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.