Range, by David Epstein

Is it better to be a specialist or a generalist?

I’ve found myself asking this question whenever I think about my career path and how I want to shape my future. I’ve posed this question to mentors and friends, finding that many of those who work in the biotech startup sphere tend to fall on the side of being a generalist. Working in a startup, especially a small startup, forces you to wear multiple hats and perform a wide variety of tasks. Having a working knowledge of how to manage these tasks tends to shape you into more of a generalist. At least this is what I’ve experienced working in a biotech startup, having to learn about the multifaceted processes surrounding drug development, the arcane ins and outs of intellectual property, the spreadsheets with seemingly endless numbers for budget forecasting and accounting, the craft of creating and communicating pitches to very important people, and doing all of these things while keeping an eye on the science.

So, it seems like my career is pointing me towards becoming a generalist. And this is great since I enjoy learning and doing new things. This is why I was excited to read a book about generalists and how they may have advantages over specialists, perhaps thinking that it would help reinforce my attitude toward my current career trajectory.

The book, Range by David Epstein, has the underlying premise that generalists, with their multiple interests and skill sets, are better suited to thrive in the current world than their specialist peers.

Epstein begins by using various vignettes, spanning the sports world and music to psychology and chess, to comparing individuals’ stories about thriving in their respective fields. In some cases, like chess, it appeared that specializing (and specializing early) could be advantageous. But in others, generalists seemed to thrive.

These differences seemed to stem from the types of problems people had to solve. Specialists performed well in “kind” environments, ones with repeating patterns and rapid feedback like chess. Generalists, on the other hand, tended to do well in “wicked” environments, situations with unclear rules, patterns, and feedback. As you can probably guess, most of the things we do in the real world tend to fall into the “wicked” category.

So why do generalists tend to do better in “wicked” environments?

Epstein proposes that the answers relate to the fact that generalists are able to draw from their diversified experiences to help identify patterns and possible answers. This, he argues, leads to more flexibility in their thinking, leading them to come to more innovative solutions.

At some level, this seems to intuitively make sense. Epstein supports his hypothesis by describing the stories of individuals who exhibited these traits which helped them achieve career success. In most cases, the stories he tells are of impressive people who have done incredible things along career paths that zig and zag to the final destination. Many of these stories are uplifting, but, unfortunately, it feels like his entire prosecution of his viewpoint is based on this circumstantial evidence. Without more concrete evidence, his arguments feel shallow, lacking intellectual rigor and making it sometimes feel like he’s cherry picking stories to fit his arguments. While we may be able to identify friends and colleagues that have lived similar experiences as the ones found in Range, I’m also sure that we all know specialists who have excelled and generalists who haven’t. Disappointingly, Epstein never gives much thought to the counterpoint to his central thesis.

The book leaves it up to you to do the critical thinking needed to more conclusively support (or refute) Epstein’s point. This is mirrored by the book’s structure, which also asks the reader to put in a little bit of work. Each chapter of the book is focused on a rough theme and each can be read as almost a standalone work. At times, the theme at the heart of each chapter feels redundant with other parts of the book, but on other occasions, it can be hard to identify how exactly each chapter is supposed to relate to those before and after it. While there’s definitely a central and interesting hypothesis that forms the backbone of the book, the reader is forced to identify how each chapter is connected to the book’s central theme. Sometimes Epstein writes about individuals – like Roger Federer or the inventor of Nintendo – but then discusses organizations like NASA. Trying to keep up with Epstein’s storytelling gymnastics without losing sight of the book’s main point requires some mental exercise from the reader.

While the book may not have been fleshed out enough to convince a specialist to become a generalist, I found the book to be interesting. Or more specifically, I found the book’s central premise interesting. Why does having a wide range of skills, experiences, and hobbies help you solve problems? Shouldn’t the opposite be true? Shouldn’t specialized and deep knowledge in your field better allow you solve the problems you encounter?

Epstein’s presented answer may not be deep enough to fully address these questions, but one thing that became quickly apparent to me was the similarity to Steven Johnson’s Where Good Ideas Come From. Steven Johnson’s book describes how new ideas are formed within organizations of people (companies, cities, universities, etc.), and one of the fundamental characteristics of these innovative organizations is the fluidity of the transfer of ideas among people of different backgrounds. This allows ideas to be expanded upon, repurposed, or combined with other concepts, leading to novel solutions to problems. These solutions may not have occurred without the collisions between ideas from people with different backgrounds.

This seems to readily translate to Epstein’s premise: by having a wide range of skills, hobbies, and experiences, a person is able to assemble a larger palette of ideas that can be combined in new ways to create innovative solutions to problems. This is essentially Johnson’s observation about innovative organizations applied to the individual. Having a wide-ranging and diverse collection of ideas in your head allows for more interesting intellectual collisions, which can yield new approaches to “wicked” challenges. This is the fundamental message that I’m taking away from the book.

This was the February 2020 selection for the Dan & Andy Book Club, a two-person book discussion “club” that was formed mostly as a way to keep two former college roommates in semi-regular contact and encourage each other to read more. Additional book selections may be discussed in future posts.

Thanks to Todd Festerling and QIAGEN for sponsoring the blog.