Specific Knowledge Can Only Be Found
Specific knowledge can’t be taught. It can only be found. Not in a syllabus. Not in a bootcamp. Not in a checklist. You discover it the way a sculptor discovers the statue.
By removing everything that isn’t you.
It hides in the work you do when nobody is watching. In the tabs you keep open after midnight. In the problems you solve for fun and then realize people would pay for. If it looks like play to you and work to others, you’re getting warm.
School gives you general knowledge - scarce in diplomas, abundant in the world. The market pays for specific knowledge - scarce in the world, abundant in you.
Credentials scale signaling. Specific knowledge scales outcomes.
You don’t design it from first principles; you uncover it by first obsessions. Follow the trail of genuine curiosity. Curiosity is a Geiger counter. When it clicks, dig. When it goes quiet, move.
Specific knowledge is found at edges; between fields, at weird intersections.
Math + Music.
Law + Code.
Fitness + Finance.
The edges look like detours until they become the map.
You don’t get it by asking “What should I learn?” You get it by asking “What feels like a secret to me?” The secret isn’t hidden from the world. It’s hidden from you by your own conformity.
Envy is a compass. Who are you jealous of in a grateful way? They’re doing a version of your path. Imitate their direction, not their form.
There are three signals.
Time dilation - you forget to check the clock.
Energy gain - you finish tired but charged.
Asymmetric results - small pushes move big stones.
If all three show up, don’t ignore them.
You can’t A/B test a life. You can run many small experiments. Ship tiny proofs. Follow pull, not push. When strangers ask “How did you do that?” you’ve hit a seam.
Specific knowledge resists automation and instruction. It compounds with reputation and leverage. Code, media, capital, and people amplify it, but they don’t create it. You bring the spark. Leverage is just wind.
Beware borrowed desires. The crowd will sell you their goals. Your algorithm is quieter. It speaks in boredom and obsession. Boredom says you’re off the path. Obsession says keep going.
You don’t need permission. You need repetitions. Reps turn taste into judgment. Judgment turns effort into results. Eventually, your name becomes a filter. People come for your way, not just your work.
If you can be trained to do it, a cheaper model will replace you. If you had to live to learn it, no one can.
That is the moat.
How to start? List the things you can’t not do. Keep only the ones that create value for someone, somewhere. Spend a decade making those inevitable.
Ignore applause.
Track truth.
Specific knowledge is a mirror you polish by doing. Keep polishing. One day, you’ll look up and realize: you didn’t find it.
It found you when you were finally being yourself.