Beyond the Shortcuts: What True Mastery Requires
My son Cooper had recently turned 18. He was a passionate photographer and had even started a small business where he was paid to capture senior portraits, family moments, sports teams, and more.
For his 18th birthday, I gifted him a four-hour private lesson with a professional photographer and coach. Afterward, Cooper told me something the instructor said that stuck with me. The instructor praised Cooper’s attentiveness, thoughtful questions, and note-taking—qualities he rarely sees. Most people who hire him, he said, just want to know what buttons to push to get good photos.
He was so impressed with Cooper’s curiosity and commitment that he offered to return for another four-hour session free of charge.
That conversation reminded me of a simple truth: truly skilled professionals know there are no shortcuts to mastery. Even with today’s advanced, computer-driven cameras, capturing meaningful images still requires a trained eye, practiced technique, and emotional awareness. There’s no setting on a dial that guarantees an unforgettable photo.
And there’s no single “correct” note or lick that guarantees a great jazz solo either.
The Brain’s Shortcut Bias
Wanting shortcuts doesn’t make you lazy or shallow—it makes you human. The brain is wired to look for efficiency. It’s a survival mechanism. But that same wiring, left unchecked, can become a barrier to growth.
Consider an experiment conducted a few years ago. Participants were invited to take an IQ test, with a scheduled 10-minute break halfway through. During the break, they were led into a room with magazines and bowls of candy and told to relax and enjoy.
The real experiment, though, wasn’t about IQ scores. It was about effort. For some participants, the candy bowls were placed within easy reach—about 10 inches away. For others, the bowls were 30 inches away, requiring them to lean forward.
The results? People with the closer bowls ate about twice as much candy. Just a 20-inch difference significantly changed behavior. The takeaway: even minimal friction makes a difference in what people will or won’t do.
Mastery Demands Resistance
Effort matters. Whether you’re learning an instrument, a camera, a kitchen, or a sport—what separates dabblers from masters is the willingness to push through resistance. It’s a mindset that overrides the brain’s impulse to conserve energy.
Mastery is about consistently showing up and doing the hard, unglamorous work: practicing scales, reviewing photos, experimenting, failing, listening, adjusting. That’s the only way to move past shortcuts and reach what I call “escape velocity”—the point at which your momentum carries you into real growth and personal expression.
Know What You Want—And What It Takes
Now, let me be clear: there is nothing wrong with dabbling in the arts. I dabble in photography myself. But it’s important to be honest with yourself about the outcome you want—and whether the effort you’re willing to make is aligned with that goal.
If your goal is to casually enjoy a creative outlet, that’s a worthy and fulfilling path. But if you aspire to excel, to perform, and to be better than you were yesterday, then shortcuts won’t get you there. You’ll need to stretch that extra 20 inches, over and over again, even when you don’t feel like it that day.
Half of the participants in that experiment weren’t willing to lean a little farther to enjoy candy—something they liked. What does that say about how far people are willing to reach for something insurmountably harder?





1 thought on “Just tell me the buttons to push”
I get the whole thing about willing to “cross the room” so to speak to improve and excel at something!
But what about those of us that don’t eat candy? I mean sugar is poison.
If I were in the room, distance to candy would only effect me if it were something i was willing to put in my body! And how hungry I was…
But I would cross the room for a nice crisp organic carrot!