Practice, practice, practice makes…
A story about the misguided pursuit of perfection in life and design
Today, many of are caught in perfectionism’s grip, chasing an impossible ideal that leaves us feeling unfulfilled over and over. The constant pressure to meet unreachable standards breeds anxiety and self-doubt, especially in a culture that celebrates achievement above all else. But perfection itself remains elusive — a shifting target that means something different to each person who pursues it. This raises the question: is the endless quest for perfection worth sacrificing our peace of mind and happiness?
Social media has only intensified this struggle. As we scroll through carefully curated highlights of others’ lives, we’re bombarded with manufactured flawless images that make our own reality feel inadequate. The endless opportunity for comparison drives us to polish our online presence, seeking likes and validation to fill an emotional void. Yet this digital pursuit of perfection often leaves us feeling more alone and insufficient than before.
The yearning for perfection is oh so enticing — that rosy picture, that daydream, the fantastical answer to the question, “What would I do if I won a $1.7 billion Powerball jackpot?” Despite the awareness that perfection is an unattainable endpoint, its magnetic pull persists. This raises the ultimate question: What is perfection, and why does its pursuit hold such sway over us?
Let’s start with the first question. What is perfection?
As seen above, the first definition from Merriam-Webster.com is “the quality or state of being perfect: such as freedom from fault or defect.” Or the third part, “the state of being saintly.”
True perfection would mean something entirely free of flaws or mistakes — a nearly impossible ideal. What seems perfect to one person may be deeply flawed to another, as our standards are shaped by our unique experiences, preferences, and expectations. This makes perfection not just difficult, but essentially unreachable. Worse still, the relentless pursuit of it often breeds anxiety and a paralyzing fear of failure.
Yet the allure of perfection remains as dangerous as a siren’s song drawing sailors toward rocky shores. We chase it because it represents our highest aspirations — for ourselves, our work, and our lives. The promise of perfection whispers that with it will come happiness, success, and fulfillment. It offers the comfort of absolute certainty in an uncertain world.
But whose version of perfect are we actually pursuing? Mine? Yours? A client’s? The very concept shifts like a mirage on the horizon, meaning something different to everyone who seeks it. Does perfect mean groundbreaking originality? Massive user adoption? Pure aesthetic beauty?
And how does practice fit into all this?
The second part of the definition states “supreme excellence,” but let’s strip away the adjective (or any modifiers) and focus on the concept of excellence itself. Like any skill, excellence grows from simple roots — starting with functional work, building competence, and reaching higher through practice. We create exceptional work by improving what came before, but only after taking the crucial step of sharing our work with the world. More on that ahead.
Rather than chasing perfection, we should set our own markers of success. This means establishing clear goals, both personal and shared with our teams. Using iteration as our engine, we can steadily improve while measuring progress against specific targets. This cycle of refinement, guided by concrete metrics, drives us toward real achievement far more effectively than pursuing an impossible ideal.
As we delve into the notion of iteration, it’s hard to resist a classic joke that captures this principle. You’ve probably heard it before:
How do you get to Carnegie Hall?
Practice, practice, practice.
It sidesteps the actual directions to 881 Seventh Avenue and instead revealing the true path to performing at this legendary venue: relentless dedication to one’s craft. Since opening its doors in 1891, Carnegie Hall has hosted some of music’s most unforgettable moments — from Benny Goodman breaking racial barriers with his 1938 jazz concert, to Billie Holiday’s soul-stirring 1955 performance of “Lady Sings the Blues,” to Leonard Bernstein conducting Mahler’s Symphony №2 with the New York Philharmonic. Even The Beatles graced its stage, just three days after their historic Ed Sullivan Show debut.
The joke also points to a deeper truth: iteration, or dedicated practice, forms the foundation of excellence for most any kind of work. Each repetition builds experience, helping professionals navigate diverse challenges while deepening their understanding and skills. Through consistent practice, they sharpen their effectiveness, confidence, and mastery — perhaps even earning their way to Carnegie Hall’s storied stage.
These principles of growth through iteration extend far beyond music, threading through every profession from product design to teaching to accounting. This pattern of creating, evaluating, and refining drives progress in all fields. Malcolm Gladwell captured this idea in his 2005 book “Outliers” with the “10,000-hour rule,” suggesting mastery requires roughly this much dedicated practice. His theory emphasizes that raw talent alone isn’t enough — true expertise demands sustained effort and commitment.
The concept dates back even further, to the 1550s Spanish phrase “La práctica hace al maestro” — practice makes a master. When this saying showed up in English during the 1600s as “practice makes perfect,” it lost some nuance, though its original meaning aligns more closely with Gladwell’s principle.
Yet Gladwell’s theory, while insightful, simplifies the complex nature of skill development. While deliberate practice is crucial, other factors play vital roles: natural ability, environment, and access to resources also shape success. Quality of practice often matters more than quantity — mindlessly repeating tasks for 10,000 hours yields different results than focused practice with meaningful feedback.
The relationship between perfection and mastery follows this winding path of growth and iteration. A few more examples ahead on how the design world’s pursuit of perfection can either illuminate the way forward or lead us astray, offering guidance for navigating this space.
Raymond Scott’s story illustrates some of these principles. This American composer and electronic music pioneer, active from 1908 to 1994, bridged traditional and electronic music in groundbreaking ways. While modern audiences might recognize his work from Looney Tunes or samples in songs by Devo, US3, and J Dilla, his most fascinating contribution was the Electronium — an innovative machine for generating electronic music.
In the 1950s and ’60s, Scott dove into electronic music’s possibilities, creating the Electronium to generate algorithmic compositions.
This remarkable fusion of analog and digital technology prefigured today’s generative music techniques. More than just an instrument, the Electronium became Scott’s laboratory for endless experimentation, embodying the iterative process through constant refinement and boundary-pushing.
Listen to 99% Invisible where they feature an episode of The Last Archive (from Pushkin Industries) about Raymond Scott and the Electronium: https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/player-piano/
The Electronium’s legacy continues today, with Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh working to restore the machine. Scott’s relentless experimentation and innovation demonstrate how commitment to iteration can spark revolutionary breakthroughs, revealing the deep connection between practice and creative exploration.
Zooming out, practice or iteration is intricately tied to the continuous generation of ideas, frequently converging with creativity.
While I’ll zero in on design, this principle extends its reach into numerous domains such as music, culinary arts, science, technology, healthcare, architecture, education, and writing. Designers, for instance, are tasked with perpetually enhancing their skills, staying attuned to emerging trends, and endless exploration of the latest resources to cater to user preferences and business imperatives.
At the heart of this iterative process lies practice. Sometimes, also called ideation. This is where fresh, imaginative concepts emerge, driven by a clear focus on the target audience. Kicking off with a robust research foundation, including methods like user interviews, scrutiny of customer service interactions, alignment with business objectives, and an analytical dive into website or app usage, offers a solid footing for this creative journey.
Yet, it doesn’t end there; structured methodologies like speedy sketching and the brainstorming exercise known as “crazy 8's” are employed to churn out many innovative ideas.
Quantity over quality. Bad ideas, good ideas, dumb ideas, get it out. Because getting those things out in a group of others can spark an even better idea.
And then comes assessment — the indispensable partner in this cycle. It fits in like this:
On this side of the diagram, designers must wear the hats of objectivity, open-mindedness to critique, adaptability, flexibility, and readiness to tweak ideas according to their real-world effectiveness. Here, the creative notions are subjected to rigorous scrutiny, keeping only what serves the users’ needs and the clients’ objectives. The genius of this process lies in its iterative nature, a rhythmic dance between creation and evaluation, resulting in ever-evolving refinement and ultimately delivering sought-after results. Beyond design, this methodology proves versatile and universal, fostering cross-disciplinary learning and drawing from a rich tapestry of diverse perspectives in our collective pursuit of excellence.
Now is a good time to talk about Steven Pressfield and the idea of shipping.
I was first introduced to the paramount concept of “shipping” through Pressfield’s “The War of Art” (via altMBA, RIP). Instead of falling into the endless loop of ceaseless refinement and pursuing unattainable perfection, shipping champions completing a project and setting it free. In Pressfield’s astute observations, many creatives are ensnared in the snares of perfectionism, dedicating extensive time to their craft without ever reaching the finish line or sharing their work with the world.
Pressfield masterfully articulates that “shipping” is indispensable because it serves as a conduit for embarking on new projects and embracing fresh ideas. It enables individuals to glean invaluable insights from their triumphs and tribulations, fostering personal growth and continuous improvement. By embracing iteration and shipping, an individual can continue refining and perfecting their work over time rather than getting bogged down in pursuing unattainable perfection.
Essentially, the philosophy of “shipping” steers individuals towards a path characterized by progression and development rather than the relentless pursuit of flawlessness. It empowers them to generate greater work, derive profound wisdom from their experiences, and ultimately reach their aspirations. Notably, this synergy of “shipping” and iteration underscores the symbiotic relationship that fuels creative progress. And shipping can only exist with regular iteration or practice.
As an experiment, a few weeks ago, I decided to test this out and asked a question on LinkedIn and Facebook in the form of a fill-in-the-blank statement:
Practice makes _________________.
To this prompt, I received a variety of responses:
- Practice makes habits
- Practice makes mildly ingrained neural pathways with repetitive action will lead to grooves and patterns you fall into a little bit more easily
- Practice makes you more confident in what I’m practicing
- Practice makes you develop other positive habits besides the skill you are specifically practicing
- Practice makes the most of things possible
- Practice makes burnout
- Practice makes you better at what it is you’re practicing
- Practice makes improvement
- Practice makes better
- Practice makes progress
- Practice makes a practitioner
- Practice makes you show up
- Practice makes the patience needed to get to the answer that will do the most good
- Practice makes perfection
- Practice makes permanence
- Practice makes you not bad at that thing (which is good unless it’s bad), then better (unless it’s worse), then possibly better (unless…)
- Practice makes you tired 😉
- Practice makes you burnout
- Practice makes sense
- Practice makes _________________
- Practice makes permanent
- Practice makes the patience needed to get to the answer that will do the most good
- Practice makes preparedness
- Practice makes multiplied by knowledge may yield wisdom
- Practice makes shit done faster 😀
- Practice makes the master or expert
- Practice makes… we talkin’ ’bout practice! Not a game? Not the game that I go out there and die for and play every game like it’s my last. Not the game. We talkin’ ’bout practice, man!? — Allen Iverson
So, let’s cluster these answers into broad categories or themes.
There’s no definitive right or wrong answer to this, but I was testing for and looking for the proverb “Practice makes perfect.” I was curious whether individuals would immediately recall this concise quip when browsing their LinkedIn or Facebook feeds or if they’d have a different response. Surprisingly, only one person out of the 27 responses, constituting just 4% of the sample, selected the response aligned with the traditional saying. If we consider “practice makes the master or expert,” this percentage increases to 7%.
This suggests that people, or at least this specific group of 27, hold diverse perspectives and interpretations of this widely known adage. The fact that only one response corresponds directly to the prompt implies that most responses delve into alternative viewpoints or offer phrase variations. This underscores the diverse beliefs and attitudes people have about the concept of perfection and the role of practice in achieving it. It truly highlights the rich tapestry of perspectives within our language and culture. So, even though most of us are familiar with the phrase “practice makes perfect,” it seems that deep down, we recognize that it’s not entirely accurate.
To iterate appropriately, I believe one must carefully consider combining creation and assessment to craft the next thing, the improved-upon design. This process follows the notion of iteration, which share the same fundamental principles. By trying different things, we can better understand our creative goals and the constraints we are working within, leading to more innovative solutions.
For many years, I’ve pushed back on the idea that designers are magicians with supernatural powers, conjuring up work shrouded in mystique, illuminated by screens, and accompanied by the clatter of mechanical keyboards. They aren’t casting spells like Harry Potter or creating magic like a Led Zeppelin song. It’s a process characterized by iteration and testing — rinse and repeat. And my friend, , has an apt metaphor here, while designers may appear to work magic, they’re more like sleight of hand artists. What looks effortless to observers is actually the product of rigorous practice and dedication.
Not magic but practice, practice, practice. Persistence, dedication, and countless hours of refining their craft.
This focus on iteration gives practitioners a clear edge over those fixated on perfection. While chasing perfection often leads to frustration and creative paralysis, iteration embraces steady improvement, building toward lasting success through small, consistent steps.
Moreover, iteration thrives on feedback. By sharing work early and often, we can gather insights from users, stakeholders, and teammates, using their input to guide meaningful improvements.
Perhaps most importantly, iteration fuels continuous growth. Regular practice and refinement build expertise and efficiency, fostering a mindset where setbacks become stepping stones rather than roadblocks. Instead of fearing mistakes, we learn to see them as valuable lessons on the path to mastery.
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, I’m always open to hearing others’ points-of-view — if it’s the same as mine or it’s different. If you found this useful, give me a clap (or a few). Also, thank you to for his help reframing and focusing this article.
