High Expectations, Low Standards: Building Atomic Habits

One of the most powerful questions I’ve come across in recent years comes from James Clear, the author of Atomic Habits: “Do you want the result, or do you want the lifestyle that produces the result?” As a coach, that question resonated immediately — because it perfectly describes the most troubling shift I’ve witnessed in youth athletics over the last decade.

Today, I see more athletes than ever who carry extremely high expectations alongside surprisingly low standards. They want Division I commitments. They want junior hockey opportunities. They want ice time, power-play minutes, and recognition. They talk about playing at the next level and often believe they’re destined to get there. Yet many are unwilling to consistently do the things those goals actually require.

The Athletes Who Made It

Throughout my career developing athletes in the Buffalo hockey community, I’ve had the privilege of working with players who reached every level of the game — junior hockey, Division I, and professional contracts. When I think back to those athletes, regardless of talent level, they all shared one defining characteristic: they were obsessed with improvement. Their mindset was never centered on what they were getting. It was centered on what they could become.

The conversations were different. They weren’t asking why they weren’t on a certain line or why someone else was getting more ice time. They were asking what more they could do. How could they improve their skating? How could they get stronger? What should they be eating? How could they recover better? How could they gain an edge? They understood that if they became good enough, the opportunities would follow.

That focus and determination hasn’t changed for the athletes who are currently competing at the Division I and professional levels. They don’t skip speed sessions. They don’t disappear on weekends. They don’t take random weeks off. They are constantly searching for another edge because they understand exactly how competitive their environment is. The hunger that drove them as younger players never left — it intensified. That’s not a coincidence. That’s who they always were.

What I’m Seeing at 16 and 18

The athletes in the 16U and 18U range present a very different picture. There is a passivity in many of them that I didn’t see in earlier generations at the same age. They’re less independent. Less self-directed. They wait to be told what to do rather than seeking out what needs to be done. The hunger to improve isn’t driving them — external validation is. They’re focused on which team they’re playing for, how much ice time they’re getting, and whether scouts are watching, rather than on the daily process of becoming a better player.

What makes this more striking is the disconnect between expectation and achievement. Some of these athletes were not selected in Tier 1 drafts. Others were selected very late, with hundreds of players chosen ahead of them. Despite receiving little objective evidence that they’re on an elite trajectory, many remain comfortable with the amount of work they’re putting in while still expecting elite outcomes.

They’re perfectly comfortable missing training sessions, skipping development opportunities, and taking extended breaks — yet many genuinely believe they’ll end up in the same place as the athletes who are relentlessly investing in themselves every single day.

That’s not how development works.

A Theory Worth Considering

One explanation I keep coming back to is COVID. The athletes who are currently 16 to 18 years old experienced some of their most critical developmental years during a period of isolation, canceled seasons, virtual learning, and reduced social interaction. These are the years when young people normally develop accountability, discipline, resilience, and independence — not in a classroom, but through the daily grind of competing alongside peers and navigating adversity in real time.

When those experiences were disrupted, the damage went beyond athletic development. It affected the formation of habits, routines, and personal responsibility. Many of these athletes lost years of daily structure that traditionally help build work ethic. The result, in many cases, is a generation that’s still waiting to be led rather than learning to lead themselves.

The Younger Athletes Are a Different Story

What gives me genuine optimism is what I’m seeing at the younger end of the spectrum. The athletes I’m currently working with — many born around 2013, 2014, and 2015 — are a throwback to the older athletes who are now playing at the Division I and professional levels. They are focused. They are hungry. They are disciplined. They ask questions. They want to understand skating mechanics, movement quality, nutrition, and recovery. They’re not waiting to be pointed in a direction — they’re already moving.

Rather than asking why they aren’t getting opportunities, they’re asking what they have to do to earn them. There is a drive in these younger athletes that feels very familiar — the same quality I saw in players who eventually made it to the highest levels of the game. Something in the culture appears to be correcting itself, and these kids are evidence of it.

Parents deserve credit for this shift as well. The best families I’ve worked with have always understood that growth comes before recognition and that adversity is one of the greatest teachers a young athlete can have. More parents today seem to be returning to that mindset — emphasizing development, habits, and accountability over outcomes, rankings, and exposure.

The Standard That Never Changes

After 25 years of coaching, one truth remains constant: the athletes who reach elite levels are rarely the ones obsessed with the destination. They are obsessed with the process. They understand that success is built through thousands of ordinary decisions that nobody sees. They know that motivation comes and goes, but commitment is a choice made daily.

The best athletes I’ve ever coached were never satisfied — not because they lacked confidence, but because they were constantly searching for ways to improve. They didn’t just want the result. They embraced the lifestyle required to achieve it.

And that’s the question every athlete has to answer honestly.

Do you want the result, or do you want the lifestyle that produces the result?

Because the athletes who eventually make it are almost always the ones who fall in love with the process long before they ever experience the reward.

James Clear also wrote, “You do not rise to the level of your goals, you fall to the level of your systems.” I’d extend that directly to every athlete reading this: you don’t rise to the level of your expectations — you fall to the level of your standards. High expectations without high standards aren’t ambition. They’re fantasy. And the scoreboard of development doesn’t lie. What you repeatedly do, or repeatedly fail to do, is exactly where you will end up.

The athletes who make it aren’t just dreamers. They are builders — of habits, of routines, of standards that hold even when nobody is watching. That’s the work. And that’s always been the only way.