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David EpsteinA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Epstein opens Chapter 4 with a story of elite sprint hurdler María José Martínez-Patiño, who discovered only when she was banned from competing in the 1985 World University Games in Japan that she had XY chromosomes—a combination that usually signifies “male.” As Epstein says, however, “Neither body parts nor the chromosomes within them unequivocally differentiate male from female athletes” (59).
Epstein discusses the differences between male and female athletes in terms of performance, the biggest discrepancy manifesting in throwing sports. One explanation is that men have longer forearms than women, and the growth of this body part is dictated by the SRY gene, or the sex determining region Y gene, which is a gene on the Y chromosome that acts as a “DNA skeleton key that selectively activates the genes that make the man” (60). All human embryos start out female, and after six weeks, the SRY gene activates the growth of testicles and the cells that will produce testosterone. Targeting skills, used to monitor and catch flying objects, are more advanced in men, likely as a result of testosterone exposure as fetuses. Another gap, the gap in running performance between men and women, is 11% and growing.
The best explanation as to why these gaps exist in athleticism is sexual selection. In species in which the males have a “higher potential reproductive rate” than women (65-66), like humans and gorillas, it’s been found:
[…] that certain traits were selected for in men so that they could hurt, kill, or at least intimidate one another, and that the men who were most successful […] sometimes used that success to mate with multiple women and to have lots of children (66).
It’s also true that, while male and female children are relatively similar in terms of body size and athletic ability before puberty, they differentiate widely after age 14. Epstein explains, “If athletic traits, like throwing punches or rocks, are important to reproduction, they will be magnified during puberty” (67). Women’s abilities often decline after puberty due to weight gain and hip-widening. Men’s advantages include stronger arms, broader shoulders, an ability to use more oxygen than women thanks to a higher red blood cell count, and a lower sensitivity to pain.
Epstein argues, “It is now clear that the genetic advantage of men over women in most sports is so profound that the best solution is to separate them” (69). How to separate them, however, is not so clear. For many professional sports conferences, “testosterone has been deemed the source of male athletic advantage” (70), but women like Martínez-Patiño who are androgen insensitive, meaning their bodies can’t use the testosterone they produce, are overrepresented in sports and perhaps more highly competitive not because of testosterone levels but because “their limbs are longer relative to their bodies, and their average height is several inches taller” (71). Other intersex conditions are also highly represented in the world of sports—a phenomenon that complicates decisions about who can compete in which categories.
Epstein’s final question—“Why are women athletic at all?” (73)—appears to be answerable by the fact that selection doesn’t eliminate qualities that are essential in one sex but not harmful in the other (like nipples in men). As Epstein puts it, “nature has left humans with a system whereby—instead of great numbers of genes changing—hormones can selectively activate genes to different effect” (74).
Chapter 5 opens with a five-page profile of Olympic runner Jim Ryun. It wasn’t until Ryun was in high school that he dedicated himself to training and made vast improvements in a short amount of time. Epstein offers up Ryun as an example of trainability, a quality that appears to be genetically present in some people and that allows for improvement with training way beyond the capacity of people without that genetic asset.
A 1992 project called HERITAGE that combined the forces of five universities in the United States and Canada sought to test how identical exercise regimens affected different people. The test group included groups of family members, an approach that allowed researchers to look at how DNA influenced results. Researchers used a metric of aerobic capacity, or “the amount of oxygen a person’s body can use when he or she is running or cycling all out” (80), to monitor a person’s aerobic improvement. In 2011, the HERITAGE group “identified twenty-one gene variants—slightly different versions of genes between people—that predict the inherited component of an individual subject’s aerobic improvement” (82). A further study revealed that “certain genes, though present in all subjects, were more or less active in highly trainable people compared with less trainable people” (83). In other words, some people are high responders, and others are low responders, to training.
Epstein tells a story from his own life about him and a Columbia University track teammate named Scott. Scott entered school a better runner than Epstein—he had a high baseline—but as the two men trained, Epstein made more drastic improvements, while Scott plateaued. This led to what Epstein now believes is a misconstruing of the genetic facts into moralistic judgments on the two runners: Scott was seen as a gifted athlete wasting his talent by not training hard enough, while Epstein was rewarded for overcoming his personal challenges through training. Epstein now believes both men trained in the exact same ways, with the likely difference being that Epstein is a genetic high responder.
One study of 1,900 young men found that six, termed the “naturally fit six” (91), had the aerobic capacity of collegiate runners despite having “no history of training whatsoever” (91). This demonstration of natural fitness, and the data about trainability, leads Epstein to investigate whether someone might have “elite-level aerobic endurance before training” (90). The journey and achievements of Chrissie Wellington, a British triathlete who won the Ironman World Championship in 2007 as a rookie after coming to the sport late in life, seems to be one example. Her story, complete with details of cycling effortlessly at high altitudes while practicing in Nepal, is full of evidence that she possesses a high baseline endurance.
The data of the “naturally fit six,” if extrapolated, would suggest that “there are more than 100,000 naturally fit people in the United States between the ages of twenty and sixty-five” (95). This figure leads Epstein to wonder “whether every professional endurance athlete in history might not have started as a member of the naturally fit fraternity” (95).
Epstein closes the essay with more evidence about genetic trainability: another story about Jim Ryun, who, when he gave up running and stopped training, saw his aerobic capacity decrease. Then, when he started training again, his aerobic capacity went back up to its exact levels from before he quit.
Chapter 6 opens with a story about a newborn baby in Germany who was born with “bulging biceps.” This “Superbaby” piqued the interest of scientists who had formerly been studying a gene that produced “double muscle” in mice. That gene and its protein, both called myostatin, signal the stoppage of muscle growth. In the absence of that gene, animals (including humans) grow more muscle. Cows bred for more meat, whippets (a kind of dog) bred for racing, and thoroughbred racehorses all benefit from a myostatin mutation.
Scientists aim to use myostatin-based treatments for people with muscle-wasting diseases and in anti-aging therapies, but the prospect of building more muscle mass without genetic inhibitors is attractive to athletes, too. Geneticist Se-Jin Lee, who first identified the gene in mice, “is troubled by the apparent willingness of athletes to abuse technology that isn’t even technology yet, and that is meant for patients with no other options” (105).
Aside from genetic mutations, other genetic differences affect a person’s ability to build muscle mass. Satellite cells, or stem cells, that “swoop in to patch and build the muscle, bigger and better” (107) are one such difference. Studies measuring muscle growth demonstrated what the HERITAGE study revealed about endurance training: some people are high responders, and some are low. Furthermore, muscles are made of two types of fibers, fast-twitch and slow-twitch, and “some athletes have greater muscle growth potential than others because they start with a different allotment of muscle fibers” (109). Athletes with more fast-twitch fibers do better at sprinting sports, whereas athletes with more slow-twitch fibers do better at endurance sports.
On the topic of training, evidence suggests athletes “gravitate to and succeed in their sports because of how they’re already built” (110). Epstein adds, “both gene and fiber type data suggest that innate qualities of each individual ensure that there is no one-size-fits-all sport or method of training” (111). Athletes in sports like soccer, where all the members of the team train in the same way despite possessing different skills and genetic makeups, potentially suffer for this one-size-fits-all training.
Chapter 4 dives into the differences in athletic performance between men and women, but Epstein, true to an approach he maintains throughout the book, doesn’t explore these differences merely by focusing on those examples that fit neatly into the binary. He also studies the grey area for answers, and in this case, the grey area is represented by intersex individuals and people with chromosomal variations, whose examples teach us something about the way the Y chromosome, and testosterone levels, influence physical development and athletic ability. Epstein discusses ways in which the truths about biology complicate the human-run world of sports—for example, the unsatisfying parameters for dividing athletes by sex, the flawed methods by which elite sports organizations have tested for sex over time, and the troubling experiences of athletes who don’t fit into the binary. Epstein relies on evolutionary theory here, and in subsequent chapters, to give greater context to genetic science.
Chapter 5 explores the topic of genetic trainability, bolstering the discussion with findings from the revolutionary HERITAGE study that found that some people are genetic high responders to training. Epstein is careful not to come to conclusions about which specific genes or gene networks predict trainability, citing gaps in science’s precise understanding of the complex human genome. However, it does seem clear that the best combination for athletic achievement in endurance sports, therefore, is someone with a high baseline aerobic capacity and the genetic trait of high trainability. In his pattern of tying the science of sports to the social aspect of sports, Epstein takes a second look at the narratives surrounding athletes who plateau. These athletes, like the one he knew in college, may be examples of people with high baseline ability and low responses to training. He similarly debunks a narrative around his own collegiate achievement, one that lauded his apparent conquest of obstacles when, in fact, Epstein may simply be an athlete with a low baseline aerobic capacity and a high trainability. Epstein establishes a pattern of using the science he uncovers to disentangle biased or inaccurate storytelling around sports. Along those lines, he interprets data from a study of Japanese male distance runners to suggest that young athletes might self-select out of sports when they stop responding to training, leaving only the high responders to move onto elite levels of sports.
Chapter 6 expands the idea of high responders to the world of muscle-building. Epstein details the trials on mice that revealed the myostatin gene and the discovery that that gene inhibits muscle growth. Epstein discusses the potential abuses of gene therapies by athletes, but he also quotes one expert who believes gene-doping is only problematic when it’s unsafe. Per his style, Epstein includes specific stories of outlier athletes where this science plays out—for example, a kayaker who switches from short- to long-distance races based on his muscle fiber types. Epstein also establishes a pattern of connecting humans to the natural world through his inclusion of other animals (here it’s whippets, horses, and cows) in the conversation about genetic diversity.