The 10,000 Hour Rule Isn't Useless - It's Vague
The staggering power of AWE while stumbling on Mastery
On Christmas Day 2022, I positioned a bird feeder in our South Florida backyard. There were two birds I wanted to see up close - cardinals and painted buntings. The painted bunting showed up yesterday! Below is one of hundreds of photos I have taken of a male cardinal who lives nearby with his mate.
Both of these magnificent birds are AWE-inspiring. AWE is a precious feeling and one that I suggest you actively seek. AWE is good for the soul. It’s also helpful when thinking about mastery.
Side note: Have you noticed that I always capitalize AWE? It’s because it’s that important in my life and will hopefully be in yours if it isn’t already.
Malcolm Gladwell popularized the idea of the 10,000-hour rule. It suggests that the path to mastery requires somewhere in the vicinity of 10,000 hours of practice. (Anders Ericsson is the original source of the idea.)
Two problems with the 10,000-hour rule
Problem #1 - No two disciplines or pursuits are identical, so making 10,000 hours the height of the mastery hurdle doesn’t make sense.
Doesn’t it make more sense to you that sometimes it takes less time to attain mastery and sometimes more?
Beware of people who try to sell you all-or-nothing arguments. They frequently leave out the middle ground. The 10,000-hour rule isn’t garbage - it’s just too vague to be useful. Most things can be looked at on a continuum, including mastery.
Problem #2 - Who or what determines who is a master and who isn’t?
Case Study: Tyler Kalbac, MD
Tyler is a former student of mine who is just now completing his fourth year of residency to become an orthopedic surgeon specializing in leg and foot injuries. I guarantee he has gone way beyond 10,000 hours honing his craft. Is he a master? He’s undoubtedly good at what he does, but I bet he could care less if he was a master.
Case Study: Juggling
I spent two months learning to juggle three balls reasonably well. Was I a master? How many balls would I have had to juggle to become one? Would I have to juggle bowling pins or sharp knives?
It’s ludicrous to ask those questions.
As far as I know, there isn’t a professional licensing board that decides whether you are a master juggler or not, and that’s a good thing.
When I experienced myself merging into a flow state as I learned to juggle three balls for several minutes, I felt intense AWE and satisfaction. I had attained a level of mastery I cared about. (More about AWE in a minute.) Mastery comes in different degrees, like belts in martial arts.
Mastery comes in different degrees, like belts in martial arts.
Who and what defines mastery? Who makes the rules?
The issue of who determines mastery is linked to the wacko decision-making that goes into placing children into honors, regular, or remedial classes. That process creates artificial limits on each child’s experience of mastery.
You’re a “regular kid,” so here are the limits on what we will teach you and what you can master. That’s gut-wrenching stuff for a child and his or her parents to swallow.
These placement benchmarks are likely the ones you experienced as a student and are often arbitrary and subjective. They also happen to be heartlessly and needlessly destructive.
There isn’t a subject you can name that isn’t accessible to every human being.
A struggling math student once told me, “Math belongs to everyone, and everyone, including me, has a right to learn it.” She graduated from Georgia Tech with an engineering degree. She’s AWEsome and, in my opinion, mastered mathematics.
Sometimes, as in orthopedic surgery, what defines mastery is reasonably clear. But even in that field, there is likely to be debate about who is a master surgeon and who is not.
Same thing with becoming a military pilot. When I was designated as an aircraft commander (AC) in the Navy after five years of work, some might have said, “He’s mastered that aircraft.” Well, no, I hadn’t. I was safe and competent, but nobody sat in awe or amazement at my talents. I’m totally okay with that.
I did have to take a lengthy battery of tests and complete a three-day mission with an experienced aviator before earning my AC qualification. However, the evaluation criteria on some of those tests were also subjective (the stuff on flight rules, navigation, and engineering were not). I was not a master in my book.
AWE - A better criterion for measuring mastery
One legitimate master pilot I flew with on multiple missions, Captain Terry Kupovits, inspired AWE in me. He did things with an aircraft I didn’t know were humanly possible. Tragically, Terry died from cancer during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Sitting in that cockpit beside Terry, I didn’t need anyone to tell me he was a master. I was in AWE of him.
Using the AWE criteria, Terry was not only a master but also a Jedi Master. I bowed down respectfully and admiringly before him. I loved him dearly.
Stoicism and Mastery
I have been studying the philosophy of Stoicism for several years. I admire several authors for the depth and breadth of their knowledge of Stoicism (Ryan Holiday, Massimo Pigliucci), but are they masters?
Probably not, and I don’t think either of those gentlemen would contest that.
On the other hand, Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus did attain mastery. Whenever I read or reread one of their books, I walk away in a state of AWE and gratitude. And I’m definitely not alone in that.
Those men distilled wisdom to its core with greater finesse and eloquence than most living writers.
Side note: For an AWE-inspiring story of one man’s reliance on Stoicism for survival, read James Stockdale’s Courage Under Fire (it’s only $5 - not an affiliate link).
How can you spot mastery when you see it?
If you buy into the idea that mastery is at least partially subjective, what can you rely upon to decide whether you or someone else has attained it?
You read someone’s books, listen to their recitals, watch their theatrical performance, or gaze at their art. You engage the person on a deeply human level.
Did you weep tears of joy?
Did you broaden your understanding?
Were your beliefs and prejudices challenged?
Did you experience AWE?
If you experience AWE and the person beside you doesn’t, did you actually experience it? Crazy question, right?
When does someone cross the boundary between pretty good and mastery? Again, that’s pretty subjective, isn’t it?
Teaching and the experience of AWE
It took me at least ten years to feel like I was beginning to master teaching. How did I know I was becoming masterful?
I could see it in the eyes of my students.
I could hear it in the quality of the questions they were asking.
And I could feel the deep emotional connections that we were forming with each other.
Master teacher. It was not a title I was ever awarded or needed.
What I did need was the verification provided by AWE.
Watching my students unravel complex problems in mathematics that intrigued them ignited AWE within me. It pinged in my chest like a sonar wave.
AWE pinged in my chest like a sonar wave.
Trusting AWE
I trust AWE more than I do the 10,000-hour rule or other people’s opinions when determining whether I or someone else is a master of anything.
Mastery tends to be largely confined to discussions about creative endeavors.
Master painters.
Master dancers.
Master carpenters.
Master ceramicists.
Master violinists.
You don’t generally hear about…
Master auto mechanics
Master bakers
Master grocery clerks
Master UPS drivers
Master baristas
…and that’s a shame.
All forms of work are dignified and worthy of the attainment of mastery. I once had a long conversation with a housekeeper at a hotel in St. Louis who viewed her work as a gift of kindness she could offer her guests. She was a master in every sense of the word.
Mastery is less important an idea than the experience of AWE.
As creators, we all strive to experience AWE not only for ourselves but also for the people within our respective communities. As we continue to create content in different forms and share it with the world, our opportunities for stumbling on mastery increase.
As we continue to create content in different forms and share it with the world, our opportunities for stumbling on mastery increase.
As your skills sharpen, you set the stage for entering AWE-induced adventures. You see yourself evolving into a truly remarkable creator, astonishing yourself with what you can do. That, my friend, is a delicious feeling.
Here’s to an AWEsome year ahead. I don’t wish you smooth sailing but just enough turbulence to rock your boat, stretch your comfort zone, and propel you toward your own vision of mastery.
Recommended Reading (not affiliate links)
Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life by Dacher Keltner
The Power of Awe: Overcome Burnout & Anxiety, Ease Chronic Pain, Find Clarity & Purpose by Jake Eagle and Michael Amster
The Power of Wonder: The Extraordinary Emotion That Will Change the Way You Live, Learn, and Lead by Monica Parker
Mastery by Robert Greene
Yep read the book. Questioned it then and still do. Quality of practice. Teacher of the technique. The field itself. Too many variables to even be a general truism IMO. Good deconstruction.