We’ve all heard the timeless adage, “Quality over quantity.” It’s a phrase that’s been drilled into us since we were children, a golden rule for everything from schoolwork to relationships. But what if I told you that, when it comes to learning and creation, the opposite might be true?
There’s a popular parable that perfectly illustrates this point. The story goes that a pottery teacher divided their class into two groups for a semester-long project.
- Group 1: The Quality Group. This group was told their grade would be based on a single, perfect pot. They were to spend the entire term planning and perfecting one magnificent piece.
- Group 2: The Quantity Group. This group was told their grade would be based on sheer output. They would be graded by weight, with a certain number of pounds of pottery earning an A, a B, and so on.
At the end of the term, a curious and surprising thing happened. The highest quality pots—the most beautiful, refined, and technically impressive—were not produced by the "quality" group. They were all made by the "quantity" group.
Why?
The "quality" group was paralyzed by the pressure to create a flawless masterpiece. They spent their time theorizing, sketching, and worrying about every detail, often getting stuck in a state of "analysis paralysis." They feared mistakes so much that they barely made any pots at all.
The "quantity" group, however, was in a constant state of action. They were throwing pots every day. They failed, they broke pots, they learned how to center the clay, how to shape it, and how to glaze it. With each failure, they got a little bit better. Their skills weren't born from an abstract idea of perfection; they were forged in the fire of continuous practice. By the end, they had a pile of mediocre pots, and on top, a few true gems that were far superior to anything the "quality" group produced.
(The story, as it's most often told, comes from the book Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking by David Bayles and Ted Orland.)
The Tale of the Water Pump
If you’re still not convinced, consider the wisdom of musician Ed Sheeran. He uses an analogy of an old, unused water pump to describe his creative process.
When you first try to pump water from an old well, the initial water that comes out is dirty, murky, and full of gunk. You must keep pumping out the bad water to get to the clear, fresh water that’s deep in the well.
Sheeran applies this to his songwriting. He believes that if he hasn't written for a while, his initial creative output will be of poor quality. He must write several bad songs—the "muddy water"—before he can get to the truly good, high-quality songs—the "clear water." He doesn't wait for inspiration; he sits down and starts pumping.
Both the pottery parable and the water pump principle teach the same powerful lesson: you have to generate a lot of content, even if it’s bad, to get to the genuinely good stuff.
The Lessons We Can Learn
- Done is Better Than Perfect: The greatest barrier to success is often the fear of failure. By focusing on producing a high volume of work, you bypass this fear and simply get started.
- Practice is the Path to Perfection: There is no substitute for repetition. The "quantity" group's successes weren't accidental; they were the inevitable result of thousands of small, iterative improvements.
- Mistakes are Your Best Teachers: Each failed pot was a lesson in what not to do. The "quantity" group embraced these lessons, while the "quality" group tried to avoid them entirely.
So, the next time you feel stuck, remember the pottery class and Ed Sheeran's water pump. Instead of striving for one perfect piece, just start making. You may be surprised to find that by focusing on quantity, you're on the fastest path to achieving true quality.
