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The Talent Distraction
By Bryan Green
People are easily distracted. Sometimes these distractions are convenient, like when we have writer's block and the Olympics are on. Sometimes we see something irrelevant but simply can't take our eyes off it, like the annoying haircuts on the men's ice dancers. And other times we get taught to focus on something that simply doesn't matter as much as we make it seem.
When it comes to talent, many of us fall victim to this last type of distraction. We spend our time and energy wondering, evaluating, and debating how much talent an individual has. Threads like this German vs Dathan thread at LetsRun attract an inordinate amount of passionate arguments. It doesn't help that we don't have clear definitions, we use multiple words with multiple meanings, and that our attempts at measuring talent are stuck using proxies.
I think everyone intuitively understands the idea of "talent". It's natural, it's innate, it's genetic (if you're East African, etc)...you know, either you have it or you don't. But there are three other aspects of how we view talent that create problems for us. First, talent is understood to be the key defining factor that enables someone to be the best in the world. If we assume that others are working just as hard as Bekele, then the only thing that can be separating him is his talent. Let's just say that's a big assumption.
Second, we associate talent with being a purely physical quality. It's very rare that someone includes such factors as toughness, pain tolerance, discipline, passion, commitment, and coolness under pressure in a discussion about talent. Yet the ability to get up and train everyday at an elite level for years and years while staying motivated and committed is surely harder for some than it is for others.
(We also don't talk about durability in most discussions of talent. Talent takes on a meaning equivalent to: potential to run a given time. But isn't the ability to do the necessary training in the first place a factor? We don't talk about this or mental stuff because it's fluffy, it's intangible, we can't measure it. But that leads me to the third problem.)
We don't have any foolproof way of measuring talent, either mental or physical. The only real approach we have is to look at the subset of people who've achieved at an extremely high level and then label them "talented". This creates its own issues:
In the first case, it probably doesn't matter. There might be 100 other Germans and Dathans out there. I don't believe there's some Outliers-esque selection bias happening in running. We may miss out on a few, but I think we're probably identifying much of our top talent. The other three problems are more relevant, in my opinion.
Ritz and German are separated by about a decade. You would think this fact alone would stop people from comparing Ritz's 12:56 with German's 13:25 or 3:55. But a lot of people confuse talent with ability. Ability changes over time, based on your years of training. Yes, 12:56 tells us something about Ritz's talent, that at a minimum, Ritz can reach that level. And German's 13:25 and 3:55 tell us that, at a minimum, German can achieve those marks. But that's it, and that's not much.
Even if we try to compare two athletes when they were in high school, we (usually) don't have enough information to make our case. In some cases, two great runners have come from the same program and can be more or less compared. But how can we compare Ritz's experience in Michigan to German's in California (or to another favorite, Alan Webb's in Virginia, or soon, Lukas Verzbicas's in Illinois)? They weren't doing the same workload, workouts, or afterschool work.
Finally, races and PRs are not measurements of potential. They may give us some clues, but they are ultimately just indications of progress at any specific point in time. My PR today may become my lifetime PR, or it may just reflect how good I was on that day in that year. Even after an athlete retires, their PRs won't necessarily have reflected their potential. There's no way to know.
The whole discussion is a distraction. It's a distraction because there's no substance. It's irrelevant.
Psychologist Bernard Weiner identified four broad categories to which we can attribute our success (or failure). These are talent, effort, the difficulty of the task, and luck. As you can see in the diagram they can be classified by whether they are internal or external, and whether they are constant or variable.
Talent is internal and constant, it never changes. Effort is internal and variable, it can be increased or decreased at any given time. Task difficulty is external and constant, a mile is always a mile, a workout is a workout, and you don't usually get to choose who is in your race. And luck is external and variable, it changes at random.
There is one more factor that matters, however. That is what we can call "controllability". Do you have any control over the attribute and if so, in what way? Of the four, the only one we have direct control over is our effort (in blue). You can't control something that doesn't change, so talent and task difficulty are what they are. And while there are benefits to understanding your task difficulty, those are only realized through focused effort, and so should be attributed there. As for luck, with apologies to Louis Pasteur, we don't really have any control over that either.
What this means is that when we focus on talent, we are focusing on something that's internal, constant and out of our control. And not only that, it can't be measured and it's only part of the equation that results in becoming an elite athlete. So why do we focus on talent instead of effort? Why is it so easy to get caught up in the talent distraction?
First of all, talent is equated with destiny. If you are talented, and you pursue that talent to its extreme, you are living a narrative that many people naturally relate to. German and Dathan may be great at other things, but they were born to run. We like that and it turns their stories into dramas. Will they fulfill their God-given promise? Or will the story be a tragedy?
The second reason we focus on talent rather than effort is that effort is so opaque. Runners do different mileage, different workouts, in different environments, with different teammates and different coaches, in different eras, and none of them share that information in a clear, easy to understand way. Perhaps this will change someday with the advent of some new technologies and incentive structures, but probably not. How much would Bekele have to be paid to have his every workout inputted and analyzed by this mythical service?
Ultimately, as it stands, debating about an athlete's effort is just as speculative as debating their talent. Personally, though, I'd rather see us debate effort--specifically training methods, lifestyle choices and decision-making--as there is an opportunity to learn something from the debate.
I'm not sure that will ever catch on, though. I think this is one distraction many fans just aren't looking to lose.
People are easily distracted. Sometimes these distractions are convenient, like when we have writer's block and the Olympics are on. Sometimes we see something irrelevant but simply can't take our eyes off it, like the annoying haircuts on the men's ice dancers. And other times we get taught to focus on something that simply doesn't matter as much as we make it seem.When it comes to talent, many of us fall victim to this last type of distraction. We spend our time and energy wondering, evaluating, and debating how much talent an individual has. Threads like this German vs Dathan thread at LetsRun attract an inordinate amount of passionate arguments. It doesn't help that we don't have clear definitions, we use multiple words with multiple meanings, and that our attempts at measuring talent are stuck using proxies.
I think everyone intuitively understands the idea of "talent". It's natural, it's innate, it's genetic (if you're East African, etc)...you know, either you have it or you don't. But there are three other aspects of how we view talent that create problems for us. First, talent is understood to be the key defining factor that enables someone to be the best in the world. If we assume that others are working just as hard as Bekele, then the only thing that can be separating him is his talent. Let's just say that's a big assumption.
Second, we associate talent with being a purely physical quality. It's very rare that someone includes such factors as toughness, pain tolerance, discipline, passion, commitment, and coolness under pressure in a discussion about talent. Yet the ability to get up and train everyday at an elite level for years and years while staying motivated and committed is surely harder for some than it is for others.
(We also don't talk about durability in most discussions of talent. Talent takes on a meaning equivalent to: potential to run a given time. But isn't the ability to do the necessary training in the first place a factor? We don't talk about this or mental stuff because it's fluffy, it's intangible, we can't measure it. But that leads me to the third problem.)
We don't have any foolproof way of measuring talent, either mental or physical. The only real approach we have is to look at the subset of people who've achieved at an extremely high level and then label them "talented". This creates its own issues:
- we miss out on anyone who hasn't achieved enough to show up on our radars;
- we can't compare people at different stages in their careers;
- we (usually) can't compare what two athletes have done to achieve their marks;
- and the big one, we can never assume that what they have achieved is what they are capable of achieving.
In the first case, it probably doesn't matter. There might be 100 other Germans and Dathans out there. I don't believe there's some Outliers-esque selection bias happening in running. We may miss out on a few, but I think we're probably identifying much of our top talent. The other three problems are more relevant, in my opinion. Ritz and German are separated by about a decade. You would think this fact alone would stop people from comparing Ritz's 12:56 with German's 13:25 or 3:55. But a lot of people confuse talent with ability. Ability changes over time, based on your years of training. Yes, 12:56 tells us something about Ritz's talent, that at a minimum, Ritz can reach that level. And German's 13:25 and 3:55 tell us that, at a minimum, German can achieve those marks. But that's it, and that's not much.
Even if we try to compare two athletes when they were in high school, we (usually) don't have enough information to make our case. In some cases, two great runners have come from the same program and can be more or less compared. But how can we compare Ritz's experience in Michigan to German's in California (or to another favorite, Alan Webb's in Virginia, or soon, Lukas Verzbicas's in Illinois)? They weren't doing the same workload, workouts, or afterschool work.
Finally, races and PRs are not measurements of potential. They may give us some clues, but they are ultimately just indications of progress at any specific point in time. My PR today may become my lifetime PR, or it may just reflect how good I was on that day in that year. Even after an athlete retires, their PRs won't necessarily have reflected their potential. There's no way to know.
The whole discussion is a distraction. It's a distraction because there's no substance. It's irrelevant.
Psychologist Bernard Weiner identified four broad categories to which we can attribute our success (or failure). These are talent, effort, the difficulty of the task, and luck. As you can see in the diagram they can be classified by whether they are internal or external, and whether they are constant or variable.
There is one more factor that matters, however. That is what we can call "controllability". Do you have any control over the attribute and if so, in what way? Of the four, the only one we have direct control over is our effort (in blue). You can't control something that doesn't change, so talent and task difficulty are what they are. And while there are benefits to understanding your task difficulty, those are only realized through focused effort, and so should be attributed there. As for luck, with apologies to Louis Pasteur, we don't really have any control over that either.
What this means is that when we focus on talent, we are focusing on something that's internal, constant and out of our control. And not only that, it can't be measured and it's only part of the equation that results in becoming an elite athlete. So why do we focus on talent instead of effort? Why is it so easy to get caught up in the talent distraction?
First of all, talent is equated with destiny. If you are talented, and you pursue that talent to its extreme, you are living a narrative that many people naturally relate to. German and Dathan may be great at other things, but they were born to run. We like that and it turns their stories into dramas. Will they fulfill their God-given promise? Or will the story be a tragedy?
The second reason we focus on talent rather than effort is that effort is so opaque. Runners do different mileage, different workouts, in different environments, with different teammates and different coaches, in different eras, and none of them share that information in a clear, easy to understand way. Perhaps this will change someday with the advent of some new technologies and incentive structures, but probably not. How much would Bekele have to be paid to have his every workout inputted and analyzed by this mythical service?
Ultimately, as it stands, debating about an athlete's effort is just as speculative as debating their talent. Personally, though, I'd rather see us debate effort--specifically training methods, lifestyle choices and decision-making--as there is an opportunity to learn something from the debate.
I'm not sure that will ever catch on, though. I think this is one distraction many fans just aren't looking to lose.
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