Vol 25 – The Myth of the Child Prodigy: Why Time on the Job Matters 

In every field, from music and writing to science and sports, there is a tendency to mythologize talent. We celebrate “natural prodigies,” people who seem to be born with extraordinary abilities, as if their success was predetermined. But is talent really something innate, or is it a product of time and effort? 

A recent article from the SIX at 6 newsletter explores this question, highlighting a theme that is both obvious and underappreciated: greatness is less about natural talent and more about time on the job. The people we admire—whether musicians, comedians, writers, or athletes—almost always have one thing in common: they’ve simply put in more hours than everyone else. 

Work Orientation: Job, Career, or Calling? 

Sociologist Robert N. Bellah first introduced the idea that people relate to their work in three different ways: as a Job, a Career, or a Calling. 

• A Job is simply a way to pay the bills. It’s transactional, providing a paycheck and little else. 

• A Career is about achievement, advancement, and status—climbing the ladder. 

• A Calling is work that feels inherently meaningful, something pursued for its own sake. 

Psychologist Amy Wrzesniewski later studied this framework across professions—ranging from hospital janitors to teachers to artists—and found something surprising: in every workplace, employees were evenly split across these three mindsets. That is, within the same profession, one-third of people saw their work as just a paycheck, one-third saw it as a path to advancement, and one-third saw it as a deep, fulfilling pursuit. 

So what determined whether someone saw their work as a Calling? Time on the job. 

It wasn’t about passion, talent, or ambition. The longer someone stayed in a profession, the more likely they were to develop the skills, confidence, and autonomy that made their work feel meaningful. In other words, what starts as just a job can evolve into a calling—if we stick with it long enough. 

The Hardest Phase: When You’re Bad at What You Love 

Ira Glass, the acclaimed radio personality behind This American Life, knows this truth well. He once recounted a conversation with three college students, all unsure about their career paths. When one asked, “How do you know if you’re going to be really good at something?” Glass gave a brutally honest answer: 

“Even the stuff you’re really good at, you’re not really good at right away.” 

Early in his career, Glass thought he was making high-quality radio. Years later, when he listened back to his early work, he was horrified. “There’s no sign that I have any talent for radio,” he admitted. Even after 15 years in the industry, he still felt like he was improving. 

The key, he told the students, is forcing yourself through the hardest phase—the part where you’re bad at what you love. Too many people give up when they don’t see instant results. But the only way to get good at something is to endure the awkward, uncomfortable phase where everything feels clumsy and unimpressive. 

This applies to every field, whether it’s writing, music, comedy, or sports. 

Jon Batiste: The “Prodigy” Who Wasn’t 

Jon Batiste is often described as a musical genius—a once-in-a-generation talent who was “born to play.” But Batiste himself rejects that narrative. 

“Amongst my family,” he once said, “I was the least talented.” 

Batiste grew up in New Orleans, surrounded by a rich musical tradition. Many assume he was playing the piano effortlessly from an early age. But the reality? He struggled. 

“There was a glorious awkwardness,” he said. “That was a decade or more before I got good at the instrument. There was a long period of hours and hours in the practice room.” 

He didn’t enjoy all of it. In fact, he admitted that much of his training was boring. He would repeat scales and chord progressions for hours, experiment with the pressure of each note, and deliberately limit himself to just two octaves to train his ear. 

“You have to be okay with sounding bad for a long time,” he said. 

That’s the part people don’t see. We admire the finished product—the breathtaking performance, the effortless fluency—but we don’t see the years of deliberate, grueling effort that came before it. 

Joan Didion’s “Low Dread” and the Routine of Work 

Even at the peak of her career, celebrated writer Joan Didion never felt confident heading to her writing desk. 

“I have blind faith that if you go in and work every day, it will get better,” she said. 

Most people assume great writers love writing. But Didion confessed that she dreaded it every morning. The hardest part was just walking into the room and starting. But once she did, something always broke through. 

This mindset—showing up, even when you don’t feel like it—is what separates those who succeed from those who don’t. She had a simple philosophy: “Every day is all there is.” 

There are no magic moments, no bursts of divine inspiration that replace the need to do the work. Just time on the job. 

Final Thoughts: The Long Road to Mastery 

The biggest mistake people make is assuming they should be good at something right away. But the truth is, no one starts off great. Even the best struggle. Even the legends sound bad at first. 

Success is not about genius—it’s about endurance. 

So, if you’re in the hard phase—the phase where nothing clicks, where you feel stuck, where you question whether you have talent—know this: you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. 

Keep going. Keep working. Keep adding drops to the bucket. Because time on the job is the only thing that truly matters.