Laszlo Polgar, a Hungarian psychologist, believed that the key ingredient to producing a prodigy required a child to be rigorously trained in a specific field starting at an early age. To test out this unorthodox parenting technique, he introduced the rules of chess to his three daughters: Susan, Sophia and Judit Polgar. Polgar started training 4-year-old Susan, and her sisters took up the same game after observing the intense studying Susan underwent. Their childhood was planned around the 64-square board game under the close instruction of their father. These efforts paid off with all three sisters dominating international tournaments with perfect scores during their adolescence, eventually leading to Susan being named the first woman grandmaster—the highest honor one can earn in the chess world—at age 21. Judit earned the same title at only 15 in 1991. While their accolades are impressive, this raises the bigger question of whether intentional practice in a nurturing environment can transform any child into a prodigy. Did Laszlo Polgar strike lucky with three daughters who were genetically predisposed to chess?
In the Polgars case, prodigies seemingly were made, not born. In other words, if Laszlo had not devoted his time and resources to training his daughters in chess, their names would have gone undiscovered in the chess world. Thus, it is vital to consider the possibility of genetic advantages that make children more apt to learning certain skills at the adult level. Both working memory and the innate drive to learn, also called “rage to master,” are two characteristics of prodigies that are proven to have a genetic basis. A 2014 study done on 18 prodigies in various fields found a common characteristic among all of them: remarkable scores on working memory tests. Though these children had a wide range of IQ scores, these child prodigies were able to efficiently store information in their long-term memory and manipulate it to solve any problem in the field they specialized in, unlike the typical child who stores information in their short-term memory. The heritability of this trait is reported to be 50%.
As they grow older, their working memory expands, making it even easier to accumulate, store and apply knowledge that they learn to their field. This feeds into another genetically linked trait—rage to master. They are more intrinsically inclined to constantly engage in their field for hours in day to an obsessive level. In addition to this trait being 40-70% heritable, the continuous rewards, ongoing praise from their family and their neurological development allowing their brain to absorb larger amounts of information continues to motivate them. Thus, the argument made by working memory and rage to master shows that talent stems from DNA, not environment. This argument can be further strengthened by the stories of parents from ordinary backgrounds who birth a child who suddenly shows great aptitude in one area. Take singer-songwriter Stevie Wonder, for example, who was raised by a single mother and faced financial difficulties throughout his childhood. The Polgar sisters were parented by a psychologist and teacher, while a self-taught mathematical prodigy, Paul Erdos, was a son to high school teachers.
So, which side is correct?
The “prodigy conundrum” is the epitome of the nature versus nurture debate. While it has been continually proven that art, math, music and chess prodigies have a brain that is structurally and functionally different from typical children, these in-born talents can’t be naturally honed by pure coincidence. Someone had to introduce and encourage them in this area. Namely, they had to provide them with canvases, textbooks, instruments or access to tournaments.
As an analogy, there are two infants, Infant A and Infant B, who are genetically predicted to be six feet seven inches. Years later, when their growth spurt has terminated, Infant A is near the predicted height of six feet five inches while infant B is five feet two inches. The difference is astounding, but there is a reason for that. It all comes down to whether their nutritional needs were met throughout their childhood and adolescence while they were physically developing. Infant B may have not been properly nourished, possibly because of their caretaker’s ineptitude, an underlying condition or their own stubborn refusal to eat the proper foods. Regardless of why Infant B was unable to meet their genetic fate, their environment trumped the effect of genetics.
Therefore, these same concepts can be applied to the three aforementioned cases. Laszlo ensured his daughters trained every day for hours, even allowing them to be homeschooled to give them more time to focus on chess. Erdos’s parents were high school math teachers, so he had ample access to mathematical books from which he studied. Additionally, his father introduced him to set theory which he later made significant contributions to in adulthood. Wonder’s mother, Lula Hardaway, became a creative partner, co-writing some of his biggest hits. The recognizable pattern is that these child prodigies had family members who encouraged and provided resources to foster their talents in a specific subject area.
Child prodigies are well-documented on social media by parents or through research studies which monitor their development from childhood into their adult years. Social media presents this picture of rightfully prideful parents retelling how their child taught themselves their alphabets then went on to graduate college by the time they hit puberty, or created Picasso-esque works using Crayola washable paints. Social media heightens an already impressive achievement into an extraordinary feat. However, what social media doesn’t highlight is the extensive support system behind the camera. It doesn’t capture the parents, teachers and siblings that sacrifice their time to accommodate the budding genius.
To put a possible end to the debate, prodigies are born, stumble onto something they excel at, are recognized by their parents, given resources, praised by their community, encouraged to go further into their field and then labelled a prodigy.
Genetics plays a small role in the long-run. It isn’t insignificant, but the social factors are underappreciated and devalued when it comes to studying a prodigy. In all honesty, it takes luck for both the optimal genetics and environment to align in order to create a genius. This realization could make anyone wonder if they missed the chance to become a prodigy. Although an interesting thought, it is ultimately trivial to wonder about. Rather, effort and passion can produce achievements just as remarkable in any field as those of any child prodigy.