Nova: Picture this: It's the late 90s, and Enron is the darling of Wall Street. Fortune magazine names it "America's Most Innovative Company" six years in a row. Their entire philosophy, championed by CEO Jeff Skilling, was to hire and reward the most talented people on the planet. They had a "talent mindset." But in 2001, the whole thing imploded in one of the most infamous corporate scandals in history. It turns out, a culture obsessed with innate talent, and nothing else, had become narcissistic, deceptive, and ultimately, a catastrophic failure.

jin: That’s a powerful and unsettling image. It suggests that our cultural obsession with finding the "natural" genius might be fundamentally flawed.

Nova: Exactly. And it raises a huge question, especially for people like you, jin, who are starting out in a super competitive field like software engineering. We're told to value talent, but what if that's only half the story? Or even less? That's the question at the heart of Angela Duckworth's incredible book, "Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance," and it’s what we’re diving into today. Welcome to the show, jin.

jin: Thanks for having me, Nova. It's a topic I think about a lot. In tech, you're surrounded by brilliant people, and it's easy to fall into the trap of comparing your own abilities.

Nova: I can only imagine. Well, today we're going to arm you with a new framework. We'll dive deep into this from two perspectives. First, we'll explore the surprising math behind achievement and why your effort literally counts twice. Then, we'll discuss the two-part engine that fuels this effort: the power of deliberate practice and the profound impact of a purpose-driven mission. Ready to get gritty?

jin: Absolutely. Let's do it.

Nova: So, let's start with this talent myth. Duckworth, through her research, came to a stunningly simple but profound conclusion. She proposes that achievement isn't just a result of talent. It's a two-step process. The first equation is: Talent times Effort equals Skill.

jin: Okay, that makes sense. Your natural aptitude combined with the work you put in determines how skilled you become at something.

Nova: Precisely. But here’s where it gets really interesting. The second equation is: Skill times Effort equals Achievement. Notice what variable appears in both equations?

jin: Effort. It’s in there twice.

Nova: It’s in there twice! Effort builds skill, and then effort is also what makes that skill productive and turns it into real-world achievement. This is why Duckworth says effort counts twice. It’s the multiplier. This idea completely reframes how we should look at success. It’s not about the person who starts out the smartest; it’s about who applies effort most consistently.

jin: That really resonates with my experience in software engineering. You see people who might not have a traditional computer science degree, who might not seem like "naturals," but they have this incredible work ethic. They spend hours reading documentation, they're constantly building side projects, they actively seek out code reviews... and over a few years, they become the most reliable and skilled engineers on the team.

Nova: That is the perfect real-world example. Duckworth saw the same thing when she was a math teacher. She tells this fantastic story about a student named David Luong. When David entered her high school, his aptitude tests placed him in the regular math track, not the accelerated one. He wasn't flashy, just quiet and hardworking.

jin: So he was underestimated from the start.

Nova: Completely. But Duckworth noticed something. Every single piece of homework David turned in was perfect. Every test was perfect. He had this quiet hunger to learn. She realized the aptitude test had missed something vital. She fought to get him moved into the accelerated track, where, admittedly, he struggled at first. It was much harder. But he didn't give up. He went to tutoring, he asked for help, and he just kept working.

jin: So his effort started to compound.

Nova: It compounded massively. That student, David Luong, who was initially deemed not talented enough for the fast track, went on to get a perfect score on the AP calculus exam, attended a top college, and eventually earned a PhD in mechanical engineering from UCLA. He proved that aptitude isn't destiny. His effort, applied consistently, made all the difference.

jin: That story is incredible. It suggests that as a leader, or even just a team member, the most valuable person isn't necessarily the one with the highest IQ or the most prestigious background, but the one who demonstrates that consistent drive to apply effort and improve. Is that the takeaway?

Nova: I think that’s exactly it. It shifts the focus from pedigree to performance, from perceived potential to proven perseverance. It’s a game-changer. But of course, it begs the next question: if effort is this magic ingredient, what on earth sustains it over the months, years, and decades it takes to achieve something truly great?

Nova: And that, jin, brings us to the engine of grit. Duckworth argues that this sustained, marathon-like effort isn't fueled by willpower alone. It's powered by a combination of four psychological assets, and we're going to focus on two today: Deliberate Practice and Purpose.

jin: Okay, so let's start with deliberate practice. I think a lot of people, myself included, hear "practice" and just think "work more hours." But Duckworth makes a distinction, right?

Nova: A huge one. She contrasts it with her own jogging routine. She’d been jogging for years, for an hour a day, but she never got any faster. Why? Because she wasn't engaging in deliberate practice. She was just going through the motions. Deliberate practice is different. It’s focused, it’s systematic, and it’s about relentlessly pushing beyond your comfort zone. It requires a specific stretch goal, full concentration, immediate feedback, and repetition with reflection and refinement.

jin: That sounds a lot like an agile development cycle. You set a goal for a sprint, you build, you get feedback in a code review, and you iterate.

Nova: What a fantastic connection! It is an iterative process. Duckworth uses the amazing example of Benjamin Franklin, who was determined to become a better writer. He didn't just write more. He had a system. He would take essays from his favorite magazine, the Spectator, and he'd make brief notes on the meaning of each sentence. A few days later, he’d try to reconstruct the essay in his own words without looking at the original. Then, he would compare his version to the original, find his faults, and correct them.

jin: He was essentially creating his own unit tests for his writing. He had the original source as the 'correct' output and was comparing his own function against it. That's a very engineering-minded approach to a creative skill.

Nova: It’s totally algorithmic! He was isolating his weaknesses and drilling them relentlessly. That is the core of deliberate practice. It's not always fun. In fact, it's often frustrating. But it's the only way to truly improve. But that kind of focused, difficult work is hard to sustain. You need something more. You need a why. And that brings us to Purpose.

jin: This is the part that really fascinates me, especially when I think about the historical figures I admire, like Abraham Lincoln or Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Their lives were defined by a purpose that was so much bigger than their own personal ambition.

Nova: You've hit on the absolute key. Duckworth illustrates this with a simple but powerful parable of three bricklayers. A man walks up to them and asks, "What are you doing?" The first bricklayer says, "I'm laying bricks." He has a job. The second says, "I'm building a church." He has a career. But the third bricklayer looks up and says, "I am building the house of God." He has a calling.

jin: Wow. They're all doing the exact same task, but their internal motivation, their 'why,' is completely different. The first is focused on the task, the second on the project, but the third is connected to a transcendent purpose.

Nova: Exactly. And that purpose is what fuels grit over the long haul. It's the conviction that your work matters to people other than yourself. Duckworth tells the story of Joe Leader, a lead engineer for the New York City subway system. He didn't start out with a grand purpose. He took the job to pay off student loans. It was just a job.

jin: I think many of us start our careers that way. You need to pay the bills.

Nova: Of course. But over time, as he worked on the tracks and rose through the ranks, his perspective shifted. He started to see his work not just as engineering, but as a contribution to society. He said he felt responsible for moving millions of people every day—getting them to work, to school, to see their families. His job became a career, and then it became a calling. He was no longer just laying bricks; he was building the circulatory system of a great city.

jin: That's a profound shift. And it connects directly to what I admire in leaders like RBG. She wasn't just arguing cases; she was fighting for a more just and equal society. That purpose is what allowed her to persevere through decades of challenges and setbacks. It transforms the work. In tech, it's the difference between just shipping a feature to meet a deadline, and truly believing that the software you're building is solving a fundamental human problem or making someone's life genuinely better. That's the kind of work I want to do.

Nova: And that right there is the essence of purpose. It’s the ultimate fuel. It’s what makes the frustrating, deliberate practice feel worthwhile. It’s what gets you out of bed in the morning, ready to lay your bricks, because you know you’re building a cathedral.

Nova: So, jin, as we bring this all together, it seems we have two powerful, interconnected ideas from "Grit." First, the myth of the natural is just that—a myth. Achievement is a formula where effort is the supreme multiplier.

jin: Right. Achievement equals skill, which is talent times effort, multiplied by effort again. It’s a process, not a gift.

Nova: And second, that immense, sustained effort is fueled by a two-part engine: the focused, systematic work of deliberate practice, and a deep, abiding sense of purpose that connects your work to the world beyond yourself.

jin: The 'how' and the 'why.' The daily grind of getting better, powered by the belief that what you're doing truly matters.

Nova: Perfectly put. So, to make this incredibly practical for you and for our listeners, Duckworth’s family has something they call the "Hard Thing Rule." Everyone in the family—kids and parents—has to choose one hard thing that requires daily deliberate practice. You have to finish what you start, meaning you commit for a season or a year. And you get to pick your hard thing. It fosters grit in a structured way.

jin: I love that. It’s a personal commitment to growth.

Nova: It is. So, my final question for you, jin, as an engineer at the start of what I'm sure will be an amazing career: what is your "Hard Thing" right now? What are you committing to, and what's the purpose, the cathedral, that you're building with it?

jin: That's a fantastic question to reflect on. For me, the 'Hard Thing' is mastering a new area of the codebase at work that's notoriously complex. It requires deliberate practice every day—reading old code, asking senior engineers for feedback, and pushing through the frustration. But the purpose isn't just to get better at my job. The purpose is to build technology that is reliable, secure, and accessible for everyone. It's a small brick, maybe, but it's part of building a more connected and equitable digital world. That’s a cathedral worth building.

Nova: A cathedral worth building indeed. Thank you so much for sharing your insights today, jin. It’s been an absolute pleasure.

jin: Thank you, Nova. This was a great conversation.