Home on the Range and Knowledge Gap

When I was early in my “career” years ago, the partner I worked for at EY in the Human Resources Consulting group told me the secret to success.

“Specialize,” he said. “Become an expert in a field. You will always be in demand.”

I had just left a job in strategic marketing consulting—my first job out of college—and was now starting a new job as a compensation consultant. I smiled and thanked him for the advice, all the while thinking I’d die if I had to do the same thing over and over, forever and ever.

I lasted in that role for two years when I decided to go to graduate school in a field completely unrelated to what I studied in college and very different from my consulting job. A year later, I had a new job in organizational change management. Thank god I had something new to learn.

Years later, I read “Range” by David Epstein about how generalists survive in a specialized world. I saw myself in this book, and understood that I was “normal” to want to mix it up and try different things.

I think of this now as I am seven months into a new job as an application Product Owner. The job has been kicking my butt, but I am doing okay. Some people suffer from imposter syndrome when they are in a new role and feel over their heads. I don’t. I feel the struggle is the price of admission. There is a sweet spot between struggling and boredom, and I am trying to work my way to the middle.

Last week, I saw a TikTok from Standford on learning. The professor was addressing freshmen, showing the gap being unknowing and knowing, and how the path isn’t linear. In fact, it is a messy, scribbly line that loops all over the place. Tolerance for struggling is what helps us persevere to get from one point to another. 

As a free range generalist, I understand the concept but it doesn’t make it easier as I am adapting to a new role. I love that I am a ranger, someone who hasn’t been doing the same thing for decades.

I need to learn to love the rest of it, the hard parts that Epstein doesn’t discuss— the uncomfortable transitions between new roles, and what that looks like when we are waiting for the next idea or thing to arrive.