Why Do Planes Crash? Malcolm Gladwell on Outliers, Work, Culture, Communication (2008)

Outliers: The Story of Success is a non-fiction book written by Malcolm Gladwell and published by Little, Brown and Company on November 18, 2008. In Outliers, Gladwell examines the factors that contribute to high levels of success. About the book: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0316017930/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0316017930&linkCode=as2&tag=tra0c7-20&linkId=ed85882af8afe83000b81dedfcf7e48d

To support his thesis, he examines the causes of why the majority of Canadian ice hockey players are born in the first few months of the calendar year, how Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates achieved his extreme wealth, how The Beatles became one of the most successful musical acts in human history, how Joseph Flom built Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom into one of the most successful law firms in the world, how cultural differences play a large part in perceived intelligence and rational decision making, and how two people with exceptional intelligence, Christopher Langan and J. Robert Oppenheimer, end up with such vastly different fortunes. Throughout the publication, Gladwell repeatedly mentions the "10,000-Hour Rule", claiming that the key to success in any field is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing a specific task for a total of around 10,000 hours.
The publication debuted at number one on the bestseller lists for The New York Times and The Globe and Mail, holding the position on the former for eleven consecutive weeks. Generally well-received by critics, Outliers was considered more personal than Gladwell's other works, and some reviews commented on how much Outliers felt like an autobiography. Reviews praised the connection that Gladwell draws between his own background and the rest of the publication to conclude the book. Reviewers also appreciated the questions posed by Outliers, finding it important to determine how much individual potential is ignored by society. However, the lessons learned were considered anticlimactic and dispiriting. The writing style, deemed easy to understand, was criticized for oversimplifying complex sociological phenomena.

Figures mentioned include:
The Beatles
Joseph Flom
Christopher Langan
J. Robert Oppenheimer
Bill Gates
Steve Ballmer
Paul Allen
Steve Jobs
Regina Borgenicht
Louis Borgenicht
Louise Farkas, sociology looking at children of people like the Borgenichts.
Ted Friedman, lawyer.
Barry Garfinkel
Bill Joy, American computer scientist, co-founder of Sun Microsystems.
Herbert Wachtell, Corporate lawyer, founding partner of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz.
Martin Lipton, Corporate lawyer, founding partner of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz.
Leonard Rosen, Corporate lawyer, founding partner of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz.
George Katz, Corporate lawyer, founding partner of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz.
Samuel Howard, resident of Harlen County, Kentucky.
William Turner, resident of Harlen County, Kentucky.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outliers:_The_Story_of_Success_(book)

[APPLAUSE]

Thank you.

If my mother knew I was
standing at the front

of a church in front
of hundreds of people,

she'd have a heart attack.

I am very happy to be here.

I would be remiss if I didn't--

my editor, Bill
Phillips, is here.

The one who was primarily
responsible for the success

of my first two books and
heavily involved in the third.

And I want him to
stand and this--

[APPLAUSE]

Good.

If you write a book about the
collectivity of achievement,

you can't but acknowledge
people like Bill.

I was going to give
you all a choice.

I can either do a kind of
relatively short synopsis

of my book and we can do lots of
Q&A. Or I can tell you a story,

which-- and I've thought--

Story.

Story, all right.

I didn't really-- I sort of
stacked the deck, I realize.

[LAUGHTER]

So a lot of this
book is about culture

and about how culture matters.

And by that I mean how
does the where we're from

and who our ancestors were
make a difference in how

we do our jobs and how
good we are at what

we choose to do for a living.

And that idea takes up the
whole second half of the book.

And it's a very--

I think-- profound and
sometimes difficult thing

to wrestle with.

And so one of the
examples I use in the book

to illustrate this point of
how much culture matters is

plane crashes.

I have a whole chapter
on plane crashes.

And so what I thought
I would do today

is tell a story
from that chapter.

And I will warn you,
though, that I'm not going

to tell the whole chapter.

I'm taking an
excerpt out, and so

what I'm going to tell you
makes a good deal less sense

than the version you'll
read in the book.

And it's also a
good deal scarier

than the version you'll
read in the book.

By the way, who
in this room will

be flying in a plane in
the next month or so?

[LAUGHTER]

Sorry to hear that.

[LAUGHTER]

But I think-- so it is scary.

But the most important
thing about this plane crash

that I want to talk
about is that it's scary

not because it is unusual.

It is scary because
it is typical,

which is a very important
thing to keep in mind.

So here goes.

The crash I want to talk
about was Avianca 052,

which takes off from
Columbia, Medellin, Columbia,

on January 25th, 1990, bound
for JFK airport in New York.

And-- as most of
you know, Columbia

is not that far from
the United States.

It's just on the other
side of the Caribbean Sea.

And to get up to New
York from Columbia,

you cross the Caribbean
Sea and the Gulf,

and you go up the east
coast of the United States.

But as it happens, this
was January and there was

a nor'easter along the east
coast and all kinds of planes

were delayed that night,
among them Avianca 052.

So here they were on a
relatively routine flight

from Columbia to New York,
and the captain of the plane

was a man named
Laureano Caviedes.

And the copilot was a
man named Mauricio Klotz.

So Caviedes and Klotz
are flying this plane,

and they start to get held
up by air traffic control.

And they are held up because the
weather is so bad-- very, very

thick fog and high winds.

They're held up first
above Norfolk, Virginia,

for about 20 minutes, and
then above Atlantic City

for 30 minutes, and then
again outside of JFK--

about 40 miles outside of JFK
for an additional 30 minutes.

So after about an hour
and a quarter of delay,

they're cleared for
landing, and they come down

into the runway at JFK, and they
encounter a really severe wind

shear when they're about
500 feet above the ground.

Now wind shear, as I'm
sure most of you know,

is a situation where the
wind is blowing very heavily

in the face of the aircraft.

And so you add power to
maintain constant speed,

and then at a certain point,
the wind just drops off.

Boom, right?

And all of a sudden
you're going too fast.

Now, normally, in
that kind of situation

what happens in a plane is
that the autopilot will adjust,

and you'll be able to
land safely anyway.

But as it happens,
the autopilot--

for reasons we
don't understand--

was turned off on Avianca
052, possibly because it was

malfunctioning.

And so the pilots executed
what's called a go around,

which is simply when
you're coming in to land

and you realize you can't make
the runway, so you pull up

and you circle around.

And they made a big
circle over Long Island.

And they re-approached
for a second landing.

And as they were
flying towards JFK

to come in for this
second landing,

the engineer-- the
flight engineer--

cries out, flame out
on engine number four.

And then flame out on
engine number three.

One by one, the engines
were just blowing.

And the captain
says at that point,

show me the runway,
because he thinks,

if we're close enough to JFK,
I can guide this crippled plane

in for landing, and it
won't matter that we're

losing all of our engines.

But they can't see the
runway, because it's fog,

and also they're
nowhere near JFK.

They're still 14 miles
away from the airport.

And so they crash.

They come down and
they actually crash

in the backyard of John
McEnroe's father's estate

on Oyster Bay in Long Island.

And 73 people die, and
it's one of the worst

accidents in the New
York area in many years.

And the next day, of course,
the flight investigators come,

and they comb
through the wreckage,

and they retrieve the
black box, and they

start their investigation.

And, typically,
these investigations

can take weeks to uncover
the cause of the crash,

but in this case, it
doesn't take weeks.

In fact, they know by the next
morning what caused the crash

of a Avianca 052.

And it has nothing
to do with the plane.

The plane was in
perfect working order.

And it has nothing to
do with the pilots.

They weren't drunk
or high or sick or--

It was nothing to do, in
fact, with the weather,

although the weather was
certainly bad last that night.

And it had nothing to do
with air traffic control.

They didn't make any
catastrophic mistakes.

The cause of the crash was
actually really simple.

To put it in the argot
of the aviation world,

it was fuel exhaustion.

They'd run out of gas.

Now when I said in the beginning
that this was a typical crash,

I didn't mean by that
that planes run out

of fuel all the time.

They don't.

What I meant by saying that
it was a typical crash was

that it took the form of--

it did not have a
catastrophic cause.

We often think that
accidents, like plane crashes,

are catastrophes in the
sense that something blows up

in the cockpit, and the
captain is thrown back

against his seat, and
he says, dear God,

and the flight attendant
comes rushing in,

and her face is ashen,
and in the back,

the passengers are screaming.

That's our mental image of
what a plane crash is, right?

That's what we've
seen in Hollywood.

But, in fact, nothing could
be further from the truth.

Plane crashes rarely
take that form at all.

In fact, what they
tend to be far more

often is a very sort of subtle
process that begins very slowly

and gradually
overtakes the pilots

until the plane ends up in some
kind of irredeemable crisis.

So, for example, if you look
at lots of plane crashes, what

you discover is that
overwhelmingly they happen

when the weather is poor.

Now, not when the
weather is so terrible

that no planes
should be in the sky,

but just that the weather is
bad enough that the pilot is

under some degree of stress.

You also find that
plane crashes invariably

happen when the plane
is behind schedule.

Not drastically behind schedule,
but enough behind schedule

that the pilots are hurrying.

And we all know that you
start to make mistakes

when you hurry.

In an overwhelming
number of cases,

plane crashes happen when
the two pilots have never

flown together before.

So they don't know
each other really well.

So they're not
comfortable with working--

particularly in times
when things get difficult,

they're not good at
working together, yet.

And we also know that plane
crashes are overwhelmingly

associated with errors on
the part of the pilots.

And not just one or two errors,
but a typical plane crash

involves seven consecutive
errors, each of which

would not be sufficient
to cause an accident,

but in combination is enough
to bring down the plane.

And when you look at
those errors, what

you discover is that
overwhelmingly they

are not examples--

they're not cases of
gross pilot negligence.

And they're not
examples-- it's not

like the pilot turns left
and should have turned right

or pulls down on this lever
when they should have pulled up

on that lever.

Rather, when you
look closely at what

causes those sorts of errors
that lead to a plane crash,

they are overwhelmingly
errors of communication.

One pilot is supposed to tell
the other pilot something

and doesn't.

Or he tells him something
and he doesn't say it

in a form that allows the
other pilot to understand.

In other words, when
you look closely

at plane crashes,
what you discover

is that they are
overwhelmingly not

technological or
technical phenomenon,

they are social phenomenon.

And that's why Avianca
052 is so typical,

because it is really the kind of
quintessential social accident.

One of the things
that I did when

I was trying to understand
this plane crash

is that I hung out with
experts on plane crashes,

and one of the guys
that I spent time

with was this really
marvelous pilot,

a Sri Lankan named
Suren Ratwatte.

And he flies for a
very big airline,

and he's an expert on what's
called human factors, which

is that-- those
are the people who

study the interaction of
technology and humans,

which is very much what a
plane crash is all about.

And he sort of walked me
through that accident.

And he points out
that it is typical--

I mean as I described before
what a typical accident was

all about.

We've got the bad weather
here, as you almost always do.

We've got the plane
behind schedule,

as we almost always have.

And we've got the malfunction--
the minor malfunction

of the autopilot, which is
a contributing factor-- not

something that would
cripple the plane,

but just something that adds
to the stress of the pilot.

But Ratwatte also
makes the point

that one of the things
that's very clear when

you look at that plane crash
is how tired the captain was.

Caviedes is flying a Boeing 707.

Now that was the
previous workhorse.

That's the predecessor
to the 737,

which is the current workhorse
of the aviation world.

But it's really an
old generation plane,

and when you pull
all of your levers--

the levers are actually
connected with pulleys

to the sheet metal of the plane.

It's an actual-- he said flying
a 707 is like rowing a boat.

It's a physical-- I mean, today
you use a little joystick.

It's really easy.

But it's actually really
hard to fly this thing.

And here you have
Caviedes, who is

circling around the East Coast
for an hour and a quarter.

And it's actually hard work,
and he starts to get tired.

And if you look in
the cockpit of a 707,

you see that all of the
gauges are like really small.

They're like the
size of coffee cups.

Whereas today,
they're like this big.

It's really easy to see them
when you're working hard.

But in his case, it
starts to get really hard,

because he has to
squint and to read

all of his various controls.

And we know he's tired, because
he starts to ask for things

to be repeated, over
and over again--

when we listen to the
flight transcript--

which is one thing that
happens to you when

you start to get exhausted.

You can't process things
as easily and quickly

as you could before.

And he also asked for things
to be translated into Spanish

for him, even though he's a
fluent English speaker, which

is another thing that happens
to us when we get tired.

Our peripheral cognitive
processes start to shut down.

And he also starts
to make mistakes.

On the first abortive landing--

you have something called
a ground proximity warning

system, which tells if
you're coming in too low.

And he's coming in too low.

And the ground proximity
goes off 15 times.

It's a voice that
says, you know--

and he seems to ignore it, as
if he's kind of tuned it out.

And we also know he's tired,
because he could easily have

asked to land at Philadelphia
a good hour before the crash

in New York and doesn't.

It's as if he's kind
of locked in on New

York as his destination
and can't conceive

of changing his plan
in any way, which

is another thing that happens
to us when we're exhausted.

So we know that's one thing
that's going in that cockpit

is we have a tired pilot.

But the other thing that
Ratwatte pointed out

was what's strange about
what was going on in

that cockpit was how
quiet it is, particularly

Klotz, the copilot,
is the pilot who

is responsible for all of the
communication with air traffic

control.

He's the one who's supposed
to be coordinating bringing

this plane in to landing.

And he seems to be very,
very passive in a way that

seems very peculiar.

So, for example, he doesn't
tell air traffic control

that they're running out
of fuel until the end

of the third holding
pattern, which

would be unusual if
they are approaching

this kind of crisis.

And when he does tell them
that, they immediately say,

Avianca 052,
cleared for landing.

But what we think Klotz
thought they were saying

was that he was allowed to
go-- they were allowing Avianca

to go to the front of the line
of all of the planes that were

circling around JFK that night.

He thought they were putting
them at the front of the queue

so they could land first.

In fact, they were putting
them at the end of the queue

so they could land
last of all the ones

that were cleared for landing.

It's a really crucial
misunderstanding, and, in fact,

one that would prove fatal
for this particular plane.

But Klotz never once
tries to clarify.

He never once steps in with
air traffic control and says,

are we talking about
the front of the line

or the back of the line?

In fact, he doesn't bring
up the subject of fuel

again for another 38 minutes.

And when I was
talking to Ratwatte,

he kept coming back
to this silence issue,

this kind of passivity, because
he thought it was really

at the root of trying to
understand what went wrong that

night in the cockpit
of Avianca 052.

And he tells me this
really fascinating story,

Ratwatte does, about what
had happened to him that day.

We met him at his
hotel in Manhattan.

And had just flown
into JFK that morning--

that afternoon, rather,
and he had done--

he flies those huge airbuses.

And he'd just come
in from Dubai.

And he was late.

And I said, well,
why were you late?

And he said, well, because we
had this issue just a couple

of hours out of Dubai.

You know, when you fly
from Dubai to New York,

you go north.

You go up over Moscow
on the Arctic Circle

and then you come down.

And when they were over
Moscow, a woman in the back--

an Indian woman,
who was traveling

with-- an elderly Indian woman
traveling with her husband,

had had a stroke,
and she started

vomiting and having seizures.

And they found a doctor and
he'd gone back, and he had said,

she only has, at
best, an hour to live.

We have to get her
medical attention.

And he was at that
point over Moscow.

And he had to make a
series of decisions

about what to do in order
to save this woman's life.

And his first thought was,
I can't land in Moscow.

I mean here is a elderly couple.

They have no money.

They don't even speak English.

They're from some little
tiny village in the Punjab.

If I plunk them down
in Moscow, they're

going to get eaten alive.

He's like, we'll
never see them again.

So he's like, I've got to
find a first world country.

That's exactly
the phase he used.

[LAUGHTER]

I have to find a first world
destination for this couple.

And so he thinks, Helsinki.

That's where he's going
to land the plane.

And his next problem
is, he's heavy.

He's 60 tons overweight.

Think about it-- he just
took off from Dubai.

Planes are not supposed to land
when they have that much fuel.

A plane, you're supposed
to use up all your fuel,

get to your destination,
and then you land.

But he's got 60
tons of extra fuel.

And the plane's
electronics are not

calibrated to land a
plane that's that heavy.

So he has this decision to make.

What do I do?

Do I go over the Baltic
Sea and dump my fuel?

Then he thinks, that'll
take 40 minutes,

and besides, no one's very happy
when you dump 60 tons of fuel

in the middle of the Baltic Sea.

[LAUGHTER]

So he thinks, OK, I'm
going to land heavy.

Now landing having means
that you have to turn off

your electronics,
and, basically,

land the plane yourself
as light as a feather,

and if you don't, it could
structurally damage the plane.

And planes are $400,
$500 million each.

They're not cheap things.

This is a huge Airbus.

So immediately he has to start
dealing with this crisis.

And he has a window
of 40 minutes

in which to figure it out.

So he has to get on the radio
with his superiors in Dubai

and say, is it OK
if I land heavy?

I'm going to risk your brand
new $400 million dollar plane,

but I think I need to.

He's going to get on the phone
with Helsinki, an airport

he's never landed at
and that he doesn't even

know can handle his plane,
and learn everything

he can about that airport and
figure out as well-- he learns

when he's talking
to them, typically

when you land at Helsinki, you
come in over the water, not

over the city,
because they don't

want planes coming in over
the city for noise reasons.

But when you come in that way
over the water, typically,

the wind is behind you.

Well, he's heavy.

He can't be landing with
the wind behind him.

He needs to land into the wind.

So he has to not only
get Helsinki to tell him

about their airport
really fast, [AUDIO OUT]

to doing what you're
not supposed to do,

which is coming
in over Helsinki.

Next, he's got to talk to
the doctor who's tending

to the woman in the back.

Exactly how much time do I need?

He's got to get an
ambulance waiting

on the ground, ready
to-- right where

he's going to land,
come in immediately

and get that woman
off the plane.

He's got to get his
flight attendants

to communicate to the
people in the back

that no, we're not
going to crash.

No, this isn't horrible, but we
have a woman who's very sick.

He's got to--

I could go on.

But if you think
about all the things

he had to do in order to prepare
for that landing, what that

meant was that for
that 40 minutes,

he never stopped talking.

He talked the entire time.

And, in fact, what we're talking
about when we talk about what

it means to be a good pilot--
because he is being a really

good pilot in that moment--

sure, he needs to be
able to land heavy,

and that takes technical
skills, but mostly

what we are asking of that pilot
in that moment, in that crisis,

is that he be able
to communicate,

he be able to get on the phone
with his bosses back home

and talk them into letting
him land the plane,

get on the phone with Helsinki
and talk them into letting him

land into the wind, get on the
phone with the ambulance guys

and get them all ready, get
on the radio with the people

in the back and get them all
calmed down, talk to them,

you know, on and
on, and on, and on.

We think when we
talk about what it

means to be a good
pilot that we're

talking about technical skills
and daring do and that laconic

voice and being able to fly
a plane through two canyons

and roll the plane
when-- but, in fact,

that has nothing to do with what
it means to be a good pilot.

What it means to
be a good pilot is

to be able to do what Ratwatte
was doing right, which

is to able to talk to all kinds
of different people in a very

open and honest
and persuasive way

and talk your way out of
this particular crisis.

So with that in mind, let's
think about what was going

on in the cockpit
of Avianca 052.

And I'm going to read for
you now the transcript--

a little bit of the transcript
from the flight recorder.

And this is when
they're going into JFK

for their first
abortive landing.

OK.

So Caviedes says-- remember,
they're in heavy fog.

Caviedes says, the runway--

where is it?

I don't see it.

I don't see it.

Comes in.

Can't see it, and
then they realize

they're not going to
be able to make it,

and they pull up and
pull up the landing gear

and they start their go around.

And the captain asks
Klotz, the copilot,

to ask air traffic control
for another traffic pattern.

And 10 seconds pass.

And Caviedes says, like
almost to himself--

he just kind of mutters to
himself, we don't have fuel.

And then 17 seconds pass.

Now, just to get a
sense of this, right,

we've just come from hearing
the story about a guy who had

a crisis that was this
much as serious as the one

that's in Avianca 052, and
he never stops talking for 40

minutes.

There's not a moment of
silence in the cockpit

of Ratwatte's plane.

We've just had 10
seconds of silence

between the captain muttering
about not enough fuel,

and now we have
another 17 seconds--

and we're going to do--
let's do the 17 seconds

just to understand
what this is like.

Ready?

The plane is-- the thing
is on empty, right,

you've just botched
your landing.

Nothing.

14, 15, 16, 17.

And then, Caviedes
says, I don't know

what happened with the runway.

I didn't see it.

Now that's in the past,
right, and they can't move on.

They're still kind
of thinking about--

they're not even thinking
about how to land the plane.

They're thinking about,
oh my goodness, we

botched the runway, right.

And then Klotz says--
finally Klotz, the one who's

supposed to be doing
the communicating

in this situation,
says, I didn't see it.

And then air traffic
control comes in

and tells them to
make a left turn.

And Caviedes says to Klotz--

he says, tell them--
tell air traffic control,

we are in an emergency.

And then Klotz says, to
air traffic control, that's

right to 180 on the heading
and we'll try again.

We're running out of fuel.

Now, let's go back to the scene
in the cockpit again, remember.

They had the fuel
gauge on empty.

They've blown their
shot at a landing.

They know that there
is a whole long line

of planes in the sky
above JFK waiting to land.

They're in crisis mode.

They're somewhere
out over Long Island.

And the captain is desperate,
and he says to Klotz, tell them

we are in an emergency.

He's panicking at
this point, properly.

And what does Klotz say?

Klotz says, "That's right
to 180 on the heading

and, uh, we'll try once again.

We're running out of fuel."

Now, first of all, that
phrase "running out of fuel"

has no meaning in the
world of aviation.

By definition, as
you're coming into land,

you're running out of fuel.

All planes run out of fuel at
the very end of their journey.

It doesn't mean anything.

If you hear that if you're
an air traffic controller

it doesn't check any boxes or
spark any special interest.

Now-- and also, think about
the structure of that sentence.

He starts that
critical sentence with

the routine acknowledgement
of the instructions.

And then in the second half
is where he puts his concern.

We're in crisis.

That's all wrong.

It would be as if you
are in a restaurant

and you say to
the waitress, I'll

have a refill on that coffee and
I'm choking on a chicken bone.

[LAUGHTER]

What's she going to do?

She's going to look at
you, like, oh, we're funny.

That's not the way we talk when
we're trying to communicate

about our situation.

Even the "uh" that he
puts between the two

halves of that sentence
is really important.

It serves to undercut
the seriousness

of what he's saying.

In fact, later
during the inquest,

they bring they bring in the
air traffic controllers who were

communicating with
Avianca 052 that night.

And they all say the
same thing, which

was, we had no idea
they were in trouble.

It's like, one of
them says, it sounded

like Klotz was
totally nonchalant

when he was talking to us.

There was nothing
in his tone of voice

or the structure
of his sentences

to suggest that something was
seriously amiss with the plane.

Now there's an actual
term that linguists

use to describe what was going
on, what Klotz was doing.

And it's called mitigation.

And mitigation is the word that
we use to describe situations

where people undercut the
seriousness of what they're

saying.

And all of us
mitigate all the time.

If you want your boss-- if
you're desperate for your boss

to read something you've
written and get back to you,

you don't say to
your boss, I need

you to read this now
and get back to me.

You say, if you have
time this weekend,

if you could look
this, it would--

I mean it's not a big
deal, but I would just--

I really-- that's mitigation.

[LAUGHTER]

And you do that for a reason.

If you said to your boss, I
need you to read this now,

you wouldn't be
employed much longer.

It's a very appropriate use of--

in that situation-- this kind of
social tool for communicating.

Now, normally, that's fine.

But in the aviation world
what people began to realize

was that--

they began to get
obsessed with mitigation

because they realized
that this was

a cause of a lot of
problems in the cockpit.

The cockpit was a
place where mitigation

wasn't an appropriate strategy.

Now let me give you an example.

So suppose that you and I are--

you're the pilot
and I'm the copilot.

And we're flying along and we
see that on the weather radar,

we see that 25
miles ahead, there's

a big ugly patch
of thunderstorms.

And air traffic control
has been telling us

over the course of
the last 10 minutes

about the really
choppy weather ahead.

But I notice that you--

you guys are the pilot--

that you're just flying
straight into it.

You haven't made any
attempt to kind of--

so I what I want to do
is to communicate to you

the fact that we really
should find a way of going

around the thunderstorms.

So how do I do it?

Now there are many
different strategies

that I could use
that differ in terms

of their level of mitigation.

So the first thing I would
say to you, which is zero

mitigation would be a command.

I could say, something
like, turn 30 degrees right.

It's a command.

Now that is wholly inappropriate
for me to say that to you,

really hard for me to say that,
because what I'm saying is,

I'm the boss, not you.

And I'm saying you're not a good
pilot, which is a hard thing

to say to someone who is
your superior in that notion.

So maybe I want to cut it
down just a little bit.

So I could make what they
call a crew obligation

statement, which--

I could say something
like, I think

we need to deviate
right around now.

Now that's softer.

"I think," and I use "we," and
instead of saying 30 degrees,

I just say, deviate
right around now.

A little more acceptable
for me to put it that way.

But that might also
be too much, so I

could take it down
one more notch,

and I could use a suggestion.

I could say, let's go
around the weather.

Right.

We're in this together.

Two-- you and me.

[LAUGHTER]

We're flying this plane.

Let's just go around.

That's a little softer.

But maybe even that's too hard.

So what if I could just
do a simple question.

I could just say,
which direction do you

want to deviate?

I'm assuming you're going
to deviate sooner or later,

you just--

are you going to
go right or left?

It's getting a little
bit more subtle.

Now maybe even
that's too strong.

Maybe I want to simply state
a preference, like, you know,

if it was up to me, I'd go left.

It's even softer.

And softest of all
would be the hints.

I could just say, boy, it
looks mean up there, right?

[LAUGHTER]

Now there is a world of
difference between turn

30 degrees right and boy, it
looks mean up there ahead.

World of difference.

In one case, I command an
action, a response from you.

And the last case, I give
you something so soft

that it's easy for
you to ignore it.

Well, this is what people
in the aviation world--

why people in the
aviation world became

obsessed with mitigation.

Because when they
started to listen

to the transcripts
of those black boxes,

what they began to understand
is that in the minutes and hours

before plane crashes,
what you saw was

lots and lots of mitigation.

That's what was going
on in the cockpit that

was causing all of
those errors was people

were too often relying on hints
and too infrequently using

the kind of language
that would compel action.

So, for example,
there's a famous crash--

Air Florida crash in
the 1980s in Washington.

And it was one of those wintry
days and it was sleeting.

And all the planes-- you
know how you get deiced,

well, the plane got
deiced, but they

were taking off at rush hour.

So they'll have a line of
like 15 planes in a row.

And this one was number 15.

So they've been deiced and
they're creeping forward,

and the sleet comes
down, and the ice

begins to reform on the wings.

So what happens is the copilot,
who has flown in bad weather

quite a lot, wants to tell the
pilot that this is not good,

we have to get deiced again.

So what does he say?

Well, he says-- he hints.

The first thing he
says is, look how

the ice is just hanging on
this back there, back there,

see that?

That's what he says.

It's a hint.

Total mitigation.

Just throwing it out there.

Look at that.

Ice.

He's hoping that the captain
kind of fills in the blanks.

And it doesn't work.

And they're starting
to creep forward.

They're no longer
15th for take off.

They're now ninth for takeoff.

And the ice is getting
a little bit thicker.

So he tries again.

He says, see all those
icicles on the back

there and everything?

Now he's like, icicles--

it's like he's trying to
ramp it up a little bit,

but it's still just a hint.

It just see those
icicles, I mean I don't--

just making conversation
up there in the cockpit.

[LAUGHTER]

Nothing happens.

A couple more minutes passed.

Now they've crept
up a little closer.

They're like fifth for takeoff.

And now the copilot is getting
a little bit concerned.

So what does he say?

He says, boy, this is a
losing battle here trying

to deice those things.

It gives you a false
sense of security.

That's all that does.

Still a hint.

A little stronger though,
like three sentences of hints,

but it still hints.

Nothing happens.

Pilot's ignoring him.

They've now crept up.

They're like number
two for takeoff.

And he starting to get
really, really worried.

So what does he do?

He upgrades.

He goes from a hint
to a suggestion.

He actually suggests
and actually says,

let's check those
tops again since we've

been sitting here a while.

Now he's suggesting action.

Finally, the captain
responds and says,

no, I think we get to
go here in a minute.

Just wants to take off.

So they get up for first in line
for landing and on the runway--

first in line for
takeoff, and they take off

on the south runway
at Washington Reagan.

And if you know this when
ice forms on your wings,

it diminishes your lift--

the plane's ability to take off
when it's really, really heavy

and take off.

So they take off and
then plane can't make it.

It starts to go down like this,
and the Potomac is right below.

They clip the 14th Street bridge
and as they're going down,

the copilot turns
to the captain,

and they have the first moment
of honest conversation--

honest, open communication
since the two of them

got into the cockpit.

And the copilot says, Larry,
we're going down, Larry.

And the captain says, I know it.

And, boom, plane crashes.

Now fighting
mitigation has become

one of the great crusades
in the airline world.

In fact, when you look at why
plane crashes have dropped

so dramatically over
the last 20 years,

it is principally because of
the success in retraining pilots

in how they talk--

how they talk to each other.

For example, this was never
the case before, but now very

often, pilots are required
to call each other

by their first names.

And the idea is if you're
talking to someone-- you're not

calling someone Captain Smith,
but rather calling him Jack,

you're more likely to
communicate openly with him.

Sometimes some
airlines have done away

with Captain and First Officer
or pilot and copilot entirely.

And they just talk
about the flying pilot

and the non-flying pilot.

Again, it's an attempt to
foster some kind of openness

and communication.

They also give
pilots scripts now.

You know how in Brown
and places like that,

they give freshmen boys all
those instructions about how

to make out with a girl?

Do you know about this?

I'm sure you do.

[LAUGHTER]

You know, like, can
I place my hand here?

Yes or no.

Can I move my hand
six inches lower?

Is that a yes?

Will you sign here?

That kind of stuff.

They do that with captains.

They give you scripts.

And if you're a copilot
and you're having trouble

communicating with your
captain, you take out the script

and then you just
read off the things.

And it's surprisingly
effective in creating

more open conversation in times
where the social context makes

open communication
difficult. This

has actually been one of
the great success stories

in the world of aviation.

OK.

So let's go back to
Avianca and let's

think about what was going
on in that cockpit in terms

of mitigation.

So they've just blown
the first landing,

and they're circling
around over Long Island,

and Klotz is on the phone
with air traffic control,

and he's trying to figure out
when they can land again--

the critical question.

And Caviedes turns to him
and he says, what did he say,

meaning what did air traffic
control just tell you?

And Klotz says, I already
advised him that we are going

to attempt again,
because now we can't--

and then he just--

his voice trails off.

And it's four
seconds of silence.

And then Caviedes says, advise
him we are in an emergency.

The second time he's said that.

Four more seconds pass.

Captain tries again.

He says, did you tell him?

And Klotz says, yes, sir,
I already advised him.

And then Klotz starts talking
to air traffic control.

He's going over really
routine details.

And he says to air
traffic control,

1-5-0 maintaining 2000,
Avianca 052 heavy.

And the captain
starts to freak out.

And he says, advise
him we don't have fuel.

So Klotz gets back on the
radio with air traffic control.

And he says, climb
and maintain 3,000

and, uh, we're running
out of fuel, sir.

There it is again.

Does not mention
the word emergency.

Now emergency, if
you're an air traffic

controller, that is the word
you are trained to listen for.

The minute someone says
emergency, you act.

Does Klotz use it?

No.

He just says, we're running
out of fuel, which by the way,

every single plane in the
air that night over JFK

was also doing.

And when does he say that
phrase running out of fuel?

Once again, in the second
half of the sentence preceded

by the mitigating uh.

He's mitigating.

Now a minute passes.

A minute.

And air traffic control says,
"And Avianca 052 [INAUDIBLE]..

I'm going to bring you
about 15 miles northeast

and then turn you back
into the approach.

Is that OK with
you and your fuel?"

And Klotz says, "I guess so.

Thank you very much."

I guess so.

Thank you very much.

They're about to crash.

Now what's going on here?

Why is he this way?

Well, one key fact is
they're at Kennedy.

And one thing you have
to know about Kennedy

is that air traffic
control at Kennedy

is famous throughout
the aviation world.

These are possibly the finest
air traffic controllers

in the world.

They have run one of the
busiest airports in the world

with an extraordinary safety
record over the last 50 years.

They are also the most obnoxious
air traffic controllers

in the world.

They are famous.

They are bullies.

They won't put up with anything.

Pilots have all kinds
of great stories,

and if you ask them to
tell you JFK stories,

they'll just-- an endless
number will come out.

And one I heard was, you
know, JFK is so crazy,

it's so large that
once you land,

it's really easy to get lost.

So there was a pilot
once, and he gets lost.

And he's trying to find
his way to the terminal.

And so he's like, he's just
bothering the air traffic

controller so much
for directions. ,

And, finally, she turns to him,
and she says on the radio--

and of course, you know, all
the pilots are listening in.

So the air traffic control turns
to him and she says, shut up.

Stay there.

Don't move.

I'll get back in touch
with you when I'm ready.

And then there's silence.

And then the pilot
says, ma'am, was

I'm married to you
in an earlier life?

[LAUGHTER]

So here we have--

[LAUGHTER]

So these guys are-- this
is what they're like.

They're total bullies.

They push you around,
and the only way

to get what you want, if you're
trying to land at Kennedy,

is to push back.

You've got to play their game.

And they will only
respect you if you're

willing to stand up to them and
say, look, this is my issue.

I need it to be
resolved right now.

And then they'll respond.

And that's what Klotz can't do.

He's intimidated.

That's what's going on here.

I guess so.

Thank you very much.

And that's what's so
puzzling about this,

because we can understand
intimidation and mitigation

when what you're trying to
do is avoid a thunderstorm 25

miles ahead.

You're going to survive
the thunderstorm.

We can even kind
of understand it

when we're in that plane on the
ground at Washington National,

because it is possible-- it's a
judgment call about whether you

want to get deiced.

It's not a sure thing the
plane's not going to make it.

And he was just kind
of worried, and one guy

had a risk threshold that
was a little bit higher

than the other.

It is really hard to
understand mitigation

when you're in a plane and
your fuel gauge is on empty

and you know you're going to
crash unless you do something

now.

So that's the puzzle.

Why is Klotz that way under
this most dire of circumstances?

So the answer, I think--

or one of the answers--

one useful way of
thinking about this

is to use the work
of this really

fascinating Dutch psychologist
named Geert Hofstede.

And he is a guy who works
for IBM in the 60s, when

IBM was this sort of
colossus, multinational all

over the globe.

And what Hofstede does is
he goes around the world,

and he gives people in
every one of the IBM offices

a very detailed
psychological questionnaire,

because he's trying to answer
the question of how should we

behave as a company differently
in different cultures.

Do we run IBM the
same way in Cape Town

as we do in Copenhagen?

That's what he's
trying to figure out.

And so he's dispatched
by the company

to go and try and get a read
on what it means to belong

to a particular local culture.

And he organizes this
enormous database

and comes up with a
set of what are called

Hofstede's dimensions,
which are now

famous in the world of
cross-cultural psychology.

They are ways of understanding
the ways in which the cultures

of the world differ.

So he comes up with a series
of dimensions-- continuum--

that he says are the easiest
way to categorize differences

among cultures.

So one of them, for example,
is individualism, collectivism.

And he says, all of the
countries of the world

exist somewhere
along this continuum.

So for example, the most
collectivistic culture

in the world according
to Hofstede is Guatemala.

The most individualistic
culture in the world

according to Hofstede
is the United States,

which makes sense.

Why are we the only
industrialized nation

in the world not to have
national health insurance?

Because we are individual.

One of the definitions of
individualism is to what extent

do you feel responsible
for the welfare of someone

other than yourself?

That's the definition.

And we feel less
responsible for the welfare

of people other than ourselves
than any other country

in the world.

It makes sense,
that fits with our--

Another one of his dimensions
is uncertainty avoidance,

which is how tolerant is
a culture of ambiguity.

You know, when things go hairy,
and there's a big crisis,

are you willing to be flexible
or do you adhere to the rules--

to the kind of principles
that you laid down beforehand?

And what he finds once
again is that there's

wide differences among
cultures along that dimension.

So the countries
of the world who

are the least
tolerant of ambiguity,

who are the most
willing, most keen

on sticking to the rules
regardless of circumstance

are Greece, Portugal,
Guatemala, Uruguay, and Belgium.

The five countries of the
world at the other end

of the spectrum-- the most
tolerant of ambiguity--

are Hong Kong, Sweden,
Denmark, Singapore, and then

the last will come
as no surprise to me

since my family is from there--

Jamaica.

Now it's really important to
understand that Hofstede is not

making a value judgment here.

He's not saying it's
better to be here

on the continuum than there.

He's just saying,
look, this is just one

of the ways in which
cultures differ,

and it's a way for
us to understand

when we're dealing
with that culture what

their frame of reference is.

And he's saying that, look,
that these things are also

pretty specific-- that cultures
have dramatic differences

along these lines.

So when we look at
that list of five,

you can see that Belgium
is one of the least

tolerant of
ambiguity and Denmark

is one of the most
tolerant of ambiguity.

Well, Belgium and Denmark are
two northern European countries

that are pretty close together
that eat roughly the same food

that have architecture
that's kind of the same

that have been Democratic
for an awful long time

that you would think
as a stranger going in,

it must be pretty similar in
culture along these culture

dimensions.

And Hofstede is
saying, no, they're

actually profoundly different.

That on this dimension,
Denmark has more in common

with Jamaica, and Belgium has
more in common with Guatemala.

That's really an interesting--
a fascinating insight.

Now of all of
Hofstede's dimensions,

though, the most interesting
and crucial for our purposes

is something he
calls power distance.

And power distance is a measure
of a country's orientation

towards hierarchy.

And he measures power
distance by asking

questions like, how
likely in your culture

is it for a subordinate
to express agreement

with a superior?

How much do you guys in
your culture respect this?

How much do you venerate
somebody or hold someone up

because they are older
or have more experience

or are of higher
social standing?

How common is it--
how important is

it for people in
positions of power

to downplay or accentuate the
difference in their status

and the status of
everybody else?

And he says, look,
there's huge differences.

So, for example, he says in
low power distance countries,

you see political
leaders very consciously

trying to hide their power.

So he says, if you go to
Austria, for example--

very low power
distance country--

you can see-- he would
say, I would go to Austria

and I would see the
prime minister of Austria

taking a streetcar to work.

That's what you do in a
low power distance culture.

He said also, I would--
he said, he would go to--

he was once on holiday in Spain
and he saw the prime minister

of the Netherlands in one of
those vacation trailer parks.

It's like, that's--
the Netherlands is one

of the lowest power distance
countries in the world.

That's what you do if
you're the prime minister

of the Netherlands.

You try to act like as normal
a person as you possibly can.

And he says, compare this to--

France is a very, very high
power distance culture.

He says, what are the
odds you would ever

see the president of France
in a trailer park in Spain?

[LAUGHTER]

Zero.

It's not going to happen.

And that's a profound
difference between two countries

that, by the way, are right
next door to each other.

So now when people
in the aviation world

hear about power distance,
their eyes grow wide,

because they say, you know
what, that's exactly what we've

been talking about.

We are concerned with
nothing more than the issue

of the likelihood of a
subordinate expressing

disagreement with a superior.

So they suddenly realize,
ah, this completely

helps us to understand--

how both to understand and
to combat plane crashes.

This concept, they realize,
says that in a culture

that has a high power distance--

in a culture that
respects hierarchy,

the task of combating
mitigation will be a lot harder.

And, similarly, in
fact, they say, look,

it should be possible,
in fact, to understand

the likelihood of a culture's
having a plane crash just

by looking at the level of
that culture's power distance.

And, in fact, there's
a very famous paper

done in the 1980s,
where they simply

list all of the
countries of the world

according to their plane
crashes per capita,

and they list all of the
countries of the world

according to the power
distance of their pilots,

and they discovered that the two
lists are basically the same.

That this is the
most powerful way

to understand the likelihood
of a particular airline having

a crash.

So which countries
have the lowest power

distance and the lowest
plane crashes per capita?

Well, the countries
that you would expect.

We already talked about
Austria, the United States,

very low power distance,
Australia, classic low power

distance.

Israel, right?

It's one of the most low power
distance places on earth.

Can you imagine an Israeli
subordinate having difficulty

expressing disagreement
with his superior?

[LAUGHTER]

In fact,
parenthetically, someone

was telling me that one of the
big problems with Israeli army

patrols on the West
Bank, where they're

going in very
stealthily at night

is that the leader
of the patrol just

can't get the people who are
supposed to be his subordinates

to shut up, because
they're constantly like,

no, no, let's not go that way.

No, no, no.

Anyway.

So that's--

And what are the countries--

what is one of
the countries that

has one of the highest levels
of power distance in the world?

Columbia.

In fact, the Kennedy crash
is not the first time

that Avianca, the national
airline of Columbia,

has had this particular
kind of accident.

In fact, after that crash they
have a kind of investigation.

And they go over
the fact that they

had had four crashes
in quick succession

in that period, all of which
took exactly the same form.

These were crashes where the
plane was in perfect working

order, where the pilots weren't
sick or whatever, where there

wasn't some massive mistake
from air traffic control, where

there wasn't some massive
technological failure,

but still the planes crashed.

Why?

Because there was a social
breakdown between the pilot

and the copilot.

In fact, there was
a crash in Madrid,

and I'll just quote
you the two lines

from the event from the
conclusion of the crash--

from the report on the crash.

And it was this
case of the copilot

saw something and
tried to bring it

to the attention of
the pilot and failed.

And the report said, the copilot
was right, but they died--

the plane crashed-- because when
the copilot asked questions,

his implied suggestions
were very weak.

The captain's reply was
to ignore him totally.

This was a kind of endemic
problem at Avianca.

The problem that night, in
other words, in that cockpit

was not merely one
of Klotz's inability

to communicate
effectively with Caviedes.

It was a problem about
Avianca's problem

of the inability of copilots
to communicate with pilots.

And even more than
that, it was a symptom

of a culture's inability to
allow subordinates to openly

question their superiors.

This plane crash cannot be
understood just individually.

It has to be understood
as part of a much

larger cultural context.

Now it is very easy,
I think, to find

this kind of talk offensive.

We don't like to
talk about cultures

having traits like this.

We find that kind of language
and that line of argument

to be problematic
and with good reason,

because so often I think that
kind of cultural stereotyping

is used to harm.

But one of the arguments
I make in this book--

I hope persuasively--
is that there

are times and occasions where
we have to talk about cultures

in that way, because cultures
play such an important role

in how we behave
and how we think

and how we go about
doing our jobs.

And if we want to
make people better

at those kinds of
things, we have

to be willing and honest
enough to confront

our cultural legacies,
and say, this

is an area where my culture
does not do a good job

and this is an area where my
culture does do a good job.

Unless we're willing to have
that kind of conversation,

I think that we leave all
kinds of problems on the table.

So back to Klotz.

You have to understand
where he's from.

You have to
understand if you want

to understand what
happened to that plane

that night that he comes
from a culture that is deeply

hierarchical, where it is very
difficult for a subordinate

to speak openly to a superior.

Where leaders are
supposed to lead.

And what's going on
that night in the plane?

His leader isn't leading.

Caviedes-- the man
who is supposed

to be in charge of this
plane-- is exhausted.

He can barely listen
or hear any-- yes,

everything has to
be repeated to him.

He's at the end of his tether.

He's been rowing this
boat around the sky

for an hour and a half.

So Klotz is all by himself.

And then he's dealing with
the Kennedy controllers.

And what are they like?

They are these totally low
power distance, obnoxious,

bullying New Yorkers.

And he's trying to tell
them that he's in trouble,

but he's using his
own cultural language.

The kind of language that
says when you try and say

that kind of thing,
you mitigate.

But who are these controllers?

They come from a completely
different cultural context,

and when they hear
someone mitigate,

they don't think that person
is being appropriately

deferential to authority.

They think that person
doesn't have a problem.

So there's this
incredible moment

in the transcript where the
kind of cultural disconnect

between Klotz and the
air traffic controllers

gets so stark that it's
almost painful to read.

It's the last exchange between
Avianca and air traffic

control.

And it's just-- the
crash is minutes away.

And Klotz has just
said, I guess so.

Thank you very much, in response
to the controller's question

about their fuel state.

And Caviedes turns the Klotz,
and he says, what did he say,

meaning what did the
controller just tell you.

Now understand again, they are--

this is at the very,
very end of the flight,

and they are in this
foggy, windy night,

and they're somewhere
out over Long Island,

and the fuel gauge is at empty.

And one of the flight
attendants, who-- actually,

we know this story
because she survived,

one of the few survivors-- comes
into the cockpit at that moment

to ask what's going on.

And she asked the
flight engineer,

and he just goes like this.

They know that
it's kind of over.

And then there's Klotz, and
he's absolutely at wits' end,

because he has been trying,
using his own cultural language

to communicate the seriousness
of the plane's state

to air traffic control,
and he realizes

he has completely failed.

He's completely failed.

And the only way that he
can make sense of that--

the only way he can make
sense of his failure

is to assume that he has somehow
offended air traffic control.

So Caviedes says to him, what
did he say, what did the air

traffic controller say?

And Klotz in this little
small voice, he says,

the guy is angry.

And then the flight
engineer says,

flame out on engine number four.

And then Caviedes says,
where's the runway?

Because he thinks maybe he
can bring a plane in to land,

but he can't because they're
miles and miles away.

And then the flight transcript
after that there's two minutes

of nothing but static and the
last thing you hear is air

traffic control comes on
and says, Avianca 052,

do you have enough fuel
to make the runway?

Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]

I think we have time
for a few questions.

Unless I've spooked you all.

[LAUGHTER]

Is the-- oh, there's the mic.

Right?

This is back to Outliers,
just a question about that.

I was just curious in the book
where you talk about the 10,000

hours of needing practice.

And I know you don't
call yourself an outlier,

but I think all of us would say
you are extremely successful,

and I was just
wondering, what are some

of the cultural background
that you would say contributed

to your success?

Or how would you answer that?

This is-- for those
who haven't read

the book there's a
section in the book where

I talk about what it takes
to be good at something,

and how there's something--
psychologists have sort of come

up with this idea
that in an incredibly

large number of cases, it
seems like in order to master

a complex task, you
need to practice

for about 10,000 hours, which is
four hours a day for 10 years.

So the question was do I
have such a 10,000 hour

period in my life?

It's actually besides that.

Oh, outside of that.

Outside of that.

Oh, dear.

I'm not very good at answering
autobiographical questions,

but did I have a
cultural-- well, I mean,

I grew up in a house where--

I realized, I guess, that
in retrospect my parents

are borderline workaholics.

But that seemed like
a really good thing.

So maybe growing up in an
atmosphere that venerated work

in that way was important.

Thank you very much.

So one of the examples you
use in your book of people

who practiced well
was my favorite rock

band, the Beatles,
and I'm just curious--

I understand how their
practice in Hamburg

increased their
technical skills,

but it strikes me their
long term success was more

from their ability to
innovate in a sustained way.

And I was wondering,
do you think

that came from practice
or something else?

Yes, so this is a reference
along the same lines.

I talk about the Beatles and
how before they come to America,

they had this extraordinary
sojourn in Hamburg, Germany,

where they're the house
band in a strip club

and they play eight-hour
sets, seven days a week

for months at a stretch.

And that's really where they
get their 10,000 hours in.

And so the question was
to what extent can we

credit that apprenticeship
for their ability to innovate?

I think you can credit it a lot.

You know, what innovation is--

innovation comes when you have
mastered a particular field

well enough to be
able to understand

all of its possibilities.

It's very difficult
to innovate when

you don't know what
to innovate or when

you don't know what's wrong
with the existing paradigm.

And they are, as rock bands go,
a profoundly well-educated rock

band because of their--

I mean they had played
together 1,200 times

by the time they
come to America.

You know, you would
be hard pressed

to find a band today at that
age that has played together

half that many times.

Played together live.

Performed live 1,200
times by the time they're

in their very early 20s.

That's astonishing.

And I think that it's
much easier to see--

to understand how to
innovate when you've

got that kind of background.

[INAUDIBLE]

I recently discovered and
started devouring the podcasts

on the TED website, and
you know, immediately,

when you see it, you want
to become part of the event.

But what I slowly
started to realize

is that it's probably
easier to get invited

to speak than it is to get
a ticket in the audience,

especially with a
10-year waiting list,

you know, on the
premise of your book,

I could spend 10,000
hours and perfect a skill

and then get invited.

So I was just curious
if you had any tips

on how to convince
the members of TED

to invite you to the talk?

[LAUGHTER]

No.

I haven't even been invited
back since I did that,

so I'm in the same
predicament as you are.

So if I hear anything from them,
I'll be sure to pass it along.

[LAUGHTER]

I really enjoy your books and
I hope you keep writing them.

My question is about women,
or actually the lack of them

in the first half of Outliers.

When you profile both
individuals and groups

of people who have
had success, they're

all male examples,
which is not surprising

because of those
who have had access

to success in our
society, et cetera,

and the notable
exception is Marita

at Kipp Academy, who's
a student and whose

success may be before her.

So when you talk about the
ideal year for a male who

wants to earn a fortune in
America to be born being 1835,

do you think that the age
of the woman is before us?

And is that here in our decade?

Is it ahead of us?

What do you think
about female success?

Yeah.

Yeah, I mean you're
absolutely right.

There is an absence of women
in the first half of this book.

And it would have been
dishonest to put them in.

And my whole
argument in the book

is that success is a
function of opportunities

that are granted by society.

And we have, as you point
out, over the last--

going back as long as
there's been human history,

hugely disproportionately
granted those opportunities

to men.

And, I think, one of the ways we
gloss over that fact is by when

we tell stories about success
pretending there's as many

women out there as
men, and there aren't.

Because we just haven't--

you know, success is
not a simple function

of people's ability.

It's a function of
ability plus these--

but do I think that will change?

I certainly hope
so, and I certainly

hope if I were to write another
version of this book in 40

years--

God forbid-- you would tell
a very different story.

But I mean, you
know, when I was--

it's so interesting,
you know, I tell

the story of Jewish
lawyers in New York,

for example, their rise.

Well, you can't find
any-- in that cohort,

there are no women.

It's sort of amazing.

Like there was this
group beautifully poised

to take on a profession
for reasons that I explain,

and yet all of
those opportunities

were granted to 50% of
the group's population.

I mean, it's just sort of like--

what it is is a kind of
reminder of how tragically

we have underutilized the
talents of our population.

Yeah, even Bill Gates'
school is an all boys school.

I looked that up.

I was curious about it.

So it's the same thing.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Yup.

Hello.

So I haven't read your
most recent book, yet,

so you might have already
answered this question.

But there's a theorist named
Robert Trivers who writes

a lot about self-deception.

I think he actually cited
the same story about the guys

with the deicing on their wings.

And his idea is that we
can deceive ourselves

into believing that
everything's OK when it's not.

So I was wondering if you
think that concept works

with your cultural
ideas about how

people can deceive themselves
into taking off then crashing.

Yeah.

Well, yeah, so in this--

to apply that to this--
what I'm talking about,

maybe part of what's happening
in a high power distance

culture is part of the deception
is that the hierarchy will

take care of you.

That the hierarchy knows more--
like the person higher up

the chain knows more than you.

And so you don't have to
assert yourself in that way.

Whereas the assumption the
low power distance cultures

is that being
higher on the ladder

is actually a more
random fact than a fact

that speaks to a
meaningful difference

in ability or judgment.

So there's that element of--

perhaps there's an additional
element of self-deceit

in high power distance worlds.

That being said, you know,
it is important to point out

that a high power distance
is not always a bad thing.

Like a lot of that
chapter of my book

is concerned with Korea,
which is a very, very, very

high power distance
culture, which

has had all kinds
of consequences

for Korean aviation.

They've really struggled
with this issue in the air.

But in all kinds of other
areas of Korean life,

the high power distance notion
has been enormously useful.

I mean a country does
not go from being

in ruins at the end of the
Korean War to being one

of the most powerful
economic forces in the world

in the space of half
a century unless it

has cultural ideas that support
this enormous organization

and effort and an order.

So I hesitate to kind
of describe hierarchy

in entirely negative terms.

I think it can be a wonderful
thing, just not in a cockpit.

Thanks.

It seems that a lot of what
you're talking about here

are things that are out
of people's control--

the role that luck plays
in success, the culture

we come from, and what
we've been raised with,

where we're at.

Given that the other factor--

the amount of practice we have
to work on our abilities--

is something that we can
choose to engage with,

are there any
prescriptions-- is there

anything we can choose to
do to deal with the culture

that we come from and how it
interacts with other cultures?

So this is a good question.

And to my annoyance,
some reviewers of my book

have accused me of being
a cultural determinist.

In fact, I'm the opposite.

So the culture that
we come from is

only deterministic
of our behavior

if we choose to ignore it.

If you never address-- so the
chapter that I was talking

about it not in my talk--

the plane crash chapter.

It's really about Korean
Air, and how Korean Air

goes from being an
airline that almost gets

pushed out of business
because it has so many plane

crashes to being
one of what is now

today one of the premier
airlines in the world.

And they transformed themselves
over the last 10 years

precisely because they say--

they decide at long last to
confront their cultural legacy

and deal with it.

And what they discover is if
they are honest and open about

the fact that in this particular
instance-- the cockpit--

acting like you're a
"Korean" is not a good idea,

then you can change it.

And they do.

They take that airline
from-- literally,

it was this close to
not existing anymore,

and it is now an absolutely
world class airline.

And what they showed--
and I continue

this theme in the second
half of the book--

is once we can talk about
and confront culture,

we can change culture.

We're not prisoners of it.

We're only prisoners of it if
we pretend it doesn't exist.

And this is my great
objection to the way

we deal with so-called "cultural
stereotypes" in this society.

That we have decided
that it is always better

to ignore them in the interest
of avoiding those few cases

where they are misused.

And that's a shame, because--

for example, I have
another chapter

in the book, which
talks about math--

learning math-- and points
out that Asian schoolchildren

vastly outperform their
Western counterparts at math.

So the question-- now
flip the question,

if they can learn from
us about flying planes,

can we learn from
them about doing math?

And the answer is yes, we can.

And, in fact, our culture--

Western culture is
sorely deficient

when it comes to giving
kids the emotional equipment

necessary to achieve at
high school calculus.

We do a terrible
job of it, and they

do a really good job of it.

And we can-- does that mean that
we are prisoners of that notion

here in the West?

No.

And, in fact, I talk about
how there are schools--

the Kipp schools,
which many of you

will be familiar with, these
charter school movement--

Kipp Academy is
essentially just an attempt

to set up an Asian school in
the middle of the inner city.

That's what is.

It's like, can we get
disadvantaged Hispanic and

African-American kids to behave
like Korean schoolchildren

when they do the math?

And the answer is, yes you can.

It's not that hard.

You just have to be determined
about it and honest about it

and say, we haven't prepared
these kids culturally properly

for what they're doing.

So what I would like
to do is I think

that we should look
upon cultural legacies

as a big smorgasbord, and
we should just say, look,

you know these
people do this well,

and these people do this
well, and let's just

have a one-- let's assume that
everyone has something to teach

us and that way
we can get around

the trap of assuming that
there is a kind of hierarchy

of cultures.

Or-- anyway, so.

[APPLAUSE]

[INAUDIBLE]