Effort and What It Builds
By Sophie Makonnen
In a recent article in the newspaper La Presse, entitled The mistake that made me better – Betting on my 90 % (the article is in French : L’erreur qui m’a rendue meilleure – Miser sur ses 90% by Stephanie Bérubé) , a simple performance comment becomes the starting point for a broader reflection on how professional development is often framed.
During a performance discussion, a manager says, “You have 90 %. We’re going to focus on the remaining 10 %.” The intention is constructive, framed as support for professional development. But embedded in the message is a clear directive about how progress is to be defined: attention and effort are directed toward what is missing rather than toward what already works. With hindsight, the reflection does not dismiss the importance of recognizing limits. Knowing where the 10 % sits matters, especially when it helps you surround yourself with complementary skills. But as the article indicates, placing too much emphasis there can comes at a cost. Indeed, a strong focus on areas deemed in need of improvement diverts energy and attention elsewhere. It can also delay opportunities to deepen existing strengths.
This short article serves as the point of departure for this blog. It invites a closer look at how we think about professional growth, particularly the assumptions behind acquiring new skills, learning new things, acknowledging limits, designing around gaps, and investing in what already works.
Underlying is the broader coaching approach known as strength-based coaching, which, in a nutshell, takes what already works as the primary starting point for growth and builds on it, rather than treating gaps as the default focus.
What the 90 % actually represents
I use the 90–10 % idea from the La Presse article as a framing concept for this blog.
Being “at 90 %” does not mean aiming for 100 % or chasing perfection. It also raises questions about the expectations we carry regarding what a role requires.
Many of the expectations people place on themselves and others are inherited rather than essential. They reflect an ideal of completeness that rarely exists in practice and often creates unnecessary pressure. Left unexamined, these assumptions can also lead organizations to overlook strong candidates whose contributions would otherwise be highly valuable.
The 90% refers to the skills, ways of thinking, and habits that already work well. These are the things that consistently create value and that others depend on, often without naming or even noticing them. You can see them in how problems are solved, decisions are made, relationships are managed, and complexity is handled. They show up in results and in good judgment. Over time, these strengths become familiar and sometimes even invisible. That familiarity is one reason people often overlook them. What comes naturally is easy to discount, since it no longer feels like hard work. On the other hand, things that feel awkward or difficult get more attention because they take more effort, involve risk, or require learning something new.
Recognizing what works isn’t about inflating your abilities. It’s about identifying what already sustains your performance and understanding where your contribution is strongest and most consistent. These valuable skills become the foundation for deciding what to deepen, what to support differently, and what doesn’t need to be mastered personally to continue growing professionally.
The cost of overfocusing on the 10 %
Recognizing limits is necessary. Fixating on them is costly.
When development is framed primarily around what needs improvement, attention slowly shifts away from contribution. Energy is spent correcting, compensating, and monitoring gaps rather than expanding what already creates value. Over time, this can change how people relate to their work and to themselves.
Constantly scanning for weaknesses narrows perspective. Instead of asking, How can I use what I do well more effectively? The question becomes, What am I still getting wrong? That shift can look responsible. It often aligns with how professional development is framed. But it also assumes that progress comes mainly from deficit correction. What if the glass is not half empty, but half full, and development starts from there?
There is also an emotional cost. Working primarily from areas of lesser competence is exhausting. Progress is slower, feedback feels heavier, and confidence becomes fragile. For people who already perform at a high level, this can quietly erode motivation, not because they lack ability, but because their efforts are misdirected.
Perhaps the most significant cost is strategic. When development is driven mainly by what is perceived as missing, opportunities are missed. Strengths that could be deepened, leveraged, or scaled remain underused. Leadership shifts toward managing risk rather than shaping direction.
None of this suggests that limits should be ignored. It suggests that disproportionate attention to “the 10 %” distorts judgment. Development, when it becomes primarily corrective, stops being enabling. It keeps people busy, but it does not always make them more effective.
Strength-based coaching (when done properly)
This way of thinking naturally brings us to strength-based coaching. At its core, strength-based coaching focuses on identifying what individuals already do well and using those strengths as the primary lever for development, performance, and impact, rather than starting from deficits or gaps.
That approach is sometimes misunderstood as encouragement without rigor or avoidance. From my experience, done correctly, it is neither indulgent nor naïve. It is a discipline of choice.
At its core, it asks a different question. Not What should be fixed? but What, if strengthened, will have the greatest impact? This is not about avoiding difficulty. It is about directing effort where it compounds.
A strength-based approach does not deny the existence of limits. It treats them proportionally. Some gaps need to be managed, supported, or designed around. Others require learning, especially when they are essential to the role. The distinction matters. It is about balance: knowing when new knowledge, skills, or competencies are needed, and when it is more effective to delegate or design support around a gap. It also recognizes that being “at 90 %” is not absolute. You may operate at 90 % in one role or context and find yourself in a very different position in another, where a different set of skills, judgments, or ways of working is required. In those situations, you are no longer at 90 %. And that is not an issue. It is part of how professional roles and responsibilities evolve.
Strengths, in this sense, are not something to celebrate. They are something to invest in deliberately, with attention to context, responsibility, and consequence.
Designing around the 10 %
So what do we do with the 10 %? Acknowledging it does not mean carrying it alone.
One of the quiet shifts that comes with experience is realizing that effectiveness does not require self-sufficiency. Many gaps do not need to be mastered personally to be addressed responsibly. They need to be designed around, as illustrated in the article that inspired this blog.
Design can take many forms. It can mean building complementary teams where different strengths are deliberately combined. It can mean relying on systems, tools, or processes that reduce exposure to areas of lesser competence. It can mean delegating with clarity or partnering with people whose strengths naturally cover what does not come easily to you.
The key distinction is intentionality. Designing around a gap is a conscious choice, made with results and balance in mind. Avoidance, by contrast, leaves blind spots unmanaged and risks unexamined. The difference between the two is not effort, but awareness.
There are limits to what design can do. Some capabilities are core to a role and cannot be outsourced while others can be supported for a time, particularly during transitions. For instance, a new manager may initially rely on HR for help with performance review exercises, or a technical expert may partner with others to improve the communication of results. But core responsibilities such as judgment, ethical accountability, and relational leadership cannot be delegated indefinitely. Distinguishing between what can be supported temporarily and what must be developed is part of leadership growth.
Designing around limits does not lower standards. It makes them realistic. None of us operates at 100 %.
Where that leaves us ?
When effort is no longer organized around deficits, work itself is approached differently.
In practice, most of us already move back and forth between these logics in our professional lives. Sometimes we choose roles that closely align with what we already do well because the fit allows us to contribute more fully. At other times, we deliberately invest in learning something new, not because we are deficient, but because a new skill or competence will allow us to perform better, take on more responsibility, or move into a different role.
Neither approach is inherently better. What matters is discernment. Knowing when to build on existing strengths and when to stretch into unfamiliar territory is part of how careers develop. Problems arise when one logic dominates by default, especially when development is framed almost exclusively as fixing what is missing.
A word of caution: Investing in strengths does not mean relying on them uncritically. What works well can be overused. What comes naturally can become rigid. And focusing exclusively on the familiar can quietly narrow learning.
This is where the conversation continues. In the following piece, I will look at the other side of strength-based approaches: when strengths, overapplied or unexamined, become liabilities, and what it means to keep professional development alive without slipping back into constant self-correction.
Enjoyed this post? Share it with someone who might appreciate it