The New York Review of Ideas » Reviews | June 2009
Recipe for Success
The Talent Code, by Daniel Coyle.
By Renee Dittrich
One part self-help, one part serious science and one part bedside psychologist, The Talent Code: Greatness Isn’t Born. It’s Grown. Here’s How by author and Outside contributing editor Daniel Coyle (Lance Armstrong’s War, Hardball: A Season in the Projects) looks at the development of exceptional talent. Throughout history, “talent hotbeds” have sprung up producing what we call genius and talent. In this book, Coyle discusses how to operate at the “edge of your ability” in order to uncoil your own “talent code.”
Coyle takes readers on a whirlwind, Indiana Jones-style adventure through history and science to challenge their preconceptions about learning and so-called genius talent. He boldly explores an area that few others have—the neurophysiology of learning. There, he explains the connection between myelin, a substance your brain creates only when in a state of action and perfected “deep practice.” It’s in deep practice that you actually make the most mistakes, but correct them quickly and learn from them even more quickly.
Along Coyle’s tour de talent, he interviews renowned Olympic coaches, top educators, cutting edge researchers and bona fide geniuses to prove that in almost all cases, nurture outbids nature. Why would our genetics waste energy creating a genius blacksmith in today’s world, or a math genius during the Dark Ages? poses Coyle. They didn’t, and they won’t. Talent, even perceived genius, of every kind is the act of nurturing a myelin-coated mind. Even so-called child protégés like Mozart and the Bronte sisters had close to a decade of practice by the time they were famous. Practice is talent.
Coyle doesn’t bother to address oft-misinterpreted ideas about genetic predisposition or natural selection, which I was glad to see. Disregarding ideas that have spawned racism the world over may appear to be a smart move, but it comes at the cost of ignoring whether genetics have any significant impact on talent and myelin production. Perhaps that’s a whole other book.
“Thrashing blindly doesn’t help. Reaching does,” says Coyle. He breaks the concept of myelin making into three sort of do-able steps: deep practice, emotional motivation, and finding or becoming a great teacher a.k.a a “talent whisperer.” Citing examples including Brazilian soccer players and their coaches, the Albert Einstein, Ray LaMontagne, Aristotle and the Florentine art renaissance, he plucks out the most easily repeatable and applicable learning and teaching techniques. Coyle is heavy-handed with his research but not with his language. He uses everyday examples to explain complex systems.
By merely understanding the structures of the uber-talented’s brain, you can start to think, and even nurture yourself, in a different way. It’s no shortcut to success or building skill, though. Expert talent takes time—about 10,000 hours of it. But knowing that there is a formula ought to excite scientists and average Joes alike.
There’s even an exact language of talent. Praise, the way a parent or teacher gives it away, isn’t the best motivator, it turns out. What works best is “speaking to ground-level effort, affirming the struggle,” says Coyle. In fact, praise can send the message to look smart and hide your mistakes rather than to try harder and learn how to do better.
The Talent Code is an insightful read for anyone who’s desperately wanted to thrash that do-gooder coach/teacher/parent who insisted that “practice makes perfect.” At last, an eloquent adult who not only claims that they were essentially right, but also manages to do it in a way that’s both entertaining and forward-thinking. This is a must-read for 2009. ♦