Wednesday, March 25, 2020

The Role of Mental Energy in Intellectual Performance



In his essay in the Genius and the Mind ((1) David Lykken cites mental energy as a likely heritable characteristic of genius.  No doubt, mental energy--or mental stamina, as I describe it --drives performance.(2)  Tackling big problems requires sustained focus, long periods of heavy concentration.  History is filled with folklore of geniuses with prodigious mental energy.   Galileo, Archimedes, Franklin, Edison.  We all know the Einstein quote: "it's not that I'm smart, it's just that I stay with a problem longer."

Consider a business example.  Edwin Land, the founder of and energy behind Polaroid, was renowned for pulling overnighters. His employees tell stories about arriving in the morning to find him still at his desk, oblivious of the time, absorbed in some mental challenge.  Once Land  supposedly put in 36 hours straight struggling with a single problem.

Let’s put this in perspective.  Staying awake 36 hours is hard enough, but, sustaining mental focus is a different proposition altogether.  Most people  work 7-10 hours a day; but, even that's not all on task. We're not concentrating for 7-10 hours.  Even in knowledge-based jobs we spend much of our workday on ancillary tasks, tasks that may be necessary but don't require the same mental energy.

Personally, I can work 2 or 3 hours at a stretch on intellectual tasks.  Reading, thinking, writing, extrapolating thoughts, wrestling down problems. I love that stuff.  So perhaps I might be able to push myself to 4 hours, that is if I'm particularly motivated, intrigued, feeling energetic, and the conditions are otherwise just right.  But sustaining 30+ hours?  No way. I can't even fathom that.  

How do we account for such a feat?  It's hard to unravel which element to attribute to IQ (nature), which to motivation (nurture), which to sheer physical energy (a mix).

That the intellectual giants of history always seemed to have demonstrated extraordinary mental energy suggests mental energy is likely genetic, at least in part. Lykken is surely onto something.  It’s worth clarifying that mental energy is not simply general discipline applied in a cognitive realm—that it’s more than mere habit and will-power.  We see too many examples of people with otherwise strong discipline in one realm who are simply unable to channel that discipline to cognitive focus. (3)  In turn, while mental energy surely correlates with IQ, it can't correlate perfectly.  Obviously not all with a genius IQ can focus like Galileo or Edwin Land. And not all who focus like Land have genius IQs.  

It's also self-evident that mental energy works in tandem with physical stamina.  You need sheer endurance to endure grueling work sessions.  This might explain why great intellectuals usually peak early in life.  For example, mathematicians usually make their breakthroughs at a young age, and rarely contribute after the age of 40.  That's a long established fact.

There has to be something specific at work, beyond the traditional explanations--IQ and nurture-- for intellectual prowess, for neither alone explains why intellectuals peak early.  Consider.  If, on the one hand, you believe intellectual prowess is mostly genetic and shaped by IQ, this wouldn't explain this phenomenon of the "early peak" since your IQ doesn't drop as you age.  Of course, the brain, as an organ of the body, ultimately will break down and you'll eventually suffer some form of mental deterioration.  But, that's well into old age. For a normal, healthy person, your IQ certainly wouldn't show a material dip by the age of 40.

Alternatively, if you believe prowess is mostly a function of environmental factors, then, if anything we should see greater intellectual contributions from older academics. After all, as you age you accumulate more knowledge, more experience, and should have more fluency with logic and intellectual skills.

So neither IQ nor environmentalism explains the early peak.

But, if we add mental energy to the mix, it all begins to make sense.  We can see why the "under 40" phenomenon would hold.  For, again, mental energy must work in tandem with physical stamina.  And physical stamina--more broadly all of the attendant physical traits that enable prolonged concentration--does indeed ebb as we go through our thirties and forties.  If you're healthy and take care of yourself, you may feel and look fine.  But physically, you're simply not the same as you were at twenty-four.  And applying mental energy--focusing, engaging in deep thinking--is deceptively exhausting.  You don't have to lift weights or run marathons or even tax your large muscles to physically tire.  Think about how stress tires you out, or grinding away on a report, or being in an intense work meeting.  These things are physically draining.  Mustering and maintaining prolonged focus is especially draining.

When you hit middle age, your IQ will hold.  You'll have accumulated more knowledge.   But, if intellectual prowess hinges on mental stamina…and mental stamina  relies on physical stamina…then, we can see why many intellectuals peak early.

It's a tough thing to isolate and directly observe; but, mental energy is likely a distinct, explanatory factor of superior performance; and it's likely to be, at least in part, genetic.

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Reference:

Stamina - The Unheralded Virtue



"The first virtue in a soldier is endurance of fatigue; courage is only the second virtue." Napoleon Bonaparte
 
If you look closely at CEO's and other high-speed leaders one thing that jumps out is that they all have tremendous physical stamina.  I'd assert that stamina correlates more closely with performance at this level than does intelligence, education, family background, or any other factor. 

To one extent, it's basic math. Someone with the stamina to work 12, 15, 18 hour days has an enormous advantage.  They're getting in twice as much work time.  

It's more than that though. Physical discipline begets mental discipline. When you work that long and hard, you inevitably tackle tasks when you're feeling--mentally, emotionally, physically--below par. 
It's easy to crank through a document in the morning when you're rested and even jazzed up on a pleasant caffeine jolt.  It's easy to have a good meeting when you're confident and loose and in good spirits. 

Try it when you're tired.   And, invariably, those key moments come when you're tired.  Cramming for a big proposal.  Handling a crisis with a customer.  Business travel. (Are you ever rested on a business trip?)  Think of those late-night sessions, when people start getting punchy, or snapping, or otherwise wear down.  Someone who's able to keep it together under stress--just when others fade--is invaluable.  And again, such moments are typically the "moments-of-truth" on the work agenda.  Stamina matters.  In fact, the high-performers have not just the ability to focus in those moments; in a perverse way, they almost thrive on it.  

Finally, consider the edge in self-development.  By definition, getting out of your comfort zone means facing stress and uncertainty.  Nowadays, many of us can only be dragged out of our comfort zones with the crutch of $75 per hour personal trainers…if then.   If you have the discipline to tackle it yourself, to weave self-improvement efforts into your routine, you have a decided edge.  And, if you thrive on pushing yourself out of your comfort zone you're in the bonus.  

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Like anything else, stamina is built.  Part of it is sheer physical, part is habit.  In truth, if you're already in your mid-career, flabby habits can be tough to overcome.   As with working-out or diet, those who've build the habit from a young age will have an edge.  It's hard to go your whole life eating donuts and then leave the couch to train for a triathlon.  But, couch potatoes can and do go on to run triathlons.  In turn, you can learn the ability to stay on task--physically and mentally--at work. 

Doug Lemov, author of Teach Like a Champion, describes classroom exercises his teachers use to help students build a form of writing-endurance.  Basically, they start by having the students write--steadily, without pause--for short periods of time, and then gradually increase these periods until the students can learn to focus for longer stretches.  The students build stamina in concentration and writing, just as they'd build stamina in swimming or jogging.  Apparently, this approach works and the pay-off in student performance is worthwhile.  

There's no reason we can't do the same thing with oral communication skills.  In fact, with today's tools  (like ours!) it's even easier than writing. Through a progressive series of speak-aloud exercises we should be able to build up our stamina reasonably quickly.  The ability to speak coherently for stretches at a time is a valuable skill.  When you consider that since many of us get anxious in professional communications events, and that anxiety exacerbates the fatigue, the need for stamina is even more critical.  For many, interviews, presentations, panel discussions, can be draining events.  

Benjamin Franklin-- himself the epitome of stamina--said, "Energy and persistence conquer all things."  Perhaps you don't aspire to be a CEO or work 15-hour days.  But, wouldn't it be nice to know that, if need be, you were up for the conquest?  

Nurture versus Nature: How the Mix Changes when the Game Evolves



Experts agree, almost universally, that performance is a function of both nurture and nature.  The question is only in what balance--how much more of a role one would play in a given domain.  I hypothesize that this balance is not static, that external factors create an interplay between innate and environmental factors. Specifically, as a domain matures, the balance tilts to innate factors. 
 
In the 1980's, NBA player Larry Bird became a superstar and a model of workmanlike habits.  Reputedly, his was the classic case of perspiration over talent, of nurture over nature.  He couldn't run.  He couldn't jump.  Yet, he came to dominate a game that revolves around running and jumping.  And while Bird was big and strong, size and strength certainly don't explain his success.  Compared to fellow NBA players--an elite selection of athletes-- he was by no means physically impressive.  Bird outplayed his peers by out-practicing them.  With Bird it was "nurture" all the way. 
 
One quick caveat.  Bird was known as a smart player.  So, perhaps he did benefit from some heritable cognitive advantage.  In basketball, as with all sports, the mental dimension grows increasingly important at the advanced levels.  But, hold aside the mental dimension for now, as that only complicates the discussion.  Mental prowess is subject to the same nature-versus-nurture debate as physical prowess.  Ultimately, we'll wind up in the same place anyway. 
 
Consider. Expertise in a sport (in most pursuits) is a comparative phenomenon.  Performance is not measured on an absolute scale, but is instead a function of how much better or worse you are than the competitors. Larry Bird was obviously better than his peers. Yet, he surely wasn't more naturally gifted than his peers.  Another way to look at this is to say he reached more of his potential than others did.  That is, perhaps Bird played at 85% efficiency, while others played at, say, 70%.  These numbers are, of course, arbitrary.  But we could reasonably expect a similar variance between superstar performance and average performance.
 
Here's the issue.  Basketball doesn't stand still.  No domain does. The sport advances and we see higher performance in virtually all aspects of the game.  Fitness and nutrition improve.  Coaching methods grow more sophisticated. Scouting becomes more data-driven and efficient.  Technology improves--enabling deeper technical knowledge and wider distribution of expertise.  We can record, play-back, and analyze video.  We can circulate YouTube clips and how-to articles.  We can launch coaching academies and tap the power of statistics and other forms of analysis.  Even shoe design and apparel technology noticeably improve.  In short, as the sport evolves, the average player has increasingly more resources at her disposal to help improve her game.  As a result, the average efficiency yield (what we hypothetically posed as 70%) will continue to climb.
 
Here's what that means.  In basketball--or again, in any domain--because of advancement in domain factors, we become better at maximizing a given player's potential.  

And here's what we can reasonably conclude: as all of these factors advance, genetic factors play more of a deciding role.  We all have access to the same YouTube clips and Nike shoes. We don't all have access to the same genes. 
 
Back to Larry Bird.  If, for the sake of this argument, we assume that Bird's maximum potential --his performance at 100% efficiency-- is less than the average NBA player's potential, could he achieve the same relative performance today?  You'd have to conclude, no.  As a given domain matures, it becomes harder and harder for a Larry Bird to thrive.  As domains evolve, environmental factors matter less and genetic factors matter more.