scarlettina | On being a generalist

On being a generalist

I have a friend, MS, who is a hugely gifted puzzle designer. He's got a mind that is at once mathematical in its precision and astonishing, almost Daliesque, in its creativity. He's a prodigy. He's also worked extremely hard to become who he is and be brilliant at what he does. Years ago, he and I had a conversation in which I expressed envy at this enormous gift of his. I'll never forget what he said to me in response. He said, "I'm freakishly good at this one thing. But do you know, I can't for the life of me figure out how to use an electric can opener? I'm a specialist. But if I weren't married to a generalist, I'd starve. The world needs generalists. I envy you."

The grass is always greener, isn't it?

I'm a generalist. I don't know that I'll ever make peace with it, but it's true. I look at friends who are specialists (and I'm sure a couple of names leap immediately to mind), I love and admire them for their brilliance and perseverance, I envy the hell out of them, and despair at what I often see as my own inadequacy. The truth is that I'm pretty good at a great many things, but I'm not a prodigy at any one particular thing. Part of it is, I admit, that I don't always apply myself in the way that I might. Is it laziness? Perhaps. It's also that so many things got thwarted for me when I was a kid that I got into the habit of thinking that some things just weren't worth the effort; they'd be taken away from me anyway. (I wanted to play the violin. My mother didn't "want to have to listen to that scratching every day," so I ended up studying flute. And then she wondered why getting me to practice was such a struggle. I gave up the flute, partly because my mom's position was that if I wasn't going to practice the way she thought I should, she shouldn't spend the money. The end.) Now, at this advanced age, I find myself unwilling to give up any one of the many things I love to do. Without concentration, there is no specialty, no true excellence. So here I am: a generalist.

There is goodness in this, I know. It's fun to have my fingers in so many different pots. I love it that I can string beautiful jewelry, occasionally write fiction worthy of publication, sing well enough to be a featured performer, and so on. But the truth is that it's unlikely (not impossible, surely, but unlikely) that I'll ever be a star at any one of these things unless I make a radical shift in my thinking and habits.

The next logical question is: Do I want to be a specialist badly enough to give up all the other things I love? Well, that is the question, isn't it?

In my heart, I'm pretty sure the answer is "no."

So the trick is making peace with that. It makes me a little itchy sometimes, makes me feel just not good enough, makes me feel like there's something fundamentally wrong with me somehow. But as I said above: focusing on one thing above all others means all those other things fall away. I don't really want them to.

So here I am: A generalist who longs to be a specialist right up until she realizes she'd have to stop being a generalist to do it. I suspect it will always be this way. I'll always have this push-me-pull-you sensation about me. The most I can hope for is that, if nothing else, it makes me at least as interesting as all those specialists I love.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I fear I'm in the same boat with you...

Oh, don't be afraid of it, my dear. Good writer, good photographer, good teacher. These are things that many specialists would envy.

Oh, man I could have written this post, and yeah, the making peace with it part drives me crazy as well.

Although there are areas of expertise where I can be effective as a specialist, I think I fall into the generalist category better too.

Oh, me too. Me too.

I look at interests this way as well. Like, I'd really like to be into comics. And I'd really like to be (back) into games. And I'd really like to collect old cameras. And I'd really like to...

It never ends unless I stop before I start. I'm pretty damned happy with my choices. I've built my day job life around being a highly capable generalist. The one place I've really sunk time and energy into being a specialist is my fiction career.

Even that gives me choice angst.

You're good, babe, you're good.

Hm. I don't know if I'm more specialist at heart. I do waft off into other artistic areas for a while, then wander off for another while, then come back. With writing, it's pretty much a constant.

I knew a guy who was such a specialist he played pipe organ at St. Patrick's Cathedral, but he had trouble with everyday things like remembering fare and toll money to get to and from work.

Your pipe organ player is like my friend MS the puzzle designer.

And, ya know, call me crazy, but I think you fall into the category of specialist.

::waving hand:: Add me to the list of generalists.

I think it's in large part because I love learning about stuff and I love variety in life. And that must appear so strange to some who may think that "all I do is sit in front of the computer." First, that's not all I do, and second, this guy is my window into the world.

I look at much of older generations and some of mine and see those who have been in the same job for 20, 30, or more years, including M's father. I cannot imagine that. There's too much to explore and learn about out there. But, alas, it sure cuts down on long-term 401(k)s and pensions.

Great, thoughtful topic.

I think it's in large part because I love learning about stuff and I love variety in life.

That's it. That's exactly it! If I have to focus, it means I'm missing out on other stuff. It's kind of like being a 7-year-old: I don't want to go to bed at 8 PM because all the interesting stuff happens after I hit the sack!

I look at much of older generations and some of mine and see those who have been in the same job for 20, 30, or more years, including M's father. I cannot imagine that.

I think that's different, though. That's being a specialist out of social expectation and sometimes not out of choice. I think you're right that it's a generational thing.

Echoing the cries of "discontent generalist here". One of my greatest frustrations in that I'm pretty good ("extra competent") at a lot of things, which means people like me in my workplace, but then I plateau our my skill level and I think they (and to an extent, my own misguided self) thought I was a specialist.

But no, I'm just really competent, and for some reason, that alone makes me stick out, but ultimately seems to mean I also disappoint people when they realize I'm not a prodigy.

It effects other things I do. My beading is nice but not nearly as inspired as others I know. I can draw more than stick figures, but not as well as my artist friends. One of the hardest is that I used to be able to sing incredibly well (especially for having no vocal training), but that's something I've truly lost over the years.

I constantly joke that "not being a good writer never stopped me from loving the act of writing my stories", but that's mostly a built-in defensive mechanism to protect myself from knowing I don't get to be a specialist at that, either, when it's one of the greatest joys/most important things in my life but I doubt I'll ever be good enough for the "big time" or even the "small time" in terms of publication.

This is my long way, I suppose, of saying, "I think I feel the same way you do."

I would consider myself a generalist as well.
Part of the "curse" of growing up with a tag or label like "genius" came with the expectations that I would become a specialist in some field.
That day hasn't happened, and if it were up to me (which it mostly is) it won't. For reasons listed above and more, there is simply too much of a love for learning new things.
I'm happy in being a generalist. There's freedom in not being tied down to one specific niche.

Just reading the comments, it looks as if you're in very good company...add me to the list too, although sometimes I like to think my specialty is being able to do so many things...I'm a prodigy of quantity!

"A prodigy of quantity"

I like that phrase.

Also? Love the icon. I may have to steal it for myself....

Yay!

Oh, and steal away!

This rang painfully true to me. I love being a generalist, but sometimes think this has hurt me careerwise.

Take school. Would I have been smarter to have gone into the nonfiction program and built on what I already know? Two years later, I still ask myself that question. I suspect on a practical level might have been smarter, but what I chose to do instead opened me up creatively in ways that the other would never have done.

Specialists have the obvious advantage that they seem special even to strangers. And who doesn't want to be recognized as special? Generalists seems unexceptional to strangers, but those who know them well know just how special they are.

How succinctly put, and somehow, very comforting.

Maybe being A generalist who longs to be a specialist gives you the energy to be good at what you put your mind to.

For me, specializing in photography has come about because every other interest has collapsed painfully. Sometimes I think I'd like to be a writer (except I never wrote), I'd like to be a clown (but I didn't like dealing with other actors), etc. But this is the way things have worked out.

I'm going to buck the trend of the comments above and admit to being a specialist. At least, my brain is structured enough for me to be a specialist. I am freakishly good at my job. My boss assigns me work that generally wouldn't be entrusted to someone with twice my experience. However, I refuse to let myself go down that path. Yes, I could spend my weekends reading trade journals instead of science fiction. Yes, I could go back to school and concentrate on research (and attempt to ignore my lack of income). If I did these things and applied myself, I could be the next Karl Terzaghi (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karl_Terzaghi)...that is, one of the most recognized names in the industry.

You know what? I love my job. But I refuse to let that one thing define me. Most of the other things I do, I learned through incredible persistence. For example, when I started playing guitar 17 years ago, I was tone deaf. It took me 3 years before I could even tune the stupid thing. Even all these years later, I'm only a passable musician - I'll never be great.

The moral of the story: you're exactly right. While you and your fellow generalists all secretly wish you could be really good at something, us specialists all secretly long to have a broader base to work from. I guess there's something about human nature that never lets us be completely happy with who we are.

::chuckle:: Damn that grass!

Me too, me too! Compared to the people I know and admire, I know nothing, can do nothing, and be never more than passable at a given skill, if that. In the first half of my life, when I might have been able to get lessons and do something about the things I have some amount of talent in, I was unable to make any of those things happen. The one exception to this was college, where my talent for writing and analysis got honed to some degree. Now I'm single and starting to make up for lost time a bit, but I know that being a specialist is largely beyond me now; maybe someday when the kiddos are grown, but not at this point. But then I'd have to decide "specialist in what?" and I'm not sure I can make that decision. :)

Me? Do you expect me to disagree with this assessment? Mr. "One Paycheck Away From Working At McDonald's"? The degree I'm getting now defines generalist. And I, too, started out to be a specialist.

Just remember that specialization leads to extinction. The human race has been successful because we're generalists.

Point taken. We can use electric can openers! :-)

I'm a generalist, and I like it. I like having lots of hobbies, and interests. I like knowing a little bit about many things. The brilliant specialists I've known have never seemed....happy.

"Jack of All Trades - Master of None". That's me. :P

I prefer the term "renaissance woman" or "dilettante", though. They have a bit more. . . cachet.

I also console myself with some findings published in the Harvard Business Review: when hiring for a senior position, specific applicable experience is not a good indicator for success, while general abilities (to think on one's feet, interact well with people, etc.) are a much better indicator. So perhaps my lack of a "field" shouldn't bother me so much. :)

I like to think that maybe you specialize at being a generalist?

generalist, specialist, generalist, specialist, generalist, specialist, admiralqueue?

Maybe I'm just a fretfullist...

You have put into words the frustration and confusion I often feel. I know where you're coming from.

Shall we use the word polymath instead?

"a person of great learning in several fields of study; polyhistor.

[Origin: 1615–25; < Gk polymaths learned, having learned much, equiv. to poly- poly- + -mathés, adj. deriv. of manthánein to learn]"

(Random House Unabridged Dictionary 2006)

I read this entry & its comments and thought, "I'm a generalist! No, wait, I'm a specialist! No, wait. . ."

I'd call myself a jack of all trades master of none, but then I stop and remember some of the "trades" in question:

- low-polgonal 3D environment modeling for real-time use
- audio engineering > studio engineering specialty > non-linear editing subspecialty
- Scotch single malt whisky affinity, particularly the island varieties, most particularly those from Islay

and so on. . .

The thing I've noticed most from being this kind of person is that if you have a layman's knowledge of a great many things and an expert knowledge of some, people "carry over" being impressed with your knowledge level and tend to think you have an expertise in any topic you can address intelligently.

(Ex: I have a terrible secret - though some consider me an expert on the works of Shakespeare, I haven't read the majority of his plays. . . including Macbeth and King Lear. I have read quirky relatively unknown ones like Measure for Measure, which makes people assume I finished the biggies and then moved on down the canon. Nope, I just went off rabbit-trailing into the obscure ones.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

On being a generalist

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

strangers and friends

Re: strangers and friends

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Generalist?

no subject

no subject