This was a long read: I give 1. comments and 2. sparse notes sparse notes on the most salient points and snippets (you can dive deeper if these interest you):

#1. Comments

1. I enjoyed the entire read.
2. I think the points made in the post are generally correct.
3. I disagree with one possible takeaway, which is that you can choose not to work on important problems because you're not naturally brilliant in that field. I don't actually care what problems people work on (just enjoy your life), but I can see this post discouraging someone who wants to work on the problem of aging (which he mentions) because biology is hard for them. And that's not good.
   1. I may not be destined to be an amazing scientist/researcher, but if I want to work on, say, the technical problem of AI alignment, I'd rather believe foolishly that I can be like Elon Musk here and find out what my actual limits are.
   2. That is, I belive most people underestimate their potential to make an outsized impact on problems, and this post certainly wouldn't help.
   3. It's why I hate the book Outliers . I think for those people trying to make a difference, these points about innate ability are just counterproductive.
4. I do think the actual point of figuring out what energizes you—what kind of work doesn't feel like work—is really important.
   1. If I want to work on AI alignment, I shouldn't try to be Ilya Sutskever. I should play to my strengths and figure out how I can make progress on the problem.
   2. I think this is much closer to Scott's point, anyway.
5. I really enjoyed some of the quotes I include below (particularly the ending).

#2. Sparse notes

#I.

1. Usually two sides of a debate surrounding attributing outcomes to (a) genes, biology, accidents of birth and (b) perseverance, willpower, and grit.
2. For most of these debates (e.g., being overweight, poor), the sympathetic side is usually (a).
3. But for intellectual achievement, it's the opposite: arguing that it comes pre-determined is an “unpleasant truth.”

#II & III.

4. Various stories of Scott experiencing struggle in math and music despite very hard work, and then experiencing innate talent in writing.
5. He got praise for writing and scolded for math; he's not sure which one bothered him more.

I tend to think of social norms as contracts bargained between different groups. In the case of attitudes towards intelligence, those two groups are smart people and dumb people. Since I was both at once, I got to make the bargain with myself, which simplified the bargaining process immensely. The deal I came up with was that I wasn’t going to beat myself up over the areas I was bad at, but I also didn’t get to become too cocky about the areas I was good at. It was all genetic luck of the draw either way. In the meantime, I would try to press as hard as I could to exploit my strengths and cover up my deficiencies. So far I’ve found this to be a really healthy way of treating myself, and it’s the way I try to treat others as well.

On the other hand, I know people who want to get good at writing, and make a mighty resolution to write two hundred words a day every day, and then after the first week they find it’s too annoying and give up. These people think I’m amazing, and why shouldn’t they? I’ve written a few hundred to a few thousand words pretty much every day for the past ten years.

But as I’ve said before, this has taken exactly zero willpower. It’s more that I can’t stop even if I want to. Part of that is probably that when I write, I feel really good about having expressed exactly what it was I meant to say. Lots of people read it, they comment, they praise me, I feel good, I’m encouraged to keep writing, and it’s exactly the same virtuous cycle as my brother got from his piano practice.

(and several quotes following with the same sentiment, including some on Ramanujan and how he probably didn't think of his hard work in math as “work.”)

So this too is part of my deal with myself. I’ll try to do my best at things, but if there’s something I really hate, something where I have to go uphill every step of the way, then it’s okay to admit mediocrity. I won’t beat myself up for not forcing myself kicking and screaming to practice piano. And in return I won’t become too cocky about practicing writing a lot. It’s probably some kind of luck of the draw either way.

#IV.

6. Tangent about not working on aging research despite rationalist reasons that could guilt him because he doesn't have an aptitude for biology.

7. We're all in the "not Elon Musk" boat together and then "a lot of the status games around innate ability start to seem less important."

   So “me on stimulants is that guy’s normal” seems like a good way of cutting through some of the philosophical difficulties around this issue.

#V.

8. If you were smarter you'd still feel inadequate commpared to a bigger fish.

(makes a nice reference to Burdens ! and then:)

Likewise with intellectual ability. When someone feels sad because they can’t be a great scientist, it is nice to be able to point out all of their intellectual strengths and tell them “Yes you can, if only you put your mind to it!” But this is often not true. At that point you have to say “f@#k it” and tell them to stop tying their self-worth to being a great scientist. And we had better establish that now, before transhumanists succeed in creating superintelligence and we all have to come to terms with our intellectual inferiority.

#VII.

9. Comparative advantage  proves everyone can contribute: even if you are worse than everybody at something, you can still make money.

10. The parable of talents:

    Our modern word “talent” comes from the Greek word talenton, a certain amount of precious metal sometimes used as a denomination of money. The etymology passes through a parable of Jesus’. A master calls three servants to him and gives the first five talents, the second two talents, and the third one talent. The first two servants invest the money and double it. The third literally buries it in a hole. The master comes back later and praises the first two servants, but sends the third servant to Hell (metaphor? what metaphor?).

    … The moral seems to be that if you take what God gives you and use it wisely, you’re fine.

    The modern word “talent” comes from this parable. It implies “a thing God has given you which you can invest and give back”.

    So if I were a ditch-digger, I think I would dig ditches, donate a portion of the small amount I made, and trust that I had done what I could with the talents I was given.

#VII.

The Jews also talk about how God judges you for your gifts. Rabbi Zusya once said that when he died, he wasn’t worried that God would ask him “Why weren’t you Moses?” or “Why weren’t you Solomon?” But he did worry that God might ask “Why weren’t you Rabbi Zusya?”

And this is part of why it’s important for me to believe in innate ability, and especially differences in innate ability. If everything comes down to hard work and positive attitude, then God has every right to ask me “Why weren’t you Srinivasa Ramanujan?” or “Why weren’t you Elon Musk?”

If everyone is legitimately a different person with a different brain and different talents and abilities, then all God gets to ask me is whether or not I was Scott Alexander.

This seems like a gratifyingly low bar.