Some notes on Cal Newport’s book, So Good They Can’t Ignore You.
This is one of my favourite books. It offers a well argued riposte to those who advise that, where career is concerned, we should ‘follow our passion’.
Newport argues that this is bad advice. His thesis can be summed up thus: get good at something, do the hard work necessary to make you spectacular at it. Along the way, you will develop a passion for that thing.
People often point to that famous address by Steve Jobs, in which he urged young people to follow their passions, as though career fulfillment will come from doing just that.
Newport advocates a ‘craftsman’s mindset’, to be preferred over a ‘passion mindset’. His advice: adopt the craftsman’s mindset first, put it to work on a consistent basis, and then the passion will follow.
Newport also brings up the concept of ‘career capital’ – those rare and valuable skills that earn you a reputation as a superstar in your field. He proffers that, in order to love what you do, you should build up career capital, which you can then cash in for the freedom that can lead you to your passions.
In order to create and build up career capital, one has to have a craftsman’s mindset. Passion, on its own, does not lead to skill.
Newport has no time for the concept of a ‘true calling’. He dismisses this as a myth. He also observes that obsessing over one’s true calling can actually paralyse one from taking action. His advice is to acquire career capital, and then use that to get control over the work that one does, and how one does it. Career capital will also help one to identify, and then execute, a meaningful mission.
So how does one acquire career capital?
By doing the necessary work on a consistent basis, and, crucially, by focusing on deliberate practice.
Deliberate practice calls for effort and concentration, and for continually stretching beyond one’s comfort zone.
Deliberate practice is generally uncomfortable, and has to be done enough times until it gets comfortable. And, at that point, one should stretch oneself again, further. And so on. Basically, this is the sort of thing that performing artists and sportsmen are used to doing, but (as Newport points out), this is not so common among knowledge workers. He observes that knowledge workers tend to avoid such discomfort, and he highlights their typical email checking habit as a form of escape from more mentally demanding work.
Deliberate practice should ideally be accompanied by immediate feedback. This will help point out mistakes, and prevent these from getting ingrained.
Others have written extensively on the topic of deliberate practice. I particularly like Grit, by Angela Duckworth.
Coming back to passion:
Newport brings up the idea of ‘mission’, i.e. that having a particular mission that could bring a unifying focus to one’s career.
Career capital, on its own, will not lead one to a mission. Newport encourages experimenting with various ‘proto-missions’, until one finds the best direction forward.
A mission begins from an idea.
But how does one get good ideas?
Ideas can come from almost anywhere, and Newport highlights this fascinating proposition: that the next big ideas ‘are found right beyond the current cutting edge, in the adjacent space that contains the possible new combinations of existing ideas. The reason important discoveries often happen multiple times, therefore, is that they only become possible once they enter the adjacent possible, at which point anyone surveying this space—that is, those who are the current cutting edge—will notice the same innovations waiting to happen.‘
I find that utterly fascinating.
According to this theory, breakthroughs happen at the cutting-edge – the cutting-edge of your chosen specialism. Once at this place, you can look across into the ‘adjacent possible’, and make the necessary (mental, intellectual) connections that bring the big ideas.
As with ideas, so with missions. Newport’s thesis is that, to identify your mission, you must first get to the cutting-edge in your chosen field.
Right, then, what happens once we identify a mission?
How do we make a success of it?
Newport recommends ‘small and achievable projects’, what he calls ‘little bets’. He highlights some ideas from Peter Sims’s book ‘Little Bets’. (This is another good book. I will do a review sometime in the future.)
Little bets are low-risk, and, structured properly, they can give one enough feedback to help plan further.
For a mission to succeed, Newport suggests that it should satisfy ‘the law of remarkability’. This means that the idea should inspire people ‘to remark about it’, and it should be ‘launched in a venue where such remarking is made easy’. Here, he draws parallels with Seth Godin’s ‘purple cow’ concept.
All told, this is a brilliant book. As Newport himself points out, some of what he is saying should be obvious. However, observing the world around us today, it is clear that these points are no longer obvious to many. And this book is a great reminder to get the basics right.
There is no substitute for doing the right work, and to getting the necessary skills. Passion will follow, but, for it to be meaningful, it has to be based on something concrete. To quote Newport, ‘working right trumps finding the right work’.
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