Over the weekend, I had the great joy of seeing legendary investors Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger hold court on stage in front of an adoring crowd of 40,000+ in Omaha, Nebraska.

The pair are 92 and 99, respectively, yet have the energy to sit and answer a seemingly endless deluge of questions from the audience, all while munching on See's Candy peanut brittle and gulping down their favorite Coke beverages.

It is a sight to behold.

While in Omaha, I got into a long conversation with a friend and mentor on one particularly impressive facet of the show: The effortless air about Buffett and Munger's entire performance, the ease and elegance with which they operate in what looks like a pressure-packed situation.

The conversation led us down a fascinating path—one I am excited to share with you all today...

Sprezzatura

A "courtier" was a person who would attend the royal court of a monarch or other royal figure. Historically, courtiers were expected to serve and perform at the pleasure of the royal figure, including through acts and displays ranging from music and dance to arms and athletic events.

In the 15th century, an Italian named Baldesar Castiglione wrote The Book of the Courtier, in which he intended to provide a portrayal of the perfect courtier.

One particular line stands out:

"I have found quite a universal rule...to practice in all things a certain sprezzatura [nonchalance], so as to conceal all art and make whatever is done or said appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it."

This term—sprezzatura—has come to be defined as a "studied carelessness" in the modern English language.

Castiglione defined it as "an easy facility in accomplishing difficult actions which hides the conscious effort that went into them."

I think of it as earned effortlessness, and it gives rise to a concept that bridges history from 15th century Italy to 21st century Omaha:

The Paradox of Effort: You have to put in more effort to make something appear effortless. Effortless, elegant performances are often just the result of a large volume of effortful, gritty practice. Small things become big things. Simple is not simple.

Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger have an earned effortlessness on stage. 50+ years of compounded knowledge, insight, and wisdom contribute to the air about them.

Pablo Picasso alluded to his earned effortlessness when he politely told a woman in the market that, "It took me thirty years to draw that masterpiece in thirty seconds."

Legends of every craft have abstracted all of the effort that went into their performance. From the outside, it looks easy, almost unconscious, but on the inside, it is the product of consistent compounding of tiny daily actions over long periods of time.

To make use of this insight, we can leverage a simple mental model to help assess our standing, progress, and path to mastery.

The 4 Stages of Competence

The Hierarchy of Competence, first proposed by Matthew Broadwell in 1969, says that we all progress through a fixed series of stages when moving from total novice to total expert at a given craft.

The stages are as follows:

• Stage 1: Unconscious Incompetence: At the first stage, we are a complete novice and are thus unaware of our own incompetence. We lack competence but also lack an understanding of our incompetence (or how to work out of it).
• Stage 2: Conscious Incompetence: At the second stage, we have developed an awareness of our own incompetence at the craft, but have not addressed or fixed this incompetence. The simple awareness that it is something to be fixed is the point of progress.
• Stage 3: Conscious Competence: At the third stage, we have developed a level of competence at the craft, but executing requires conscious effort and focus. Our competence requires effortful execution at this stage.
• Stage 4: Unconscious Competence: Sprezzatura. At the fourth stage, we have extreme competence at a craft that is executed without conscious effort. At this stage, we have reached the pinnacle of expertise.

This model is useful as a reflection tool for providing clarity about where we sit on a given skill or craft at any given moment. We tend to overestimate our own competency levels, so having a clear framework is helpful for cutting through the noise and delivering an honest personal assessment of our path to true mastery.

To determine whether you've graduated from one stage to the next, here are some simple questions to ask and reflect on:

• Conscious Incompetence: Am I aware of how bad I am at [X]? Am I aware of what is required to learn and develop at [X]?
• Conscious Competence: Am I able to do [X] at a consistently average level? Have I avoided "rookie mistakes" the last 10 times I have done [X]?
• Unconscious Competence: Am I able to do [X] at a top-1% level with my eyes closed? Do people tell me that I look effortless when doing [X]?

Most of us will navigate life in Stage 3 (Conscious Competence)—the standard for working professionals. This is the stage where you can create results with effort.

Continued deep, deliberate, focused practice is what is required to achieve sprezzatura in any given craft.

Bringing in some science from Cal Newport's Deep Work, our brains have myelin, which is a fatty tissue that insulates our neurons and greases them for proper firing. Sprezzatura is achieved when the accumulated impact of countless hours of effortful practice results in more myelin, allowing the neurons to fire in perfect concert with ease.

As you progress in any new endeavor or craft, use the 4 Stages of Competence model to assess and reflect on your growth.

As a rule of thumb: Seek to play games that place a focus on your Stage 3 or 4 skills. Avoid games that place a focus on your Stage 1 or 2 skills. Do that and you will earn attractive long-term rewards.

Earning Your Elegance

When in the presence of mastery, it is easy to perceive talent and glaze over the work and movement that contributed to it.

But the trained eye knows better.

There are two core benefits to developing an understanding of sprezzatura and the Paradox of Effort:

1. The ability to appreciate the years of energy and effort that went into any masterful performance.
2. The awareness of your current standing and the path to mastery in any given field.

If you're reading this newsletter, chances are you're striving to achieve mastery in something. I hope this perspective provides you with a clear appreciation of the pre-requisites to achieving it, and a clear vision of your path to get there.

P.S. Here's a photo from Omaha with a mentor and friend (and Curiosity Chronicle subscriber) who also carries himself with some serious sprezzatura!

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