A recent discussion on David Armano’s blog, Logic + Emotion, has motivated me to clarify what I mean by "generalism." The conversation was started by Dave Gray’s illustration of the "Generalist or Specialist" dichotomy, the key difference being that generalists "are best when defining the problem or goal" [I wouldn't change a word of that.] while "specialists are best at solving the problem or executing the plan."
The sum of Armano’s initial comment was that maybe the diagram should be labelled "Generalist and Specialist," because generalists "can excel at both defining and solving problems," and "specialists can also excel at defining the problem." Subsequent commenters elaborated on the same essential points, reiterating the need to alternate between both attitudes, or "voices," as Christine Martell put it.
I wanted to contribute my own comments but it seemed that everything had already been said as well as it could be – at least everything that could be said without ctrl-alt-deleting the whole discussion. So I decided to reconceive it in my own terms – terms that I’ve been carefully developing for over a year now. A few things need to be clarified.
The first question to consider is whether we’re describing personality traits or prescribing job descriptions. Eventually we’ll try to do both, but it muddles things if we don’t distinguish between intrinsic tendencies and designed intentions; we must be carefully aware of which aspect we’re talking (or even just thinking) about.
The distinction is important, because if we’re talking about professions, disciplines or job descriptions – things we have the ability to design and change – then maybe we shouldn’t be abstractly discussing "generalists or specialists" at all. We’re supposed to change perspectives; only the most rigidly mechanized forms of labour don’t involve some alternation between specific details and a more general patterns and processes. And professions have become so dynamic that any attempt to classify or conceive them statically will crumble in our hands: nothing can be said about them without adding conditions like "sometimes..." and "it depends...."
Conversely, this growing professional dynamism makes it even more necessary to discuss the inherent differences between ‘generalist-types’ and ‘specialist-types,’ so we can more effectively design projects and jobs to suit (and capitalize on) diverse personal strengths.
I normally try to avoid talking about ‘personality types’; I believe it tends to become too reductive – for example, giving too much importance to the "introvert-extrovert" dichotomy, forgetting that it is an artificial (and hypothetical, or provisional) concept – but I suspect that maybe the more ‘personality dimensions’ we have to work with, the less danger there is of reductivism, or attributing too much importance (or concreteness) to any one.
It seems to me that there certainly are some people who are ‘born generalists’ and others who are ‘born specialists’ – that some people are inherently better at defining problems and others are better (or at least more comfortable) executing plans. [And I feel quite strongly about this. I spent most of my life trying to learn how to follow directions and plans; a few years ago I finally realized that I was wasting my time: I’m much better at finding directions and designing plans – thriving in ambiguity and complexity – and those are the skills I decided to focus on and nurture.]
But are "generalist" and "specialist" the best names to use for these two types? If we’re looking at personality differences, much of the existing literature uses the term "creative," and includes generalist tendencies as being a part of creativeness. I don’t know of any studies of creativity that wouldn’t include Gray’s definition of the generalist approach as one of the core attitudes (or traits or styles or whatever you want to call it) of creativity. I’m thinking of work by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Howard Gardner, and Dean Keith Simonton. Dan Pink’s 2006 book, A Whole New Mind is a good introduction to the same general notions. For a more business-minded approach to creativity, look at Roger Martin’s recent articles on topics like "business design," and "integrative thinking."
In my own work I tend to juxtapose the "creative" mindset with the "productive" mindset. I take creativity to mean introducing something really new to the world – not just new versions but completely new classes, types, and species of things. Creativity involves working through ambiguity and complexity to define new roles, rules, boundaries, frameworks, etc.; whereas productivity means working within existing rules and boundaries – producing new copies and versions of things that already exist – perhaps with slight refinements or variations.
Another related distinction I should mention is the one Chris Argyris has often made between "single-loop" and "double-loop learning." Single-loop learning aims to achieve specific results, or maintain certain conditions – Argyris uses the metaphor of a thermostat that is set to a specific temperature. Double-loop learning aims to develop more effective or efficient results to aim for – like changing the temperature that the thermostat is set to maintain.
We might say that creative people are double-loop learners: they are open to new results and conditions – not just aiming to become more effective within a given framework, but designing more effective frameworks and aims. [In my August 19th essay, I began to illustrate this notion of ‘investing’ in concepts – developing better vehicles for effectiveness and growth – making our ideas work for us, rather than merely working for them.]
To be able to change these "boundary conditions" effectively, we need to see from a broad enough perspective: we need to actually recognize the existing boundaries and identify what’s beyond them: we need to see over disciplinary (cubicle?) walls.
Sometimes specialists are unable to do so: some only appreciate their task from the inside; they tacitly take boundaries and roles for granted, and perhaps can’t even explicitly define them. They know when something "isn’t their business" because it doesn’t fit into any of their existing patterns or frames, so they let somebody else take care of it. This kind of focussed, ‘inside’ appreciation is required for effective execution; otherwise everybody would be too distracted by emerging novelties to finish projects they’ve already started [Some exceptionally creative people – eg. Leonardo and Goethe – have been notoriously bad at concentrating on and completing projects.] and everybody would continually meddle and interfere in other people’s tasks, which they’re not equipped to deal with.
But what happens when new challenges emerge that nobody is equipped to deal with? What about new opportunities that don’t fit into anybody’s existing patterns or frames? Such challenges and opportunities are daily realities in some industries – especially disciplines that involve both human and technological factors.
I needn’t remind anyone that technology is changing rapidly. But what many people perhaps don’t appreciate is that technological changes are relatively small and easy to recognize compared to the powerful but subtle changes in the ways people think, work, and live with technology – the way people appropriate novelties and find original and unexpected ways to use them, which in turn generate newer technologies, which in turn...
People must be increasingly aware of the boundaries of their work – being especially careful not to make them too static. Boundaries should be plastic, networks and teams should be fluid, integrated, coherent, and adaptive to new challenges and opportunities. It is no longer acceptable to ignore problems that don’t fit into your job description: chances are that it doesn’t fit into anyone else’s either.
So everybody may have to think or work like a generalist at some point – as several people noted in the Logic + Emotion discussion.
But while being generally open to other roles and new information, it is still necessary to specialize, or cultivate deep professional competencies and expertise. This is what the people at IDEO (among others I’m sure) have been talking about for years, illustrated by their concept of "T-shaped" individuals – people with broad general knowledge, covering many fields, and deep competence in one (or maybe more) specialized discipline. (See Tom Kelley’s Art of Innovation and Ten Faces of Innovation; there are also numerous articles by/about other IDEOers on this concept. Coincidentally, Armano has added his own refinements to the ‘T-shaped’ concept.)
This dynamism is the reason for my earlier claim that perhaps we shouldn’t abstractly discuss "generalist or specialist" job descriptions at all. To ask whether someone is a generalist or a specialist presupposes some kind of permanent arrangement, within which jobs fit as static fixtures – like old tools hung on the wall of grandpa’s garage. But in terms of the moving constellation of marketing, communications, education, and management oriented fields, it just doesn’t seem reasonable to begin with such overtly static assumptions.
However, is it possible to become a purely general generalist? We know there are 'HR generalists,' 'general practitioners' in medicine, and 'general contractors'; but as far as any outsider is concerned, they specialize in HR, medicine, and construction respectively. What might ‘pure generalists’ do – and what effect could they possibly have?
[Originally posted at thecreativegeneralist.blogspot.com, August 26, 2007]
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