In the perennial debate over “nature versus nurture,” most people subscribe to a rather wishy-washy idea eloquently referred to as the “bit-of-this-bit-of-that” theory.
But not Malcolm Gladwell.
In his book “Outliers,” another of his brilliant explorations of human behavior, Gladwell says that the way we behave ”is all society.”
Our cultural heritage is the dominant feature in determining our success, he says.
Seemingly innate qualities such as “genius” are at best irrelevant and at most onerous.
Thus a “brilliant” man whose home life does not provide opportunities and “practical intelligence” is no more likely than you or me to win the Nobel Prize. On the other hand, a guy like Bill Gates, who happened to attend a school that even in 1967 had an advanced computer room and well-connected parent body, and who had the chance to rack up over 10,000 hours of programming experience by the time he was 18, was molded for success not by genetics, but rather by the quirks of social circumstance.
It is a compelling argument. Or perhaps, as a friend suggests, it’s depressing. Either anyone can be a Nobel Prize winner given the right circumstances, or none of us can because, well, how many of us have spent 10,000 hours of our childhood practicing piano or gazing through a microscope?
I’m a big advocate of society over nature. In countless discussions, I’ve contested the argument that women’s role in Judaism is determined by the “facts” of biology — that is, women give birth ergo, they should not be rabbis (e.g. see Chabad). In one memorable exchange, a man said, “Men are aggressive, we like sports, and that’s just the way it is.” Of course, his wife looked at him and said, “You know, you have two sons. Only one likes football.” Just like that, the son who dislikes football became less of a man, an errant biological artifact.
It’s not that I don’t believe in biological differences. Obviously, I’m the one in my household who has been pregnant. I just think that biology is irrelevant and over-cited. I mean, I’m also the only one in my house with brown eyes. So what? Neither item should determine my place in human society.
The real reason, though, why I like to stay away from the nature-biology argument is that it is an excuse. When a man says, “I can’t help myself; I’m aggressive because I’m a man,” he’s basically abdicating all responsibility. Once we cite nature, the conversation is fatalistically over. The society rationale, by contrast, enables us to be self-aware, self-critical and responsible for our own behavior: What we do is not predetermined; it’s our choice.
Gladwell’s “Outliers” is great in that sense. His illustrations of the power of cultural heritage are captivating. Moreover, the book offers great insight into the dynamics of class culture, a topic of my doctoral dissertation, which is about how Israeli society is built around working class culture that often clashes with American Jewish culture that is more middle- to upper-class.
There’s just one nagging problem with Gladwell’s book: Every example he cites is male. All of them!
His chapter on communication style among airline pilots — all men. The chapter on violence in the Appalachian Mountains — all men. His chapter on Jewish garment industry workers and their lawyer sons — all men. The Chinese rice farmers — all men. Hockey players — all men. He used individual examples of Bill Gates, Bill Joy, Christopher Langan, Joe Flom, Robert Oppenheimer — all men. The only woman to appear in his book is his grandmother, to whom he dedicated his book and whose story is revealed in the last chapter. That’s a lovely gesture but it belies the point. The book is about men.
I have no problem with Gladwell writing a book about men. I think it’s a great idea (I’m even working on one myself). The problem is that he writes about men and calls it “culture.” It’s not “culture”; it’s men’s culture. He should have said that. I thought we were past the era signs reading, “All are invited. For men only.” I guess not. Certain (sexist) parts of our cultural heritage are still firmly in place.