Generally

I love experts. Really. I love experts. I love experts on anything. It is impossible to have a boring conversation with an expert who is still thinking about her field. As long as the expert still cares and pays attention to his field, I want to talk to him. Experts are sometimes reluctant to talk about their field, ‘cause they’re afraid they’re boring you or because it can be a lot of work to talk to laypeople. But when they’ll let me, I will sit and interrogate someone for two or three hours. I really want to know what it is like to think like them. The best questions are general: ‘and then what?’, ‘how does that work?’, ‘does that part suck?’, ‘is that part like the conventional wisdom?’. The other thing I love about true enthusiasts is that the more dedicated and knowledgeable they are, the more prosaic they get. They don’t mystify or glorify or obscure things. “Well, yeah,” they say. “That part is a pain in the ass. But is it worth it when it makes this other part possible.” When they get to the core of their expertise, the part they can’t explain, they aren’t coy about that either. “I just know, because I’ve done it thousands of times.” “My way isn’t the perfect way, but it is the way I like it best, and I’ve tried lots of things.”

One of the best things about this huge world is that there is so much for people to be expert in. I am jealous of them. I want their eyes. It was amazing to go out on Sherry’s boat and know that she was monitoring dozens or hundreds of tells about sailing, only consciously thinking about some of them, and only saying six or seven of them out loud. I can’t believe what people know. I know I am also like that in a couple fields, but I am freshly jealous every time I find a new way that people know something that well. I am also ridiculously disappointed every time I run into someone who disparages that ability in her or himself or won’t tell me. I swear I want to hear it.