By all accounts,Jamie is a tireless evangelist,crossingthecountrytoappearat what he calls town hallmeetingswithhisemployees.Atonemeetinghewasasked,“What do you look for inyour leadership team?” His

answer? “Capability,character, andhow they treatpeople.” Later, he told methat he asks himself twoquestions about seniormanagement.First: “Would Ilet them run the businesswithout me?” Second:“Would I let my kids workforthem?”

JamiehasafavoriteTeddyRoosevelt quote he likes torepeat:

It is not the critic whocounts; not the manwhopointsouthowthestrongmanstumbles,orwherethedoerofdeedscould have done thembetter. The creditbelongstothemanwhoisactually in the arena,whose face is marredby dust and sweat andblood; who strivesvaliantly; who errs,who comes short again

and again, becausethere is no effortwithout error andshortcoming; but whodoes actually strive todo the deeds; whoknows greatenthusiasms, the greatdevotions; who spendshimself in a worthycause; who at the bestknows in the end thetriumph of highachievement, and who

at theworst, ifhe fails,at least fails whiledaring greatly, so thathisplaceshallneverbewith those cold andtimidsoulswhoneitherknow victory nordefeat.

And here is how Jamietranslates the poetry ofRoosevelt into theproseof aJPMorgan Chase manual,titledHow We Do Business:

“Have a fierce resolve ineverything you do.”“Demonstrate determination,resiliency,andtenacity.”“Donot let temporary setbacksbecome permanent excuses.”And, finally, “Use mistakesandproblemsasopportunitiesto get better—not reasons toquit.”

Anson Dorrance has thechallenge of instilling grit in

considerably fewer people.Thirty-one women, to beexact,whichis thefullrosterof the women’s soccer teamat the University of NorthCarolina at Chapel Hill.Anson is the winningestcoach in women’s soccerhistory. His record includestwenty-two nationalchampionships in thirty-oneyearsofcompetition.In1991,he coached the U.S.

Women’s National Team toitsfirstworldtitle.

During his younger,playing days,Ansonwas thecaptain of the UNC men’ssoccer team. He wasn’tespecially talented, but hisfull-throttle, aggressiveplaying in every minute ofpractice and competitionearned the admiration of histeammates, who nicknamedhim Hack and Hustle. Hisfatheroncedeclared,“Anson,

you’re the most confidentpersonwithoutanytalentI’veever met.” To which Ansonquickly replied, “Dad, I’mtakingthatasacompliment.”Manyyears later,asacoach,Ansonobservedthat“talentiscommon; what you invest todevelop that talent is thecritical final measure ofgreatness.”

ManyofAnson’sadmirersattribute his unprecedentedsuccess to recruitment.

“That’s simply incorrect,” hetoldme.“We’reout-recruitedby five or six schools on aregular basis. Ourextraordinarysuccessisaboutwhatwe do once the playersgethere.It’sourculture.”

Culture building, Ansonsaid,isamatterofcontinuousexperimentation. “Basically,we’ll try anything, and if itworks,we’llkeepdoingit.”

Forinstance,afterlearningabout my research on grit,

Anson asked each of hisplayers to fill out the GritScale and made sure eachreceived their score. “To behonest, I was absolutelyshocked. With only one ortwo exceptions, the gritranking on your test is theway I would have evaluatedtheirgrit.”Ansonnowmakessure the entire team scoresthemselves on grit eachspring so that they have “adeeper appreciation for the

criticalqualitiesofsuccessfulpeople.” Each player gets tosee her score because, asAnson put it, “in some casesthe scale captures them, andin some cases it exposesthem.”Returningplayerstakethe scale again—andagain—each year so they cancompare their grit now towhatitusedtobe.

Another experiment thatstuckistheBeepTest,whichbeginseveryTarHeelseason.

All the players line up,shoulder to shoulder, and atthe sound of an electronicbeep, jog to a line twentymetersaway,arrivingin timeforthesoundofanotherbeep,which signals them to turnaroundandjogbacktowherethey started. Back and forththeyrun,pickingupthepaceas the interval between thebeeps gets shorter andshorter. Within minutes, theplayersareinaflat-outsprint

—at which point, the beepscomefasterstill.Onebyone,players drop out, invariablyfalling to all fours in utterexhaustion when they do.How far they get, likeeverythingelsetheplayersdointrainingandcompetition,iscarefully recorded and,without delay, posted in thelocker room for everyone tosee.

The Beep Test wasoriginally designed by

Canadian exercisephysiologists as a test ofmaximalaerobiccapacity,butgauging fitness is only onereason Anson likes it. LiketheresearchersattheHarvardFatigue Laboratory who, in1940, designed a treadmilltest to assess perseverancethroughphysicalpain,Ansonsees the Beep Test as atwofold test of character. “Igive a little speechbeforehandaboutwhatthisis

goingtoprovetome,”hetoldme. “If you do well, eitheryou have self-disciplinebecause you’ve trained allsummer, or you have themental toughness to handlethe pain that most peoplecan’t. Ideally, of course, youhave both.” Just before thefirst beep, Anson announces,“Ladies, this isa testofyourmentality.Go!”

How else does Ansonbuild a culture of grit? Like

JamieDimon,heputsalotofstock in communication. It’scertainly not the only thingthat he does, but as aphilosophyandEnglishmajorhe has a special appreciationfor thepowerofwords:“Forme,languageiseverything.”

Overtheyears,Ansonhasdeveloped a list of twelvecarefully worded core valuesthat define what it means tobe a UNC Tar Heel, asopposed to just any run-of-

the-millsoccerplayer.“Ifyouwant to create a greatculture,” he told me, “youhave to have a collection ofcore values that everyonelives.” Half the team’s corevalues are about teamwork.Halfareaboutgrit.Together,they define a culture Ansonand his players refer to as“thecompetitivecauldron.”

But a lot of organizationshave core values, I pointedout, that are flagrantly

ignored on a daily basis.Anson agreed. “Of course,there’s nothing motivationalabout the statement thatwithinyourcultureyouworkhard.Imean,it’ssobanal.”

His solution to rescuingcorevaluesfrombanalitywasin some ways entirelyunpredictable and in otherwaysexactlywhatyoumightexpect from someone withAnson’s humanitiesbackground.

Inspiration struck whileAnsonwas readinganarticleabout Joseph Brodsky, theRussian exile and Nobellaureate poet. Brodsky,Anson learned, required hisgraduate students atColumbia University tomemorize scores of Russianpoems each semester.Naturally, most studentsconsidered this demandunreasonable and antiquated,and they marched into his

officetotellhimso.Brodskysaid they coulddowhat theyliked, but if they didn’tmemorizetherequiredverses,theywouldn’tgettheirPhDs.“So they walked out of hisoffice,”Ansonrecalled,“withtheir tails tucked firmlybetween their legs, and theygottowork.”Whathappenednext was, as Anson put it,“simply transformational.”Quite suddenly, uponcommitting a verse to

memory, Brodsky’s students“felt and lived and breathedRussia.” What was dead onthepagehadcometolife.

Rather than read thisanecdote and quickly forgetit, Anson immediatelyappreciated its relevance tothe top-level goal he wastrying to accomplish. Likejust about everything else hereads,sees,ordoes,heaskedhimself, How can this help

me develop the culture Iwant?

Each year that you playsoccer for Anson Dorrance,you must memorize threedifferent literaryquotes,eachhandpickedtocommunicateadifferent core value. “Youwill be tested in front of theteaminpreseason,”hismemoto the team reads, “and thentested again in every playerconference. Not only do youhave to memorize them, but

youhavetounderstandthem.So reflect on them aswell....”

By senior year, Anson’sathletes know all twelve byheart,beginningwiththefirstcore value—We don’t whine—and its correspondingquote,courtesyofplaywrightGeorge Bernard Shaw: “Thetruejoyinlifeistobeaforceof fortune instead of afeverish, selfish little clod ofailments and grievances

complaining that the worldwill not devote itself tomakingyouhappy.”

Verbatim memorization is aproud, centuries-old traditionat West Point. You can findthe very, very long list ofsongs, poems, codes, creeds,and miscellany that all first-year cadets—“plebes” inWest Point parlance—arerequired to memorize in a

document West Point callstheBugleNotes.

But West Point’s currentsuperintendent, LieutenantGeneralRobertCaslen, is thefirst to point out that words,even those committed tomemory, don’t sustain aculture when they divergefromactions.

Take, for example,Schofield’s Definition ofDiscipline.Thesewords, firstspoken inan1879address to

the cadets by thensuperintendent JohnSchofield, are the sort you’dexpect a West Pointer toknow by heart. The passagethat cadets must memorizebegins:“Thedisciplinewhichmakes the soldiers of a freecountry reliable in battle isnot to be gained by harsh ortyrannical treatment. On thecontrary,suchtreatmentisfarmorelikelytodestroythan tomakeanarmy.”

Schofieldgoesontosay—and the cadets mustmemorize this, too—that thevery same commands can beissued in a way that inspiresallegiance or seedsresentment. And thedifferencecomesdowntooneessential thing: respect.Respect of subordinates fortheir commander? No,Schofield says.Theoriginofgreat leadership begins with

therespectofthecommanderforhissubordinates.

The irony of recitingSchofield’s uplifting words,even as you’re being yelledand screamed at byupperclassmen, was not loston Caslen when hecommitted them to memoryasaneighteen-year-oldplebein 1971. In that era, hazingwas not only tolerated butencouraged. “It was thesurvivalists who succeeded,”

Caslenrecalled.“Itwasn’tsomuch thephysical challengesas the mental toughnessrequired to cope with all theyellingandscreaming.”

Indeed, forty years ago,170ofthecadetswhostartedBeast Barracks quit before itwas over. That’s 12 percent,double the proportion whodropped out of Beast by thetime Icame toWestPoint tostudygrit a decade ago.Last

year, attrition was down tolessthan2percent.

One explanation for thisdownwardtrendishazing,or,rather, the lack thereof. Thepracticeof inflictingphysicaland psychological stress onfirst-year cadets was longconsideredanecessarypartoftougheningupfutureofficers.Asecondbenefit,sothelogicwent, was to cull the weak,effectively eliminatingweakness in the corps by

pushing out those whocouldn’t handle it. Over thedecades, the list of approvedhazing rituals wasprogressively curtailed, andin1990,hazingwasofficiallybannedaltogether.

So, eliminating hazingmightexplaindecliningBeastattrition in the late twentiethcentury,butwhatexplainsthelast decade’s precipitousdrop? Is West Pointadmissionsdoingabetter job

ofselectingforgrit?Fromtheyear-to-year data on grit I’veseen, absolutely not. Theaverage grit scores ofincoming cadets haven’tchanged since West Pointbegancollectingthem.

According to GeneralCaslen, what’s happened atthe academy is a deliberatechange in culture. “Whenonly the survivalists succeed,that’s anattritionmodel,” heexplained. “There’s another

kind of leadership. I call it adevelopmental model. Thestandards are exactly thesame—high—butinonecase,you use fear to get yoursubordinates to achieve thosestandards. And in the othercase, you lead from thefront.”

On the battlefield, leadingfrom the front means, quiteliterally, getting out in frontwith your soldiers, doing thesame hard work, and facing

the same mortal risks. AtWestPoint, itmeans treatingcadets with unconditionalrespect and, when they fallshort of meeting theacademy’s extraordinarilyhigh standards, figuring outthe support they need todevelop.

“For example,” Caslenexplained, “on the physicalfitnesstest,iftherearecadetsthat struggle with the two-milerunandI’mtheirleader,

what I’m going to do is sitdown with them and puttogether a training program.I’m going to make sure theplan is sensible. Someafternoons, I’m going to say,‘Okay,let’sgorun,’or‘Let’sgoworkout,’ or ‘Let’s go dointervals.’Iwillleadfromthefront to get the cadet to thestandard. Very often, thecadetwhowasunabletodoitontheirownallofasuddenisnowmotivated,andoncethey

start to improve, theirmotivation increases, andwhen they meet thoseobjectives they gain evenmore confidence. At somepoint, they figure out how todothingsontheirown.”

Caslen’s example broughttominda storyWestPointerTomDeierleintoldmeoftheeven-tougher-than-Beasttraining he endured tobecome an Airborne Ranger.At one point in the training,

he was hanging off a rockface—a climb he’d alreadyfailed once—with everymuscleinhisbodyshakinginrebellion. “I can’t!” Tomshouted to the Rangerinstructor on the plateauabove. “I expected him toshout back, ‘That’s right.Quit! You’re a loser!’ Thisguy, for whatever reason,instead says, ‘Yes you can!Get up here!’ And I did. Iclimbed up, and I swore to

myselfI’dneversay‘Ican’t’again.”

As for critics of WestPoint’s new developmentalculture,Caslenpointsoutthatthe academic, physical, andmilitary standards forgraduating from West Pointhave, if anything, grownmore stringent over time.He’s convinced that theacademy is producing finer,stronger, and more capableleaders than ever before. “If

you want to measure WestPoint by how much yellingand screaming goes onaround here, then I’m justgoing to let you complain.Youngmenandwomentodayjust don’t respond to yellingandscreaming.”

Other than objectivestandards of performance,what else hasn’t changed atWest Point in the last tenyears? Norms of politenessand decorum remain so

strongthat,duringmyvisit,Ifound myself checking mywatch to make sure I was afew minutes early for eachappointment and, withoutthinking, addressed everyman and woman I met by“sir”and“ma’am.”Also, thegrayfull-dressuniformswornbycadetsonformaloccasionsremain the same, makingtoday’s cadets part of the“long gray line” of WestPointers stretching back two

centuries before them.Finally, cadet slang is stillspoken fluently by WestPointers and includes suchimprobably defined terms asfirsties for “fourth-yearcadets,” spoony for “neat inphysical appearance,” andhuah for everything from “Iunderstandyou”to“gungho”to“agreed”to“greatjob.”

Caslenisn’tsonaiveas tothink that four years ofdevelopmental culture at

West Point will reliably turn2s and 3s on the Grit Scaleinto 5s. But then again, thevarsity athletes, classpresidents,andvaledictorianswho make it through WestPoint’s two-year admissionsprocess aren’t exactly thebottom of the barrel in grit.Importantly,he’sseenpeoplechange. He’s watched cadetsdevelop. He has a growthmindset. “You never reallyknowwhoisgoingtobecome

a Schwarzkopf or aMacArthur.”

Two years after Pete Carrollcalledtotalkaboutgrit,IgotonaplanetoSeattle.Iwantedto see firsthand what Petemeant when he said theSeahawks were building thegrittiestcultureintheNFL.

By then I’d read hisautobiography,Win Forever,in which he talks about

discovering the power ofpassion and perseverance inhisownlife:

Personally, I havelearned that if youcreate a vision foryourself and stick withit, you can makeamazing things happenin your life. Myexperience is that onceyouhavedonetheworkto create the clear

vision, it is thediscipline and effort tomaintainthatvisionthatcan make it all cometrue. The two go handin hand. The momentyou’ve created thatvision, you’re on yourway, but it’s thediligence with whichyou stick to that visionthat allows you to getthere.

Getting that acrossto players is a constantoccupation.

I’d also watched Pete talkabout grit and culture in hismanyinterviews.Inone,Peteisonstageinanauditoriumatthe University of SouthernCalifornia, returning as anhonored guest to the schoolwherehe’dcoached theUSCTrojans to a record six winsinsevenchampionshipgames

over nine years. “What’snew? What are youlearning?” Pete’s interviewerasked. Pete recounteddiscovering my research ongritanditsresonancewithhisown decades-in-the-makingapproachtocoaching.“Inourprogram,” Pete said, hiscoaching staff reinforces aculture of grit throughinnumerable “competitiveopportunities and momentsand illustrations. . . . Really

what we’re doing is we’rejusttryingtomakethemmoregritty. We’re trying to teachthemhowtopersevere.We’retrying to illustrate to themhow they can demonstratemorepassion.”

Thenhegaveanexample.Inpractice,Seahawksplaytowin—offensiveanddefensiveplayers compete against eachother with the full-throatedaggression and destroy-the-enemy intensity of a real

game. The ritual of weeklycompetition-level practice,dubbed CompetitionWednesdays, can be tracedback to Anson Dorrance,whosebookoncoachingPetedevoured when he wascraftinghisownapproach.“Ifyouthoughtofitaswhowaswinningandwhowas losing,you’d miss the wholepoint. . . . It’s really the guyacross fromus thatmakesuswho we are.” Our opponent,

Pete explained, createschallenges that help usbecomeourbestselves.

Outsiders to Seahawkscultureeasilymissthatpoint.“Guys don’t understand itrightaway,”Petesaid.“Theydon’t get it, but in time weworkourwaythroughit.”ForPete, this means sharing—inthe most transparent way—everythingthatgoesoninhisownhead, his objectives, thereasoning behind his

approach. “If I didn’t talkabout it, theywouldn’t knowthat.They’dbethinking,‘AmIgoing towinoramIgoingto lose?’ But when we talkaboutitenough,theycometoan appreciation of why theycompete.”

Pete admitted that someplayers may have more toteachthantheyhavetolearn.Seahawk free safety EarlThomas, for example, cameto him as “the most

competitive, gritty guy youcould ever imagine. . . . Hepushes and practices withmarvelous intensity. Hefocuses, studies, doeseverything.”Butthemagicofculture is that one person’sgrit can provide a model forothers.Onadailybasis,Earl“demonstrates in so manydifferent ways what he’s allabout.” If each person’s gritenhances grit in others, then,over time, you might expect

what social scientist JimFlynn calls a “socialmultiplier”effect. Ina sense,it’sthemotivationalanalogueof the infinity cube of self-reflecting mirrors Jeff Bezosbuilt as a boy—one person’sgrit enhances the grit of theothers,which in turn inspiresmore grit in that person, andsoon,withoutend.

What does Earl Thomashave to say about being aSeahawk? “My teammates

have been pushing me sincedayone.They’re helpingmeto get better, and vice versa.You have to have a genuineappreciation for teammateswhoarewillingtoputinhardwork, buy into the system,and never be satisfied withanything but continuing toevolve. It’s incredible to seethe heights we’re reachingfromthathumbleattitude.”

By the time I got around tovisiting the Seahawks’training facility,mycuriosityhaddoubled.Makingittothechampionship game insuccessive years isnotoriously hard, but theSeahawkshaddefiedtheoddsand made it to the SuperBowlagainthatyear.Insharpcontrast to the prior year’swin, which Seattle fanscelebrated with a blue andgreen ticker-tape parade that

was the largest publicgathering inSeattle’shistory,this year’s loss resulted inhowling, weeping, and thegnashingofteeth—overwhatsports commentators deemed“the worst call in NFLhistory.”

Here’s a recap: Withtwenty-six seconds on theclock, the Seahawks havepossessionoftheballandareoneyard away fromagame-winning touchdown.

EveryoneexpectsPetetocalla running play. It’s not justthat theendzone is soclose.It’s also because theSeahawks have MarshawnLynch, whose nickname isBeast Mode and who’swidelyagreedtobethesinglebest running back in theentireNFL.

Instead, Seahawksquarterback Russell Wilsonthrows a pass, the ball isintercepted, and the New

England Patriots take homethetrophy.

Since Super Bowl XLIXwas only the third footballgame I’d watched withoutinterruption in my entire life—the second being the NFCchampionship game theSeahawks hadwon theweekbefore—I can’t offer anexpert opinion on whether,indeed, passing instead ofrunning was the epitome ofcoaching misjudgment.What

interested me more when Iarrived in Seattle was Pete’sreactionandthatofthewholeteam.

Pete’s idol, basketballcoach John Wooden, wasfond of saying, “Success isnever final; failure is neverfatal. It’s courage thatcounts.” What I wanted toknowishowacultureofgritcontinues not just in theafterglow of success, but intheaftermathoffailure.What

IwantedtoknowishowPeteand the Seahawks found thecouragetocontinue.

AsIlookbackonitnow,myvisit has an “in themoment”feel:

My appointment beginswith a meeting in Pete’soffice—yes, it’s the corneroffice,butno,it’snothugeorfancy, and the door isapparently always open,

literally, allowing loud rockmusic to spill out into thehallway.“Angela,”Peteleansin to ask, “how can this daybehelpfultoyou?”

I explain my motive.Today I’mananthropologist,here to take notes onSeahawks culture. If I had apithhelmet,I’dbewearingit.

And that, of course, getsPete all excited. He tells methatit’snotjustonething.It’samillionthings.It’samillion

details.It’ssubstanceandit’sstyle.

After a day with theSeahawks, I have to agree.It’s countless small things,each doable—but each soeasy to botch, forget, orignore. And though thedetailsarecountless,therearesomethemes.

The most obvious islanguage. One of Pete’scoaches once said, “I speakfluentCarroll.”And to speak

Carroll is to speak fluentSeahawk: Always compete.You’re either competing oryou’re not. Compete ineverything you do. You’re aSeahawk24-7.Finish strong.Positiveself-talk.Teamfirst.

During my day with theteam, I can’t tell you howmany times someone—aplayer, a coach, a scout—enthusiasticallyoffersuponeofthesemorsels,butIcantellyou I don’t once hear

variations. One of Pete’sfavorite sayings is “Nosynonyms.”Whynot?“Ifyouwant to communicateeffectively, you need to beclear with the words youuse.”

Everybody Imeetpepperstheir sentences with theseCarrollisms. And whilenobodyhasquitetheneutron-powered, teenage energy ofthe sixty-three-year-old headcoach, the rest of the

Seahawksfamily,astheyliketocallthemselves,arejustasearnest inhelpingmedecodewhat these dictums actuallymean.

“Compete,” I’m told, isnotwhatI thinkit is. It’snotabouttriumphingoverothers,a notion I’ve always beenuneasy about. Competemeans excellence. “Competecomes from the Latin,”explains Mike Gervais, thecompetitive-surfer-turned-

sports-psychologist who isone of Pete’s partners inculture building. “Quiteliterally, it means strivetogether. It doesn’t haveanything in its origins aboutanotherpersonlosing.”

Miketellsmethattwokeyfactorspromoteexcellence inindividuals and in teams:“deep and rich support andrelentless challenge toimprove.”Whenhesaysthat,a lightbulb goes on in my

head. Supportive anddemanding parenting ispsychologically wise andencourages children toemulate their parents. Itstands to reason thatsupportive and demandingleadership would do thesame.

I begin to get it. For thisprofessional football team,it’snotsolelyaboutdefeatingother teams, it’s aboutpushingbeyondwhatyoucan

do today so that tomorrowyou’re just a little bit better.It’s about excellence. So, forthe Seahawks, Alwayscompete means Be all youcan be, whatever that is foryou.Reachforyourbest.

Afteroneof themeetings,anassistant coachcatchesuptomeinthehallwayandsays,“I don’t know if anyone’smentionedfinishingtoyou.”

Finishing?

“One thing we reallybelieve in here is the idea offinishing strong.” Then hegives me examples:Seahawks finish a gamestrong, playing their heartsout to the last second on theclock. Seahawks finish theseason strong. Seahawksfinisheverydrill strong.AndI ask, “But why just finishstrong?Doesn’titmakesensetostartstrong,too?”

“Yes,” the coach says,“but starting strong is easy.And for the Seahawks,‘finishing’ doesn’t literallymean‘finishing.’ ”

Of course not. Finishingstrong means consistentlyfocusing and doing yourabsolute best at everymoment,fromstarttofinish.

Soonenough,Irealizeit’snot only Pete doing thepreaching. At one point,duringameetingattendedby

more than twenty assistantcoaches, the entire roomspontaneouslybreaksoutintoa chant, in perfect cadence:Nowhining.Nocomplaining.Noexcuses. It’s likebeing ina choir of all baritones.Before this, they sang out:Always protect the team.Afterward:Beearly.

Be early? I tell them that,after reading Pete’s book, Imade“Beearly”aresolution.So far, I had yet to be early

for almost anything. Thiselicited some chuckles.Apparently, I’m not the onlywho struggles with that one.But just as important, thisconfession gets one of theguys talking about why it’simportant to be early: “It’sabout respect. It’s about thedetails.It’saboutexcellence.”Okay,okay,I’mgettingit.

Around midday, I give alecture on grit to the team.This is after giving similar

presentations to the coachesand the scouts, and beforetalking to the entire front-officestaff.

Aftermostoftheteamhasmovedontolunch,oneoftheSeahawks asks me what heshould do about his littlebrother. His brother’s verysmart, he says, but at somepoint, his grades startedslipping. As an incentive, hebought a brand-new Xboxvideo-game console and

placed it, still in itspackaging, in his brother’sbedroom. The deal was that,when the report card comeshome with A’s, he gets tounwrap the game. At first,this scheme seemed to beworking,but thenhisbrotherhit a slump. “Should I justgivehim theXbox?”heasksme.

Before I can answer,another player says, “Well,

man, maybe he’s just notcapableofA’s.”

I shake my head. “Fromwhat I’ve been told, yourbrother is plenty smartenough to bring home A’s.Hewasdoingitbefore.”

Theplayeragrees.“He’sasmart kid. Trust me, he’s asmartkid.”

I’m still thinking whenPetejumpsupandsays,withgenuine excitement: “First ofall,thereisabsolutelynoway

you give that game to yourbrother. You got himmotivated. Okay, that’s astart. That’s a beginning.Now what? He needs somecoaching!Heneeds someoneto explain what he needs todo,specifically,togetbacktogood grades! He needs aplan! He needs your help infiguringoutthosenextsteps.”

This reminds me ofsomething Pete said at thestartofmyvisit:“Everytime

I make a decision or saysomethingtoaplayer,Ithink,‘How would I treat my ownkid?’ You know what I dobest?I’magreatdad.Andina way, that’s the way Icoach.”

Attheendoftheday,I’min the lobby, waiting for mytaxi. Pete is there with me,makingsure Igetoffokay. Irealize I haven’t asked himdirectly how he and theSeahawks found the courage

to continue after he’d made“the worst call ever.” Petelater told Sports Illustratedthat it wasn’t the worstdecision, it was the “worstpossible outcome.” Heexplained that like everyother negative experience,and every positive one, “itbecomespartofyou.I’mnotgoing to ignore it. I’m goingto face it. And when itbubbles up, I’m going to

thinkaboutitandgetonwithit.Anduseit.Useit!”

Just before I leave, I turnand look up. And there,twentyfeetaboveus,infoot-high chrome letters, is theword CHARACTER. In myhand, I’m holding a bag ofblue and green Seahawkswag, including a fistful ofbluerubberbraceletsstampedingreenwithLOB:LoveOurBrothers.

Chapter13

CONCLUSION

Thisbookhasbeenaboutthepower of grit to help youachieve your potential. Iwrote it because what we

accomplish in the marathonof life depends tremendouslyon our grit—our passion andperseverance for long-termgoals. An obsession withtalent distracts us from thatsimpletruth.

This book has been myway of taking you out for acoffeeand tellingyouwhat Iknow.

I’malmostdone.Let me close with a few

final thoughts. The first is

thatyoucangrowyourgrit.I see two ways to do so.

On your own, you can growyour grit “from the insideout”: You can cultivate yourinterests. You can develop ahabit of daily challenge-exceeding-skill practice. Youcan connect your work to apurpose beyond yourself.And you can learn to hopewhenallseemslost.

You can also grow yourgrit “from the outside in.”

Parents, coaches, teachers,bosses, mentors, friends—developingyourpersonalgritdepends critically on otherpeople.

Mysecondclosingthoughtisabout happiness. Success—whether measured by whowins the National SpellingBee, makes it through WestPoint,orleadsthedivisioninannual sales—is not the only

thing you care about. Surely,you also want to be happy.And while happiness andsuccess are related, they’renotidentical.

Youmightwonder,IfIgetgrittier and become moresuccessful,willmyhappinessplummet?

Some years ago, I soughtto answer this question bysurveying two thousandAmerican adults. The graphbelowshowshowgrit relates

to life satisfaction, measuredonascalethatrangedfrom7to35andincludeditemssuchas, “If I could live my lifeover, I would change almostnothing.”Inthesamestudy,Imeasured positive emotionssuch as excitement andnegative emotions such asshame. I found that thegrittier a person is, themorelikely they’ll enjoy a healthyemotional life. Even at thetop of the Grit Scale, grit

wenthandinhandwithwell-being, no matter how Imeasuredit.

When my students and Ipublished this result, we

ended our report this way:“Arethespousesandchildrenof the grittiest people alsohappier? What about theircoworkers and employees?Additional inquiry is neededto explore the possibledownsidesofgrit.”

Idon’tyethaveanswerstothose questions, but I thinkthey’re good ones to ask.When I talk togrit paragons,and they tellmehow thrilledthey are to work as

passionately as they do for apurpose greater thanthemselves, I can’t tellwhethertheirfamiliesfeelthesameway.

Idon’tknow,forexample,whether all those yearsdevotedtoatop-levelgoalofsingular importancecomesatacostIhaven’tyetmeasured.

What I have done is askmy daughters, Amanda andLucy, what it’s like to growup with a gritty mom.

They’vewatchedme attemptthingsI’veneverdonebefore—like write a book—andthey’ve seen me cry when itgot really rough. They’veseen how torturous it can beto hack away at innumerabledoable,buthard-to-do,skills.They’veasked,atdinner:“Dowealwayshave to talkaboutdeliberatepractice?Whydoeseverythinghavetocomebacktoyourresearch?”

Amanda and Lucy wishI’d relax a little and, youknow,talkmoreaboutTaylorSwift.

But they don’t wish theirmother was anything otherthanaparagonofgrit.

In fact,AmandaandLucyaspire to achieve the same.They’ve glimpsed thesatisfaction that comes fromdoing something important—for yourself and others—anddoing it well, and doing it

eventhoughit’ssoveryhard.Theywantmoreofthat.Theyrecognize that complacencyhas its charms, but noneworth trading for thefulfillment of realizing theirpotential.

Here’s another question Ihaven’tquiteansweredinmyresearch: Can you have toomuchgrit?

Aristotle argued that toomuch(ortoolittle)ofagoodthing is bad. He speculated,for example, that too littlecourage is cowardice but toomuchcourageisfolly.Bythesame logic, you can be tookind, too generous, toohonest, and too self-controlled. It’s an argumentthat psychologists AdamGrant and Barry Schwartzhave revisited. Theyspeculate that there’s an

inverted-U function thatdescribes the benefits of anytrait,withtheoptimalamountbeingsomewherebetweentheextremes.

So far,with grit I haven’tfound the sort of inverse UthatAristotlepredictedorthatBarry and Adam have foundfor other traits, likeextroversion. Regardless, Irecognizethattherearetrade-offs to any choice, and I canappreciate how that might

apply to grit. It isn’t hard tothink of situations in whichgivingupisthebestcourseofaction.Youmay recall timesyoustuckwithanidea,sport,job, or romantic partnerlongerthanyoushouldhave.

In my own experience,giving up on piano when itbecame clear I had neitherinterest in it nor obvioustalentwas a great decision. Icould have given up evenearlier, actually, and saved

my teacher from having tolistentomesight-readall thepieces I hadn’t practiced theweek before. Giving up onbecoming fluent in Frenchwas also a good idea, eventhough I did enjoy it andpicked it up more quicklythan I did piano. Less timespent on piano and Frenchfreed up time for pursuits Ifoundmoregratifying.

So,finishingwhateveryoubeginwithout exception is a

good way to missopportunities to startdifferent, possibly better,things.Ideally,evenifyou’rediscontinuingoneactivityandchoosing different lower-order goals, you’re stillholding fast to your ultimateconcern.

One reason I don’t worrymuch about an epidemic ofgrit is that such a prospectseems so removed from ourcurrent reality. How many

days have you come homefrom work and said to yourpartner, “Gosh, everyone atthe office is just too gritty!They stick with their mostvalued goals too long! Theytrytoohard!Iwishtheywerelesspassionate!”

Recently, I asked threehundred American adults totake theGrit Scale and, afterreceiving their scores, to tellmehow they felt.Many saidthey were happy with their

scores, and some wanted tobe grittier. Nevertheless, inthe entire sample, therewasn’t a single person who,uponreflection,aspired tobelessgritty.

I’m certain most of uswouldbebetteroffwithmoregrit, not less. There may beexceptions—gritoutlierswhodon’t need to be any grittier—but those exceptions arerare.

I’vebeenasked,onmorethanone occasion,why I feel gritistheonlythingthatmatters.Infact,Idon’t.

Icantellyou,forexample,thatgritisnottheonlythingIwantmy children to developastheyroundthecornerfromchildhood to maturity. Do Iwant them to be great atwhatever they do?Absolutely.Butgreatnessandgoodnessaredifferent,and if

forced to choose, I’d putgoodnessfirst.

As a psychologist, I canconfirm that grit is far fromthe only—or even the mostimportant—aspect of aperson’scharacter. In fact, instudiesofhowpeoplesizeupothers, morality trumps allother aspects of character inimportance. Sure, we takenotice if our neighbors seemlazy, but we’re especiallyoffendedif theyseemtolack

qualities like honesty,integrity,andtrustworthiness.

So, grit isn’t everything.Therearemanyotherthingsapersonneedsinordertogrowand flourish. Character isplural.

One way to think aboutgrit is to understand how itrelates to other aspects ofcharacter. In assessing gritalong with other virtues, Ifind three reliable clusters. Irefer to them as the

intrapersonal, interpersonal,andintellectualdimensionsofcharacter.Youcouldalsocallthem strengths ofwill, heart,andmind.

Intrapersonal characterincludes grit. This cluster ofvirtues also includes self-control, particularly as itrelates to resistingtemptations like texting andvideo games. What thismeans is that gritty peopletendtobeself-controlledand

vice versa. Collectively,virtuesthatmakepossibletheaccomplishmentofpersonallyvalued goals have also beencalled “performancecharacter” or “self-management skills.” Socialcommentator and journalistDavid Brooks calls these“resume virtues” becausethey’rethesortsofthingsthatget us hired and keep usemployed.

Interpersonal characterincludes gratitude, socialintelligence, and self-controlover emotions like anger.These virtues help you getalong with—and provideassistance to—other people.Sometimes, these virtues arereferred to as “moralcharacter.” David Brooksprefers the term “eulogyvirtues” because, in the end,they may be more importantto how people remember us

than anything else.Whenwespeakadmiringlyofsomeonebeing a “deeply good”person,Ithinkit’sthisclusterof virtues we’re thinkingabout.

And, finally, intellectualcharacterincludesvirtueslikecuriosity and zest. Theseencourage active and openengagementwiththeworldofideas.

My longitudinal studiesshow these three virtue

clusters predict differentoutcomes. For academicachievement,includingstellarreportcardgrades,theclustercontaining grit is the mostpredictive. But for positivesocial functioning, includinghowmany friends you have,interpersonal character ismore important. And for apositive, independent posturetoward learning, intellectualvirtuetrumpstheothers.

Intheend, thepluralityofcharacteroperatesagainstanyone virtue being uniquelyimportant.

I’m often asked whetherencouraging grit doeschildren a disservice bysetting expectationsunreasonably high. “Careful,Dr. Duckworth, or childrenwillallgrowupthinkingthey

canbeUsainBolt,WolfgangMozart,orAlbertEinstein.”

Ifwe can’t beEinstein, isit worth studying physics? Ifwe can’t be Usain Bolt,should we go for a run thismorning?Isthereanypointintrying to run a little faster orlongerthanwedidyesterday?Inmyview, these are absurdquestions. If my daughtersays to me, “Mom, Ishouldn’t practice my pianotoday because I’ll never be

Mozart,” I’ll say in reply,“You’re not practicing pianotobeMozart.”

We all face limits—notjust in talent, but inopportunity. But more oftenthanwe think, our limits areself-imposed. We try, fail,and conclude we’ve bumpedour heads against the ceilingofpossibility.Ormaybeaftertaking just a few steps wechange direction. In either

case,weneverventureas faraswemighthave.

To be gritty is to keepputting one foot in front ofthe other. To be gritty is toholdfasttoaninterestingandpurposeful goal. To be grittyis to invest, day after weekafter year, in challengingpractice.Tobegrittyistofalldown seven times, and riseeight.

Iwas interviewedrecentlyby a journalist. As he was

packinguphisnotes,hesaid,“So, it’s obvious you couldhave talked all day. Youreallylovethissubject.”

“Oh, gosh. Is thereanything as interestingas thepsychology of achievement?Couldtherebeanythingmoreimportant?”

Hechuckled.“Youknow,”he said, “I absolutely lovewhatIdo,too.It’samazingtomehowmanypeopleIknowwho’rewell into their forties

andhaven’t really committedtoanything.Theydon’tknowwhatthey’remissing.”

Onefinalthought.Earlier thisyear, the latest

MacArthur genius awardswere announced. One of thewinners was Ta-NehisiCoates, the journalist whosesecond book, Between theWorld and Me, has been anextraordinarybestseller.

Eight years ago, Coateswas unemployed, recentlylaid off by Time magazine,and scrambling to getfreelancework.Itwasahardtime. He guesses he gainedthirtypoundsfromthestrain.“IknewwhatkindofwriterIwanted to be. I was notbecoming thatkindofwriter.I was banging my headagainst a wall and nothingwascomingout.”

His wife, he says, was“unerringlysupportive.”Still,they had a young son. Therewere practical realities. “Iwas considering driving acab.”

Hefinallygotbackonhisfeet, and after pushingthrough the “extraordinarystress”ofhisbook,hebegantohithisstride.“Thewritingwasvery,verydifferent.Thesentences had much morepower.”

In his three-minute videoposted on the MacArthurwebsite,thefirstthingCoatessays is: “Failure is probablythe most important factor inall of my work. Writing isfailure. Over and over andover again.” Then heexplains, that as a boy, hewas insatiably curious.Growing up inBaltimore, hewas particularly obsessedwith the idea of physicalsafety, and the lack thereof,

and has remained so since.Journalism, he says, lets himkeepaskingthequestionsthatinteresthim.

Toward the end of thevideo, Coates offers the bestdescriptionofwhatit’sliketowritethatI’veeverheard.Togive you a sense of hisintonation, and the cadence,I’ve laid out the words as Iheardthem—asapoem:

Thechallengeofwriting

Istoseeyourhorriblenessonpage.

ToseeyourterriblenessAndthentogotobed.

Andwakeupthenextday,Andtakethathorriblenessandthatterribleness,

Andrefineit,Andmakeitnotsoterribleandnotsohorrible.

Andthentogotobedagain.

Andcomethenextday,Andrefineitalittlebitmore,Andmakeitnotsobad.

Andthentogotobedthenextday.

Anddoitagain,Andmakeitmaybeaverage.Andthenonemoretime,Ifyou’relucky,Maybeyougettogood.

Andifyou’vedonethat,That’sasuccess.

Youmight thinkCoates isespeciallymodest.He is.Buthe’s also especially gritty.And I’ve yet to meet a

MacArthur Fellow, Nobellaureate, or Olympicchampionwhosaysthatwhatthey achieved came in anyotherway.

“You’re no genius,” mydad used to say when I wasjustalittlegirl.Irealizenowhe was talking to himself asmuchashewastalkingtome.

If you define genius asbeing able to accomplishgreat things in life without

effort, thenhewas right: I’mnogenius,andneitherishe.

But if, instead, youdefinegenius as working towardexcellence, ceaselessly, withevery element of your being—then, in fact, my dad is agenius,andsoamI,andsoisCoates,and,ifyou’rewilling,soareyou.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

WhenIpickupabookforthefirst time, I immediately flipto the Acknowledgments.Likemanyreaders,I’meagerto peek behind the curtain; Iwant to meet the cast andcrew responsible for the

show.Writingmy own bookhas only deepened myappreciation for the teameffort that any workrepresents. If you like thisbook,pleaseknowthatcreditfor its creation is sharedamong the wonderful humanbeings recognized here. It’stime for these manysupporterstostepoutintothefootlights for a moment andtake a well-deserved bow. IfI’veleftanyoneinthewings,

I apologize; any omissionsareinadvertent.

First and foremost, Iwantto thank my collaborators. Iwrote this book in the first-person singular, using “I”when, in fact, pretty mucheverything I’ve done as aresearcher or writer wasaccomplished by a plurality.The“we”whodeservecredit—in particular coauthors onpublished research—arenamed individually in the

Notes. On their behalf, Iextend a heartfelt thanks toour research teams who,collectively, made thisresearchpossible.

As for the book itself, Ihave three individuals tothank in particular: First andforemost, I am eternallygrateful to my editor, RickHorgan, who improved mywriting and thinking morethan I thought was possible.If I’m lucky, he’ll let me

work with him again (andagain).MaxNesterakwasmyday-to-day editor, researchassistant,andconscience.Putsimply, were it not forMax,this book would not be inyour hands today. And,finally, my fairy godfatherand agent, Richard Pine, isthe person who originally,andfinally,madethisbookareality. Eight years ago,Richard wrote me an emailasking,“Hasanyoneevertold

youthatyouought towriteabook?” I demurred. Grittyand gallant, he kept asking,butneverpushing,untilIwasready. Thank you, Richard,foreverything.

The following scholarswere kind enough to reviewdrafts of this book, discusstheirrelevantwork,orboth—of course, any errors thatremain are mine: ElenaBodrova, MihályCsíkszentmihályi, Dan

Chambliss,JeanCôté,SidneyD’Mello,BillDamon,NancyDarling, Carol Dweck, BobEisenberger, AndersEricsson, Lauren Eskreis-Winkler, Ronald Ferguson,James Flynn, Brian Galla,MargoGardner,AdamGrant,James Gross, Tim Hatton,Jerry Kagan, Scott BarryKaufman, Dennis Kelly,Emilia Lahti, Reed Larson,Luc Leger, Deborah Leong,Susan Mackie, Steve Maier,

Mike Matthews, DarrinMcMahon, Barbara Mellers,Cal Newport, GabrielleOettingen, Daeun Park, PatQuinn,AnnRenninger,BrentRoberts,ToddRogers, JamesRounds, Barry Schwartz,Marty Seligman, Paul Silvia,Larry Steinberg, Rong Su,PhilTetlock,Chia-JungTsay,Eli Tsukayama, ElliotTucker-Drob, GeorgeVaillant, Rachel White, DanWillingham, Warren

Willingham, AmyWrzesniewski, and DavidYeager.

I was shocked, and sodeeply moved, that thefollowing individuals werewilling to share their storiesfor this book; even when Iwasn’table to includedetailsin the book itself, theirperspectives deepened myunderstanding of grit and itsdevelopment: HemalathaAnnamalai, Kayvon

Asemani,Michael Baime, JoBarsh, Mark Bennett, JackieBezos,JulietBlake,GeoffreyCanada, Pete Carroll, RobertCaslen, Ulrik Christensen,KerryClose,RoxanneCoady,Kat Cole, Cody Coleman,Daryl Davis, Joe de Sena,TomDeierlein,JamieDimon,Anson Dorrance, AuroraFonte, Franco Fonte, BillFitzsimmons,RowdyGaines,Antonio Galloni, BruceGemmell, Jeffrey Gettleman,

Jane Golden, TempleGrandin, Mike Hopkins,Rhonda Hughes, MichaelJoyner,NoaKageyama,PaigeKimble, Sasha Kosanic,Hester Lacey, Emilia Lahti,Terry Laughlin, Joe Leader,Michael Lomax, DavidLuong, Tobi Lütke, WarrenMacKenzie, WillyMacMullen, Bob Mankoff,Alex Martinez, FrancescaMartinez, Tina Martinez,Duff McDonald, Bill

McNabb,BernieNoe,ValerieRainford, Mads Rasmussen,AnthonySeldon,WillShortz,Chantel Smith, AreTraasdahl, Marc Vetri, ChrisWink, Grit Young, SherryYoung, Steve Young, SamZell,andKaiZhang.

Many friends and familymembers helped improveearlier drafts. For theirinvaluablecomments,IthankSteve Arnold, BenMalcolmson, Erica Dewan,

Feroz Dewan, JoeDuckworth,JordanEllenberg,Ira Handler, DonaldKamentz,AnnetteLee,SusanLee, Dave Levin, FeliciaLewis, Alyssa Matteucci,David Meketon, EvanNesterak, Rick Nichols,Rebecca Nyquist, TanyaSchlam, Robert Seyfarth,Naomi Shavin, Paul Solman,Danny Southwick, SharonParker, Dominic Randolph,Richard Shell, Paolo Terni,

Paul Tough, Amy Wax, andRichWilson.

The figures in this bookarecourtesyofStephenFew.A world expert on datavisualization, Stephen is alsothe soul of generosity andpatience.

I am immensely gratefulfor the unflagging support ofso many outstandingindividuals at Simon &Schuster.Theonlyhardthingabout writing this book was

the writing; everything else,these remarkable folks madeeasy.Inparticular,I’dliketothank Nan Graham, whoseoptimism, energy, andgenuine affection for herauthors have no parallel.Katie Monaghan and BrianBelfiglio masterfullyorchestrated a world-classpublicity campaign, ensuringthat this book would end upin your hands. For masterfulhandling of this book’s

production, I thank CarlaBenton and her team. DavidLamb, you’re a total pro;your commitment toexcellence at every stage oftheeditorialprocessmadeallthe difference. And, finally,for this book’s beautifulcover, I am grateful to JayaMiceli.

Huge thanks to theworld-class team at InkWellManagement, including ElizaRothstein, Lindsey Blessing,

and Alexis Hurley. Youhandle somuch sowell, andwith utter grace andprofessionalism.

Like the grit paragonsprofiled in this book, I’vebenefited from especiallysupportive and demandingteachers. Matthew Carrtaughtmetowriteandtolovewords. Kay Mersethreminded me, at so manycriticaljunctures,thateachofus is the author of our own

life story. Marty Seligmantaught me that the rightquestion is at least asimportantastherightanswer.The late Chris Petersonshowedmethatatrueteacherisonewhoputsstudentsfirst.SigalBarsade showedme, ininnumerable ways, what itmeans to be a professor andhowtobeagoodone.WalterMischelshowedmethatatitsapogee,scienceisanart.AndJimHeckman taughtme that

genuine curiosity is the bestcompaniontotruegrit.

Iamdeeplygratefultotheinstitutions and individualswho have supported myresearch, including theNational Institute on Aging,the Bill & Melinda GatesFoundation, the PinkertonFoundation,theRobertWoodJohnson Foundation, theKIPP Foundation, the JohnTempleton Foundation, theSpencerFoundation,theLone

Pine Foundation, the WaltonFamily Foundation, theRichardKingMellon FamilyFoundation,theUniversityofPennsylvania ResearchFoundation,AccoBrands,theMichigan RetirementResearch Center, theUniversity of Pennsylvania,Melvyn and Carolyn Miller,ArielKor,andAmyAbrams.

Theboardandstaffof theCharacterLabdeservespecialthanks because they are the

past, present, and mostdefinitely the future of all Ido.

And, finally, thank you tomy family. Amanda andLucy, your patience, goodhumor, and storiesmade thisbookpossible.MomandDad,you gave up everything foryour children, and we loveyouforthat.Jason,youmakemeabetterpersoneveryday—thisbookisforyou.

RECOMMENDEDREADING

Brooks,David.The Road toCharacter. New York:RandomHouse,2015.

Brown, Peter C., Henry L.Roediger III,andMarkA.

McDaniel. Make It Stick:The Science of SuccessfulLearning. Cambridge,MA:BelknapPress,2014.

Damon,William.ThePathtoPurpose: How YoungPeopleFindTheirCallingin Life. New York: FreePress,2009.

Deci, Edward L. withRichard Flaste. Why WeDo What We Do:Understanding Self-

Motivation. New York:PenguinGroup,1995.

Duhigg, Charles.The Powerof Habit: Why We DoWhat We Do in Life andBusiness. New York:RandomHouse,2012.

Dweck, Carol.Mindset: TheNew Psychology ofSuccess. New York:RandomHouse,2006.

Emmons,RobertA.Thanks!:How the New Science ofGratitude Can Make You

Happier. New York:Houghton MifflinHarcourt,2007.

Ericsson,Anders andRobertPool. Peak: Secrets fromthe New Science ofExpertise. New York:Houghton MifflinHarcourt,2016.

Heckman, James J., JohnEric Humphries, and TimKautz (eds.).TheMyth ofAchievement Tests: TheGED and the Role of

Character in AmericanLife. Chicago: UniversityofChicagoPress,2014.

Kaufman, Scott Barry andCarolyn Gregoire. Wiredto Create: Unraveling theMysteries of the CreativeMind.NewYork:Perigee,2015.

Lewis, Sarah. The Rise:Creativity, the Gift ofFailure, and the Searchfor Mastery. New York:SimonandSchuster,2014.

Matthews,Michael D.HeadStrong: How Psychologyis Revolutionizing War.New York: OxfordUniversityPress,2013.

McMahon,DarrinM.DivineFury:AHistoryofGenius.New York: Basic Books,2013.

Mischel, Walter. TheMarshmallow Test:Mastering Self-Control.NewYork: Little, Brown,2014.

Oettingen, Gabriele.Rethinking PositiveThinking: Inside the NewScience of Motivation.New York: PenguinGroup,2014.

Pink, Daniel H. Drive: TheSurprising Truth AboutWhat Motivates Us. NewYork: Riverhead Books,2009.

Renninger, K. Ann andSuzanne E. Hidi. ThePower of Interest for

Motivation andEngagement. New York:Routledge,2015.

Seligman, Martin E. P.Learned Optimism: HowToChangeYourMindandYour Life. New York:AlfredA.Knopf,1991.

Steinberg, Laurence. Age ofOpportunity:Lessonsfromthe New Science ofAdolescence. New York:Houghton MifflinHarcourt,2014.

Tetlock, Philip E. and DanGardner.Superforecasting: The ArtandScienceofPrediction.NewYork:Crown,2015.

Tough, Paul. How ChildrenSucceed: Grit, Curiosity,and the Hidden Power ofCharacter. New York:Houghton MifflinHarcourt,2012.

Willingham, Daniel T. WhyDon’t Students LikeSchool: A Cognitive

Scientist AnswersQuestions About How theMind Works and What ItMeans for the Classroom.San Francisco: Jossey-Bass,2009.

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

PHOTOBYZACHTERIS

Angela Duckworth is aprofessorofpsychologyatthe University of

Pennsylvania and a 2013MacArthur Fellow. Shestudies grit and otherattributes that predictsuccess in life. A formermiddle and high schoolmath teacher, Angelarecently co-founded theCharacterLab, anonprofitwhose mission is toadvance the science andpractice of characterdevelopmentinchildren.

MEETTHEAUTHORS,WATCHVIDEOSANDMOREAT

SimonandSchuster.comauthors.simonandschuster.com/Angela-

Duckworth

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NOTES

CHAPTER1:SHOWINGUPmore than 14,000 applicants:

For more information on WestPoint, including its admissionsprocess,seewww.usma.edu.

drop out before graduation:Data provided by the UnitedStatesMilitaryAcademy.

“new cadet to Soldier”:“Information for New Cadetsand Parents,” United StatesMilitary Academy–West Point,2015,www.usma.edu/parents/SiteAssets/Info-4-New-Cadets_Class-of-19.pdf.

“West Point toughens you”:Ibid.

andwhowouldleave:Formoreon Jerry’s views aboutpredictingWestPointoutcomes,see Jerome Kagan, AnArgument for Mind (NewHaven, CT: Yale UniversityPress,2006),49–54.

West Point admissions: FormoreinformationontheWholeCandidateScoreanditshistory,see Lawrence M. Hanser andMustafa Oguz, United StatesService Academy Admissions:Selecting for Success at theMilitary Academy/West Pointand as an Officer (SantaMonica, CA: RANDCorporation,2015).

thosewiththelowest:AngelaL.Duckworth, ChristopherPeterson,MichaelD.Matthews,and Dennis R. Kelly, “Grit:

Perseverance and Passion forLong-term Goals,” Journal ofPersonality and SocialPsychology 92 (2007): 1087–1101.

“I was tired, lonely,frustrated”: Michael D.Matthews, Head Strong: HowPsychology Is RevolutionizingWar (New York: OxfordUniversityPress,2014),16.

“never give up” attitude: MikeMatthews, professor ofengineering psychology at theU.S.MilitaryAcademyatWest

Point, in conversation with theauthor,May25,2015.

physical fitness marks: HanserandOguz,SelectingforSuccess.

seventy-one cadets haddroppedout:Duckworthetal.,“Grit.”

55percentofthesalespeople:Lauren Eskreis-Winkler,Elizabeth P. Shulman, Scott A.Beal,andAngelaL.Duckworth,“The Grit Effect: PredictingRetention in the Military, theWorkplace, School and

Marriage,” Frontiers inPsychology5(2014):1–12.

graduate degree were grittier:Duckworth,etal.,“Grit.”

ashighas80percent:Formoreinformation on college dropoutrates in the United States, see“Institutional Retention andGraduation Rates forUndergraduate Students,”National Center for EducationStatistics, last updated May2015,http://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/indicator_cva.asp

“wherewedecide”:DickCouch,ChosenSoldier:TheMakingofaSpecialForcesWarrior(NewYork: Three Rivers Press,2007),108.

42 percent of the candidates:Eskreis-Winkler et al., “TheGritEffect.”

Success in the military,business, and education:Ibid. Importantly, the bivariateassociations between grit andoutcomes were in all casessignificantaswell.

toall273spellers:Duckworthetal.,“Grit.”

SAT scores and grit: Ibid. Seealso Kennon M. Sheldon, PaulE. Jose, ToddB.Kashdan, andAaron Jarden, “Personality,Effective Goal-Striving, andEnhanced Well-Being:Comparing 10 CandidatePersonality Strengths,”Personality and SocialPsychology Bulletin 1 (2015),1–11. In this one-yearlongitudinalstudy,gritemergedas a more reliable predictor of

goal attainment than any othermeasured personality strength.Likewise, my colleagues PhilTetlock and Barbara Mellershavefoundintheir longitudinalresearch that people whoforecast future events withastonishing accuracy areconsiderablygrittierthanothers:“The strongest predictor ofrising into the ranks ofsuperforecasters is perpetualbeta,thedegreetowhichoneiscommitted to belief updatingand self-improvement. It isroughlythreetimesaspowerful

a predictor as its closest rival,intelligence.” See Philip E.Tetlock and Dan Gardner,Superforecasting: The Art andScience of Prediction (NewYork:Crown,2015),page192.

CHAPTER2:DISTRACTEDBYTALENTin the classroom: The school I

taught atwas created byTeachFor America alumnus DanielOscar,andinmyview,thebestteacherintheschoolwasaguynamed Neil Dorosin. Both

Daniel and Neil are still in thevanguardofeducationreform.

“I was a little behind”: DavidLuong,inaninterviewwiththeauthor,May8,2015.

learning came easy: KarlPearson, The Life, Letters andLaboursofFrancisGalton,vol.1 (Cambridge, UK: CambridgeUniversityPress,1930),66.

“capacity for hard labor”:Francis Galton, HereditaryGenius (London: Macmillan,1869),38.It’simportanttonotehere that Galton’s fascination

with heredity was misguided.Whilehisconclusionsabouttheimportance of zeal and hardwork and ability have beensupported by modern research,hiserroneousconclusionsaboutheredityandracehavenot.

“eminently importantdifference”: Charles Darwin,Letter to Francis Galton,December 23, 1869. FrederickBurkhardt et al., ed., TheCorrespondence of CharlesDarwin, vol. 17, 1869

(Cambridge, UK: CambridgeUniversityPress,2009),530.

supernatural intelligence: SeeLeonard Mlodinow, TheUpright Thinkers: The HumanJourneyfromLivinginTreestoUnderstanding the Cosmos(New York: Pantheon Books,2015), 195. Catharine MorrisCox, “The Early Mental TraitsofThreeHundredGeniuses,”inGenetic Studies of Genius, vol.2, ed. Lewis M. Terman,(Stanford, CA: StanfordUniversityPress,1926),399.

“no great quickness”: CharlesDarwin, The Autobiography ofCharles Darwin (London:Collins Clear-Type Press,1958),140–41.

data presented itself: Adam S.Wilkins, “Charles Darwin:Genius or Plodder?” Genetics183(2009):773–77.

“The Energies of Men”:William James, “The Energiesof Men,” Science 25 (1907):321–32.

that our talents vary: Talentsare, of course, plural. For

interested readers, see HowardGardner,Frames of Mind: TheTheoryofMultipleIntelligences(New York: Basic Books,1983). Also, Ellen Winner,Gifted Children: Myths andRealities (New York: BasicBooks, 1996). Robert J.Sternberg and James C.Kaufman, “Human Abilities,”Annual Review of Psychology49(1998):479–502.

twice as likely to single outeffort: Survey of America’sInner Financial Life, WorthMagazine,November1993.

about athletic ability: “CBSNewsPoll:DoesPracticeMakePerfect in Sports?,”CBSNewswebsite, April 6, 2014,www.cbsnews.com/news/cbs-news-poll-does-practice-make-perfect-in-sports.

endorse “intelligence”: The 60Minutes/Vanity Fair Poll,VanityFair,January2010.

more likely to succeed: Chia-Jung Tsay and Mahzarin R.Banaji, “Naturals and Strivers:Preferences and Beliefs AboutSources of Achievement,”

Journal of Experimental SocialPsychology47(2011):460–65.

naturals were rated higher:Chia-Jung Tsay, “PrivilegingNaturals Over Strivers: TheCosts of theNaturalnessBias,”Personality and SocialPsychologyBulletin(2015).

favorthenatural:Ibid.“technical skills can flourish”:

“Juilliard Pre-College,” TheJuilliard School, accessedAugust 10, 2015,http://www.juilliard.edu/youth-adult-programs/juilliard-pre-college

a self-fulfilling prophecy:Robert Rosenthal, “PygmalionEffect,” in The CorsiniEncyclopediaofPsychology,ed.Irving B. Weiner and W.Edward Craighead (Hoboken,NJ: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.,2010),1398–99.

“Iwanted to get better”:Chia-JungTsay,assistantprofessoratthe University College LondonSchool of Management, in aninterviewwiththeauthor,April8,2015.

“TheWarforTalent”:ElizabethChambers et al., “TheWar forTalent,”McKinsey Quarterly 3(1998):44–57.

becameabest-sellingbook:EdMichaels, Helen Handfield-Jones, and Beth Axelrod, TheWar for Talent (Boston:HarvardBusinessSchoolPress,2001).

“Whatdowemeanbytalent?”:Ibid.,xii.

“like comparing SAT scores”:John Huey, “How McKinsey

Does It,” Fortune, November1993:56–81.

onbeing“bright”:Ibid.,56.The War on Common Sense:

Duff McDonald, “McKinsey’sDirty War: Bogus ‘War forTalent’ Was Self-Serving (andFailed),” New York Observer,November5,2013.

Gladwell has also critiqued:MalcolmGladwell,“TheTalentMyth,” New Yorker, July 22,2002.

largest corporate bankruptcy:Clinton Free, NormanMacintosh, and Mitchell Stein,

“Management Controls: TheOrganizational Fraud Triangleof Leadership, Culture, andControl in Enron,” IveyBusiness Journal, July 2007,http://iveybusinessjournal.com/publication/management-controls-the-organizational-fraud-triangle-of-leadership-culture-and-control-in-enron/.

firing the bottom 15 percent:Ibid.

“alwaysasteportwobehind”:Scott Barry Kaufman, directorof the Imagination Institute, inan interview with the author,

May 3, 2015. Also seewww.scottbarrykaufman.com.

“I was so driven”: Scott BarryKaufman, “From Evaluation toInspiration: Scott BarryKaufman atTEDxManhattanBeach,”YouTubevideo,postedJanuary6, 2014,https://youtu.be/HQ6fW_GDEpA

“does achievement trumppotential?”:Ibid.

“I had this grit”: Kaufman,interview.

deemed insufficiently bright: Iknow two other people whosetested aptitude wasn’tparticularly prognostic of whatthey would go on to achieve.ThefirstisDarrinMcMahon,aneminent historian at DartmouthCollege. In Darrin’s book,Divine Fury: A History ofGenius (New York: BasicBooks,2013),hepointsoutthatgenius incites ambivalence. Ononehand,theideathatafewofusstandabovetherestbyvirtueof our God-given gifts holdstimeless appeal. On the other

hand, we love the idea ofequality;weliketothinkweallhave the same chance ofsucceeding in life. In a recentconversation on this topic,Darrin told me, “What we areseeing play out now is thedemocratization of genius. Partof us wants to believe thateveryone can be a genius.” Iwas never a very good historystudent, and sometimes Iwasavery poor one. So I was morethan a little surprised that Icouldn’t put Darrin’s bookdown.Itwasbeautifullywritten.

The meticulous research andcarefulargumentationsomehowdid not get in the way of ittellinga story.And then,at theveryend,onpage243, Igot tothe acknowledgments: “I haveundoubtedly suffered frommanydelusionsinmylife—andundoubtedly suffer from manystill. But being a genius is notoneofthem.”ThenDarrinsays,with humor and affection, thatwhen he was growing up, hisparents saw to it that their son“never got too big for hisbritches.”Andevenmoretothe

point,he recallsbeing testedasa child for his school’s giftedprogram. There were “shapesand pictures and the like,” butthe only thing he rememberswithcertaintyis“Ididn’tpass.”Darrin rememberswatching hisclassmates “trundle off eachweek to special classes for thespecially endowed.” And thenhe reflects on whether gettinglabeled nongifted was, in theend, a blessing or a curse: “Atanearlyage,Iwastold,withalltheobjectivityofscience,thatIwas not the recipient of gifts. I

might have just thrown in thetowelthenandthere,butIamastubbornsort,andIspentmanyyears disputing the verdict,working away to prove tomyself and to others, dammit,that I had not been slighted atbirth.” Similarly, MichaelLomax was not easilyidentifiable as any kind ofprodigy.Nevertheless,hehasanillustrious résumé: he ispresident and CEO of theUnited Negro College Fund, aleadership position he has heldformore than a decade.Before

that, Michael was president ofDillard University. He hastaught English at EmoryUniversity, Spelman College,andMorehouseCollegeandwasa two-time mayoral candidatefor the city of Atlanta.“Honestly, I wasn’t consideredthe smartest kid,”Michael toldme recently. When he wassixteen,hismotherneverthelesswrote to the president ofMorehouse College to askwhether her son could beadmittedtoitsprepschool.“Ofcourse,therewasnoprepschool

at Morehouse!” Michaelchuckled. The Morehousepresident decided, on the basisof Michael’s outstandinggrades, to admit him as afreshman to the college. “I gotthere. I hated it. I wanted toleave. Iwas number one inmyclass,butIwantedtotransfer.IgotitinmyheadthatIwouldbeabetterfitatWilliamsCollege,so I applied. I had doneeverything,andtheywereaboutto admit me, and then thedirectorofadmissionssaid,‘Oh,by the way, we need an SAT

score.’ ” Because he’d beenadmitted toMorehousewithouta formal application, MichaelhadnevertakentheSATbefore.“That test was make-or-breakforme. I sat down and took it.And I didn’t dowell.Williamsdidn’t admit me.” So Michaelstayed atMorehouse andmadethe best of it, graduating PhiBeta Kappa with a degree inEnglish. Later, he earned hismaster’sdegreeinEnglishfromColumbia University, and hisPhD in American and AfricanAmericanliteraturefromEmory

University. Now sixty-eightyearsold,Michaeltoldme,“Atmy age, I think it’s charactermore than genius. I know allkinds of very talented peoplewhosquandertheirgreattalents,or who are dissatisfied andunhappy because they thinktalentisenough.Infact,itain’teven near enough. What I tellmy kids, what I try to tell mygrandchildren, and anybody Iget a chance to mentor is this:It’s the sweat, it’s the hardwork, it’s the persistence, it’sthe determination. It is the

getting up and dusting yourselfoff. That’swhat it’s all about.”In anticipation of hate mailaboutthispassageongiftedandtalented programs, let me saythis: I am wholeheartedly infavor of giving kids all theintellectualstimulationtheycanhandle.Atthesametime,Iurgeopening those programs to allchildren who might benefit.Thirty years ago, BenjaminBloomsaid it best: “We in thiscountry have come to believethatwecan tellwho’sgoing tobe a great musician by giving

musical aptitude tests, who’sgoing to be a greatmathematician by givingmathematics aptitude tests.Doing that counts some peoplein and others out far tooearly. . . . All the childrenshouldbegivenopportunitiestoexplorefieldsthattheymightbeinterestedin.”RonaldS.Brandt,“On Talent Development: AConversation with BenjaminBloom,” EducationalLeadership43(1985):33–35.

CHAPTER3:EFFORTCOUNTSTWICE“The Mundanity of

Excellence”: Daniel F.Chambliss, “The Mundanity ofExcellence: An EthnographicReport on Stratification andOlympic Swimmers,”Sociological Theory 7 (1989):70–86.

“dozens of small skills”: Ibid.,81.

“Youneed to jazz it up”: Ibid.,86.

“wehaveforathleticsuccess”:Ibid.,78.

“distinguishes the best amongourathletes”:Ibid,78.

“It’seasytodo”:Ibid.,79.“anatomical advantages”:

Daniel F. Chambliss, professorof sociology at HamiltonCollege, in an interview withtheauthor,June2,2015.

“how itcametobe”:This is aninformal translation, FriedrichNietzsche, Menschliches,Allzumenschliches: Ein Buchfür Freie Geister (Leipzig:

Alfred Kröner Verlag, 1925),135.

“out of the ground bymagic”:FriedrichNietzsche,Human,AllToo Human: A Book for FreeSpirits, trans. R. J. Hollingdale(Cambridge, UK: CambridgeUniversityPress,1986),80.

“grows somewhat cool”: Ibid.,86.

“thecultofthegenius”:Ibid.“activeinonedirection”:Ibid.“giftedness, inborn talents!”:

Ibid.

human flourishing: MartySeligman lays out the rationalefor Positive Psychology in hispresidential address to theAmerican PsychologicalAssociation, reprinted inAmerican Psychologist 54(1999):559–62.

talentishowquickly:Thewordtalent is used differently bydifferentpeople,but I think themost intuitive definition is theone I’ve offered here. Forevidence that individuals dodiffer in the rate at which they

acquireskills,seePaulB.Baltesand Reinhold Kliegl, “FurtherTesting of Limits of CognitivePlasticity: Negative AgeDifferences in a MnemonicSkill Are Robust,”Developmental Psychology 28(1992): 121–25. See also TomStafford and Michael Dewar,“TracingtheTrajectoryofSkillLearning with a Very LargeSample of Online GamePlayers,” PsychologicalScience, 25 (2014), 511–18.Finally, see the work of DavidHambrick and colleagues on

factors other than practice thatlikely influence skillacquisition; for example, seeBrooke N. Macnamara, DavidZ. Hambrick, and Frederick L.Oswald, “Deliberate Practiceand Performance in Music,Games, Sports, Education, andProfessions: AMeta-Analysis,”Psychological Science 25(2014): 1608–18. A critique ofthis meta-analysis bypsychologist Anders Ericsson,whoseworkweexploreindepthin chapter 7, is posted on his

website:https://psy.fsu.edu/faculty/ericsson/ericsson.hp.html

“going to be the renaissancepeople”: “Oral HistoryInterview with WarrenMacKenzie, 2002 October 29,”Archives of American Art,Smithsonian Institution,www.aaa.si.edu/collections/interviews/oral-history-interview-warren-mackenzie-12417.

“ourtrueinterestlay”:Ibid.“40 or 50 pots in a day”:

Warren MacKenzie, potter, in

an interview with the author,June16,2015.

“continue to engage thesenses”: Warren MacKenzie,Artist’s Statement, SchallerGallery,https://www.schallergallery.com/artists/macwa/pdf/MacKenzie-Warren-statement.pdf.

“the most exciting things”:“Oral History,” Archives ofAmericanArt.

“inmyworktoday”:Ibid.“first 10,000 pots are

difficult”:AlexLauer,“Livingwith Pottery: Warren

MacKenzie at 90,” Walker ArtCenterblog,February16,2014,http://blogs.walkerart.org/visualarts/2014/02/16/living-with-pottery-warren-mackenzie-at-90.

“Garp was a naturalstoryteller”: John Irving, TheWorldAccordingtoGarp(NewYork:Ballantine,1978),127.

“the great storyteller”: PeterMatthiessen, quoted in “Life&Times:JohnIriving,”NewYorkTimes,http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/06/15/lifetimes/irving.html

Garp “couldmake things up”:Irving,Garp,127.

“mylackoftalent”:JohnIrving,The Imaginary Girlfriend: AMemoir(NewYork:Ballantine,1996),10.

SAT verbal score was 475:Sally Shaywitz, OvercomingDyslexia:ANewandCompleteScience-based Program forReadingProblemsatAnyLevel(New York: Alfred A. Knopf,2003),345–50.

“lazy”and“stupid”:Ibid.,346.

“frequentlymisspelledwords”:Irving,ImaginaryGirlfriend,9.

“slowly—and with my finger”:Shaywitz, OvercomingDyslexia,346.

“you have to overextendyourself”:Ibid.,347.

“nomatterhowdifficultitis”:Ibid.

“Rewriting is what I do best”:John Irving, “Author Q&A,”Random House OnlineCatalogue,2002.

“to have to go slowly”:Shaywitz, OvercomingDyslexia,347.

“sickening work ethic”: 60Minutes, CBS, December 2,2007,http://www.cbsnews.com/news/will-smith-my-work-ethic-is-sickening.AlyricinoneofWillSmith’s raps goes: “If you sayyou’regoingtorunthreemiles,and you only run two, I don’teverhavetoworryaboutlosingin nothing to you.” See “WillSmith Interview: Will Power,”Reader’s Digest, December2006.

“or I’m going to die”: TavisSmiley, PBS, December 12,2007.

“healthyyoungmen”: ClarkW.Heath, What People Are: AStudy of Normal Young Men(Cambridge, MA: HarvardUniversityPress,1945),7.

foronlyfourminutes:KatharineA.Phillips,GeorgeE.Vaillant,and Paula Schnurr, “SomePhysiologic Antecedents ofAdult Mental Health,” TheAmericanJournalofPsychiatry144(1987):1009–13.

“strength of will”: Heath,NormalYoungMen,75.

“becomestoosevere”:Ibid.,74.“with mental health”: Phillips,

Vaillant, and Schnurr, “SomePhysiologic Antecedents,”1012.

“I’m not all that persistent”:George Vaillant, professor atHarvard Medical School andformer director of the GrantStudy, in an interviewwith theauthor,April8,2015.

“neverwritetheplayorbook”:William Safire, “On Language;

The Elision Fields,” New YorkTimes,August13,1989.

“Eighty percent of success inlifeisshowingup”:Ibid.

less than they’d expected:Consumer Reports, “HomeExercise Machines,” August2011.

“beating on your craft”: Todayshow,NBC,June23,2008.

CHAPTER4:HOWGRITTYAREYOU?Grit Scale: The original twelve-

itemGritScale,fromwhichthis

ten-itemversionisadapted,waspublished in Duckworth et al.,“Grit.”Thecorrelationbetweenthese two versions of the scaleis r = .99. Note also that, asyou’ll learn in chapter 9, I’verevised item2,adding,“Idon’tgive up easily” to “Setbacksdon’tdiscourageme.”

howyourscorescompare:Datafor these norms are fromDuckworth et al., “Grit” Study1.Notethattherearenumerouslimitations of any measure,including self-reportquestionnaires like the Grit

Scale. For an extendeddiscussion, see Angela L.Duckworth and David S.Yeager,“MeasurementMatters:Assessing Personal QualitiesOther Than Cognitive Abilityfor Educational Purposes,”Educational Researcher 44(2015):237–51.

“work in East Africa”: JeffreyGettleman, East Africa bureauchieffortheNewYorkTimes,inan interview with the author,May22,2015.

“itwastheeasiesttofulfilltherequirements”: AbigailWarren, “Gettleman SharesAnecdotes, Offers Advice,”Cornell Chronicle, March 2,2015,http://www.news.cornell.edu/stories/2015/03/gettleman-shares-anecdotes-offers-advice.

“Iwantedtomakeitapartofmylife”:Gettleman,interview.

“who wants to work for aboring newspaper?”: MaxSchindler, “New York TimesReporter Jeffrey Gettleman ’94ChroniclesHisTimeinAfrica,”

Cornell Daily Sun, April 6,2011.

“I was pretty lostacademically”: Gettleman,interview.

“have a life philosophy”: PeteCarroll, head coach of theSeattle Seahawks, in aninterviewwith the author, June2,2015.

they have ever been donebefore: For more on Pete’sperspective, see Pete Carroll,Win Forever: Live, Work, andPlay Like a Champion (New

York:Penguin,2010).Someofthe quotations in this section,and later in the book, are frominterviews with the authorbetween2014and2015.Othersare from Pete’s book or publictalks.

“drive all my actions”: Carroll,WinForever,73.

“andfillingbinders”:Ibid.,78.goalsinahierarchy:Materialin

this chapter on the hierarchicalstructure of goals from AngelaDuckworthandJamesJ.Gross,“Self-control and Grit: Related

but Separable Determinants ofSuccess.”CurrentDirectionsinPsychological Science 23(2014): 319–25. On goalhierarchies more generally, seeArie W. Kruglanski et al., “ATheory of Goal Systems,” inAdvances in ExperimentalSocial Psychology 34 (2002):331–78. And, finally, for areview of goal-setting theory,see Edwin A. Locke and GaryP. Latham, “Building aPractically Useful Theory ofGoal Setting and TaskMotivation: A 35-Year

Odyssey,” AmericanPsychologist57(2002):705–17.

an “ultimate concern”: RobertA.Emmons,ThePsychologyofUltimate Concerns: Motivationand Spirituality in Personality(New York: Guildford Press,1999).

when he retired in 1987: IraBerkow, “Sports of the Times;Farewell, Sweet Pitcher,” NewYorkTimes,June23,1987.

“dayafterday,yearafteryear”:Pat Jordan, “Tom Terrific andHis Mystic Talent,” Sports

Illustrated, July 24, 1972,http://www.si.com/vault/1972/07/24/612578/tom-terrific-and-his-mystic-talent.

“then I eat cottage cheese”:Ibid.

“helpmebehappy”:Ibid.“positive fantasizing”: Gabriele

Oettingen,“FutureThoughtandBehaviour Change,” EuropeanReviewofSocialPsychology 23(2012): 1–63. For a terrificsummary, and practicalsuggestions,ongoalsettingandplanning, see GabrieleOettingen, Rethinking Positive

Thinking: Inside the NewScience of Motivation (NewYork:Penguin,2014).

reportedly gave his personalpilot: James Clear, “WarrenBuffett’s ‘Two List’ Strategy:How to Maximize Your Focusand Master Your Priorities,”Huffington Post, originallyposted October, 24, 2014,updated December 24, 2014,http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-clear/warren-buffetts-two-list-strategy-how-to-maximize-your-focus-_b_6041584.html.

a more important end: Forinstance, in one study, youngadults wrote down their high-level, mid-level, and low-levelgoals;overthenexttwoweeks,they reported on dailyfrustrations.Peoplewhosegoalsdemonstratedamoreorganized,hierarchical structuresubsequently demonstratedgreater resilience in the face ofdaily frustrations. In particular,when confronted withfrustrating experiences, theymaintained a sense that theywereincontrolofattainingtheir

goals.Inarelatedstudy,amorehierarchical goal structurepredictedfeelinglessangerandannoyance in the face of dailyfrustrations over the next twoweeks. See Michael D.Robinson and SaraK.Moeller,“Frustrated, but Not Flustered:The Benefits of HierarchicalApproach Motivation toWeatheringDailyFrustrations,”Motivation and Emotion 38(2014):547–59.

“improvise, adapt, overcome”:Michael Martel, Improvise,Adapt, Overcome: Achieve the

Green Beret Way (Seattle:Amazon Digital Services, Inc.,2012).

“made mine wither”: RobertMankoff,HowAboutNever—IsNeverGood for You?:My LifeinCartoons (NewYork:HenryHoltandCompany,2014),34.

“I’ve written this book”: SydHoff, Learning to Cartoon(New York: StravonEducationalPress,1966),vii.

“How could anyone do morethan twenty-seven

cartoons?”: Mankoff, HowAboutNever,38.

“I’mthefunniestguyyouevermet”: Bob Mankoff, cartooneditorof theNewYorker, in aninterview with the author,February10,2015.

“I’mgoingtobeacartoonist”:Mankoff,interview.

“wallpaper my bathroom”:Mankoff,HowAboutNever,44.

“youtoowereoneofthebest”:Ibid.,46.

“Ilookedupallthecartoons”:Mankoff,interview.

“I had complete confidence”:Ibid.

“things never work out”:Mankoff, How About Never,114.

301 exceptionallyaccomplished: Cox, “EarlyMentalTraits.”

“Cox’s First Ten”: Ibid., 181.Presented here in alphabeticalorderbylastname.

“with somewhat lesspersistence”:Ibid.,187.

CHAPTER5:GRITGROWS

worth our attention:Psychologist Steve Heine hasdone research showing that ifyou think something is genetic,then you think it is “natural”and therefore the way things“should be.” For example, ifyou tell obese people thatobesityhasageneticbasis,theyreduce theirdietingefforts.SeeIlan Dar-Nimrod and Steven J.Heine, “Genetic Essentialism:On the Deceptive Determinismof DNA,” PsychologicalBulletin 137 (2011): 800–18.Perhaps peoplewould not have

suchaknee-jerkreactioniftheyunderstood better that theinterplaybetweengenesandtheenvironment is complex anddynamic. The interested readermight find the work of ElliotTucker-Drob on this topicespecially illuminating; forexample, see Daniel A. Brileyand Elliot M. Tucker-Drob,“Comparing theDevelopmentalGenetics of Cognition andPersonality Over the LifeSpan,” Journal of Personality(2015):1–14.

150yearsago:TimothyJ.Hattonand Bernice E. Bray, “LongRun Trends in the Heights ofEuropean Men, 19th–20thCenturies,” Economics andHumanBiology 8 (2010): 405–13.

averageisfivefeetteninches:Alison Moody, “AdultAnthropometric Measures,Overweight and Obesity,” inHealth Survey for England2013, ed. Rachel Craig andJennifer Mindell (London:Health and Social CareInformationCentre,2014).

gain of more than six inches:Hatton, “Long Run Trends.”YvonneSchonbeck et al., “TheWorld’s Tallest Nation HasStopped Growing Taller: TheHeight ofDutchChildren from1955 to 2009,” PediatricResearch73(2013):371–77.

honesty and generosity: SeeEric Turkheimer, ErikPettersson, and Erin E. Horn,“APhenotypicNullHypothesisfortheGeneticsofPersonality,”Annual Review of Psychology65(2014):515–40.

Ditto for IQ: Richard E. Nisbettet al., “Intelligence: NewFindings and TheoreticalDevelopments,” AmericanPsychologist67(2012):130–59.

enjoying the great outdoors:Niels G. Waller, David T.Lykken, and Auke Tellegen,“OccupationalInterests,LeisureTimeInterests,andPersonality:Three Domains or One?Findings from the MinnesotaTwin Registry.” In AssessingIndividual Differences inHuman Behavior: NewConcepts, Methods, and

Findings, ed. David JohnLubinski and René V. Dawis(Palo Alto, CA: Davies-BlackPublishing,1995):233–59.

havinga sweet tooth:FionaM.Breen,RobertPlomin,andJaneWardle, “Heritability of FoodPreferences in YoungChildren,” Physiology &Behavior88(2006):443–47.

endupachain-smoker:GaryE.Swan et al., “Smoking andAlcohol Consumption in AdultMale Twins: GeneticHeritability and Shared

Environmental Influences,”Journal of Substance Abuse 2(1990):39–50.

getting skin cancer: PaulLichtenstein et al.“Environmental and HeritableFactors in the Causation ofCancer—Analyses of Cohortsof Twins from Sweden,Denmark, and Finland,” NewEngland Journal of Medicine343(2000):78–85.

carry a tune: Elizabeth Theuschand Jane Gitschier, “AbsolutePitch Twin Study and

Segregation Analysis,” TwinResearch and Human Genetics14(2011):173–78.

dunkabasketball:LisaM.GuthandStephenM.Roth, “GeneticInfluence and AthleticPerformance,”Current Opinionin Pediatrics 25 (2013): 653–58.

solve a quadratic equation:BonamyOliver et al., “ATwinStudy of Teacher-ReportedMathematics Performance andLow Performance in 7-Year-Olds,” Journal of EducationalPsychology96(2004):504–17.

“I could only swimbreaststroke”: Chambliss,interview.

“I had horribly bad coaches”:Chambliss, interview. Thetremendous importance ofteacherqualitytotrajectoriesofacademic achievement isdocumented in Eric A.Hanushek, “Valuing Teachers:HowMuch Is a Good TeacherWorth?” Education Next 11(2011),40–45.

researchers in London:Personal communication withRobert Plomin, June 21, 2015.

For a review of heritability ofpersonality traits, seeTurkheimer, Pettersson, andHorn, “Phenotypic NullHypothesis.” It’s worth notingthat there are behavioralgeneticsstudiesthatdonotrelyon twins, and also thatheritability is a topic toocomplex to fully summarizehere. In particular, there areinteractions between differentgenes, between genes and theenvironment, and epigeneticeffects. Relatedly, there is anongoing debate as to the

proportion of environmentalinfluence that can be attributedto parenting. Definitivelyteasing apart the effects ofparenting from genetic heritageis difficult. Chiefly, this isbecause you can’t randomlyswap human children to livewithdifferentparents.However,youcandoexactlythatwithratpupsand theirmoms.Youcan,for example, randomly assignrat pups to grow up with verynurturing mothers or verynegligent ones. NeurobiologistMichael Meaney has done

exactly that, and he has foundthat nurturing rats—who lickandgroomandnursetheirpupsmore than average—raise pupswho are less stressed whendealing with challengingsituations. The effects last intoadulthood, and in fact, rat pupswhoareborn to low-lickmomsbut,withintwenty-fourhoursofbirth, are switched to be raisedbyhigh-lickmoms, growup tobe high-lick moms themselves.See Darlene Francis, JosieDiorio,DongLiu, andMichaelJ. Meaney, “Nongenomic

Transmission AcrossGenerations of MaternalBehavior and Stress ResponsesintheRat,”Science286(1999):1155–58.

traitsarepolygenic:ChristopherF. Chabris et al., “The FourthLaw of Behavioral Genetics,”Current Directions inPsychological Science 24(2015):304–12.

at least 697 different genes:Andrew R. Wood et al.,“DefiningtheRoleofCommonVariation in the Genomic andBiologicalArchitectureofAdult

Human Height,” NatureGenetics46(2014):1173–86.

as many as twenty-fivethousanddifferentgenes:“ABrief Guide to Genomics,”National Human GenomeResearchInstitute,lastmodifiedAugust 27, 2015,http://www.genome.gov/18016863

Wechsler Adult IntelligenceScale: The Wechsler tests arenow published by Pearson’sClinicalAssessment.

in the last fifty years:Informationon theFlynneffect

comes from personalcommunications with JamesFlynn from 2006 to 2015. Formore information on the Flynneffect, see JamesR.Flynn,AreWeGettingSmarter?:RisingIQin the Twenty-First Century(Cambridge, UK: CambridgeUniversityPress,2012).SeealsoJakob Pietschnig and MartinVoracek, “One Century ofGlobal IQ Gains: A FormalMeta-Analysis of the FlynnEffect (1909–2013),”Perspectives on PsychologicalScience 10 (2015):282–306. In

thisanalysisof271independentsamples, totaling almost fourmillion people from thirty-onecountries, a few key findingsemerged: IQ gains areubiquitousandpositiveoverthepast century; gains have variedin magnitude by domain ofintelligence; gains have beenless dramatic in recent years;and, finally, candidate causesinclude, in addition to socialmultiplier effects, changes ineducation, nutrition, hygiene,medical care, and test-takingsophistication.

the social multiplier effect:William T. Dickens and JamesR. Flynn, “HeritabilityEstimates Versus LargeEnvironmental Effects: The IQParadox Resolved,”Psychological Review 108(2001):346–69.

Grit and age: These data areoriginally reported inDuckworthetal.,“Grit,”1092.

moreconscientious,confident,caring, and calm: AvshalomCaspi, Brent W. Roberts, andRebeccaL.Shiner,“Personality

Development: Stability andChange,” Annual Review ofPsychology56(2005):453–84.

“the maturity principle”: Ibid.,468.

“doesn’t come overnight”:Shaywitz, OvercomingDyslexia,347.

“you’re late, you’re fired”:Bernie Noe, head of school,Lakeside School, Seattle, in aninterview with the author, July29,2015.

interest without purpose: KenM. Sheldon, “Becoming

Oneself: The Central Role ofSelf-Concordant GoalSelection,” Personality andSocial Psychology Review 18(2014): 349–65. Seepsychologist Ken Sheldon’swork on enjoyment andimportance as the twocomponents of what he callsautonomously motivated goals.Ken points out that all of ushave responsibilities we mustfulfill out of obligation ornecessity. But no matter howmuch we think we care aboutexternallymotivatedgoals,their

accomplishment rarely fulfillsus in the way that interestingand purposeful goals do. A lotof the people in Ken’s studiesare highly educated and verycomfortably upper-middle-classyet sorely lacking inautonomously motivated goals.They tell Ken they feel likethey’re in the passenger seat oftheir own lives. By followingthese individuals over time,Ken’s learned that they’re lesslikelytoaccomplishtheirgoals;even when they do achievethem, they derive less

satisfaction from having doneso. Recently, I collected datafrom hundreds of adults, agestwenty-five to seventy-five andfound that Ken’s measure ofautonomous motivationcorrelatespositivelywithgrit.

CHAPTER6:INTEREST“follow your passion”: Indiana

University,“WillShortz’s2008Commencement Address,”CSPAN, http://www.c-span.org/video/?205168-

1/indiana-university-commencement-address.

“to follow my passion”:Princeton University, “JeffBezos’ 2010 BaccalaureateRemarks,” TED,https://www.ted.com/talks/jeff_bezos_gifts_vs_choices

“won’tbeabletostickwithit”:Taylor Soper, “Advice fromAmazonFounderJeffBezos:BeProud of Your Choices, NotYourGifts,”GeekWire,October13, 2013,http://www.geekwire.com/2013/advice-amazon-founder-jeff-bezos-proud-choices-gifts.

asksthesamequestions:HesterLacey, “The Inventory,”published weekly in theFinancialTimes.

“IlovewhatIdo”:HesterLacey,journalist for the FinancialTimes, in an interviewwith theauthor,June2,2015.

fits their personal interests:Mark Allen Morris, “A Meta-Analytic Investigation ofVocational Interest-Based JobFit, and Its Relationship to JobSatisfaction, Performance, and

Turnover” (PhD dissertation,UniversityofHouston,2003).

happier with their lives: RongSu, Louis Tay, and Qi Zhang,“Interest Fit and LifeSatisfaction: A Cross-CulturalStudy in Ten Countries”(manuscriptinpreparation).”

perform better: Christopher D.Nye, Rong Su, James Rounds,andFritzDrasgow,“VocationalInterests and Performance: AQuantitative Summary of over60 Years of Research,”

Perspectives on PsychologicalScience7(2012),384–403.

very real constraints: See CalNewport, So Good They Can’tIgnore You: Why Skills TrumpPassion in the Quest for WorkYouLove (NewYork:HachetteBookGroup, 2012). Cal pointsout that getting very good atsomethingandthereforemakingyourselfvaluabletoothersoftenprecedes identifying what youdoasyourpassion.

“strength of [our] interest”:William James, Talks toTeachersonPsychology;andto

Students on Some of Life’sIdeals (New York: Henry HoltandCompany,1916),114.

“engaged”atwork:Gallup,Stateof the Global Workplace:Employee Engagement InsightsforBusinessLeadersWorldwide(Washington, DC:Gallup, Inc.,2013).

food could be this good: Julie& Julia, dir. Nora Ephron,ColumbiaPictures,2009.

“I was hooked, and for life”:MarilynMellowes,“AboutJuliaChild,” PBS, June 15, 2005,

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/julia-child-about-julia-child/555.

“I could really fall in lovewith”:RowdyGaines,Olympicgold medalist swimmer, in aninterviewwith the author, June15,2015.

“I’m glad I went this way”:Marc Vetri, chef, in aninterview with the author,February2,2015.

writing a cookbook forAmericans: Julia Child withAlex Prud’homme,My Life in

France (New York: Alfred A.Knopf,2006).

“zero interest in the stove”:Ibid.,3.

“to find my true passion”:Mellowes,“AboutJuliaChild.”

“No Career Direction”:“FleetingInterestinEverything,No Career Direction,” Reddit,accessed June 17, 2015,https://www.reddit.com/r/jobs/comments/1asw10/fleeting_interest_in_everything_no_career

“They’re holding out forperfection”: Barry Schwartz,DorwinCartwrightProfessorofSocialTheoryandSocialActionat Swarthmore College, in an

interview with the author,January27,2015.

aroundmiddleschool: DouglasK.S.Low,MijungYoon,BrentW.Roberts,andJamesRounds.“The Stability of VocationalInterests from EarlyAdolescence to MiddleAdulthood: A QuantitativeReview of LongitudinalStudies.”PsychologicalBulletin131(2005):713–37.

withtheoutsideworld:Muchofthecontentinthischapteronthedevelopment of interests comes

from an interview between theauthor and Ann Renninger,Eugene M. Lang Professor ofEducational Studies atSwarthmore College, on July13, 2015. For an in-depthreview, the interested reader isreferred to K. Ann RenningerandSuzanneHidi,ThePowerofInterest for Motivation andEngagement (London:Routledge,2015).

“to force an interest”: RobWalker, “25 Entrepreneurs WeLove: Jeff Bezos,

Amazon.com,” Inc. magazine,April2004,150.

“one piece of information ledto another”: Mike Hopkins,NASAastronaut andcolonel inthe U.S. Air Force, in aninterviewwith the author,May12,2015.

“I started wanting to makethat”:Vetri,interview.

“I’ll always need you”: MarcVetri, Il Viaggio Di Vetri: ACulinary Journey (New York:TenSpeedPress,2008),ix.

“at the things they love”: AmyChua,BattleHymnof theTigerMother (New York: Penguin,2011),213.

120 people who achieved:Benjamin Bloom, DevelopingTalent in Young People (NewYork:Ballantine,1985).

“the early years”: Ibid. I wouldliketopointoutherethatwhileinterest typically precedes theeffortful practice we willdiscuss in the next chapter, it’salso been shown that investingeffort into an endeavor can

reciprocally increase passion.See Michael M. Gielnik et al.,“ ‘I Put in Effort, Therefore IAm Passionate’: InvestigatingthePath fromEffort toPassionin Entrepreneurship,” Academyof Management Journal 58(2015):1012–31.

Encouragement during theearly years: For related work,see Stacey R. Finkelstein andAyelet Fishbach, “Tell MeWhat I Did Wrong: ExpertsSeek and Respond to NegativeFeedback,” Journal of

Consumer Research 39 (2012):22–38.

“perhaps the major quality”:Bloom,DevelopingTalent,514.

erode intrinsic motivation:Robert Vallerand, NathalieHoulfort, and Jacques Forest,“Passion for Work:Determinants and Outcomes,”in The Oxford Handbook ofWork Engagement, Motivation,and Self-Determination Theory,ed. Marylène Gagné (Oxford,UK: Oxford University Press,2014),85–105.

injuredphysicallyand toburnout: Jean Côté, Professor ofPsychology at Queen’sUniversity,inaninterviewwiththe author, July 24, 2015. Seealso, Jean Côté, Karl Erickson,andBruceAbernethy,“PlayandPractice During Childhood,” inConditionsofChildren’sTalentDevelopment in Sport, ed. JeanCôté and Ronnie Lidor(Morgantown, WV: FitnessInformationTechnology,2013),9–20. Côté, Baker, andAbernethy, “Practice and Playin the Development of Sport

Exercise,”inHandbookofSportPsychology, ed. GershonTenenbaum and Robert C.Eklund (Hoboken, NJ: JohnWiley&Sons,2007),184–202.

different motivational needs:Robert J. Vallerand, ThePsychology of Passion: ADualistic Model (Oxford, UK:OxfordUniversityPress,2015).Vallerand has found thatpassion leads to deliberatepractice, and that autonomysupport from teachers andparentsleadstopassion.

“I just wanted to make myown”: Will Shortz, crosswordpuzzle editor for theNewYorkTimes, in an interviewwith theauthor,February28,2015.

“my first crossword”: ElisabethAndrews, “20 Questions forWillShortz,”BloomMagazine,December 2007/January 2008,58.

“Isoldmyfirstpuzzle”:Shortz,interview.

“what I was supposed to do”:Jackie Bezos, in an interviewwiththeauthor,August6,2015.

Jackie also told me that Jeff’searly love of space has neverwaned. His high schoolvaledictory speech was aboutcolonizingspace.Decadeslater,he created Blue Origin toestablish a permanent presenceinspace:www.blueorigin.com.

“because they’re so diverse”:Shortz,interview.

“callthemshort-termers”: JaneGolden, founder and executivedirector of the Mural ArtsProgram, in an interview withtheauthor,June5,2015.

“it’s a basic drive”: Paul Silvia,associate professor ofpsychologyat theUniversityofNorth Carolina at Greensboro,inaninterviewwith theauthor,July22,2015.

enduring interests: Paul J.Silvia, “Interest—the CuriousEmotion,”CurrentDirectionsinPsychological Science 17(2008):57–60.

“how eager to learn”: Seewww.templeton.org.

“they’re not sure what it’s allabout”:Silvia,interview.

“How to Solve the New YorkTimes Crossword Puzzle”:WillShortz,“HowtoSolve theNew York Times CrosswordPuzzle,” New York TimesMagazine,April8,2001.

“with a slightly new turn”:James,TalkstoTeachers,108.

CHAPTER7:PRACTICEgrittier kids at the National

Spelling Bee: Duckworth etal.,“Grit.”

“bebetterthanthelast”:Lacey,interview.

worldexpertonworldexperts:Anders Ericsson and RobertPool, Peak: Secrets from theNewScienceofExpertise (NewYork: Houghton MifflinHarcourt, 2016). See also, K.Anders Ericsson, “TheInfluence of Experience andDeliberate Practice on theDevelopment of SuperiorExpert Performance,” in TheCambridge Handbook ofExpertise and ExpertPerformance, ed. K. AndersEricssonetal.(Cambridge,UK:Cambridge University Press,

2006).K.AndersEricsson,RalfTh. Krampe, and ClemensTesch-Römer, “The Role ofDeliberate Practice in theAcquisition of ExpertPerformance,” PsychologicalReview100(1993):363–406.

their rate of improvementslows: SeeK.AndersEricssonand PaulWard, “Capturing theNaturally Occurring SuperiorPerformance of Experts in theLaboratory,”CurrentDirectionsin Psychological Science 16(2007): 346–50. See alsoAllenNewell and Paul S.

Rosenbloom, “Mechanisms ofSkill Acquisition and the LawofPractice,” inCognitiveSkillsandTheirAcquisition, ed. JohnR. Anderson (Hillsdale, NJ:Lawrence Erlbaum Associates,1981), 1–56. Grit paragons tellme, in so many words, that ifyou had a magnifying glass,you’d see that learning curvesare not smooth at all. Instead,there are “mini” plateaus—getting stuck on a problem forhours, days, weeks or evenlonger, and then suddenly abreakthrough. Ninety-six-year-

oldMacArthurFellowandpoetIrvingFeldmanputittomethisway: “Learning isn’t an evenlyrisingslope,butaseriesofleapsfromplateautoplateau.”

ten thousand hours ofpractice: Ericsson et al., “TheRoleofDeliberatePractice.”

“make a mature dancer”:Martha Graham, “I Am aDancer,” on Edward R.Murrow’sThis I Believe, CBS,circa 1953. Republished onNPR, “An Athlete of God,”January 4, 2006,

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5065006.

“seasoned press dispatcher”:BryanLoweWilliamandNobleHarter, “Studies on theTelegraphic Language: TheAcquisition of a Hierarchy ofHabits,” Psychological Review6 (1899): 358. Also relevant isJohn R. Hayes, “CognitiveProcesses in Creativity,” inHandbook of Creativity, ed.John A. Glover, Royce R.Ronning,andCecilR.Reynolds(New York: Springer, 1989),135–45.

is just a roughaverage: SeeK.Anders Ericsson, “The Dangerof Delegating Education toJournalists: Why the APSObserver Needs Peer ReviewWhen Summarizing NewScientific Developments”(unpublishedmanuscript,2012),https://psy.fsu.edu/faculty/ericsson/ericsson.hp.html

“not doing deliberate practice”:K. Anders Ericsson, professorof psychology at Florida StateUniversity,inconversationwiththeauthor,December2005.

intentionally seek outchallenges: Ericsson et al.,“The Role of DeliberatePractice.”

“I’d try tohold1: 14”: Gaines,interview.

“that needs problem solving”:Roberto Díaz, president andCEO of the Curtis Institute ofMusic, inan interviewwith theauthor,October7,2015.

“every single piece of mygame”: An additional 15percent of his time, he says, isfor playing pick-up, either one-

on-oneorthree-on-three,sothatthe microrefinements he hasworked on can be integratedintoteamplay.And,finally,thelast 15 percent is for organizedgames. “Kevin Durant,” TheFilmRoomProject.

“there we were, stuck”: UlrikJuul Christensen, executivechairman of Area9 and seniorfellow at McGraw-HillEducation, in an interviewwiththeauthor,July15,2015.

first studied in chess players:Herbert A. Simon andWilliamG. Chase, “Skill in Chess:

Experiments with Chess-Playing Tasks and ComputerSimulation of SkilledPerformance Throw Light onSome Human Perceptual andMemory Processes,” AmericanScientist 61 (1973): 394–403.See also: Ericsson et al., “TheRoleofDeliberatePractice.”

“and corrected them”: TheAutobiography of BenjaminFranklin: With an Introductionand Notes (New York:MacMillan Company, 1921),14.

“no gains without pains”:Benjamin Franklin, “The Wayto Wealth,” in Memoirs ofBenjaminFranklin (NewYork:Harper&Brothers,1839),7.

“asmallnumberofpractices”:Peter F. Drucker,The EffectiveExecutive:TheDefinitiveGuideto Getting the Right ThingsDone (New York:HarperCollins,2006),ix.

“for years on end”: AtulGawande, “The LearningCurve: Like Everyone Else,SurgeonsNeedPractice. That’s

Where You Come In,” NewYorker,January28,2002.

“that’s what magic is to me”:DavidBlaine,“HowIHeldMyBreath for 17 Minutes,” TEDvideo, filmed October 2009,http://www.ted.com/talks/david_blaine_how_i_held_my_breath_for_17_minSeealsoRoyF.BaumeisterandJohn Tierney, Willpower:Rediscovering the GreatestHuman Strenth (New York:Penguin,2011).

pored through publishedbooks:BarrieTrinkle,CarolynAndrews, and Paige Kimble,How to Spell Like a Champ:

Roots, Lists, Rules, Games,Tricks, and Bee-Winning Tipsfrom the Pros (New York:WorkmanPublishingCompany,2006)

“studying as hard as I can”:JamesMaguire,American Bee:The National Spelling Bee andthe Culture of Word Nerds(Emmaus, PA: Rodale, 2006),360.

deliberate practice predicted:Angela Duckworth et al.,“Deliberate Practice SpellsSuccess: Why GrittierCompetitors Triumph at the

National Spelling Bee,” SocialPsychological and PersonalityScience 2 (2011): 174–81.Getting quizzed also predicteddoing well in competition, butwhen comparing kids who gotquizzed the same amount oftime to eachother, I found thatthose who did more deliberatepractice did better. In contrast,when comparing kids who didthe same amount of deliberatepractice to each other, I foundthatmorequizzingproducednoadvantage.

benefits to being quizzed:Henry L. Roediger and JeffreyD. Karpicke, “The Power ofTesting Memory: BasicResearch and Implications forEducational Practice,”Perspectives on PsychologicalScience1(2006):181–210.

tenhoursperweek:Duckworthetal.,“SpellsSuccess,”177.

come to a differentconclusion: On theeffortfulness of learning, seealso Elizabeth L. Bjork andRobert Bjork, “Making Things

HardonYourself,butinaGoodWay: Creating DesirableDifficulties to EnhanceLearning,” in Psychology andthe Real World: EssaysIllustrating FundamentalContributions to Society, ed.Morton A. Gernsbacher et al.(New York: Worth Publishers,2011), 56–64. See also SidneyK. D’Mello and Arthur C.Graesser, “Confusion” inInternational Handbook ofEmotions in Education, ed.Reinhard Pekrun and Lisa

Linnenbrink-Garcia(NewYork:Routledge,2014),289–310.

experienced as supremelyeffortful: Ericsson et al., “TheRoleofDeliberatePractice.”

“dailysmalldeaths”:Graham,“IAmaDancer.”

“you’re concentrating andyou’re exhausted”: JuddApatow,interviewedbyCharlieRose, Charlie Rose, July 31,2009, republished in Apatow,SickintheHead:ConversationsAbout Life and Comedy (New

York: Random House, 2015),26.

to keep doing it: K. AndersEricsson, “How Experts Attainand Maintain SuperiorPerformance: Implications forthe Enhancement of SkilledPerformance in OlderIndividuals,” Journal of AgingandPhysical Activity 8 (2000):366–72.

“a feeling of spontaneity”:Karen Stansberry Beard,“Theoretically Speaking: AnInterview with MihalyCsikszentmihalyi on Flow

Theory Development and ItsUsefulness in AddressingContemporary Challenges inEducation,” EducationalPsychology Review 27 (2015):358. Csikszentmihalyi hasemphasizedthatwhatmatterstothe quality of our momentaryexperience is the subjectivelevel of challenge and thesubjectivelevelofskill.

“just flows out by itself”:MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, “PlayandIntrinsicRewards,”Journalof Humanistic Psychology 15(1975):50.

“automatically withoutthinking”: MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, “Flow: TheJoy of Reading,” inApplicationsofFlow inHumanDevelopment: The CollectedWorks of MihalyCsikszentmihalyi (Dordrecht,Netherlands: Springer, 2014),233.

“incompatible with deliberatepractice”: K. Anders Ericssonand PaulWard, “Capturing theNaturally Occurring SuperiorPerformance of Experts in the

Laboratory,”CurrentDirectionsin Psychological Science 16(2007):349.

“by no means self-evident”:Csikszentmihalyi, ApplicationsofFlow,xx.

“butitsfruitsaresweet”:Ibid.“achievewhatyoudesire”:Ibid.“passion and world-class

performance”: MihalyCsikszentmihalyiandK.AndersEricsson, “Passion and World-Class Performance”(presentation, University of

Pennsylvania,Philadelphia,PA,August2006).

flowandgrit: In thisstudy, flowwas measured using apreviously validated six-itemquestionnaire whose possiblescores ranged from aminimumof 1 and a maximum of 5.Example item: “Whether atworkorplay,Iamusually‘inazone’ and not conscious ofmyself.” SeeKatherineR.VonCulin, Eli Tsukayama, andAngela L. Duckworth,“Unpacking Grit: MotivationalCorrelates of Perseverance and

Passion for Long-term Goals,”Journal of Positive Psychology9(2014):1–7.

“I swam around the world”:Gaines,interview.

“It’s about hard work”: MadsRasmussen, Danish rower andOlympic gold medalist, in aninterviewwith the author, June28,2015.

“testament to the work”: RodGilmour,“LedeckyBettersOwn1500m Freestyle WorldRecord,” Reuters, August 3,2015,http://in.reuters.com/article/2015/08/03/swimming-world-1500m-idINKCN0Q813Y20150803.

“showsoffinthemeet”:AshleyBranca, “Katie Ledecky: ‘I’ve

JustAlwaysFeltComfortableinthe Water from Day One,’ ”Guardian,March10,2015.

said they enjoyed it more:Duckworth et al., “SpellsSuccess.”

“she has that attitude”: BruceGemmell, USA National Teamswimming coach, in aninterview with the author,August24,2015.

“and getting it done”: KerryClose, 2006 Scripps NationalSpelling Bee champion, in an

interview with the author,August10,2015.

basic requirements ofdeliberate practice: K.Anders Ericsson, “TheInfluence of Experience andDeliberate Practice on theDevelopment of SuperiorExpert Performance,” inCambridge Handbook ofExpertise and ExpertPerformance ed. K. AndersEricssonetal.(Cambridge,UK:Cambridge University Press),685–706. For a fascinatingstudy of the importance of

practicing “strategically,” seeRobert Duke, Amy Simmons,andCarlaDavisCash,“It’sNotHow Much; It’s How:Characteristics of PracticeBehavior and Retention ofPerformanceSkills,”JournalofResearchinMusicEducation56(2009):31021.

it’s not hours of brute-force:Rasmussen,interview.

until he was twenty-two: NoaKageyama, performancepsychologist at The JulliardSchool,inaninterviewwiththeauthor,September21,2015.

challenging,effortfulpractice:Lauren Eskreis-Winkler et al.,“Using Wise Interventions toMotivate Deliberate Practice,”Journal of Personality andSocialPsychology(inpress).

You just do: Judith A. Ouelletteand Wendy Wood, “Habit andIntentioninEverydayLife:TheMultiple Processes by WhichPast Behavior Predicts FutureBehavior,” PsychologicalBulletin124(1998):54–74.Seealso, Charles Duhigg, ThePower of Habit: Why We DoWhat We Do in Life and

Business (New York: RandomHouse,2012).

rose at dawn: Mason Currey,DailyRituals:HowArtistsWork(New York: Alfred A. Knopf,2013),217–18.

a“tinymean”hotelroom:Ibid.,122.

“beginning of every bit ofwork”: William James, “TheLaws of Habits,” The PopularScience Monthly 30 (1887):447.

“with your nose”: RobertCompton, “Joyce Carol Oates

Keeps Punching,” DallasMorning News, November 17,1987.

“feel great while you’re doingit”:TerryLaughlin,headcoachand chief executive optimist(notkidding,that’shisrealtitle)ofTotal ImmersionSwimming,inan interviewwith theauthor,July24,2015.

toddlers don’t mind at all:Elena Bodrova and DeborahLeong, creators of theTools ofthe Mind curriculum for earlychildhood education, in aninterview with the author, July

15, 2015. See also AdeleDiamond and Kathleen Lee,“Interventions Shown to AidExecutive FunctionDevelopment in Children 4 to12 Years Old,” Science 333(2011): 959–64. Clancy Blairand C. Cybele Raver, “Closingthe Achievement Gap ThroughModificationofNeurocognitiveand Neuroendocrine Function,”PLoSONE9(2014):1–13.

“give their best effort”:Gemmell,interview.

CHAPTER8:PURPOSE“have a lemonade stand”:

Alex’s Lemonade Stand,http://www.alexslemonade.org.

this three-phase progression:Bloom,DevelopingTalent.

“the larger purpose andmeaning”: Bloom,DevelopingTalent,527.

“new perspective on life”:Golden,interview.

Election Day never comes:Melissa Dribben, “Gracing theCity Jane Golden Has MadeMural Arts the Nation’s Top

Public Arts Program,”Philadelphia Inquirer, July 27,2008,http://articles.philly.com/2008-07-27/news/25245217_1_jane-seymour-golden-globes-philadelphia-s-mural-arts-program.

“so I find ways to getenergized”:Ibid.

“it’s a moral imperative”:Golden,interview.

“beautiful bottle of wine”:AntonioGalloni,winecriticandfounder of Vinous, in an

interview with the author, July24,2015

“a million lightbulbs”: “Liv-ExInterviewwithAntonioGalloni,Part One,” Liv-Ex Blog,December 13, 2013,www.blog.liv-ex.com/2013/12/liv-ex-interview-with-antonio-galloni-part-one.html.

“sense of purpose”: Galloni,interview.

purpose, pleasure, and age:These data are originallyreported in Von Culin,

Tsukayama, and Duckworth,“UnpackingGrit.”

well-being of others: Differentscholars use the word purposeinslightlydifferentways.Oftenit is emphasized that a goal, tobe purposeful, has to bemeaningful to the self and, atthe same time, beneficial toothers. Here I emphasize thebeyond-the-self aspect ofpurpose because we alreadycovered the more self-orientedmotivationofinterestinthelastchapter.

the eudaimonic life: Aristotle,TheNicomacheanEthics, trans.David Ross (Oxford, UK:OxfordUniversityPress,2009),5.

“pleasure principle”: SigmundFreud,“FormulationsRegardingthe Two Principles in MentalFunctioning,” in The StandardEdition of the CompletePsychological Works ofSigmund Freud, vol. 12, trans.JamesStracheyandAnnaFreud(London:HogarthPress,1958),218–26.

evolved to seek meaning: SeeJohn T. Cacioppo andWilliamPatrick, Loneliness: HumanNatureand theNeed forSocialConnection (New York: W.W.Norton&Company,2008).Seealso Roy F. Baumeister andMark R. Leary, “The Need toBelong:DesireforInterpersonalAttachments as a FundamentalHuman Motivation,”Psychological Bulletin 117(1995): 497–529. Finally, seeEdward L. Deci with RichardFlaste, Why We Do What WeDo: Understanding Self-

Motivation (New York:Penguin,1995).Notethatrecentprimate studies show thatlongevity and reproductivesuccessdependontheabilitytoform strong, enduring socialbondswithothers.Thedesiretoconnect is as basic a human—even mammalian—need as theneed for pleasure. See RobertM. Seyfarth and Dorothy L.Cheney, “The EvolutionaryOrigins of Friendship,” AnnualReview of Psychology 63(2012):153–77.

than we care about pleasure:Richard M. Ryan and EdwardL. Deci, “On Happiness andHuman Potential: A Review ofResearch on Hedonic andEudaimonic Well-Being,”Annual Review of Psychology52(2001):141–66.

whichofthethreebricklayers:Amy Wrzesniewski, ClarkMcCauley, Paul Rozin, andBarrySchwartz,“Jobs,Careers,andCallings:People’sRelationsto Their Work,” Journal ofResearch in Personality 31(1997):25.

theiroccupationsacalling:Wecollectedthisdatain2015.

than those with a job:Wrzesniewski et al., “Jobs,Careers,andCallings,”25.

survey of 982 zookeepers: J.StuartBundersonandJefferyA.Thompson, “The Call of theWild:Zookeepers,Callings,andthe Double-Edged Sword ofDeeply Meaningful Work,”Administrative ScienceQuarterly54(2009):32–57.

“Monday through Friday sortof dying”: Studs Terkel,

Working: People Talk AboutWhatTheyDoAllDayandHowTheyFeelAboutWhatTheyDo(New York: Pantheon Books,1974), xi. Note that the namesoftheworkersinTerkel’sbookwerepseudonyms.

“Idon’tthinkIhaveacalling”:Ibid.,521–24.

“find a savor in their dailyjob”:Ibid.,xi.

“It’s meaningful to society”:Ibid.,103–6.

when she studied secretaries:Wrzesniewski et al., “Jobs,Careers,andCallings.”

“waiting to be discovered”:Amy Wrzesniewski, professorof organizational behavior atYaleSchoolofManagement,inan interview with the author,January27,2015.

all the way to Chicago:Metropolitan Transit Authority,“Facts and Figures,” accessedMarch 10, 2015,http://web.mta.info/nyct/facts/ffsubway.htm

“and I got hired”: Joe Leader,senior vice president at NewYork City Transit, in aninterview with the author,February26,2015.

“experience I’ve ever had”:Michael Baime, clinicalassociate professor ofmedicineat the University ofPennsylvaniaanddirectorofthePennProgram forMindfulness,inan interviewwith theauthor,January21,2015.

having fun at the same time:The next year, we doubled insize and, to better support ourstudents, developed an after-schoolenrichmentprogram.Thefollowing year, the programwon the Better GovernmentAward for the state of

Massachusetts. Around thesame time, professors at theHarvard Kennedy School ofGovernmentwrote up the storyofSummerbridgeCambridgeasa case study in socialentrepreneurship.

hundreds of students everyyear: Formore information onBreakthrough Greater Boston,seewww.breakthroughgreaterboston.org

“you can have both”: AdamGrant, Class of 1965 WhartonProfessorofManagement,inan

interview with the author, July15,2015.

prosocial interests inminddobetter: AdamGrant,Give andTake: Why Helping OthersDrivesOurSuccess(NewYork:Penguin,2014).

interest in the work itself:Adam Grant, “Does IntrinsicMotivation Fuel the ProsocialFire? Motivational Synergy inPredicting Persistence,Performance,andProductivity,”Journal of Applied Psychology93(2008):48–58.

raisedmoremoney:Ibid.about a hundred adolescents:

DavidS.YeagerandMatthewJ.Bundick, “The Role ofPurposeful Work Goals inPromotingMeaninginLifeandin Schoolwork DuringAdolescence,” Journal ofAdolescentResearch24(2009):423–52. Relatedly, it’s beenshownthataffirmingvaluescanboost performance for otherreasons, particularly bymaintainingasenseofpersonaladequacy. Geoffrey L. Cohenand David K. Sherman, “The

Psychology of Change: Self-Affirmation and SocialPsychological Intervention,”Annual Review of Psychology65(2014):333–71.

“didn’t give in to obstacles”:Aurora and Franco Fonte, wifeand husband founders anddirectors of Assetlink, in aninterview with the author,March13,2015.

“something you’re interestedin”: Bill Damon, professor ofpsychology at StanfordGraduate School of Education,

inan interviewwith theauthor,July20,2015.

personal loss or adversity: Forexample, detectives who havethemselvesbeenthevictimofacrime are grittier and, in turn,moreengagedintheirwork.SeeLauren Eskreis-Winkler,Elizabeth P. Shulman, andAngela L. Duckworth,“Survivor Mission: Do ThoseWho Survive Have a Drive toThrive at Work?” Journal ofPositive Psychology 9 (2014):209–18.

“became family to her”: KatCole,presidentofCinnabon, inan interview with the author,February1,2015.

exceeded one billion dollars:CharlotteAlter,“HowtoRunaBillion Dollar Brand BeforeYou’re35,”Time,December2,2014.

“Mypassionistohelppeople”:Jo Barsh, in an interview withtheauthor,July31,2015.

“liketheyarethatperson”:KatCole,“SeeWhat’sPossible,andHelp Others Do the Same,”

from Kat Cole’s blog, TheDifference, August 7, 2013,http://www.katcole.net/2013/08/see-whats-possible-and-help-others-do.html.

“be a better place?”: David S.Yeager et al., “Boring butImportant:A Self-TranscendentPurpose for Learning FostersAcademic Self-Regulation,”Attitudes and Social Cognition107(2014):559–80.

calls this idea job crafting:AmyWrzesniewskiandJaneE.Dutton, “Crafting a Job:

Revisioning Employees asActiveCraftersofTheirWork,”Academy of ManagementReview26(2001):179–201.Seealso www.jobcrafting.org andGrant,Give and Take, 262–63.This section also reflectspersonal correspondencebetween the author and AmyWrzesniewski, professor oforganizational behavior at YaleSchoolofManagement,October20,2015.

“beabetterperson”: Interestedreaders can find a morecomplete list of questions that

Bill Damon uses in his book,The Path to Purpose: HowYoung People Find TheirCallinginLife(NewYork:FreePress,2008),183–86.

CHAPTER9:HOPEgetting up again: For a more

expansive discussion of howhopecanbeconceptualized,seeKevin L. Rand, Allison D.Martin, and Amanda M. Shea,“Hope, but Not Optimism,PredictsAcademicPerformanceof Law Students Beyond

Previous AcademicAchievement,” Journal ofResearch in Personality 45(2011):683–86.AlsoseeShaneJ. Lopez, Making HopeHappen:CreatetheFutureYouWant for Yourself and Others(NewYork:AtriaBooks,2013).

major in—neurobiology: AtHarvarduntil2006,youactuallydeclared your “concentration”(which is Harvard’sterminologyfor“major”),inthespring of your freshman yearand at the same time mappedout every class you intended to

take. My official concentrationwas the neurobiology trackwithin biology, sinceneurobiology as a separateconcentration was not createduntilyearslater.

the punishments to stop:Steven F.Maier andMartin E.Seligman, “LearnedHelplessness: Theory andEvidence,” Journal ofExperimental Psychology 105(1976): 3–46. The seminalstudies on learned helplessnessactually had a triadic design,meaning that there was a third

condition:dogswhoreceivednoshock at all. In general, thesedogsbehavedsimilarlytothosewho were subjected to stresswith control. Some of thematerial in this chapter is froman interview between Seligmanand the author, July 20, 2015.SeealsoMartinE.P.Seligman,Learned Optimism: How toChange Your Mind and YourLife (NewYork:PocketBooks,1990).

practical antidotes fordepression: For more

informationonAaronBeck,seewww.beckinstitute.org.

distinguish optimists frompessimists: ChristopherPeterson et al., “TheAttributional StyleQuestionnaire,” CognitiveTherapyandResearch6(1982):287–300. See also Lyn Y.Abramson, Gerald I. Metalsky,and Lauren B. Alloy,“Hopelessness Depression: ATheory-Based Subtype ofDepression,” PsychologicalReview96(1989):358–72.

suffer from depression andanxiety: Peter Schulman,CamiloCastellon,andMartinE.P. Seligman, “AssessingExplanatoryStyle:TheContentAnalysis of VerbatimExplanations and theAttributional StyleQuestionnaire,” BehaviouralResearch and Therapy 27(1989):505–9.

drop out of school: Leslie P.Kamen and Martin E. P.Seligman, “Explanatory StylePredicts College Grade Point

Average” (unpublishedmanuscript, 1985). ChristopherPeterson and Lisa C. Barrett,“Explanatory Style andAcademic Performance AmongUniversity Freshman,” Journalof Personality and SocialPsychology53(1987):603–7.

stayhealthier:ToshihikoMaruto,Robert C. Colligan, MichaelMalinchoc, and Kenneth P.Offord, “Optimists vs.Pessimists: Survival RateAmongMedicalPatientsOvera30-Year Period,” Mayo ClinicProceedings75(2000):140–43.

ChristopherPeterson,MartinE.P. Seligman, “PessimisticExplanatory Style Is a RiskFactor for Physical Illness: AThirty-Five-Year LongitudinalStudy,” Journal of Personalityand Social Psychology 55(1988):23–27.

satisfied with their marriages:KarenJ.HornefferandFrankD.Fincham, “Construct ofAttributional Style inDepression and MaritalDistress,” Journal of FamilyPsychology 9 (1995): 186–95.See also, Horneffer and

Fincham,“AttributionalModelsof Depression and Distress,”Personality and SocialPsychology Bulletin 22 (1996):678–89.

sell about 25 percent moreinsurance: On optimism andsales,seeMartinE.P.Seligmanand Peter Schulman,“Explanatory Style as aPredictor of Productivity andQuittingAmongLife InsuranceSales Agents,” Journal ofPersonality and SocialPsychology 50 (1986): 832–38.Shulman, “Explanatory Style.”

See also Peter Schulman,“ApplyingLearnedOptimismtoIncrease Sales Productivity,”Journal of Personal Selling &Sales Management 19 (1999):31–37.

swim inhisorherbestevent:Martin E. P. Seligman,“Explanatory Style as aMechanism of DisappointingAthletic Performance,”PsychologicalScience1(1990):143–46.

“I will just carry on”: Lacey,interview.

couldbethetargetoftherapy:Aaron T. Beck, A. John Rush,Brian F. Shaw, and GaryEmery, Cognitive Therapy ofDepression (New York:GuilfordPress,1979).Alsonotethat, in the same era, AlbertEllis developed a similarapproach.SoBeckandEllisarejointlyrecognizedaspioneersinwhatisnowcommonlyreferredto as cognitive behavioraltherapy.

longer-lasting in its effects:Robert J. DeRubeis et al.,“Cognitive Therapy vs

MedicationsintheTreatmentofModerate to SevereDepression,” Archives ofGeneral Psychiatry 62 (2005):409–16.StevenD.Hollonetal.,“Prevention of RelapseFollowingCognitiveTherapyvsMedications in Moderate toSevereDepression,”ArchivesofGeneral Psychiatry 62 (2005):417–22. Some patients strugglewith the aspect of CBT thatinvolves trying to talkthemselvesoutoftheirnegativeself-talk. These patients saythingslike:“Inmyhead,Iknow

it’s not fair to call myself aloser. I’m labeling myself, I’mengaging in all-or-nothingthinking. But in my heart, partof me still feels like a loser—likeI’llneverbegoodenough.”AnewformofCBT,acceptanceand commitment therapy(ACT), addresses theseconcerns. In ACT, the goal issimply to notice any negativeself-talk and accept that it

exists, while not letting itcontrolyouractions.

“Relentless pursuit”:Information on Teach ForAmerica’s mission and historycan be found atwww.teachforamerica.org.

optimistic teachers weregrittier:ClaireRobertson-Kraftand Angela L. Duckworth,“True Grit: Perseverance andPassion for Long-term GoalsPredicts Effectiveness andRetention Among NoviceTeachers,” Teachers College

Record (1970) 116 (2014): 1–24.

one of Carol’s first studies:Carol S. Dweck, “The Role ofExpectationsandAttributionsinthe Alleviation of LearnedHelplessness,” Journal ofPersonality and SocialPsychology31(1975):674–85.

assess a person’s theory ofintelligence: This measurewasdevelopedbyCarolDweck,Sheri Levy, ValanneMacGyvers, C.Y. Chiu, andYing-yi Hong. For interestedreaders, I highly recommend

Carol Dweck, Mindset: TheNew Psychology of Success(New York: Ballantine Books,2008).

positive social relationships:SeeCarolS.Dweck,“Mindsetsand Human Nature: PromotingChange in theMiddleEast, theSchoolyard, the Racial Divide,and Willpower,” AmericanPsychologist(2012):614–22.

persist through college: BrianGalla et al., “Intellective,Motivational, and Self-Regulatory Determinants ofHigh School Grades, SAT

Scores, and CollegePersistence” (manuscript underreview,2015).

KIPP Schools: For moreinformation on KIPP, seewww.kipp.org.

PromotesGrowthMindsetandGrit: This thesaurus wasoriginally developed bypsychologist David Yeager,whom I thank for this age-general revision. On genericstatements, see Daeun Park etal., “How Do GenericStatements Impact

Performance? Evidence forEntity Beliefs,” DevelopmentalScience (in press, 2015). Andfinally, on the importance of a“genuine” growth mindset, seeCarolS.Dweck,“CarolDweckRevisits the‘GrowthMindset’ ”EducationWeek,September22,2015.

“neverfailedtoimitatethem”:JamesBaldwin,NobodyKnowsMy Name (New York: VintageBooks,1993),61–62.

inadvertently inculcated afixedmindset: Daeun Park etal., “Young Children’s

Motivational Frameworks andMathAchievement:Relation toTeacher-Reported InstructionalPractices, but Not TeacherTheoryofIntelligence,”Journalof Educational Psychology (inpress,2015).

parentsreacttomistakes:KylaHaimovitzandCarolS.Dweck,“What Predicts Children’sFixed and Growth Mindsets?Not Their Parent’s Views ofIntelligence But Their Parents’Views of Failure” (manuscriptunderreview,2015).

apply in a corporate setting:HarvardBusinessReviewStaff,“How Companies Can Profitfrom a ‘Growth Mindset’ ”Harvard Business Review,November2014.

“tracked senior leaders”: BillMcNabb,CEOofVanguard, inan interview with the author,August20,2015.

“makesme stronger”: FriedrichNietzsche, The Anti-Christ,Ecce Homo, Twilight of theIdols: and Other Writings, ed.Aaron Ridley, trans. Judith

Norman (Cambridge, UK:Cambridge University Press,2005),157.

croon the same words: KanyeWest, “Stronger,” Graduation,2007. Kelly Clarkson sings apopularized version of thephrase, “What doesn’t kill youmakes you stronger,” in“Stronger (What Doesn’t KillYou),”Stronger,2011.

moreconfident: In fact, the ideathatsufferingcanmakeusmorecapableistimeless.Everymajorreligious tradition includes a

parable where suffering isnecessary for enlightenment.The Latin root of the wordpassionispati,whichmeans“tosuffer.” OED Online, OxfordUniversity Press, September2015.

“tenacity in pursuit”: For moreinformationonOutwardBound,seewww.outwardbound.org.

benefits tend to increase: JohnA. Hattie, Herbert W. Marsh,James T. Neill, and Garry E.Richards,“AdventureEducationand Outward Bound: Out-of-

ClassExperiencesThatMakeaLasting Difference,” Review ofEducational Psychology 67(1997):43–87.

were much more vulnerable:Maier and Seligman, “LearnedHelplessness.”

SteveMaier and his students:Kenneth H. Kubala et al.,“Short- and Long-TermConsequences of StressorControllability in AdolescentRats,” Behavioural BrainResearch234(2012):278–84.

“respond to stress”: Steven F.Maier, professor of psychology

and director of the Center forNeuroscience at the Universityof Colorado at Boulder, in aninterviewwiththeauthor,April2,2015.

Milton Hershey School: Notcoincidentally, Milton Hersheyhimselfexemplifiedgrit,havingstarted several unsuccessfulcompanies before developing,through trial and error, aformula formilk chocolate thatwould soonmake his companythe largest confectionary in theworld. He and his wife couldnot have children and therefore

created the Hershey School,which owns a controllinginterest in Hershey stock. FormoreinformationontheMiltonHersheySchoolanditsfounder,visitwww.mhskids.org.

alwayslearningandgrowing:Ifyou want to hear Kayvon’smusic, visitwww.kayvonmusic.com.

increased their IQ scores: SueRamsden et al., “Verbal andNon-Verbal IntelligenceChangesintheTeenageBrain,”Nature479(2011):113–16.

abilitytogrowmyelin:CarolS.Dweck, “The Secret to RaisingSmart Kids,” ScientificAmerican 23 (2015). Lisa S.Blackwell, Kali H.Trzesniewski, and Carol S.Dweck, “Implicit Theories ofIntelligence PredictAchievement Across anAdolescent Transition: ALongitudinal Study and inIntervention,” ChildDevelopment 78 (2007): 246–63. Joshua Aronson, Carrie B.Fried and Catherine Good,“Reducing the Effects of

Stereotype Threat on AfricanAmerican College Students byShaping Theories ofIntelligence,” Journal ofExperimental Psychology 38(2002): 113–25. DavidPaunesku et al., “Mind-SetInterventions Are a ScalableTreatment for AcademicUnderachievement,”Psychological Science (2015):1–10. Allyson P. Mackey,Kirstie J. Whitaker, and SilviaA. Bunge, “Experience-Dependent Plasticity in WhiteMatter Microstructure:

Reasoning Training AltersStructural Connectivity,”Frontiers in Neuroanatomy 6(2012): 1–9. Robert J. Zatorre,R. Douglas Fields, and HeidiJohansen-Berg, “Plasticity inGrayandWhite:NeuroimagingChanges in Brain StructureDuring Learning,” NatureNeuroscience 15 (2012): 528–36.

“resilience training”: The PennResilience Program wasdeveloped by Jane Gillham,KarenReivich,andLisaJaycox.This school-based program

teaches cognitive-behavioraland social-emotional skills tostudents using role plays,games, and interactiveactivities.SeeJ.E.Gillham,K.J.Reivich,L.H.Jaycox,andM.E. P. Seligman, “PreventingDepressive Symptoms inSchoolchildren: Two YearFollow-up,” PsychologicalScience 6 (1995): 343–51.Martin E. P. Seligman, PeterSchulman, Robert J. DeRubeis,and Steven D. Hollon, “ThePrevention of Depression andAnxiety,” Prevention and

Treatment2(1999).Notethatamore recent meta-analyticreviewconfirmedbenefitsoftheprogram over twelve monthspost-intervention in comparisonto no treatment, but not activetreatment, control conditions:StevenM.Brunwasser, Jane E.Gillham, and Eric S. Kim, “AMeta-Analytic Review of thePenn Resiliency Program’sEffect on DepressiveSymptoms,” Journal ofConsulting and ClinicalPsychology77(2009):1042–54.

cognitive behavioral therapy:For more information oncognitive therapy, seewww.beckinstitute.org.

“Igetbackonmyfeet”:RhondaHughes, Helen HerrmannProfessor of MathematicsEmeritusatBrynMawrCollegeand cofounder of the EDGEProgram, in conversation withtheauthor,May25,2013.

“Don’t give up!”: SylviaBozeman,professoremeritusofmathematics at SpelmanCollege,incorrespondencewith

the author, October 14, 2015.Sylviahasmadesimilarremarksin Edna Francisco, “Changingthe Culture of Math,” Science,September 16, 2005. I shouldalsonotethatsometimesthere’snobody available to tell you tokeepgoing.PsychologistKristinNeff suggests thinking aboutwhatyouwouldsay toa friendwho was struggling with asimilar situation, and then topractice saying similarcompassionate, understandingthingstoyourself.

CHAPTER10:PARENTINGFORGRIT“can quite overwhelm him”:

John B.Watson,PsychologicalCare of Infant and Child(London: Unwin Brothers,1928),14.

“givethemapatonthehead”:Ibid.,73.

“my parents were myfoundation”: Don Amore,“Redemption for a PurePasser?” Hartford Courant,January29,1995.

“I’d like to come home”:Grit:TheTrueStoryofSteveYoung,directed by Kevin Doman(Cedar Fort, KSL Television,andHomeSports,2014),DVD.

“You’renotcomingbackhere”:Ibid.

“I threw over 10,000 spirals”:SteveYoungwithJeffBenedict,“Ten Thousand Spirals,”chapter in forthcoming book,2015,http://www.jeffbenedict.com/index.php/blog/389-ten-thousand-spirals.

“I couldn’t get a hit”: Doman,Grit:TheTrueStory.

“you cannot quit”: ChristopherW.Hunt, “ForeverYoung,PartII: Resolve in the Face ofFailure,” Greenwich Time,February2,2013.

“and I’d be hitting them”:Doman,Grit:TheTrueStory.

“Endure to the end, Steve”:TheProFootballHallofFame,“Steve Young’s EnshrinementSpeech Transcript,” August 7,2005.

“The name really fits him”:Doman,Grit:TheTrueStory.

ten thousand sit-ups ina row:Kevin Doman, “Grit: The TrueStoryofSteveYoung,”DeseretNews,April4,2014.

“Our Steve is a great kid!”:SherryandGritYoung,parentsofSteveYoung,inaninterviewwith the author, August 23,2015.

“Everything is contextual”:Steve Young, formerquarterback of the SanFrancisco49ers,inaninterview

with the author, August 18,2015.

funniest comics in Britain:Observer, “The A-Z ofLaughter (Part Two),”Guardian,December7,2003.

“came from my family”:Francesca Martinez, comedian,inan interviewwith theauthor,August4,2015.

“then you can reassess”:Francesca Martinez, What the**** Is Normal?! (London:VirginBooks,2014),185.

“leave formal education”:Martinez, interview. In her

book,Francescagives a similaraccount.

“the throwing of objects”:Martinez, What the **** IsNormal?!,48.

“authoritative parenting”:WendyS.GrolnickandRichardM. Ryan, “Parent StylesAssociated with Children’sSelf-Regulation andCompetence in School,”Journal of EducationalPsychology 81 (1989): 143–54.Earl S. Schaefer, “AConfigurational Analysis ofChildren’s Reports of Parent

Behavior,” Journal ofConsulting Psychology 29(1965): 552–57. DianaBaumrind, “AuthoritativeParenting Revisited: Historyand Current Status,” inAuthoritative Parenting:Synthesizing Nurturance andDiscipline for Optimal ChildDevelopment, ed. Robert E.Larzelere, Amanda SheffieldMorris,andAmandaW.Harrist(Washington, D.C.: AmericanPsychological Association,2013),11–34.

a moratorium on furtherresearch: Laurence Steinberg,“Presidential Address: WeKnow Some Things: Parent-Adolescent Relationships inRetrospect and Prospect,”Journal of Research onAdolescence11(2001):1–19.

warm, respectful, anddemandingparents:LaurenceSteinberg, Nina S. Mounts,SusieD.Lamborn,andSanfordM. Dornbusch, “AuthoritativeParenting and AdolescentAdjustment Across Varied

Ecological Niches,” Journal ofResearch on Adolescence 1(1991):19–36.

acrossadecadeormore:KoenLuyckx et al., “Parenting andTrajectories of Children’sMaladaptive Behaviors: A 12-year Prospective CommunityStudy,” Journal of ClinicalChild&AdolescentPsychology40(2011):468–78.

messages their childrenreceive: Earl S. Schaefer,“Children’sReports of ParentalBehavior:AnInventory,”Child

Development 36 (1965): 413–24. Nancy Darling andLaurence Steinberg, “ParentingStyleasContext:AnIntegrativeModel,”Psychological Bulletin113(1993):487–96.

parenting assessment: Adaptedwith permission from NancyDarling and Teru Toyokawa,“ConstructionandValidationoftheParentingStyleInventoryII(PSI-II),” (unpublishedmanuscript,1997).

as virtual “carbon copies”:AlbertBandura,DorotheaRoss,and Sheila Ross, “Imitation of

Film-Mediated AggressiveModels,” Journal of Abnormaland Social Psychology 66(1963):3–11.

“work toward distant goals”:Bloom,DevelopingTalent,510.

“parents’ own interests”:Ronald S. Brandt, “On TalentDevelopment: A Conversationwith Benjamin Bloom,”Educational Leadership 43(1985):34.

the next generation: Center forPromise, Don’t Quit on Me:What Young People Who LeftSchool SayAbout thePower of

Relationships (Washington,D.C.: America’s PromiseAlliance, 2015),www.gradnation.org/report/dont-quit-me.

“fifty-something, grizzledrocker”: Tobi Lütke, “TheApprentice Programmer,” TobiLütke’s blog, March 3, 2013,http://tobi.lutke.com/blogs/news/11280301-the-apprentice-programmer.

emerging research onteaching:KathrynR.Wentzel,“Are Effective Teachers LikeGood Parents? Teaching Styles

and Student Adjustment inEarly Adolescence,” ChildDevelopment 73 (2002): 287–301. Douglas A. Bernstein,“Parenting and Teaching:What’s the Connection in OurClassrooms?” PsychologyTeacher Network, September2013,http://www.apa.org/ed/precollege/ptn/2013/09/parenting-teaching.aspx.

1,892 different classrooms:Ronald F. Ferguson andCharlotte Danielson, “HowFramework for Teaching andTripod 7Cs Evidence

DistinguishKeyComponentsofEffective Teaching,” inDesigning Teacher EvaluationSystems: New Guidance fromthe Measures of EffectiveTeachingProject,ed.ThomasJ.Kane,KerriA.Kerr,andRobertC. Pianta (San Francisco:Jossey-Bass,2014),98–133.

David Yeager and GeoffCohen: David ScottYeager etal., “Breaking the Cycle ofMistrust: Wise Interventions toProvide Critical FeedbackAcross the Racial Divide,”Journal of Experimental

Psychology143(2013):804–24.For the research on highlyeffective tutors that originallyinspired this intervention, seeMark R. Lepper and MariaWoolverton, “The Wisdom ofPractice:LessonsLearned fromthe Study of Highly EffectiveTutors,”inImprovingAcademicAchievement: Impact ofPsychological Factors onEducation, ed. Joshua Aronson(New York: Academic Press,2002),135–58.

“have very high expectations”:Yeager et al., “Breaking the

Cycle”CodyColeman: Cody Coleman,

PhD candidate in computerscience at Stanford University,inconversationwiththeauthor,May24,2013.

Chantel Smith: Chantel Smith,mathematicsteacheratWinslowTownship High School, inconversation with the author,March15,2015.

“Stay positive”: Cody Coleman,interview by Stephanie Renée,900AM-WURD, October 31,2014.

CHAPTER11:THEPLAYINGFIELDSOFGRITboth challenged and having

fun: Reed W. Larson andDouglas Kleiber, “DailyExperience of Adolescents,” inHandbook ofClinical Researchand Practice with Adolescents,ed. Patrick H. Tolan andBertramJ.Cohler(Oxford,UK:John Wiley & Sons, 1993),125–45. Reed W. Larson,“Positive Development in aDisorderly World,” Journal ofResearch on Adolescence 21

(2011): 317–34. Data areoriginally from Reed W.Larson, Giovanni Moneta,Maryse H. Richards, andSuzanne Wilson, “Continuity,Stability, and Change in DailyEmotional Experience AcrossAdolescence,” ChildDevelopment 73 (2002): 1151–65.

AdaptedwithpermissionfromYoungetal.poster

See also David J.Shernoff, MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, BarbaraSchneider, and Elisa SteeleShernoff, “StudentEngagement inHighSchoolClassrooms from thePerspective of FlowTheory,” School PsychologyQuarterly 18 (2003): 158–76. David J. Shernoff andDeborah Lowe Vandell,“Engagement in After-School Program Activities:Quality of Experience fromthe Perspective of

Participants,” Journal ofYouth and Adolescence 36(2007): 891–903. KiyoshiAsakawa and MihalyCsikszentmihalyi, “TheQuality of Experience ofAsianAmericanAdolescentsin Academic Activities: AnExploration of EducationalAchievement,” Journal ofResearch on Adolescence 8(1998):241–62.

involved in extracurriculars:Reed W. Larson, “Toward aPsychology of Positive YouthDevelopment,” American

Psychologist55(2000):170–83.SeealsoRobertD.Putnam,OurKids: The American Dream inCrisis (New York: Simon &Schuster,2015),174–82.

predicts better outcomes: Forexample, see JenniferFredricksand Jacquelynne S. Eccles,“Extracurricular ParticipationAssociated with BeneficialOutcomes? Concurrent andLongitudinal Relations,”Developmental Psychology 42(2006):698–713.

playing video games: Bureau ofLabor Statistics, “AmericanTime Use Survey,” AverageHoursSpentPerDayinLeisureand Sports Activities, byYoungest and OldestPopulations Graph, 2013,http://www.bls.gov/TUS/CHARTS/LEISURE.HTMSee also Vanessa R. Wight,Joseph Price, Suzanne M.Bianchi, and Bijou R. Hunt,“The Time Use of Teenagers,”Social Science Research 38(2009):792–809.

success in adulthood: MargoGardner,JodieRoth,andJeanneBrooks-Gunn, “Adolescents’Participation in OrganizedActivities and DevelopmentalSuccess 2 and 8 Years AfterHigh School: Do Sponsorship,Duration,andIntensityMatter?”Developmental Psychology 44(2008):814–30.

Willingham was the director:WarrenH.Willingham,Successin College: The Role ofPersonal Qualities andAcademic Ability (New York:College Entrance Examination

Board, 1985). Around the timeWarren Willingham wasconducting this study, histeenage son Dan went off tocollege to study psychology.Dan is now a professor ofpsychologyat theUniversityofVirginiaand,inthespiritofhisfather’s legacy, dedicated tohelping kids benefit fromadvances in cognitivepsychology.My favorite of hisbooks is Why Don’t StudentsLike School? (San Francisco:Jossey-Bass,2009).

beyondstandardized tests:Thepredictive validity ofstandardized achievement testsfor academic and professionaloutcomes is well-documented.See the work of psychologistsPaulSackettandNathanKuncelin particular. My claim here isnot that achievement tests areinvalid, per se, but rather thatthey are an incomplete andimperfect metric for whatstudents know and can do. SeeAngela L. Duckworth, PatrickD. Quinn, and Eli Tsukayama,“What No Child Left Behind

LeavesBehind:TheRolesofIQand Self-Control in PredictingStandardizedAchievement TestScores and Report CardGrades,”JournalofEducationalPsychology104(2012):439–51.See also James J. Heckman,John Eric Humphries, and TimKautz, ed., The Myth ofAchievement Tests: The GEDand the Role of Character inAmerican Life (Chicago:University of Chicago Press,2014).

“purposeful, continuouscommitment”: Willingham,

SuccessinCollege,213.“winning an important meet”:

Michael Wines,“Extracurricular Work SpursSuccess in College,” LosAngeles Times, October 17,1985.

“productive follow-through”:Willingham,SuccessinCollege,193. For a review of theadvantages and disadvantagesof various approaches tomeasuringqualitieslikegrit,seeDuckworth and Yeager,“MeasurementMatters.”

atverydifferentrates:BrianM.Galla et al., “Cognitive andNoncognitive Determinants ofHigh School Grades, SATScores, and CollegePersistence,” Journal ofEducational Psychology (underreview,2015).

the Grit Grid: Alyssa J.Matteucci et al., “QuantifyingGrit from ExtracurricularActivities: A Biodata MeasureofPassionandPerseveranceforLong-Term Goals” (manuscriptinpreparation,2015).

extracurriculars of noviceteachers: Robertson-Kraft andDuckworth,“TrueGrit”

corresponsive principle: BrentW. Roberts and AvshalomCaspi, “The CumulativeContinuityModelofPersonalityDevelopment: Striking aBalance Between Continuityand Change in PersonalityTraitsAcross theLifeCourse,”in Understanding HumanDevelopment: Dialogues withLifespanPsychology,ed.UrsulaM. Staudinger and Ulman

Lindenberger (Norwell, MA:Kluwer Academic Publishers,2003),183–214.

“setlikeplaster”:WilliamJamesclaimed in 1890 that by agethirty, personality is “set likeplaster.” Quoted in Brent W.Roberts and Wendy F.DelVecchio, “The Rank-OrderConsistency of PersonalityTraits from Childhood to OldAge:AQuantitativeReviewofLongitudinal Studies,”Psychological Bulletin 126(2000):6.

change after childhood: Ibid.Avshalom Caspi, Brent W.Roberts,andRebeccaL.Shiner,“Personality Development:Stability and Change,” AnnualReview of Psychology 56(2005): 453–84. Brent W.Roberts, Kate E. Walton, andWolfgang Viechtbauer,“Patterns of Mean-LevelChange in Personality TraitsAcross the Life Course: AMeta-Analysis of LongitudinalStudies,” PsychologicalBulletin132(2006):1–25.

tendency toward sociability:Brent W. Roberts, AvshalomCaspi, and Terrie E. Moffitt,“Work Experiences andPersonality Development inYoung Adulthood,” Journal ofPersonality and SocialPsychology84(2003):582–93.

“It’s never far from reach”:William R. Fitzsimmons, deanof admissions and financial aidat Harvard College, in aninterview with the author,February17,2015.

“plainoldhardwork”:WilliamR. Fitzsimmons, “Guidance

Office:AnswersfromHarvard’sDean,Part3,”NewYorkTimes,September 14, 2009,http://thechoice.blogs.nytimes.com/tag/harvarddean

“all that grit”: Fitzsimmons,interview.

dropping precipitously: KaisaSnellman, Jennifer M. Silva,Carl B. Frederick, and RobertD. Putnam, “The EngagementGap: Social Mobility andExtracurricular ParticipationAmong American Youth,” TheAnnals of the American

AcademyofPoliticalandSocialScience657(2015):194–207.

Harlem Children’s Zone: Formore information on GeoffreyCanada and the HarlemChildren’s Zone, visitwww.hcz.org.

“a decent childhood”:GeoffreyCanada, founder and presidentof theHarlemChildren’sZone,inconversationwiththeauthor,May14,2012.

“I actually like kids”: GeoffreyCanada, “Our Failing Schools.EnoughIsEnough!”TEDTalks

Education video, filmed May2013,https://www.ted.com/talks/geoffrey_canada_our_failing_schools_enough_is_enough?language=en.

BobEisenberger:Forasummaryof his research, see RobertEisenberger, “LearnedIndustriousness,” PsychologicalReview 99 (1992): 248–67 andEisenberger’s book BlueMonday:TheLoss of theWorkEthic in America (New York:ParagonHouse,1989).

playing fields forgrit: Even forthoseofuswhoarebeyondour

high school and college years,therearemanyactivitieswecansign up for that offer challengeand support. For example, I’velearnedalotaboutgritfromJoeDeSena,founderoftheSpartanRace. Here’s a story from ourinterview:“WeliveinVermont.It gets very icy. My son is ontheskiteam.Oneday,hecomesinanhourbeforelunch.Hetellsmehecameinearlybecausehewas cold.” It turns out that therest of the team was still outpracticing. “Okay,” Joe said tohis son, “I understand you’re

cold. But you’re on the team,and the team is skiing, so nowyou’re on my team, and myteamdoesn’t take thechairlift.”Father and son then proceedoutside and hike up themountainonfoot,thesonupsetandcomplainingthewholeway.And then they skied down.Lesson over. “Sounds liketorture,” I said, half-joking.“The point was not to torturehim,” Joe replied. “The pointwas to show him it could be alot worse. We never had thatissueagainbecausenowhehad

a frame of reference that said,‘Okay, this is uncomfortable,but it could be a lot worse.’ ”Then Joe paused. “You know,I’vequitaracebefore.Ilearnedthere’sa lotworse thandealingwith the pain in front of me.That’s a lesson you need helplearning. You’re not bornknowingthat.”

CHAPTER12:ACULTUREOFGRIT“really have grit”: Pete Carroll,

interviewed by Eric Wayne

Davis,NFL AM, posted by theSeattleSeahawks,“PeteCarroll:‘We’re Looking for Grit,’ ”February 3, 2014,http://www.seahawks.com/video/2014/02/03/pete-carroll-were-looking-grit.

“be great competitors”: PeteCarroll, head coach of theSeattle Seahawks, in a phonecall with the author, May 13,2013.

“join a great team”: Chambliss,interview.

thinking a different way: LeeRoss and Richard E. Nisbett,

The Person and the Situation:Perspectives of SocialPsychology (London:McGraw-Hill, 1991).Thisbook sumsupallthisresearchbeautifully.

JamesMarch: James G. March,“How Decisions Happen inOrganizations,” Human-Computer Interaction 6 (1991):95–117.

“I am a West Pointer”: TomDeierlein, cofounder and CEOof ThunderCat Technology, inan email with the author,October29,2011.

“theygotused to it”:Deierlein,in an email to the author,September17,2015.

“the Finnish spirit”: Time,“Northern Theatre: Sisu,”January8,1940.

“he can stand worse”: HudsonStrode, “Sisu: A Word ThatExplains Finland,” New YorkTimes,January14,1940.

askedathousandFinns:EmiliaLahti, “Above and BeyondPerseverance: An Explorationof Sisu” (Masters Capstone,

University of Pennsylvania,2013).

“I wear this jersey”: Betty Liu,Work Smarts: What CEOs SayYouNeedtoKnowtoGetAhead(Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley &Sons,2014),7.

“Noonehereisinsignificant”:Thomas II, Amazon review of“Last Man Standing: TheAscent of JamieDimon and JPMorgan Chase,” October 8,2009,http://www.amazon.com/Last-Man-Standing-Ascent-JPMorgan/dp/B003STCKN0.

“grytte”: Ben Smith, “MasterHoward Dean,” Observer,December 8, 2003,http://observer.com/2003/12/master-howard-dean.

senior year at Browning: DuffMcDonald,LastManStanding:The Ascent of Jamie Dimon(New York: Simon andSchuster,2009),5.

“I call it fortitude”: JamieDimon, chairman, president,and CEO of JPMorgan Chase,inconversationwiththeauthor,April14,2015.

“the ultimate thing”: Dimon,interview.

“how they treat people”: NickSummers and Max Abelson,“Why JPMorgan’s JamieDimon is Wall Street’sIndispensableMan,”BloombergBusinessweek,May16,2013.

“let my kids work for them?”:Dimon,interview.

“actually in the arena”:TheodoreRoosevelt, “TheManin the Arena. Citizenship in aRepublic,” address delivered attheSorbonne,Paris,1910.

“notreasonstoquit”:JPMorganChase & Co., How We DoBusiness, 2014,http://www.jpmorganchase.com/corporate/About-JPMC/document/20140711_Website_PDF_FINAL.pdf

“that as a compliment”: TimCrothers, The Man Watching:Anson Dorrance and theUniversity of North CarolinaWomen’sSoccerDynasty (NewYork: Thomas Dunne, 2006),37.

“final measure of greatness”:Ibid.,106.

“It’s our culture”: AnsonDorrance, head coach of theUniversity of North Carolina’swomen’s soccer team, in aninterview with the author,August21,2015.

theBeepTest:LucA.Léger,D.Mercier, C. Gadoury, and J.Lambert, “The Multistage 20Metre Shuttle Run Test forAerobic Fitness,” Journal ofSports Sciences 6 (1988): 93–101.

“this is a test of yourmentality”: Dorrance, in an

interview with the author,September30,2015.

“language is everything”:Dimon,interview.

“making you happy”: GeorgeBernard Shaw, Man andSuperman: A Comedy and aPhilosophy (New York:Penguin,1903),32.Theoriginalpassage reads: “This is the truejoy in life, thebeingused forapurpose recognized by yourselfasamightyone...thebeingaforce of Nature instead of afeverish selfish little clod ofailments and grievances

complaining that theworldwillnotdevote itself tomakingyouhappy.”

theBugleNotes:West-Point.org,“Bugle Notes,” accessedFebruary 10, 2015,http://www.west-point.org/academy/malo-wa/inspirations/buglenotes.html.

“thantomakeanarmy”:MajorGeneral John M. Schofield,former superintendent of theUnited States MilitaryAcademy, address to cadets,August11,1879.

“the yelling and screaming”:Lieutenant General Robert L.Caslen, superintendent of theUnited States MilitaryAcademy, in an interview withtheauthor,September4,2015.

less than 2 percent: Dataprovided by the United StatesMilitaryAcademy.

“allows you to get there”:Carroll,WinForever,183.

“they can demonstratepassion”:“PeteCarrollReturnsto USC, Full Interview, 2014,”YouTubevideo,1:57:42,posted

March 20, 2014,https://youtube/jSizvISegnE.

“they’re helping me to getbetter”: Earl Thomas, “TakeNothing for Granted,” EarlThomas’s blog, January 25,2014,http://www.earlthomas.com/2014/01/25/take-nothing-granted.

“the worst call in NFLhistory”: Don Banks, “TheWorstPlayCallinNFLHistoryWill Continue to HauntSeahawks in 2015,” SportsIllustrated,July21,2015.

“failure is never fatal”: “TheWizard’s Wisdom:‘Woodenism,’ ” ESPN, June 5,2010.

“And use it. Use it!”: GregBishop, “Pete Carroll, NFL’sEternal Optimist, Is Ready toTurnHeartbreakintoTriumph,”Sports Illustrated, August 3,2015,http://www.si.com/nfl/2015/07/28/pete-carroll-seattle-seahawks-2015-season-super-bowl-xlix.

CHAPTER13:CONCLUSION

hand inhandwithwell-being:Victoria Young, Yuchen Lin,and Angela L. Duckworth,“AssociationsBetweenGritandSubjective Well-Being in aLarge Sample of US Adults,”poster presented at the 16thAnnual Convention of theSociety for Personality andSocialPsychology,LongBeach,CA,February2015.

betweentheextremes:Aristotle,NicomacheanEthics. AdamM.GrantandBarrySchwartz,“TooMuch of a Good Thing: TheChallenge and Opportunity of

theInvertedU,”PerspectivesinPsychologicalScience6(2011):61–76.

wanted tobegrittier: This datawascollectedin2015andisnotyetpublished.

honesty trumps all: Geoffrey P.Goodwin, Jared Piazza, andPaul Rozin, “Moral CharacterPredominates in PersonPerception and Evaluation,”Journal of Personality andSocial Psychology 106 (2014):148–68.

character is plural: I wish Icould take credit for theexpression, “character isplural.” I cannot. Many othershave made the sameobservation, includingChristopher Peterson andMartin Seligman in CharacterStrengths and Virtues (NewYork: OxfordUniversity Press,2004),10.

dimensionsofcharacter:DaeunPark et al., “A TripartiteTaxonomy of Character:Evidence for Interpersonal,

Intrapersonal, and IntellectualCompetencies in Youth,”(manuscript under review,2015). Note that these samethreevirtueclusterscorrespond,roughly, to the Big Fivepersonality dimensions ofconscientiousness,agreeableness, and openness toexperience.

tendtobeself-controlled:Iseeself-control as related butdistinct from grit. You can beself-controlledaboutagoalthatis not your top-level, ultimateconcern. And self-control isn’t

directly related to overcomingsetbacksandfailures.However,both grit and self-control areabout achieving valued goals.See Angela L. Duckworth andJames J. Gross, “Self-ControlandGrit:RelatedbutSeparableDeterminants of Success,”Current Directions inPsychological Science 23(2014): 319–25. I personallybelieve that self-control is anextraordinarilyimportantvirtue,and to learn more aboutstrategies that facilitate it andtheir benefits, see Walter

Mischel, The MarshmallowTest: Mastering Self-Control(New York: Little, Brown,2014), and Roy F. Baumeisterand John Tierney, Willpower:Rediscovering the GreatestHuman Strength (New York:Penguin,2011).

“resume virtues”; “eulogyvirtues”: David Brooks, TheRoad toCharacter (NewYork:RandomHouse,2015),xi.

worldofideas:Ihaven’ttouchedupon creativity in this book. Inmany endeavors, creativity is

absolutelyessential,andIdirectthe interested reader to ScottBarry Kaufman and CarolynGregoire, Wired to Create:UnravelingtheMysteriesof theCreative Mind (New York:PerigeeBooks,2015).

predict different outcomes:Park et al., “TripartiteTaxonomy.”

“nothing was coming out”:“Advice on Writing from theAtlantic’s Ta-Nehisi Coates,”Atlantic video, September 27,2013,http://www.theatlantic.com/video/archive/2013/09/advice-

on-writing-from-i-the-atlantic-i-s-ta-nehisi-coates/280025.

“writing is failure”: “JournalistTa-Nehisi Coates, 2015MacArthurFellow,”MacArthurFoundation video, postedSeptember 28, 2015,https://www.macfound.org/fellows/931

INDEX

A note about the index: Thepagesreferencedinthisindexreferto the page numbers in the printedition.Clickingonapagenumberwilltakeyoutotheebooklocationthat corresponds to the beginningof that page in the print edition.For a comprehensive list oflocations of any word or phrase,use your reading system’s searchfunction.

AcademyAwards,44Acceptanceandcommitmenttherapy(ACT),310n

Ageandgrit,84–89AirborneRangers,248,260Alex’sLemonadeStandFoundation,143

Allen,Woody,49Amazon.com,95,111America’sGotTalent(televisionprogram),31

Anderson,Chris,134Angelou,Maya,140Animalexperiments.SeeDogs,experimentson;Rats,experimentson

Anxiety,174Apatow,Judd,127–28Aristotle,146,271–72ArmySpecialOperationsForces.SeeGreenBerets

ArmyTen-Miler,249–50Asemani,Kayvon,190–91Attributionretrainingprogram,179Attritionmodel,259Authoritarianparenting,200,203,211,212,213

Authoritativeparenting.SeeWise(authoritative)parenting

Autonomouslymotivatedgoals,297n

Bacon,Francis,76Baime,Michael,155–57Baldwin,James,183Basketball,84BeastBarracks,4–7,9–10,12

characteristicsofsuccessfulcadets,5–7

diminishedattritionratein,259typicaldayat,4

Beck,Aaron,173,175–76BeepTest,255–56Berg,Justin,166BetweentheWorldandMe(Coates),275

Bezos,Jeff,95,96,99,104,110–11,263

BillandMelindaGatesFoundation,218,230–31

Blaine,David,124Blake,Juliet,133–34Bloom,Benjamin,107,108,144,211,215–16

Bodrova,Elena,141–42Bonaparte,Napoleon,76Boredom,104,111–12Bozeman,Sylvia,194BreakthroughGreaterBoston,158Bricklayers,parableofthe,149–50,152,153

BrighamYoungUniversity(BYU),202,206,215

Brodsky,Joseph,257

Brooks,David,274BrowningSchool,253Buffett,Warren,66–68BugleNotes,258Bugnard,Chef,101Bundick,Matt,160Bunsen,ChristianK.J.von,76Burke,Edmund,76Bush,GeorgeH.W.,49

Calling,149–57developingvs.finding,153takingtimetoidentify,155–57unconventionalpathsto,161–62

CambridgeUniversity,31

Canada,Geoffrey,237–38CarnegieMellonUniversity,31,33Carroll,Pete,74

lifephilosophyof,61–62,64Seahawkcultureand,243–44,251,261–68

Caslen,Robert,258–61Cervantes,Miguelde,75Chalmers,Thomas,76Chambliss,Dan,36–38,39,81,245–47

Character,273–74Chast,Roz,69Chatman,Jennifer,183Chatterton,Thomas,76ChicagoPublicSchools,11

Child,Julia,57,99–101Child-centeredapproachtoparenting,201,211

ChildGenius(televisionprogram),31

Christensen,Ulrik,122–23Chua,Amy,106CiderHouseRules,The(film),44Cinnabonbakerychain,163,164Clarkson,Kelly,187Clinton,Bill,35–36Clinton,Hillary,35–36Close,Kerry,125–26,137Coady,Chantal,96Coates,Ta-Nehisi,275–76Cobden,Richard,76

Cognitivebehavioraltherapy,176,193,310n

Cohen,Geoff,218–19Cole,Kat,163–65Coleman,Cody,220–22Coleridge,SamuelTaylor,76Collegeeducation,11,230–32ColumbiaUniversity,226,257Communication,253,256Communitycolleges,11Compassmetaphor,60,63,67,90Competition,262–63,265–66CompetitionWednesdays,262Copernicus,Nicolaus,75Corresponsiveprinciple,233–34,246

Cost-benefitanalysis,248,250Côté,Jean,107–8Cox,Catharine,74–78Crosswordpuzzledesign,95,108–10,111–12,115

Csikszentmihalyi,Mihaly,128–31Culture,243–68

categoricalallegianceto,245defined,244generationaldifferencesand,85–86,89

identityand,247–50organizational,252–58

Cuomo,Mario,49Currey,Mason,139

DailyRituals(Currey),139Damon,Bill,162–63,167Danton,GeorgesJ.,76Darling,Nancy,213Darwin,Charles,20–22DavyO’Brienaward,203DearAbby,193Deierlein,Tom,248–50,260Deliberatepractice,120–42

applyingprinciplesof,123–24author’sexperienceof,133–35effortfulnessof,127–28feedbackand,122–23,132,134

flowand,128–32,137gettingthemostfrom,137–42

asahabit,139–40positiveexperienceof,135–37,140–42

scienceof,137–39stretchgoalin,121–23

Demandingstyleofparenting,201–7,211

DenverBroncos,243Depression,173,174,176,193DeSena,Joe,319nDevelopmentalmodel,259–61Díaz,Roberto,121Dimon,Jamie,252–54,256DivineFury:AHistoryofGenius(McMahon),288–89n

Dogs,experimentson,171–73,187

Dorrance,Anson,254–58,262Dorsin,Neil,286nDropoutrates

college,11,230–32WestPoint,3–4,259

Drucker,Peter,124Duckworth,Angela

daughterAmanda,134,240,241,242,271

daughterLucy,87–88,134,223,240–41,242,271

fatherof,xiii–xv,96–97,98,107,159,167,277

GritScalescoresof,57

HardThingRuleand,241–42IQtestscoresof,34longitudinalstudyconductedby,230–32

MacArthurFellowshipawardedto,xiii–xiv

atMcKinsey,15,18,27–29motherof,167neurobiologyclassof,169–71neurosciencedegreeof,15psychologyofachievementtheoryof,40–42

purposeexperiencedby,157–59

teachingcareerof,15–20,117,157–59,177–78

TEDtalkof,133–35,220,244DuPont,86,97,245Durant,Kevin,121–22Dutton,Jane,166Dweck,Carol,178–81,183,184,192

Dyslexia,15,45

“Earlyyears,”107–8,144EDGE(EnhancingDiversityinGraduateEducation)Program,194

Education.SeealsoTeacherscollege,11,230–32dropoutratesin,11,230–32graduate-level,11,194

KIPPprogramand,181–83,245

talentvs.gritinacademicsuccess,15–20

EducationalTestingService(ETS),227

Effort,34,35–51academicsuccessand,17–18ambivalencetoward,23–25consistencyof,50deliberatepracticeand,127–28KIPPand,181musicalabilityand,23–24Nietzscheon,38–40swimmingand,36–39

talentandskillinteractionwith,42–44,50–51

TreadmillTestof,46–50,256writingand,44–46

Eisenberger,Robert,238–40Emulation(ofparents),214–16Encouragementandsupport

askingfor,193–95ofinterests,105–6,107,109–11

fromparents,207–10,211“EnergiesofMen,The”(James),22–23

Enigmatology,110Enron,30–31Entrepreneurship,24

Environmentalinfluences/experience,79–83,296n

Ericsson,Anders,118–21,124–31,135,138

Eskreis-Winkler,Lauren,138Eudaimonichappiness,146–47Eulogyvirtues,274Excessofgrit(lackofevidencefor),271–73

Experience.SeeEnvironmentalinfluences/experience

Extracurricularactivities,223–42benefittransfersfrom,238–40excessive,rarityof,225

follow-throughimportance,226–36

long-termbenefitsof,225low-incomechildrenand,236–38

Fame(film),71Faraday,Michael,75Farhi,Nicole,96Feedback,122–23,132,134,218–19

Feinberg,Mike,181Ferguson,Ron,218Field,Colin,96FinancialTimes,96

Finland,250–52,253Fitzsimmons,Bill,234–36Fixedmindset,180,181,183,184,185–86,190,191–92

“FleetingInterestinEverything,NoCareerDirection”(Redditpost),101

Flow,128–32,137Flynn,Jim,83–84,263Flynneffect,83–84,85,296–97nFonte,Aurora,161–62Fonte,Franco,161–62Football.SeeCarroll,Pete;SeattleSeahawks;Young,Steve

Fortunemagazine,27,30Fortune1000companies,183–84

Fragileperfects,190Franklin,Benjamin,123–24Freud,Sigmund,147

Gaines,Rowdy,38,100,103,107,121,132–33

Galloni,Antonio,145–46Galluppolls,98Galton,Francis,20–21,286–87nGardner,Margo,226Gates,Bill,230Gates,Melinda,230GatesFoundation.SeeBillandMelindaGatesFoundation

Gawande,Atul,124Gemmell,Bruce,136–37,141

Genetics,79–83,296nGenius,xiii–xiv,277,288–89nGervais,Mike,265–66Gettleman,Jeffrey,58–60,61,70,86

Gladwell,Malcolm,30Goalhierarchies,62–74,294n

abandoninglow-levelgoals,68–74

coherentgoalstructuresin,64–66

commonpurposeofgoalsin,68

conflictofgoalsin,65–66levelsofgoalsin,62–63prioritizinggoalsin,66–68

Goethe,JohannWolfgangvon,76Golden,Jane,112–13,145Goodness,273Google,166–67Graduate-leveleducation,11,194Graham,Martha,119,127,135GrammyAwards,46Grant,Adam,166,272Greatness,38,39–40,273GreenBerets,11–12,70GritGrid,231–32,235,237GritScale,9–14,54–58,77,78,131,194,272–73ageandscoreson,84–86developmentof,9–10fakeabilityof,229

happinesscorrelatedwithscoreson,270

oninterestconsistency,113purposecorrelatedwithscoreson,147–48

spellerstestedon,125takingandscoring,55–56TarHeelstestedon,255teacherstestedon,177twinstestedon,82WestPointcadetstestedon,9–10,54,259

Growthmindset,180–86,190,192,251benefitsassociatedwith,181languageimportancein,182

qualitiesassociatedwith,180rolemodeling,182–84

Habitformation,139–40HallofFame,63,226Happiness

eudaimonicvs.hedonic,146–47

gritcorrelatedwith,177,270–71

HardThingRule,241–42HarlemChildren’sZone,237–38HarvardUniversity,25,46–47,48,49,86,234,237,256

Haydn,Joseph,76

Hazing,258–59Hedonichappiness,146–47Height,nature-nurtureinteractionin,79–80,82–83

Hershey,Milton,190,312nHitler,Adolf,148Hoff,Syd,71Hootersrestaurant,163–64Hope,91–92,169–95,269

controland,188–90defined,169languageof,182mindsetand(seeFixedmindset;Growthmindset)

neurobiologyof,189optimismand(seeOptimism)

Hopkins,Mike,104–5“HowtoSolvetheNewYorkTimesCrosswordPuzzle”(Shortz),115

HowtoSpellLikeaChamp(Kimble),125

HowWeDoBusiness(JPMorganChasemanual),254

Hughes,Rhonda,193–95Humangenome,82

Identityandculture,247–50IlViaggioDiVetri(Vetri),106Imitation(ofparents),214–16IndianaUniversity,95,109–10In-groups,245

Intellectualdimensionofcharacter,273,274

Interest,95–116,269beginnersand,106–8,114benefitsoffollowing,97–98consistencyof,111–14constraintsonchoicesand,96–97,98

deepeningof,103,113–14,116,153

developmentof,103,104–6,107,115–16,153

discoveryof,103–4,107,114–15

expertsand,113–14exploring,100–101

playand,106–8inthree-phaseprogressionmodel,143

Interpersonaldimensionofcharacter,273,274

Intrapersonaldimensionofcharacter,273–74

IQ/intelligence,32,33author’sscoresontest,34ofhighachievers,75–76increasein,83–84,192,297nmindsetson,180ofspellingbeeparticipants,13,14

updatingbeliefson,192–93Irving,John,44–46,87

IvyLeagueundergraduates,14

James,William,22–23,98,116,140

JamesBeardAward,100Japan,118Jobcrafting,166–67JPMorganChase,252–54Julia&Julia(film),99JulliardSchoolofMusic,25,138Jürgen(mentor),217

Kagan,Jerry,5Kageyama,Noa,138Kaizen,118Kashyap,Anurag,14

Kaufman,ScottBarry,31–34Kimble,Paige,13,125King,Philip,157–58KIPP(KnowledgeIsPowerProgram),181–83,245

Kopp,Wendy,176–78

Lacey,Hester,95–96,104,118,175

LaGuardiaHighSchoolofMusicandArt,70–71

Lahti,Emilia,251–52LakesideSchool,88Lamennais,Hughes-Félicité-Robertde,76

LangLang,96

Language,importanceof,182,256,265

“Lateryears,”108,144Laughlin,Terry,140–41Leach,Bernard,105Leader,Joe,153Learnedhelplessness,171–73,188,193,240,309n

Learnedindustriousness,240Learnedoptimism,173LearningtoCartoon(Hoff),71Ledecky,Katie,133,136–37Leong,Deborah,141–42Levin,Dave,181,183Lifephilosophy,61–62,64Lomax,Michael,289–90n

Longitudinalstudiesonextracurricularactivities,225,226–29,230–32

oninterests,103–4,107onparentingimpact,213onpersonalitychange,86,233–34

LowellHighSchool,18–20Loyd,Sam,109Luong,David,18–20Luther,Martin,76Lütke,Tobi,217–18Lynch,Marshawn(“BeastMode”),264

MacArthurFellowship,xiii–xiv,275

MacKenzie,Warren,42–44,105Mackie,Susan,184Maier,Steve,171–73,178,188–90,200n,240

Mankoff,Bob,69,86March,James,248Martinez,Alex,207–10Martinez,Francesca,201,207–10,211,215

Martinez,Raoul,208Martinez,Tina,207–10Mathematics,16–20,117,193–95Matthews,Mike,6–7,9Maturityprinciple,86–89

Mazzini,Giuseppe,76McDonald,Duff,30McKinsey,58

author’scareerwith,15,18,27–29

talentemphasizedby,26–30McMahon,Darrin,288–89nMcNabb,Bill,185–87Meaney,Michael,296nMegasuccessfulpeople,96,104,118

Mentors,107,116,194,217MetLifeinsuranceagents,174–75Microsoft,230“Middleyears,”108,144Mill,JohnStuart,75

Milton,John,76MiltonHersheySchool,190,312nMindfulness,155–57Mindsets.SeeFixedmindset;Growthmindset

Mistakes,respondingto,141–42,183

MIT,220,221–22Montana,Joe,203MostValuablePlayeraward,202“MundanityofExcellence,The”(study),36

MuralArtsProgram,112,113Murat,Joachim,76Music,23–24,26,32–33Myelin,193

NASA,104–5“NastyNick”(obstaclecourse),12NationalBookAward,44Naturals,23–25,31,36,37,51Nature,192Neglectfulparenting,212NewEnglandPatriots,61,264Newton,Isaac,75,76NewYorkercartoons,68,69,71–74

NewYorkTimes,58,60,70,251NewYorkTimescrosswordpuzzle.SeeCrosswordpuzzledesign

NewZealand,233Nietzsche,Friedrich,38–40,187,199–200

Noe,Bernie,88–89Novelty,112,114,116NYCTransit,153

Oates,JoyceCarol,140Observer,207Oettingen,Gabriele,65Olympicsathletes,38,100,114

optimismand,175practiceand,118,121,132,133,138,140

Optimism,173–75,190,193growthmindsetand,181,192learned,173inteachers,176–78

Oscar,Daniel,286n

Outliers,20–21OutwardBound,187OxfordUniversity,15,58,59,60

Palin,Michael,96Parenting,199–222

authoritarian,200,203,211,212,213

child-centered,201,211contiuumofviewson,199–201

demandingstyle,201–7,211emulationbychildrenand,214–16

encouraging/supportive,207–10,211

neglectful,212bynon-parents,216–22patternsofsuccessful,210–13permissive,209,212,213wise(authoritative),211–16

Park,Daeun,183Parker,James,12Passion,8,56–60,61,64,68,261–62ageand,86consistencyofovertime,57–60

fostering,99–101geneticsandexperiencein,82GritScalemeasuresof,9,56–57,82

highachieverindicatorsof,77identityand,248,250intensitynotcorrelatedwith,57,60

interestand,91,95–101,103,116,143

practicalityvs.,96–97purposeand,91,143

Paunesku,Dave,166PeabodyConservatory,25Peanuts(comicstrip),140Permissiveparenting,209,212,213

Perseverance,56–57,91,261–62ageand,86flexibilityand,69–74

geneticsandexperiencein,82GritScalemeasuresof,9,57,82

highachieverindicatorsof,77identityand,248,250

Persistenceofmotive,77Personality

corresponsiveprincipleand,233–34,246

maturityprincipleand,86–89PersonalQualitiesProject,226–29,234–35

Pessimism,174–75,177,178,191–92

Phelps,Michael,37,38Pitt,William,76

Positivefantasizing,65PositivePsychology,40Post-itnoteexperiment,219Potential,14,22–23,51,236Potter’sBook,A(Leach),105Practice,91,117–42

deliberate(seeDeliberatepractice)

quantityoftimeand,118–20spelling,13,117,124–27,135–36,140

swimming,37,132–33inthree-phaseprogressionmodel,144

Prefrontalcortex,189PrincetonUniversity,95

PsychologicalCareofInfantandChild(Watson),200

PulitzerPrize,58Purpose,91,143–67,269

author’sexperiencewith,157–59

cultivatingasenseof,165–67defined,143happinessand,146–47originsof,162other-oriented,144–49,159–61,164–65

self-oriented,159–61inthree-phaseprogressionmodel,144

unpredictableroadsto,161–62

Putnam,Robert,236–37

Rasmussen,Mads,133,138Rats,experimentson,188–89,238–39,296n

Reddit,101,103Resiliencetraining,193,313nRésumévirtues,274ReverseFlynneffect,85Roberts,Brent,233Rolemodels

ofgrowthmindset,182–84parentsas,214–16ofpurpose,162–65,167

Roosevelt,Teddy,254Rushdie,Salman,96

Sales,10–11SanFrancisco49ers,202,203,243SAT,3,6,14,28,33,44,227,229,230,232,235

Schmidt,Roy,151–52Schneider,John,243Schofield,John,258Schofield’sDefinitionofDiscipline,258

Schultz,Charles,140Schwartz,Barry,102,272Science,22Scott,Alex,143,145ScrippsNationalSpellingBee,12–14,91,131,270

performance-improvingactivitiesfor,125

practicefor,13,117,124–27,135–36,140

verbalIQofparticipants,13,14

SeattleSeahawks,61,243–44,245,251,252,261–68competitionin,262–63,265–66

finishingstrongand,266languageof,265

Seaver,Tom,63–64,65Secretaries,152“SeeWhat’sPossible,andHelpOthersDotheSame”(Cole),165

Self-control,273,322nSelf-fulfillingprophecies,26,170Self-talk,175–76,193,310nSeligman,Marty,171–75,178,184

asauthor’sadvisor,40–41learnedhelplessnessexperimentsof,171–73,188,240

optimisticteachersstudiedby,176–77

Seurat,Georges,73Shaw,GeorgeBernard,257–58Sheldon,Ken,297nShopify,218Shortz,Will,95,96,99,108–10,111–12,115

Silvia,Paul,113–14Sisu,250–52,253“Sisu:AWordThatExplainsFinland”(Timesarticle),251

Skilldevelopment,42–44,50–51learningcurvefor,119threestagesof,107

Skilling,Jeff,30–31SmartestGuysintheRoom,The(documentary),30

Smith,Chantel,221,222Smith,Will,46,47,51Socialmultipliereffect,84,263SocietyforResearchonAdolescence,212

SpartanRace,319n

SpecialForcesSelectionCourse,12

Spectatormagazine,123Spellbound(documentary),12–14Spellingbees.SeeScrippsNationalSpellingBee

Spitz,Mark,38,39SportsIllustrated,268Stalin,Joseph,148StanfordUniversity,162,215,222,248

Steinberg,Larry,212–13Stretchgoal,121–23Strivers,24,26,31,36,50–51Summerbridgeprogram,157–59,167

SuperBowl,202,243,263–64SwarthmoreCollege,20,102Swimming

cultureof,245–47effortand,36–39geneticsandexperiencein,81optimismand,175practiceand,37,132–33

Talent,15–34,35–44,255academicsuccessand,15–20differencesin,31downsideofoveremphasizing,31,35,269

earlyliteratureon,20–23

effortinteractionwith,42–44,51

atEnron,30–31geneticsandexperiencein,80–81

inIvyLeagueundergraduates,14

KIPPviewof,181McKinsey’semphasison,26–30

musicalabilityand,23–24mythologizing,39Nietzscheon,39,40skillseparatedfrom,51spellingand,14swimmingand,36–39

testsfor,imperfectionof,34updatingbeliefson,192–93inWestPointcadets,9–10

TarHeels,UNC,254–58Teachers.SeealsoEducation

author’scareeras,15–20,117,157–59,177–78

impactoffeedbackfrom,218–19

optimismin,176–78TeachForAmerica(TFA),176–78,181

TEDtalks,124,133–35,220,238,244

Television,84,210Templeton,John,114

Ten-thousand-hour/ten-year-rule,119–20

Terkel,Studs,151TFA.SeeTeachForAmericaThomas,Earl,263Timemagazine,251,276Toughlove,211TreadmillTest,46–50,256Trojans,USC,262Tsay,Chia-Jung,23–26Twinstudies,81–82

UCLA,20Ultimateconcern,63,66,68,272UnitedKingdom,82

UnitedStatesMilitaryAcademyatWestPoint,3–7,90–91,270.SeealsoBeastBarracksadmissionsprocessfor,3cultureof,245,258–61dropoutratein,3–4,259GritScaleadministeredat,9–10,54,259

hazingat,258–59WholeCandidateScoreand,6,9,10

UniversityCollegeLondon,25UniversityofCalifornia,Berkeley,233

UniversityofHouston,238

UniversityofNorthCarolinaatChapelHill(UNC),254–58

UniversityofPennsylvania,155,190,191,237

UniversityofSouthernCalifornia(USC),262

Vaillant,George,47–48,49,86Values.SeeCorevaluesVanguard,185Vetri,Marc,100,103,105–6Voltaire,76

WarforTalent,The(Michaels,Hanfield-Jones,andAxelrod),26–27,29–30

“WarforTalent,The”(report),26Washington,George,76Watson,John,200,211,212Watson,Nora,151–52Watts,Alan,155WechslerAdultIntelligenceScale,83

WechslerIntelligenceScaleforChildren,83

West,Kanye,187WestPoint.SeeUnitedStatesMilitaryAcademyatWestPoint

WhartonSchoolofBusiness,53,86,159,191

Whatthe****IsNormal?!(Martinez),201

WholeCandidateScore(WestPoint),6,9,10

“Why?”questions,63,89Willingham,Dan,317nWillingham,Warren,226–30,231,234–35,317n

Wilson,Russell,264WinForever(Carroll),261–62WinterWar,250–51Wise(authoritative)parenting,211–16

Wooden,John,61,264Work

asacalling(seeCalling)careerchangesand,112corevaluesin,166–67

disengagementin,98lackofdirectionin,101–3passionfor,97–99,103

WorldAccordingtoGarp,The(Irving),44

Writing,44–46Wrzesniewski,Amy,149–50,152–53,155,166–67

XFactor,The(televisionprogram),31

YaleUniversity,31,149Yeager,David,160,166,218–19Young,LeGrande(“Grit”),202,203,204–7

Young,Mike,204Young,Sherry,204–6Young,Steve,201–7,210,211,215,226

Zookeepers,150

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Names:Duckworth,Angela.Title:Grit:thepowerofpassionandperseverance/AngelaDuckworth.Description:NewYork:Scribner,2016.|Includesbibliographicalreferencesandindex.Identifiers:LCCN2015042880(print)|LCCN2015044753(ebook)Subjects:LCSH:Success|Perseverance(Ethics)|Expectation(Psychology)|Diligence.|BISAC:

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ISBN978-1-5011-1110-5ISBN978-1-5011-1112-9(ebook)