The ability of effortlessness to raise one person’s achievements above another is not unique to our age. In 1528 Italian noble Baldassare Castiglione wrote a small manual of advice about desirable conduct in the Renaissance court, an arena every bit as conscious of success as any in the modern day. The Book of The Courtier urges the importance of the value of what Castiglione calls sprezzatura.  His advice is “to practice in all things a certain sprezzatura, 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.” 
 

However, we shouldn’t just note that Castiglione’s sprezzatura is about the importance of being effortless, but that it emphasises appearing to be effortless, and concealing the effort that goes into what we do. For how ever beguiling the spell of sprezzatura it has a paradox at its heart – it’s a lot of hard work. 
 

The overhead kick that seals the cup tie may look effortless, but it takes hours of practice on the training field. Sinking into the piano stool to spontaneously delight an assembled crowd with a collection of popular favourites disguises hours practicing scales. The perfect take in an Oscar performance is built on the hundreds on the cutting room floor and the rehearsals that went before. 
 

Indeed, the psychologist Anders Ericsson’s work on the development of expertise has yielded the so-called “10,000 hour rule” – developing any skill to an expert level takes 10,000 hours of practice. Perhaps, then, when we reflect on the apparently limited rewards our own hard work has bought we should remember Hollywood mogul Sam Goldwyn’s reported witticism, “Give me a couple of years and I’ll make that actress an overnight success.”

Nick Southgate