Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell

What is an outlier? Malcolm Gladwell starts his introduction with a definition taken from Merriam-Webster:

out·​li·​er ˈau̇t-ˌlī(-ə)r  noun

1: something that is situated away from or classed differently from a main or related body
2: a statistical observation that is markedly different in value from the others of the sample

Have you ever seen a graph where most of the data points make a line or bell shape, except one or two dots floating way above the rest, all by themselves? Those dots represent outliers. Statisticians sometimes leave those out of the statistic they are quoting because they skew the average and are so out of the ordinary.

In the book Outliers, Gladwell uses the word outlier to indicate people who are outliers of success — who float above the rest of us as far as being successful. Now, what I don’t remember seeing in this book is a definition of success. Here’s what Merriam-Webster has for that:

suc·​cess sək-ˈses  noun

1a: favorable or desired outcome
b: the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence

I believe Gladwell is thinking of definition 1-b above — particularly wealth, but also power, health, fame, and knowledge. As I read, I wondered about that definition. It made me think of a sign I saw once in San Jose. The sign promoted a school that claimed to have produced many doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs, and other successful, presumably wealthy, individuals. My reaction was, “Really? Is that our highest goal for our children? To become wealthy doctors, engineers, or whatever?” Not surprising that a school in Silicon Valley was presenting that as the best reason to send your son or daughter to their school.

But I get ahead of myself. I liked this book very much. Malcolm Gladwell is a master writer. His storytelling is unsurpassed. He researches deeply and presents the information and conclusions he finds in an engaging, page-turning way. If you pressed me to answer the question, “What was Malcolm Gladwell’s point?” in this book, I would say his point is in this paragraph fairly early in the book:

…[T]here are very clearly patterns here, and what’s striking is how little we seem to want to acknowledge them. We prestend that success is exclusively a matter of individual merit. But there’s nothing in any of the histories we’ve looked at so far to suggest things are that simple. These are stories, instead, about people who were given a special opportunity to work really hard and seized it, and who happened to come of age at a time when that extraordinary effort was rewarded by the rest of society. Their success was not just of their own making. It was a product of the world in which they grew up. (page 67, emphasis mine)

So, not just pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and working hard, but taking advantage of the opportunities that arise because of the time, place, and societal norms in which you live. Success is yet another thing in life over which we have little control. Beyond that, Gladwell emphasizes “how little we seem to want to acknowledge” this truth. We like to think we succeed because of what we did, not some seemingly random circumstance of birthdate, opportunity, or a particular type of societal favor.

Gladwell writes a lot about talent and intelligence (IQ), showing that, again, the opportunities we basically luck into are a much bigger factor in success than talent or intelligence. Sometimes, it’s crazy how that works out. In one chapter, Gladwell tracks the success of hockey players in Canada, and shows how players born the closest to the deadline date for beginning hockey leagues have an advantage of age/maturity and hours of practice/playing over those born soon after the deadline who are younger and have less hours of play than their peers. The month you are born makes you more or less likely to succeed in hockey.

The eligibility cutoff for age-class hockey is January 1. A boy who turns tem on January 2, then, could be playing alongside someone who doesn’t turn ten until the end of the year—and at that age, a twelve-month gap in age represents an enormous difference in physical maturity. (page 14)

He includes graphs showing that the great majority of successful hockey players are born in January, February, and March. Then Gladwell makes another point.

We overlook just how large a role we all play—and by “we” I mean society—in determining who makes it and who doesn’t.

If we chose to, we could acknowledge that cutoff dates matter. We could set up two or even three hockey leagues, divided by month of birth…If all the Czech and Canadian athletes [the two data sources Gladwell used as examples] born at the end of the year had a fair chance, then the Czech and the Canadian national teams suddenly would have twice as many athleses to choose from. (page 33)

Gladwell shows us this type of advantage given to some not just in sports but in education, science, software development, and more. He argues that we could “level the playing field” for those disadvantaged by things such as cutoff dates and opportunities available to some but not all.

But we don’t. And why? Because we cling to the idea that success is a simple function of individual merit and that the world in which we all grow up and the rules we choose to write as a society don’t matter at all. (page 33)

Interesting, isn’t it? Gladwell gives example after example, story after story, of people who achieve success in their chosen occupation with some kind of opportunity or advantage, usually early in life, available to them through no control of their own. I found it fascinating.

One story that made me think hard about the meaning of success was Chris Langan's. In this case, Gladwell wrote about the advantages of being born into a wealthier family and neighborhood, with access to better schools, role models of successful people, and opportunities to learn from subject-matter experts. “Chris Langan, by contrast, had only the bleakness of Bozeman, and a home dominated by an angry, drunken stepfather.” (page 110) Chris is one of the smartest, most inventive people in the world, “a man with a one-in-a-million mind” (page 114), but

He wasn’t leadingn a graduate seminar at some prestigious university. He was living on a slightly tumbledown horse farm in northern Missouri, sitting on the back porch in jeans and a cutoff T-shirt. He knew how it looked: it was the great paradox of Chris Langan’s genius.

“I have not pursued mainstream publishers as hard as I should have,” he conceded. “Going around, querying publishers, trying to find an agent. I haven’t done it, and I am not interested in doing it.” (page 114)

Gladwell starts the next paragraph with “It was an admission of defeat.”

My thought: Is it? Could he not consider his life successful if he was content living in a horse farm in northern Missouri? Is his life a defeat because the world has not seen the product of his genius? From what I read, Gladwell seems to show that Langan is frustrated and “defeated” because his earlier attempts to bring his work in physics, philosophy, and mathematics to the attention of the world were rebuffed, often because he—Chris Langan—did not have the requisite knowledge of how to “speak up for himself, or how to reason and negotiate with those in positions of authority.” (page 110)

Gladwell even writes of the advantage of “entitlement,” usually spoken of in such negative ways. He argues that children who feel entitled take it for granted that they have the right to ask for what they want or need, to speak up and assert themselves with people in positions of authority. (page 106)

Perhaps Chris Langan is defeated. But he, or others like him—or all of us, for that matter—can base our feeling of success on things other than wealth, recognition, and power. The book is about what we might call worldly success. And it’s a fascinating read that gives much thought to the possibility of providing opportunities and advantages to those who, through no fault of their own, do not have them available to them. I admire that and would love to see more done to level the playing field for all. I hope to notice areas within my circle of influence where I can facilitate that.

As a person of faith, specifically a Christian, the book made me think of what I personally would define as success. Am I successful? Are my children successful? My friends and family? Once, when I was in a group of peers who all had adult children similar in age to my own, they began talking about their children’s occupations. Most of their adult children had become engineers, some well-regarded musicians, or other such sort of “white collar” professions. I probably sounded ridiculously sanctimonious when I said something along the lines of, “I would be happy if all my kids became truck drivers or plumbers or whatever, if they loved the Lord, had loving family and friends, and tried to be live their life in God.” Not to be all pious and goody-two-shoes, though, it is true not only for my kids but for myself and everyone else.

I would like all I love, and I, to join Paul in saying:

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:11-13)

Paul is using the word “content” rather than “success.” I think being content equals being successful.

It’s good that Outliers made me think deeply about the meaning of success, but that is not Gladwell’s point, and it would not even be about the same topic if he argued for us to equate success with contentment. I googled Malcolm Gladwell to see if he professed to be a person of faith. He does say he is a Christian, and he has written and spoken about his faith.

I highly recommend Outliers. It’s easy and fun to read, you learn a lot, it reveals things about people and the world that you very likely have not thought of yourself, and has some good proposals for improving life for yourself and others.