Atomic Habits Chapter 20
The Downside of Creating Good Habits
Habits create the foundation for mastery. In chess, only after the basic movements of the pieces become automatic can a player focus on the next level of the game. Each chunk of memorized information frees up mental space for more effortful thinking. This principle applies to any endeavor. Once simple actions are so ingrained that they require no thought, you can direct your attention to advanced details. In this way, habits are the backbone of excellence.
However, the benefits of habits come at a cost. Initially, repetition builds fluency, speed, and skill. But as a habit becomes automatic, you grow less sensitive to feedback. You slip into mindless repetition, allowing mistakes to go unnoticed. When you can perform "well enough" on autopilot, you stop thinking about improvement.
The upside of habits is that they let us act without thinking. The downside is that we become accustomed to doing things a certain way and overlook small errors. You might assume experience means improvement, but in reality, you’re merely reinforcing existing habits—not refining them. Research even shows that once a skill is mastered, performance often declines slightly over time.
For most everyday habits—brushing your teeth, tying your shoes, making tea—this minor decline doesn’t matter. "Good enough" is truly good enough. Freeing up mental energy for what’s important is the real value of automation.
But if you aim for elite performance, you need a more deliberate approach. Repeating the same actions blindly won’t lead to exceptional results. Habits are necessary, but not sufficient for mastery. What you need is automatic habits combined with deliberate practice.
Habits + Deliberate Practice = Mastery
Certain skills must become automatic before higher-level mastery is possible. Basketball players must dribble without thought before mastering off-hand layups. Surgeons must perform initial incisions flawlessly before handling complex variables. But after mastering one habit, you must return to the effortful work of building the next.
Mastery is a cycle: narrow your focus, repeat until the skill is internalized, then use that habit as a foundation for the next challenge. Old tasks become easier, but improvement demands new effort. Each habit unlocks a higher level of performance—an endless progression.
The danger lies in complacency. Just as a skill starts to feel automatic—just as you grow comfortable—you must resist the urge to stop refining it.
The solution?A system for reflection and review.
HOW TO REVIEW YOUR HABITS AND MAKE ADJUSTMENTS
In 1986, the Los Angeles Lakers had one of the most talented basketball teams ever assembled, but they are rarely remembered that way. The team started the 1985–1986 NBA season with an astounding 29–5 record. "The pundits were saying that we might be the best team in the history of basketball," head coach Pat Riley said after the season. Surprisingly, the Lakers stumbled in the 1986 playoffs and suffered a season-ending defeat in the Western Conference Finals. The "best team in the history of basketball" didn't even play for the NBA championship.
After that blow, Riley was tired of hearing about how much talent his players had and about how much promise his team held. He didn't want to see flashes of brilliance followed by a gradual fade in performance. He wanted the Lakers to play up to their potential, night after night. In the summer of 1986, he created a plan to do exactly that, a system that he called the Career Best Effort program or CBE.
"When players first join the Lakers," Riley explained, "we track their basketball statistics all the way back to high school. I call this Taking Their Number. We look for an accurate gauge of what a player can do, then build him into our plan for the team, based on the notion that he will maintain and then improve upon his averages."
After determining a player's baseline level of performance, Riley added a key step. He asked each player to "improve their output by at least 1 percent over the course of the season. If they succeeded, it would be a CBE, or Career Best Effort." Similar to the British Cycling team that we discussed in Chapter 1, the Lakers sought peak performance by getting slightly better each day.
Riley was careful to point out that CBE was not merely about points or statistics but about giving your "best effort spiritually and mentally and physically." Players got credit for "allowing an opponent to run into you when you know that a foul will be called against him, diving for loose balls, going after rebounds whether you are likely to get them or not, helping a teammate when the player he's guarding has surged past him, and other 'unsung hero' deeds."
As an example, let's say that Magic Johnson—the Lakers star player at the time—had 11 points, 8 rebounds, 12 assists, 2 steals, and 5 turnovers in a game. Magic also got credit for an "unsung hero" deed by diving after a loose ball (+1). Finally, he played a total of 33 minutes in this imaginary game.
The positive numbers (11 + 8 + 12 + 2 + 1) add up to 34. Then, we subtract the 5 turnovers (34–5) to get 29. Finally, we divide 29 by 33 minutes played.
29/33 = 0.879
Magic's CBE number here would be 879. This number was calculated for all of a player's games, and it was the average CBE that a player was asked to improve by 1 percent over the season. Riley compared each player's current CBE to not only their past performances but also those of other players in the league. As Riley put it, "We rank team members alongside league opponents who play the same position and have similar role definitions."
Sportswriter Jackie MacMullan noted, "Riley trumpeted the top performers in the league in bold lettering on the blackboard each week and measured them against the corresponding players on his own roster. Solid, reliable players generally rated a score in the 600s, while elite players scored at least 800. Magic Johnson, who submitted 138 triple-doubles in his career, often scored over 1,000."
The Lakers also emphasized year-over-year progress by making historical comparisons of CBE data. Riley said, "We stacked the month of November 1986, next to November 1985, and showed the players whether they were doing better or worse than at the same point last season. Then we showed them how their performance figures for December 1986, stacked up against November's."
The Lakers rolled out CBE in October 1986. Eight months later, they were NBA champions. The following year, Pat Riley led his team to another title as the Lakers became the first team in twenty years to win back-to-back NBA championships. Afterward, he said, "Sustaining an effort is the most important thing for any enterprise. The way to be successful is to learn how to do things right, then do them the same way every time."
The CBE program is a prime example of the power of reflection and review. The Lakers were already talented. CBE helped them get the most out of what they had, and made sure their habits improved rather than declined.
Reflection and review enables the long-term improvement of all habits because it makes you aware of your mistakes and helps you consider possible paths for improvement. Without reflection, we can make excuses, create rationalizations, and lie to ourselves. We have no process for determining whether we are performing better or worse compared to yesterday.
Top performers in all fields engage in various types of reflection and review, and the process doesn't have to be complex. Kenyan runner Eliud Kipchoge is one of the greatest marathoners of all time and an Olympic gold medalist. He still takes notes after every practice in which he reviews his training for the day and searches for areas that can be improved. Similarly, gold medal swimmer Katie Ledecky records her wellness on a scale of 1 to 10 and includes notes on her nutrition and how well she slept. She also records the times posted by other swimmers. At the end of each week, her coach goes over her notes and adds his thoughts.
It's not just athletes, either. When comedian Chris Rock is preparing fresh material, he will first appear at small nightclubs dozens of times and test hundreds of jokes. He brings a notepad on stage and records which bits go over well and where he needs to make adjustments. The few killer lines that survive will form the backbone of his new show.
I know of executives and investors who keep a "decision journal" in which they record the major decisions they make each week, why they made them, and what they expect the outcome to be. They review their choices at the end of each month or year to see where they were correct and where they went wrong.
Improvement is not just about learning habits, it's also about fine-tuning them. Reflection and review ensures that you spend your time on the right things and make course corrections whenever necessary—like Pat Riley adjusting the effort of his players on a nightly basis. You don't want to keep practicing a habit if it becomes ineffective.
Personally, I employ two primary modes of reflection and review. Each December, I perform an Annual Review, in which I reflect on the previous year. I tally my habits for the year by counting up how many articles I published, how many workouts I put in, how many new places I visited, and more. Then, I reflect on my progress (or lack thereof) by answering three questions:
1. What went well this year?
2. What didn't go so well this year?
3. What did I learn?
Six months later, when summer rolls around, I conduct an Integrity Report. Like everyone, I make a lot of mistakes. My Integrity Report helps me realize where I went wrong and motivates me to get back on course. I use it as a time to revisit my core values and consider whether I have been living in accordance with them. This is when I reflect on my identity and how I can work toward being the type of person I wish to become.
My yearly Integrity Report answers three questions:
1. What are the core values that drive my life and work?
2. How am I living and working with integrity right now?
3. How can I set a higher standard in the future?
These two reports don't take very long—just a few hours per year—but they are crucial periods of refinement. They prevent the gradual slide that happens when I don't pay close attention. They provide an annual reminder to revisit my desired identity and consider how my habits are helping me become the type of person I wish to be. They indicate when I should upgrade my habits and take on new challenges and when I should dial my efforts back and focus on the fundamentals.
Reflection can also bring a sense of perspective. Daily habits are powerful because of how they compound, but worrying too much about every daily choice is like looking at yourself in the mirror from an inch away. You can see every imperfection and lose sight of the bigger picture. There is too much feedback. Conversely, never reviewing your habits is like never looking in the mirror. You aren't aware of easily fixable flaws—a spot on your shirt, a bit of food in your teeth. There is too little feedback. Periodic reflection and review is like viewing yourself in the mirror from a conversational distance. You can see the important changes you should make without losing sight of the bigger picture. You want to view the entire mountain range, not obsess over each peak and valley.
Finally, reflection and review offers an ideal time to revisit one of the most important aspects of behavior change: identity.
HOW TO BREAK THE BELIEFS THAT HOLD YOU BACK
In the beginning, repeating a habit is essential to build evidence of your desired identity. But once you've adopted that new identity, those same beliefs can prevent further growth. When working against you, your identity creates a kind of pride that makes you deny weaknesses and blocks real progress. This is one of the biggest downsides of habit formation.
The more sacred an idea is to us - the more deeply tied to our identity - the more fiercely we defend it against criticism. We see this everywhere:
• The teacher who sticks to outdated methods
• The manager insisting on doing things "his way"
• The surgeon dismissing younger colleagues' ideas
• The band stuck recreating their first hit
The tighter we cling to an identity, the harder growth becomes.
The solution? Keep your identity flexible. As investor Paul Graham advises, "keep your identity small." When any single belief defines you completely, you lose adaptability. Consider:
• The athlete who can't adjust after retirement
• The veteran struggling with civilian life
• The CEO lost after selling their company
• The vegan facing necessary dietary changes
The key is to define yourself by flexible qualities rather than rigid roles:
"I'm an athlete" → "I'm mentally tough and love challenges"
"I'm a soldier" → "I'm disciplined and reliable"
"I'm a CEO" → "I build and create things"
This approach mirrors wisdom from the Tao Te Ching:
"Men are born soft and supple;
dead, they are stiff and hard.
Plants are born tender and pliant;
dead, they are brittle and dry.
Thus whoever is stiff and inflexible is a disciple of death.
Whoever is soft and yielding is a disciple of life.
The hard and stiff will be broken.
The soft and supple will prevail."
Habits bring many benefits but can trap us in outdated patterns. Since everything changes, we must regularly examine whether our habits and beliefs still serve us.
Lack of self-awareness is dangerous. Regular reflection is the cure.
CHAPTER SUMMARY
• Habits automate behavior (good) but can blind us to errors (bad)
• Mastery requires both habits and deliberate practice
• Reflection helps maintain awareness of your progress
• Rigid identities limit growth; flexible ones enable it
The strongest identities are those that can adapt while maintaining core values. Like water flowing around obstacles, they work with change rather than against it.