Specialisation Is For Insects

We've been sold a story that doesn't quite add up.

Somewhere along the way, we convinced ourselves that mastery means narrowing down, drilling deeper into one thing until you can't see daylight anymore. Become the world's expert in 17th-century Flemish harpsichord tuning. Niche down until you're the only person who does exactly what you do.

And look... I get it. There's safety in that. Security. A clear answer when someone asks what you do at dinner parties.

But life doesn't actually work that way.

I was talking to my nephew last month, brilliant kid, stressed about choosing between engineering and music. Like it's some permanent tattoo on his soul.

And I told him what my grandfather told me years ago while we were fixing an old motorcycle in his garage: "The monkey wrench doesn't apologize for not being a screwdriver."

Stay with me here.

The world tells you to be one tool. Perfect that one function. But the most interesting people I've met - the ones actually living, not just existing - they're the whole damn toolbox.

They cook.

They code.

They understand philosophy and can also fix a leaky faucet.

They've got range. Depth and breadth.

Robert Heinlein said it best: "A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."

Now listen - I'm not saying don't get good at things. Get exceptional at them. But don't let that one thing become your entire identity, your only lens for seeing the world.

Because here's the truth nobody talks about: the most valuable insights come from the intersections. When your knowledge of music informs your approach to mathematics. When your understanding of nature shapes your business strategy. When your experience with heartbreak makes you a better leader.

The Renaissance wasn't called the Renaissance because people got really, really focused.

I'll tell you what - the future belongs to the curious, the connectors, the people brave enough to remain amateurs in new fields while being experts in others. The ones who understand that being fully human means embracing complexity, contradiction, and continuous becoming.

So yeah... specialize if you want. Master your craft. But don't forget to stay wild, stay curious, stay human.

Because insects might survive through specialization, but they never really live.