Growing roses in concrete

Can people build on skills that are not immediately apparent? Wharton School professor Adam Grant weighs in on the nature vs nurture debate in his book, providing some definitive answers

Hidden Potential: The Science of Achieving Greater Things

Author: Adam Grant

Publisher: WH Allen

Pages: 304

Price: Rs 543

Maurice Ashley, a chess master in his mid-20s whose family had emigrated recently from Jamaica to the United States, was on a mission to shatter the stereotype that darker-skinned kids lacked intelligence. Ashley’s personal struggles had convinced him that the underachievement of these youths stemmed more from an absence of opportunities rather than from a lack of talent.

Ashley began to teach chess at JHS 43, a public middle school in Harlem. Most of his students belonged to poor, often single-parent families, who lived in neighbourhoods plagued by drugs, violence, and crime. But Ashley saw potential where others only saw hopelessness.

At the 1991 National Junior High Chess Championship, the Raging Rooks (as Ashley’s wards christened themselves) faced off against teams from prestigious private schools. The defending champion was Dalton of New York City, which had won three national titles. At this elite school, chess was taught right from kindergarten. The most talented students received lessons from one of the country’s finest chess teachers. By the time of the championship, they had a decade of training and years of tournament experience under their belts. The Raging Rooks had only been introduced to chess in the sixth grade.

The Raging Rooks started strong but faltered in the penultimate round.

In the final round, however, they got their act together. Two of their players scored big checkmates. Then their captain, after a prolonged battle, beat Dalton’s top player, allowing them to tie for first place. This rise from novices to national champions in just two years demonstrated the potential that was waiting to be tapped in these kids  from Harlem.

Adam Grant, a Wharton School professor and an organisational psychologist, tackles this very theme in his latest book—how hidden potential can be recognised and unlocked. 

Popular belief has it that greatness is mostly born, not made. Our society is obsessed with innate talent, making the facile assumption that the people who show the most promise early on are the ones who will go the farthest.

Mr Grant believes this obsession with natural talent causes us to miss out on vast reservoirs of potential. For every Mozart, a child prodigy, there is a Bach, a late bloomer.

He asserts that most people who go far are rarely freaks of nature; they are usually freaks of nurture. One cannot tell where people will land based on where they begin. With the right opportunity and motivation, people can build on skills that are not immediately apparent.

Neglecting the impact of nurture, according to him, has dire consequences. It leads us to underestimate the range of talents we can cultivate. It also turns us into people who prematurely shut the door on others.

The author’s interest in the subject arose out of his own experiences. He says his most meaningful accomplishments have come in areas — diving and public speaking — where he started with a glaring talent deficit. If, he says, he had judged his potential by his initial failures, he would have given up far too early.

The book is divided into three sections. In the first, the author explores the character skills that must be cultivated to scale great heights. He lists four: Being proactive, prosocial (the ability to collaborate), disciplined and determined.

In the second, the author tackles the issue of sustaining motivation by converting practice into play.

The third section is about installing systems that create opportunity. Currently, society closes the doors first on those who face the greatest obstacles. In this part, the author delves into how schools, teams, and institutions should be designed to nurture potential. He also points out flaws in selection processes that need to be fixed.

The book combines rigorous research with inspirational case studies. Two in particular merit mention. One is of a call centre in Israel staffed entirely by people with disabilities. The other covers the journey of an engineer from an impoverished family of migrant farm workers who became a Nasa astronaut after applying and being rejected for 15 years.

A story from India (that doesn’t find a place in this book but could well have) is of the Dakshana Foundation funded by US-based money manager Mohnish Pabrai. The foundation admits bright students from economically underprivileged families and prepares them for engineering and medical entrance exams, with high success rates — truly a story of growing roses in concrete.

In today’s intensely competitive world, with everyone jostling to get ahead, where time, energy and attention are in short supply, the propensity to arrive at snap judgements about others has become alarmingly high. This book sensitises one to the need to offer people a second chance. It calls for a more empathetic and nurturing approach to leadership rather than the slash-and-burn style that is lamentably all too common today.