Book Review: Range
Dilettante:
A person having a superficial interest in an art or a branch of knowledge : DABBLER
— Merriam Webster Dictionary
Imagine the following young person’s career journey:
First, they go to Stanford and can’t choose just one single thing to study, so they double-major in biology and political science. After graduation, they join Al Gore’s (first) failed political campaign for president in the 80s. When that is a bust, they travel to the UK to get an MA in Philosophy from Oxford. Next, they become a healthcare researcher for a senator in Tennessee, only to decide to leave for medical school. While enjoying studying to be a doctor, they get antsy after two years and drop out for a position in the Bill Clinton administration focused on healthcare reform. Unfortunately, those efforts at legislation stalled and were ruthlessly attacked in the press, so they decided to return to medical school, this time graduating with both an MD and a Masters of Public Health (MPH). They would go on to complete a general surgery residency, although during that time they began dabbling as a writer for the New Yorker, and eventually several best-selling non-fiction books.
How would you describe that person?
Flaky?
Unfocused?
A dilettante?
The person described above is Dr. Atul Gawande, a respected surgeon and Rhodes Scholar, MacArthur “genius” grant recipient, public health researcher, policy wonk, and writer. Several of his New Yorker articles influenced provisions in the 2010 Affordable Care Act, and his book “The Checklist Manifesto” lead to substantial reductions in surgical complications by implementing the safe surgery check-list. He would be the first to describe himself as “a professional dilettante.” Yet far from being a liability, his winding journey is likely the very reason he has had such an impact in so many areas.
Dr. Gawande is an excellent example of the principle of “range,” or breadth of experience, explored at length in David Epstein’s excellent book of the same name. “Range” is a thought-provoking deep dive into the value of a wide-ranging skillset in a world that often emphasizes specialization. I can’t remember exactly when this book first got on my radar because it has been so frequently recommended by friends, podcasts, and articles, and with good reason. Through a combination of compelling anecdotes about people as diverse as Vincent Van Gogh and Charles Darwin, well-researched studies, and insightful analysis, Epstein challenges the prevailing notion that hyper-specialization is the key to success and argues that a more diverse and adaptable approach to learning can lead to better outcomes in a rapidly evolving society.
Similar to Atul Gawande, Epstein himself exemplifies the concept of range:
“I never expected that my path from science into writing would go through work as the overnight crime reporter at a New York City tabloid, nor that I would shortly thereafter be a senior writer at Sports Illustrated, a job that, to my own surprise, I would soon leave. I began worrying that I was a job-commitment-phobic drifter who must be doing this whole career thing wrong. Learning about the advantages of breadth and delayed specialization has changed the way I see myself and the world.”
One of the central themes of "Range" is the concept of "kind" vs. "wicked" learning environments: Epstein explains that while specialized training might be advantageous in predictable and well-structured environments with repetitive procedures like golf or chess or surgery (kind learning), it is the generalists who thrive in the far more common uncertain and dynamic situations (wicked learning). Drawing from fields as diverse as sports, music, and science, Epstein highlights how the ability to draw upon insights from various domains can lead to breakthroughs that elude those trapped within narrow expertise.
Perhaps unsurprising for a former sports journalist, the book opens by contrasting the careers of Tiger Woods and Roger Federer. Tiger exemplifies the “cult of the head start,” which pushes early immersion and specialization in one area. The idea is related to the concept of the “10,000 Hour Rule” that states a large body of experience and repetition is necessary for peak skill and success. Indeed, he started playing golf at two years old and was rigorously coached by his dad. In contrast, Roger Federer, who remained one of the world’s best tennis players into his thirties (when most players are considered past their prime), did not actually start with early intense tennis training, or even playing the sport at all! He dabbled at a variety of sports in middle and high school ranging from soccer to swimming, wrestling, and even skateboarding, along with a passion for music. He finally started taking the sport more seriously in his teens, far later than the conventional wisdom for elite athletes.
Wandering through different interests and pursuits until we find the right fit is actually how most of us experience life and work:
“[In one longitudinal career study] It turned out virtually every person had followed what seemed like an unusual path. “What was even more incredible is that they all thought they were the anomaly,” Ogas said. Forty-five of the first fifty subjects detailed professional paths so sinuous that they expressed embarrassment over jumping from thing to thing over their careers.”
Epstein also discusses Phil Tetlock and his famous experiments on prospectively evaluating the ability of so-called experts to accurately forecast future events. His research turned up some interesting results:
“The average expert was a horrific forecaster. Their areas of specialty, years of experience, academic degrees, and even (for some) access to classified information made no difference. They were bad at short-term forecasting, bad at long-term forecasting, and bad at forecasting in every domain. When experts declared that some future event was impossible or nearly impossible, it nonetheless occurred 15 percent of the time. When they declared a sure thing, it failed to transpire more than one-quarter of the time. The Danish proverb that warns “It is difficult to make predictions, especially about the future,” was right. Dilettantes who were pitted against the experts were no more clairvoyant, but at least they were less likely to call future events either impossible or sure things, leaving them with fewer laugh-out-loud errors.”
While these were humbling results, there were some experts who were able to consistently do better at predictions than others. What characteristics differentiated the successful from the failed prognosticators?
“…one subgroup within the experts that managed to see more of what was coming. Unlike [the most incorrect experts], they were not vested in a single approach. They were able to take from each argument and integrate apparently contradictory worldviews… The integrators outperformed their colleagues on pretty much everything, but they especially trounced them on long-term predictions. Eventually, Tetlock conferred nicknames (borrowed from philosopher Isaiah Berlin) that became famous throughout the psychology and intelligence-gathering communities: the narrow-view hedgehogs, who “know one big thing,” and the integrator foxes, who “know many little things.”
Incredibly, the hedgehogs performed especially poorly on long-term predictions within their domain of expertise. They actually got worse as they accumulated credentials and experience in their field. The more information they had to work with, the more they could fit any story to their worldview.”
One harrowing chapter late in the book discusses how failure to think outside one’s normal operating conditions can lead to catastrophe. It begins by describing a famous case study at Harvard Business School. Students are given a scenario on whether or not their company should race a car which has had intermittent engine problems due to unknown causes and only partial, ambiguous data (some of it qualitative and subjective). Backing out of the race could be very damaging financially and in terms of company reputation. Virtually all students who take the course routinely make the GO decision to race.
It turns out that this scenario about a hypothetical race car is actually closely based on the NASA Challenger shuttle explosion, down to the real data students analyze on engine issues by temperature. Many of the characters and quotes in the case materials are directly drawn from real engineers and managers involved. The point is crystal clear: the ability to see outside perspectives to push back against groupthink can be a matter of life and death.
Throughout the book, Epstein is careful not to dismiss the value of specialization entirely. You certainly wouldn’t want a generalist consultant with a BA in economics doing your spinal surgery! He acknowledges that there are situations where deep expertise is essential, but he emphasizes the importance of cultivating a "range" of skills and knowledge that can enhance one's adaptability and problem-solving abilities.
In summary, "Range" is a well-researched and engaging book that challenges conventional wisdom and encourages readers to adopt a more holistic approach to learning and skill development. Epstein's writing is accessible and insightful, making complex ideas easy to grasp. Whether you're a student, professional, or someone seeking personal growth, this book invites you to reevaluate your approach to learning and consider the benefits of embracing a broader intellectual foundation. In a world that increasingly values specialization, "Range" is a refreshing and timely reminder that the path to success is not always a straight line. Through its compelling narratives and evidence-based arguments, the book empowers readers to embrace their curiosity, explore diverse interests, and cultivate a range of skills that can lead to both personal fulfillment and professional success.
