Samuel Huntington passed away this week. I have been reading his obituaries with great interest. I was familiar with his ideas, but not with his life story.
Born in New York City on April 18, 1927, the son of a journalist and a writer, Samuel Phillips Huntington attended Stuyvesant High School, graduated from Yale at 18, served briefly in the Army, did graduate work at the University of Chicago and Harvard, and began teaching government at Harvard when he was 23.
Ugh. I'm such a failure.
Apt. 11d 
And his diss still holds up. In fact, you won’t find a civ-mil relations piece (many here or here) without it in the bib.
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And I bet that Huntington never mixed up the days that his grades were due causing no end of happiness and joy at the registrar’s office this morning.
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Less competition in those days. The folks getting on board the academic train now, though… wow! I’m inclined to think there’s a lot of luck, and it’s not so much a matter of virtue, once you reach a sort of threshold of competence.
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Huntington didn’t have to chase cute boys and never knew about the Cactus Cafe ; ) You’re not a failure–you were exploring other things in life.
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You’re reading Outliers… don’t you see how Huntington’s circumstances/time (not to mention gender, of course) gave him different opportunities?
You are way too hard on yourself.
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Absolutely. I was thinking the same thing. But Huntington was an exceptionally smart guy, too. He was still able to write great, and controversial, stuff now, even when the field is crowded with smart, ambitious people.
And gender. HUGE. Gladwell hasn’t even mentioned that little old factor yet and I’m page 177. That will be part of a huge rant tomorrow.
Yes, I guess I wouldn’t be the person I am today without doing body shots at the Cactus Cafe, but I did think that big fame would have happened to me already.
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