Grit and Resilience

Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face. Mike Tyson said that, and whatever you think of Mike Tyson, the man understood something about adversity that most motivational speakers spend entire careers dancing around. Your plan, however carefully constructed, however deeply you believe in it, will meet reality at some point. Reality will not cooperate. The question isn’t whether you’ll get knocked down. You will. The question is what you do after.

Grit and Resilience

Grit and resilience aren’t the same thing, though they work together so closely that it’s easy to conflate them. Resilience is the capacity to recover. To get back up after you’ve been knocked down, to function again after you’ve been broken, to find your footing after the ground has shifted. Grit is something adjacent but distinct. It’s the sustained commitment to a long-term goal despite obstacles, setbacks, disappointments, and the daily grind of doing difficult things when difficult things don’t feel remotely rewarding.

Research by Angela Duckworth showed that grit was a better predictor of success than talent or IQ across multiple high-performing populations (Duckworth et al., 2007). At West Point Military Academy, in the National Spelling Bee, among rookie teachers in tough schools, the people who succeeded weren’t necessarily the most naturally gifted. They were the ones who kept going. That finding made Duckworth’s work famous, but later meta-analytic research has significantly challenged how much weight it can bear: grit turns out to overlap heavily with the personality trait of conscientiousness, and its power to predict success on its own is far more modest than the early studies suggested. What survives the challenge is still worth taking seriously. Sustained effort matters more than most people assume, and talent is systematically overrated as a predictor of who actually succeeds.

But I want to complicate that slightly, because in twenty years of medicine I’ve seen people mistake stubbornness for grit and pay a heavy price for the confusion. Grit isn’t refusing to adapt. It’s not ignoring evidence that your approach isn’t working. It’s not staying in a situation that’s damaging you out of sheer determination not to quit. Real grit is directed. It’s the sustained commitment to a direction, not to a specific method of getting there. If the method isn’t working, grit means finding a different method and keeping going. It doesn’t mean doing the same ineffective thing more intensely.

Consistent Effort

Research confirms that consistent effort over time beats intense bursts of effort every single time (Ericsson et al., 1993). The person who practises the piano for thirty minutes every day for five years will vastly outperform the person who practises for eight hours on a Saturday, then takes two months off. Not because intensity is bad, but because consistency builds a different kind of capability than intensity can. It builds the neural pathways, the habits of mind, the tolerance for the unglamorous middle of any worthwhile endeavour.

That unglamorous middle is worth talking about directly, because it’s where most people quietly give up without ever formally quitting. They don’t have a dramatic moment of surrender. They just gradually do less, make more exceptions, let the habit erode until it’s gone. The middle of any meaningful goal is uncomfortable in a specific way. The initial excitement has worn off. The end isn’t yet visible. You’re deep enough in to know how hard it actually is, but not far enough along to feel the pull of the finish line. This is the stretch that separates the people who achieve from those who almost do.

Resilience is what grit needs to keep functioning. You’re going to fail at things. You’re going to have setbacks that feel disproportionately devastating. You’re going to have periods where everything you’re doing seems to be producing nothing. Resilience is what gets you back to the work after those moments, rather than interpreting them as evidence that you should stop.

Studies show that moderate exposure to adversity actually builds resilience, while both complete comfort and overwhelming trauma tend to reduce it (Seery et al., 2010). This has a practical implication that’s easy to miss. You don’t build resilience by avoiding difficulty. You build it by encountering difficulty at a manageable level, recovering from it, and thereby developing confidence that recovery is possible. If your life has been structured to eliminate all significant challenge, your resilience is probably less robust than you think. You haven’t had the opportunity to build it.

Carol Dweck’s research on the growth mindset underlies all of this (Dweck, 2006). People with fixed mindsets interpret difficulty as evidence of their own limitations. When things get hard, it means they’re not good enough. So they quit, avoid, or choose goals that are safely within their current capabilities. People with growth mindsets interpret difficulty differently. It’s the signal that development is happening. It’s the discomfort of the edge of what they can currently do. It doesn’t mean stop. It means keep going.

Embrace what Sucks

This is where the concept of embracing the suck becomes genuinely useful. It comes from military training, where conditions are deliberately made miserable to develop exactly this capacity. When you’re cold, exhausted, in pain, and nothing about the situation is improving, you have a choice about your relationship to that experience. You can fight it, resent it, count down until it’s over. Or you can accept it, be in it fully, and keep doing what needs doing. The second response doesn’t make the situation better. But it makes you more capable of functioning within it, and of getting through it.

I see patients every week who’ve been doing this without knowing there’s a name for it. The patient with chronic pain who still shows up to work. The parent managing severe depression who still gets their children to school. The person with crippling anxiety who still does the things that terrify them, because the alternative is a life that keeps shrinking. They’re not heroic in any dramatic sense. They’re just doing what needs doing, which is sometimes the most courageous thing there is.

There’s something worth noting about how grit and resilience compound over time. Each time you push through difficulty, you don’t just complete the task. You build a record of evidence that you’re someone who pushes through difficulty. That record matters more than most people realise. Identity follows behaviour. The more often you act like someone who finishes things, who keeps going when it’s hard, who gets back up after setbacks, the more firmly that becomes who you actually are. You’re not discovering grit. You’re constructing it, one difficult day at a time.

Grit and resilience are muscles. They develop through use and atrophy through avoidance. Every time you do the difficult thing you don’t want to do, you build them. Every time you get knocked down and get back up anyway, you build them. The process is slow and rarely feels significant in the moment. But over time, you become someone who handles adversity differently than people who’ve never built these capacities.

Start with one difficult thing today. Not several. One. Do it when you don’t feel like it. Come back and do it again tomorrow. Build the identity of someone who does hard things even when hard things are unrewarding. That identity, more than any talent or circumstance, is what determines what you achieve in the long run.

Further reading

  1. Duckworth, A. L., Peterson, C., Matthews, M. D., & Kelly, D. R. (2007). Grit: Perseverance and Passion for Long-Term Goals. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 92(6), 1087–1101.
  2. Dweck, C. S. (2006). Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Random House.
  3. Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R. T., & Tesch-Römer, C. (1993). The Role of Deliberate Practice in the Acquisition of Expert Performance. Psychological Review, 100(3), 363–406.
  4. Seery, M. D., Holman, E. A., & Silver, R. C. (2010). Whatever Does Not Kill Us: Cumulative Lifetime Adversity, Vulnerability, and Resilience. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 99(6), 1025–1041.
  5. Tyson, M. (2013). Undisputed Truth: My Autobiography. Blue Rider Press.

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