“Can I tell you something I hate? I hate that Malcolm Gladwell 10,000 hours theory.
For anyone who’s avoided it somehow, the way it works is that Gladwell, who we’ll get to, poses the theory that 10,000 hours of concentrated, limits-pushing practice is what separates the successful from the amateur, the pro from the bro.
First of all, no shit. If I just picked a huge, giant number, and if you worked on something that long, there’s almost no way you’re gonna be worse. 10,000 hours, that’s over a year of 24/7 practice. If you were going 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, if you did this as a full time gig, you’d practice just a hair under 5 years. Hell, go ahead and take the day off on holidays, you’re looking at 5 years.
Yeah, I would HOPE you’d be significantly better at something within that timeframe.
Now, it’s obviously a very flawed theory. Do people tend to go towards things they’re good at naturally, and therefore they only end up practicing things they are already pretty good at? To ask that a different way, would anyone be likely to stick with something they suck at for 10,000 hours? And obviously, most glaring, there are other factors at work here. Genetics. What kind of shape you’re in to begin with. Whether you’ve perhaps engaged in parallel experiences that would inform your primary goal. Let’s face it, there’s no amount of practice that will make certain people good at certain stuff. And there’s also a lot of stuff most people have done 10,000 hours and still suck at. Drive around Santa Fe. I’m sure most of the old folks down there have driven somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000 hours in a lifetime, and they’re terrible at it.
The theory is also so untestable. Who is going to pick up a basketball today, clock that 10,000, and then shove it in Malcolm Gladwell’s face? Which is why it’s the perfect theory to put in a book. It’s pretty tough to debate. Which, to me, makes it a bad theory.
Okay, it’s a bad theory, this 10,000 hours thing. But that’s not really my problem with it.
My problem with it is that I think it serves as an excuse for people to not do shit. Because, basically, it’s going to take a decade before they’re truly any good. And even that is a gamble. A big, long term gamble.
Not having 10,000 hours is a great excise to never do anything. I’m never going to get in 10,000 hours of swimming, so why bother? I’ll never be able to put in 10,000 hours of plumbing, so why even try?
Which brings us to what I like about this book.
Art Before Breakfast gives the two things you need to get started on something new. It gives you concrete tasks to perform that take less than 10 minutes apiece, and it gives you permission to suck. Not just at first, but maybe forever.
Not having time for art or artistic pursuits is an excuse. I’m sorry, but it is. If you’re not happy with your life, if your work is unfulfilling and your relationships suck, I’d give art a try. Seriously.
Because like this book says, it’s not just about putting ink on paper.
When I ran a lot, I had these experiences that were really good and really healthy that went far outside actually running. I felt really in touch with the seasons, which is a hippy stupid thing to say, but if you spend an hour+ outside every day, you really are in touch with what’s happening outside. When you go down the same roads at a speed way slower than driving, you start to notice stuff like when the creek is really high or when a field is mowed. This isn’t important shit, but there’s something healthy, to me, about paying attention that way.
This book is like the anti-Gladwell solution. It’s not about being great at drawing or watercolors or whatever. It’s about just getting started and doing it.
The author makes this great point about art that never got made being similar to art that was made and then burned. Art that was never made because someone chose not to make it, that’s art that will never benefit anyone.
Quit burning all that art and get to work, damn it.”