Why We Prize Natural Talent Over Earned Ability (And Why It’s Screwing Us All)

Michael Jordan.

I don’t think there is anyone who hasn’t heard of him. The six time NBA champion (just one of his feats!) is considered to not only be the most legendary basketball player of all time but also is revered to be one of the greatest athletes in sports history. The “Air Jordan” legacy, most people still believe was gifted and born talented. But the truth is far from what is believed.

He failed to even make it to his high school varsity team in his sophomore year. He was only 15 then. The coaches rejected him as ‘not ready’ That devastated him… but didn’t deter him. From then on, he used to wake up at six every morning, and practice before school until he got selected the following year. 

     There is a legendary story about his training sessions. During the 1995 offseason, after losing to the Orlando Magic in the playoffs, he was furious — not at his teammates, but at himself. So while filming Space Jam during the day, he had a custom-built basketball court installed on the set. At night, he’d train for hours and invite NBA players to scrimmage so he could get back in shape.

“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

Jordan wasn’t gifted but he was willing to outwork everyone.

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Let’s get one thing straight - we are inclined to believe  that you are a “natural” than admit you busted your ass to get good at something.

You see a kid play guitar like Slash? Oh, he’s a prodigy. He’s a natural talent.

You read about a 19-year old set up the next unicorn startup? Oh, that’s talent, baby.

You see Tendulkar hit the ball out of the stadium? Oh, he was born with it.

Why? Because we revere the naturals. We like to think of our champions and idols as superheroes, who were born different. Coz that’s shiny and sexy. It connotes they don’t or didn’t have to try. Their ‘natural talent’ almost connotes they don’t have to put the effort. Coz putting in the effort is seemingly unsexy. (You would rather do make-up and flaunt your sexy body than show the reps you are putting in all drenched in smelly sweat, wouldn't you?)

We don’t like to think of ‘naturals’ as relatively ordinary people who made themselves extraordinary by eating the shit day after day.

Talent is overrated

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: most people would rather believe in magic than math. Effort is measurable. Effort is boring. Effort means waking up at 5 a.m., sucking at stuff for years, questioning your life choices, and then maybe getting good at it.

Natural talent, though? That’s a get-out-of-the-jail-free card. Implying that you didn’t have to suffer. You didn’t have to fail. You just are special.

It makes people feel better about not trying. If success is based on natural ability, then their lack of it isn’t their fault — it’s genetics. “Oh well, guess I wasn’t born to be great. Pass the chips.”

The Myth Behind Prodigy

Research has shown that even the so-called prodigies weren’t just born that way.

Mozart? His dad was a psycho stage parent who trained him like an Olympic athlete from age three.

Tiger Woods? Well, hold your breath, he started at the age of 2. His legacy was built on decades of deliberate effort and hard military-style training.

Serena Williams? Same story. These aren’t happy accidents. These are obsession, discipline, and work dressed up in a glittery “gifted” costume.

Or Michael Phelps? The most decorated swimming champion in the history of swimming, with 23 medals. His success was built on an almost obsessive commitment to habit, routine, and mental conditioning. He would wake up at the same time. Eat the same breakfast. Listen to the same music playlist to enter into the focus zone. Do the exact same warm-up down to the exact strokes in the pool – day in and day out. Not only that, at his peak he was hitting the pool 7 days a week, often twice in a day. Clocked 50 miles in the pool. No off-breaks. No cheat days, Not even Christmas.

But no one wants to hear all that. No one wishes to see that. That’s drab. That's dull. It ruins the superhero-ish like fairytale of natural talent. It takes away all the glitter and sparkle.

This Mentality Is Killing Growth

Worshiping talent over effort doesn’t just screw up how we admire people — it screws up how we treat ourselves. That’s because the moment we hit a wall and one failure,  “I suck at this,” we’re out. This is not for me. This ain’t my thing. Never mind that we gave it about 15 minutes of honest effort.

That’s how we’re conditioned to believe - if it’s not easy, we’re not meant to do it. We think struggle = failure, when in reality, struggle = progress.

You know what should impress us about people? Someone who sucked at something but just kept going. The one who bombed their first pitch, got laughed out of the room, and came back the next time swinging harder. But we have lost the ability to extract these little background stories as there’s not enough sparkle in them.

Yet those are the very people we should be learning from. Not the “naturals,” but the grinders. The people who climbed out of the mud, face down, hands bloody, and built something from zero.

Let’s Change the Conversation

Stop idolizing natural talent like it’s a divine gift handed out to a chosen few. That mindset’s a trap. Instead, start respecting effort. Celebrate the people who sucked — and then got better. Praise the people not on any whimsical 'talent' but for taking initiative, seeing a difficult task through, for consistently putting up the struggle and learning something new, for being undaunted in the face of setback, or for being open to acting on criticism. [1]

So, the next time you catch yourself saying, “Wow, they’re just naturally talented,” try asking what you’re really doing: Are you admiring them… or are giving yourself an excuse not to try?

Because guess what — no one’s born great. But plenty of people become great.

The only difference? They didn’t quit when it got hard.

[1] Reference drawn from the book Mindset by Carol Dweck