Confessions of a Late Bloomer

"Retest me," I pleaded, desperately wanting to join the "smart" kids in the "gifted" room. Forcing a smile, he explained that one's intelligence just doesn't change all that much, and my intelligence didn't qualify me for gifted education. No retest.

I ran straight to the local library and found a book about human intelligence. One chart caught my eye. It listed what people with different IQs are capable of achieving. I started down the list.

Could I be a Ph.D.? Not a chance. How about a college graduate? Nope. Semiskilled laborer? In my dreams. After some time, I finally found my range. "Lucky to graduate high school," it said. I threw the book down on the table with an audible "F*ck that!" as several librarians rushed over to quiet and, possibly, tackle me.

That was merely the first such experience that led me to realize that we live in a society with peculiar expectations about the time course of success. We think that if a child isn't blossoming as fast as the others in grade school, he or she will be hard-pressed to eventually flourish.

Truth be told, many of those who seriously altered the landscape of our lives—from Charles Darwin to Sir Alexander Fleming, discoverer of penicillin—were individuals who found their groove later in life. Many even started out delayed, only to end up successes beyond expectation.

The later bloom comes in several varieties. There is the classic, such as Grandma Moses, who took up painting in her late 70s to worldwide acclaim, and continued painting into her 90s. Not to be confused with the late-recognized bloomer, such as photographer André Kertész, who, little noticed by the world for his unusual compositions, finally gained public acclaim in his 80s. No less important is the repeat bloomer, such as Ian Fleming, who, after succeeding as a journalist, banker, and stockbroker, went on to create James Bond when he was 45.

Such achievers are only the tip of the rosebush. Late bloomers are actually plentiful, and each has his or her own story and distinctive pathway. Stopping to look at all the paths together calls into question some of society's most cherished beliefs— about the nature of human development, the roles of intelligence and education in creative achievement, and the ingredients of success at any age. All too often, what society thinks is a limiting factor—harsh early life experiences, such as parental loss—may turn out to be the very thing that enables eventual success.

The last century added 30 years of opportunity to our lives, conferring what's been called a second middle age. Especially in light of our extended life span, it's worth confronting the very notion of late blooming to ask: late for what?

Budding Brains

Perhaps the most basic component of success is ability; it's necessary, but not by itself sufficient. And there's no question that ability—often called "gifts" and "talents"—has some basis in the brain. But many—educators, scientists, and laypeople alike—conceptualize ability as a static property, something hard-wired into the brain by genes that are prepackaged and already activated at birth. When tapped, it bursts forth. At every turn, this conception is far too simplistic.

Ability can take time to develop. The contribution that genes make to ability doesn't determine everything; rarely is it laid out in one burst. "The genes don't act all at once, but can take years to unfold," says Dean Keith Simonton, a psychologist at University of California at Davis. "We know that the genes are partly responsible for brain organization, but we also know that the brain is not completely organized until well into adulthood."

Think of genes as players in an orchestra, with different sections responsible for different traits. Not only do all the individual players have to be in sync, but so do the sections. Just as the percussion section might have trouble getting its rhythm together, the genes that underlie a particular trait might be activated later than the genes for other traits that contribute to an ability. So one trait, like gregariousness, can develop early on while another trait, like speech production, may lag—which can be awkward until the two come into harmony.

The contribution that genes make to ability does not fully determine how the ability will be expressed. Like water to a flower, the environment plays a critical role in the activation of genes. In reality, talent emerges over the course of a lifetime of reciprocal interactions between the developing brain and a stimulating environment.