A story on Geniuses Born vs Made

Almost every week I get asked one of those existential questions sometimes people ponder about, such as "Are geniuses born or made", or its variant "Is intelligence and talent inborn or can it be taught?" I was having dinner with a client a couple of nights ago, and as we discussing the ability of some people to comprehend and understand work problems, my client inquired my opinion about this matter.

Everytime I get asked this question, I always give the same answer: I use the example of my friend Raul.

The year was 1995 and it was the first day of "getting to know each other week" in college. With a 5% acceptance rate, it's safe to say that I studied at the university where I would get to meet the smartest people in the country. The top. The elite. La crème-de-la-crème of every high-school. The kids with the highest GPA and the Math, Physics and Chemistry Olympic medal recipients. How many of them would be as smart as me? Would there be anyone smarter than me? I know these statements are a bit cocky and pretentious, but I swear that was exactly what I was thinking on the first day, and most likely, what pretty much every other student was thinking as well. Also, I want to build context on what I'm about to share.

We were divided into three blocks: morning, mid-morning and afternoon. Each block was divided into sections, with my section being assigned to a classroom where we sat down to proceeded to introduce each other. Most of the introductions would go like this:

-"Hi, my name is John. I studied at x high-school. My GPA was x (really high). I'm an Math Olympics medalist. I also have the following extra-curricular activities in my resume, and did this, this, and that."

-"Hi, my name is Mary. I studied at x high-school. My GPA was x (really high). I'm an Physics Olympics medalist. I also have the following extra-curricular activities in my resume, and did this, this, and that."

...and so on.

Of course not everyone was a geek olympics medalist, but still, almost everyone had other fantastic extra-curricular activities to compensate. One of the students was a short-bulky looking dude. Had he not been seating with us, you could have easily mistake him for a construction worker: he was sweaty, his forearms and hands were huge as if he worked operating a driller every day, and he talked loudly with a gruesome voice. He kind of looked like an orc from Lord of The Rings. I'm dead serious. His introduction was:

-"Hi, my name is Raul. I went to military school in (some random unknown town from the country). My GPA was x (it was high). And that's it. Sorry, I have nothing else to brag about."

The way he said that last part was funny and everyone else got a laugh of it. One could say they sort of laughed with him and at him as well. At the end of the day, everyone kind of had an idea of everyone else in the group. Everyone kind of had an idea of who could be smart and who could be REALLY smart. Also, everyone kind of had an idea of who would either dropout or would be expelled. Almost everyone thought that Raul, having studied in military school in some random town and with no extra-curricular background, was belonged in the latter group.

As classes began, study groups began to form and Raul wasn't studying in any of them. He then hooked up with some of the misfit students who also were labeled as potential dropouts. Math -by far the toughest subject of the first term- was evaluated in three exams: a first one worth 20 points, a second one worth 35 and a third one worth 45 points. You needed to accumulate 50 points of of 100 to pass the subject. The first exam came on and Raul got 12 out of 20. The exam was quite hard, and the average grade was 8 out of 20, which meant that not only Raul passed, but he actually did quite better than the average. Nothing too impressive, but interesting, considering his background. Then the second exam came, and Raul got an 18 out of 35. The exam's difficulty was similar to the first one, and the average grade was 15. Again Raul, both barely passed and did slightly better than the average student. With the third and final exam was worth 45 points, Raul had to get 20 out of 45, which considering the trend, was do-able. However, the third exam was rumored to be the hardest of all three. To put things into context, my friend got a 15 out of 20 in the first exam, and an 18 out of 35 in the second, meaninig he needed 17 out of 45 to pass.

In one of those life reasons that make our existence interesting, Raul bonded with a friend of mine and myself, and for about three weeks, we formed a trio study group. After a few sessions, it became clear to my friend and to me, that Raul was not dumb at all, and that it hadn't been luck or cheat the fact that he had surprinsingly passed both the first and second exams -and even did better than the average-. We both acknowledged that Raul was actually smart and that he could even be in our level. Kind of figuring that Raul was smart, we kind of wondered why he hadn't done better in the first two exams. His answer was: "I had never been taught that in school. Most of the questions were filled with stuff I had never seen before. I had to figure out everything all by my self."

This was interesting because it set the tone of how Raul studied with my friend and me. While my friend and me were studying the content that would be evaluated in the final exam, Raul studied the actual theory preceeding the entire subject, including going back to content of the first and second exams. I can't recall him studying anything for the third exam. He was focused on building a strong theoretical base for him to actually understand the math of what was being taught. In the end, back then, I felt I was as well prepared for the third exam as Raul was. Maybe Raul was slightly better prepared because of his focus on building that base theory, but only by a tiny tiny bit. My friend, felt the same way about himself, and himself compared to Raul.

Then the day of the final exam arrived and the test was placed on my desk. It was 9:30 am and I vividly remember, I felt I had just been handed a wrong exam, like maybe something from Sophomore Math or at least from a more advanced class different than the class were I was. I looked around the classroom and the look of confussion was the same as mine in the rest of the students -and some even worse-. I tried to make sense of the questions and tried to answer them to the best of my abilities. I remember that at one point the professor left and I turned around to the person sitting behind me and asked him "dude, do you even understand question #4?" and he gave me this look of frustration, as if he had been handed a newspaper that was written in arabic.

I was sitting on the right of the auditorium. Raul was sitting on the first row, to the very left. I remember looking over where he was, and I saw him writing sort of in what appeared to me as a desperate way. He was moving his pencil quickly and never looked up or paused for a second. I figured he was desperate. Needing 20 points out of 45 in this god forsaken incredibly impossible exam, he was probably worried that we would fluke and be expelled, so he was probably writing the most he could to squeeze those 20 points out of somewhere.

Prior entering the exam, most of the freshmen made an agreement, not to talk about the final exam until the publication of the grades -which was the very next day at precisely 9:30 am-. So as the exam ended, we went out and had a party at some guy's house or something. We drank ourselves out to make those 24 hours go as fast (or slow) as we could.

The next day, we were once again reunited in the same place. The professor walked in and said "I didn't have time to post the actual grades, but I can give you your exams and you can do the math to see who passed and who didn't."

Out of 45 points, the average grade was 11 points, which meant the exam was one huge slaughter. Over 80% of the mid-morning block failed the course. The group in my classroom was filled with tears and crying students. Others were still half-drunk from the party of the night before, still trying to grasp the reality of the situation. My friend -the one I had been studying with-, came over me and after sharing our results, he said:

-"Can you believe Raul?"
-"What do you mean, what happened? Did he fail badly?
-"No dude. He got 41"

I couldn't believe my ears. I got up immediately and went over his desk. He was still sitting, staring at his exam with a look of satisfaction I'll never forget. As I approached him, the professor was on his way out, and he told Raul: "Congratulations. This was the best exam in the entire faculty." Without even saying hi, I asked Raul to hand me his exam, and I just couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing.

That desperate writing I had seen, was in fact no desperation at all. There wasn't any sign of improvisation, or disorder anywhere. It was like the writing of a symphony. There wasn't a scratch, a stain, a correction, not even an eraser mark. Nothing. It was literally, like someone had been dictating him what to write. What's funny is he didn't get the full 45 points, because in one of the answers as he was simplifying the final equation, he forgot to write two terms. I think it was because he was short in time and he probably just moved past them, because it was a really stupid miss, that had not been made, he would have had a perfect score. Not only his 41 was the highest grade of the block, it was the highest grade of all three blocks. He beat nerds and geeks with the highest high school GPA, he beat the olympic medalists, he beat the extra-curricular heavy resumes, and he beat me.

Raul went on to have a very successful college life, playing sports and socializing, while barely even studying for any exams. As time progressed and we got into more advanced classes, it became clear to me that that 41 out of 45 had been no accident, just like the 12 and the 18 hadn't been. The 41 was the result of Raul's intelligence engaging theoretical concepts in a way that his mind could interpret any practical application, by keen understanding and disecting of its associated elements.

So why do I say all of this? Because to answer the original question, and having contextualized what kind of environment surrounded Raul -including the people he is being measured against-, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that genius, talent or intelligence is a naturally born acquired skilled. It's within you. It comes with you in your package.

Back in retrospective and the way I look at it now, I have to admit Raul was not slightly better prepared than me for the final exam. He was way, way better prepared than me. Actually he was miles ahead. Once he was able to actually be familiar with the content of the course, he understood the theory of every theorem and concept that was taught.

I have never seen since, such an amazing display of brilliance as the one I witnessed in the final exam by Raul.

Think Before You Act (Oscars Best Picture Mistake)

"Ok folks, ugh..."

"Someone gave me the information. I read it"

"I opened the envelope and it said Emma Stone, La La Land"

If you don't recognize them, these three quotes correspond to the announcing of Miss Universe 2015, Trump's last week's press conference, and last night's Best Picture mix up. All three events can be considered as high stakes, with a lot of vital information that can set new trends worldwide, depending on the magnitude of their impact.

Now let's go over what happened last night at the 2017 Oscars, first, what the audience saw:

Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway took the stage, with Warren carrying the Best Picture envelope (at least that's what everyone thought he was carrying). He proceeds to open the envelope and after a few seconds, he looked a bit confused. He looked at the Faye, at the envelope again, at the audience, at the envelope again, at Faye again, then at the audience again. Most of the audience took it as he was trying to pull some sort of joke for dramatic effect. I even thjnk Faye thought that too and she kind of lost her patience, so Warren hands her the card to read, to which she immediately proclaimed "La La Land" as the winner. As the producers made their way up to the stage, Warren and Faye moved back to let them grab the microphone and throw their thank you speeches. Not long passed, until finally someone realized the mistake and acted on it.

Now let's go over what happened, with all the information I have gathered:

Two PwC partners had a set of envelopes at opposite sides of the stage. One of the partners, Brian Cullinan, was tweeting a few seconds before Warren Beatty would take the stage and after finishing his social media interaction, he handed Warren the envelope for Best Actress, instead of the Best Picture. At no point Mr. Cullinan realized he still had a Best Picture envelope with him and Warren was about to open a wrong one.

On the stage just about to announce the winner, Warren opens the envelope and he silently reads "Emma Stone - La La Land." I can only speculate what went over his mind:

• Hmmm, this says Emma Stone. Isn't she the actress?
• Wow, oh wait, did Emma Stone produce this film?
• It took me fifty years to become a producer, I didn't know Emma Stone was a producer already!
• This is probably some sort of mix-up or misprint. They must have printed Emma's name, instead of the actual producers. There must be no other explanation, this is the Best Picture winner card.
• Or is it?
• Hello? Can somebody help?
• Faye?

Faye Dunaway didn't know what to make up of Warren's hesitation with the card, and as soon as she could get a glimpse of whatever was written on the card, she didn't hesitate and with no doubt she read out loud "La La Land." Two and a half speeches in a timespan of over two minutes later, finally Jordan Horowitz -one of "La La Land"'s producers- in a very gracious and incredible gesture, took the microphone and said "guys, there's a mistake. Moonlight, you guys won best picture." Meanwhile, Jimmy Kimmel -the host- stood there like an idiot, trying to make sense of the situation in his brain.

After seeing many mix-ups -including the mentioned three-, it makes me wonder whether if we are entering an era in which making mistakes at a high-profile situation is becoming normal, and more importantly, it can be passed without any consequences, or if we have lost the sense of what has to be done for something to be done the right way.

Let's face it: had Steve Harvey read the Miss Universe card, there would have been any mix-up at all. Just like, had Trump verified by any means that his electoral vote margin wasn't the largest since Reagan.

Beatty tried to fix things before Dunaway announced the wrong winner. He possibly knew he had the wrong envelope, or at least he probably figured that something was wrong with the envelope. He paused but he didn't stop, and that's when things go bad in business. It was worse for Faye, because she didn't even pause. She just acted without thinking, looking to get the job done as quick as possible. Faye assumed everything was perfect, and in all sense, who could blame her?

The true responsibility lies with PriceWaterhouseCoopers, the accounting firm that is incharge of managing the envelopes.

So what can we conclude of all this mess:

Take in account your environment and the variables that surround you. Know your implications and eventual results of your actions. Lead, take the initiative. If you see something wrong, point it right away and don't let it slip hoping for the best.

In short, think before you act.