Saturday, February 12, 2011

Expert or prodigy?

amy chua and daughtersI was listening to a discussion of Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, her memoir of parenting two child prodigies, on the drive into London this morning.  The ethics of driving exceptional children to excel are central to the discussion, along with provocative ideas about levels, Asian / American stereotypes, over- vs. under parenting, and where the lines lie in treating or mistreating children.

However, I’ve been thinking more about the implied question of whether prodigies can be created in a child gifted with strong but not exceptional talent.

Ms Chua drives both her girls into severe musical training at 3 years old, although there is no way to know whether her children had prodigal talent, much less of what type.  One does, finally arrive at Carnegie Hall as an accomplished pianist at age 8 (the other, a violinist, rebelled).  She credits talent and discipline for developing her daughter’s innate prodigy.

Alternatively, Malcolm Gladwell holds that with 10,000 hours of practice, one can become a world-class expert at virtually anything.  Is that the case here, that a perhaps an ordinary girl became extraordinary through intensively accumulating the requisite hours?  Or did it take something more?

I want to make two cases.

prodigy 11)  Gladwell’s rule is more applicable to physical tasks than to intellectual ones.

Constant practice improves athletic strength, coordination. stamina, and judgment.  I think that this applies directly to musical ability as well: the nuances of fingering, rhythm, pitch, and confidence all build with repetition.  There are good neurophysiologic correlates of strengthened synapses and hypertrophied muscles that develop directly from practice.

But, in the absence of a defined physiologic center, can practice be said to strengthen the neural basis for a talent?  Repetition of sums does not hypertrophy a mathematical organ; repetitive writing does not develop synapses in some literary center of the brain.  Intellectual skills are inherently different than physical ones, they have different substrates and localization (indeed, intellectual skills seem to have no localization in the brain at all).

Prodigy 22)  Gladwell’s rule is more applicable to declarative knowledge than procedural knowledge.

Spelling and geography prodigies, naturalists who recognize birds by color or call, trivia experts, all operate with declarative knowledge: a knowledge of facts.  There is no doubt that drill strengthens memory and recall (a side note: these are also localized functions in the hippocampus), building a store of knowledge that is better organized and more quickly accessed as practice continues.

Procedural knowledge, a knowledge of skills, builds with experience rather than repetition.  One cannot become a great writer simply by writing.  There must be mentoring and learning,growth and maturity, developing the skill of communicating and the expressive touch to reach others through writing.  Again, these draw on diffused skills rather than focused ones.

I think it comes down to technical proficiency vs. true art.

A young Olympic gymnast is technically dazzling, but it results from thousands of hours of practice, not innate prodigal talent.  Anyone with the requisite physical substrate could be brought to that level.  Similarly, a quiz-show prodigy or a chess master can result from acquiring a vast store of knowledge, developed through devoted drill given a requisite level of intelligence and focused drive.

I believe that the distinguishing test is to see what happens when a new situation is encountered.  For a literary student,“Is it a great book?” can be answered by knowing whether the work is on the list, or being able to mimic a great style successfully.  For a literary prodigy, it is answered by intrinsically recognizing and producing great works regardless of the state of the canon.  A mathematical talent can solve problems at an expert level; a mathematical prodigy sees the answer intuitively, differently.

I have known many talented people, and a few that I consider genius.  The difference is not in how hard they work or how many hours they’ve spent, but in their insight, in the way that they conceptualize problems and express answers.

So, in Amy Chua’s case, I think that her talented children were brought to exceptional levels through practice and training in the physical skill and declarative knowledge of playing an instrument.  I think that others could do this (not that they should).

However, I do not think that her children are prodigal or genius, and I don’t believe that her methods would have worked to produce accomplished authors or mathematicians.  Intellectual skills and procedural knowledge build with introspection and experience, and her training would not strengthen these traits.


Jules: said...

It's my opinion that talented folks are a dime a dozen. There is nothing extraordinary in being talented (having a skill--any skill--which comes more easily than most), but there is something extraordinary in people who are able to develop that talent to the level of true mastery. There is, as you say, an art behind the skill of the genius.

That being said, I think you're off the mark in your assessment of what makes talent. It's true that procedural knowledge is based on experience and a sense of art, but you seem to imply that practice is not needed. I would argue that a sh*t-ton of practice is needed before you can begin to make sense of your experience and develop a style/art of your own. Talent/genius is what makes enduring the amount of practice worthwhile.

Dave Hampton said...

Hi, Jules, and thanks. I have been thinking about your comments and really appreciate the perspective.

I agree with your definition of talent, and like your idea of practice being able to develop talent to mastery but not to genius: "mastery" is the prefect word for that.

I am still wrestling with whether practice, in the sense of solitary memorization and physical repetition, can build proficiency in procedural skills. I agree that practice is needed, but a different kind of practice. Coaching and mentoring, having performance critiqued and corrected over and over, seems to me to be necessary for building procedural mastery.

Thus, making a child do violin drills over and over for 10,000 hours will produce technical mastery, but to get virtuoso performance, you need to study with masters of the art. The same with painting, glass-blowing, writing, scientific research, acting, programming: I think that you have to apprentice rather than just study.

And I absolutely agree that this requires dedicated hard work, just of a different type.

Dave Hampton said...

'not to hammer the point, but I was watching MasterChef auditions last night on BBC, and person after person apologized saying that they had learned their cooking skills from books and by practicing, but felt like they couldn't get good without hand's on training. I'm spending the late winter trying to learn to bake at a higher level, and have exactly that issue in learning.
It also happens when I tried to learn to tie a bow tie: pictures and videos were helpful but hopeless: I had to sit with the porter on a step and have him show me how its done.
This may not be a universal (maybe true genius's figure out procedural skills without mentoring), but I can't think of exceptions this morning.