The way we develop our skills today has been profoundly shaped by the economic model of our time.
The major shift that has been taking place in the West since the beginning of the 20th century is not that we have radically changed our economic model - it had already been in place for a long time - but that the economic principle itself has gradually taken over all areas of our lives, even the most traditionally sacred corners where it was absent and even unwanted.
The trade in death, the trade in births, the trade in sex, the trade in marriage, the trade in adoption, the trade in health, the trade in spirituality. Everything is now included in the great commercial machinery and its corollaries of profit and marketing deception.
Precisely for the sake of profit, the industrial revolution has brought in its wake a division of labor and a specialization of skills that sometimes borders on the absurd, with the hyperspecialized assembly-line model.
This new way of doing things poses a serious problem of synergy, and we are going to see why, because it is not necessarily obvious at first glance.
Hyperspecialization is not humanly acceptable
The first thing to consider is that human beings are by nature versatile. This doesn't mean that they will be good at everything, but that they are not destined to do just one thing. Depending on character, of course, it will be possible to meet people who are more or less spontaneously specialized, but the type of specialization expected by the modern world, and particularly the industrial and computer world, is not humanly liveable. It is even a violent twisting of human nature to suit a profitable (but not necessarily productive, it is an important thing to remember) device.
Sorting toothpicks at the end of an assembly line to distinguish the compliant from the defective is not a natural vocation, and while it is of course possible to meet people whose contentment can be achieved through this kind of activity, that does not mean it will be the only enjoyable activity they can experience or want to experience.
Nevertheless, it is fair to assume the hypothesis that hyperspecialization of this kind can make some people happy somewhere, maybe, for the sake of intellectual honesty. However, it is certain that this model cannot be systematized for humanity without generating unhappiness, and this is the whole point of asking these questions in terms of design.
Hyperspecialization of skills implies hyperspecialization of needs
An engineer specializing in the mechanical strength of the hubs of electric bicycles with a top speed of 50 km/h will not be welcomed with open arms to work in a bakery. The hyperspecialization of skills can only be justified in a world where we seek to meet hyperspecific needs. However, as a result of the scarcity effect, if we relate these needs to the number of inhabitants, we see that the more special a skill is, the greater the number of people needed to make sense of it. In other words, our engineer is more likely to see his skills put to good use in a society of millions than in a village of a thousand.
On the other hand, our bakery will be welcomed in a lot more places, because it is a skill that is not special but basic, necessary from the smallest scales of organization in a society.
This means that the more hyperspecialized skills a company produces, the more dependent it becomes on a system that has to integrate millions of individuals, often even transnationally. Otherwise, it only confers skills that cannot be valorized.
It also means evolving in a complex, even hyper-complex society. For a hyperspeciality that finds value means, upstream, a coherent set of other skills that have interconnected to produce an extremely precise need. The paroxysm of this model can be seen in the IT world, where jobs are created every day to fill a need for very specific technical skills. This same IT world is also rapidly evolving, with hyperspecializations appearing and disappearing very quickly.
Taken to its extreme, this model of hyperspecialization can only make complete sense in a global economy of billions of people, where hypercomplex structures appear from time to time. On a smaller scale, however, this model is ill-suited to the task, as it will not make the most of everyone's hyperspecialization.
Employability and the antagonism of hyperspecialization
However, this impasse can only be verified in a model where we seek to value our skills on a job market, where hyperspecializations are intended to be put into practice on a daily basis.
A bike repairer who happens to be particularly proficient in the subject of fast e-bike hubs may express this skill from time to time, but will not systematically be expected to do so specifically. Above all, he will be a bike repairer.
The monomania of special skills only makes sense in an economic model of specialization through the division of labor. An approach obsessed with maximizing profitability, but blind to synergetic design as I define it, notably on the criteria of efficiency, accessibility, transparency, predictability, simplicity and contentment.
Let's tackle the question of efficiency first, because it is common to see the division-of-labor model as the most efficient. However, it is worth asking "efficient for what?".
Indeed, if we are talking about business profitability, this model can be efficient, yes. But if we are talking about meeting our needs as human beings, we've got a problem. Because the hyperspecialization of skills leads to a proportional increase in the displacement of people and goods.
For example, the specialization of vegetable production presupposes an equivalent need for vegetables. This need can only arise in a society where vegetable production ceases to be domestic (which was the norm in rural areas a few decades ago, and still is today in some regions and countries).
Ironically, the disappearance of domestic food production is partly due to the specialization of work! After all, the same people who have stopped growing their own vegetables are expected to work at least 8 hours a day at a certain, often specialized, job. Moreover, depending on region and budget, this model leads a number of people to buy vegetables that have been grown far from home, then transported and stored, at considerable energy and ecological cost, as well as requiring specific equipment and other skills (such as the ability to drive a 50-ton truck 12 hours a day, or the skills needed to maintain and repair industrial air conditioners). We can also add the implications of the employers' current strategy of cutting costs by exploiting cheap illegal foreign labor, unwittingly helping to destroy the social gains of native workers (a phenomenon that exists all over the world), causing workplace accidents and depression, increasing healthcare costs, etc.
Taken as a whole, the energy balance of this model is therefore mediocre compared to a model where the time left for versatility simply allows us to do a lot of things ourself, on site, with the materials available.
In terms of accessibility, it goes without saying that such a model multiplies the specific requirements, not only in terms of skills, but also in terms of materials, operating permits, administrative, legal and tax constraints, and so on. A loss of accessibility in the global sense, as well as an increase in the energy balance due to the phenomenal amount of entropy generated by all the cogs required to grow and sell carrots.
The reason why the hyperspecialization of skills leads to a loss of transparency is that the compartmentalization of fields of expertise tends to prevent any overview, and it's a well-known fact that many people do not understand the overall mechanics of their work.
On this point, I particularly like the film Cube, in which one of the protagonists explains that the monstrous cube project built itself, without any of the people involved knowing what they were working on, due to the specialization of their work.
The loss of predictability stems from the complexity of the interactions required to justify special work. Indeed, the more complex a system, the more fragile it is, since its weaknesses are multiple and sometimes unpredictable. The more complex and numerous our interactions, the more likely they are to be disrupted for one reason or another, so that we can no longer justify our role as a hyperspecialized actor.
The societal justification of a Linux systems administrator specialized in banking infrastructures based on the kobol programming language, for example, is far more complex and difficult than that of a traditional farmer. And while there are transient contexts where we observe a strong desirability for this specialty, they remain infinitely rarer than the desirability for a farmer. This means, in the final analysis, that the justification for such a specialization of skills is more fragile than that for more basic but more necessary skills such as farming.
The loss of simplicity is self-evident when we analyze the borderline quantum entanglements of hyperspecialized skills in the global marketplace.
Finally, the loss of contentment stems from several factors. First of all, it can be a loss of meaning, in the face of the complexity of the system in which we participate, and where we no longer really know to what end we are making efforts and learning skills. It is also about health problems, caused by the unnatural repetition of gestures in a mechanical and hyperspecific way.
I often use the example of basket-making, which is now part of the capitalist market and has always been an ancillary skill to other activities, particularly farming, where the cold season in temperate zones leaves time for other useful activities.
With the exception of a few very specific cases, often linked to aristocratic patronage, basket-making has never been a profession. Almost everyone knew how to make baskets in the countryside because everyone needed baskets, and it would never have occurred to anyone that a village really needed a basket maker to solve a basket shortage problem. Spending 8 hours a day pulling pieces of wicker and hazel into plaits is unnatural, and often leads to excruciating hand and back pain.
Back to natural human versatility
I personally believe that the most viable model is once again a happy medium.
Of course, we all have our specialties, whether by taste or talent, but we all aspire more or less to vary our activities. In French, there's a term: "métier". I've never been able to translate it correctly into English. It is the core skill that a person develops and which permeates their entire life. Even in retirement, a person retains his "métier". (It is close to the word "trade" but I don’t feel like it is the same since this word is quite bounded to commercial notions, and the word "métier" is far more than that.)
However, as is only natural, in addition to this core skill, we have additional skills, not always as perfectly developed as a professional in the field, but that doesn't matter: I don't need a perfect basket, I just need a basket!
To develop both a core skill and desirable complementary skills (sewing, furniture-making, vegetable-growing, cooking, hunting, fishing, etc.), we need both time and meaning in our life.
The former cannot easily be found in today's economic model, which only justifies our right to exist through machine profitability - claimed or proven, it doesn't matter, as long as the economic players believe in it - and therefore an almost permanent availability of body and mind.
The latter can only be found through strong, authentic relationships, and also through an inner sense of meaning that could be described as spiritual.
Indeed, and this is something that almost all guidance counsellors forget: we don't necessarily choose our path by ourselves alone, but also through our interaction with others, and in particular by responding to society's needs, not just our own. However, to want to meet society's needs, we need to have a certain tenderness and desire for it. And that's one of the reasons why I am so insistent on community questions, because modern narcissistic society melted into undifferentiated global commerce does not appeal to many people (hardly anyone, in fact), and the first step to enthusiastically developing skills is also to take pleasure in offering them to the world, and this can only work if we feel a real sense of belonging to a community that we want to see flourish and prosper. If we don't, only personal profit can drive us out of our home, and in this respect, it is true that hyperspecialized skills are often well paid, but then, what will we have left?
I will be now a little narcissistic here to give you an example of core skill going with ancillary useful skills: my main skill is design, taken in its broadest sense, but I am also knowledgeable in History and philosophy, I have good skills in computer and entrepreneurship, I have basic notions of gardening, gathering, fishing, pruning and grafting trees, electricity, welding, sewing, mechanics, how to build and repair a house and I'm currently thinking of learning the basics of pottery, basketry and blacksmithing. I know how to take care of farm animals, cats and dogs and I know plenty about nature in general partly thanks to my biology studies.
I am not a professional in all these fields, of course, but I don’t need to nor do I want to. I can fix most of the issues I face in my life thanks to this set of skills. This is precious, and I encourage everyone to think about it. Tomorrow, if terrible events happen and we face many sorts of shortages, people like me, living in a quite sane countryside, will be fine. Even during the world wars, countryside people not directly in the conflict areas were ok, in the end. It was not the best days of their lives, of course, but they manage to go through thick and thin, because of the synergy of their way of living and the versatility of their skills.
In the long run, this is also the most synergetic model I can think of and the most ecologically responsible and sustainable. Of course, we will develop unusual skills from time to time, and this is a good thing, it is part of what makes life funny and weird, but it will take place in the middle of quite known useful skills that can make the best out of local systems, not overcomplex and inhuman global ones.
Wow! Another brilliant piece Leo. I love reading your work, it feels like someone giving ideas and possible answers rather than just despair because the whole system is broken. You are ahead of the wave and I hope more people start reading your amazing work. I have always thought that I would do well in an Olympic event of say 1,000 events as I am a 'Jack of all trades' (Master of none). I have always been unhappy with that but in the last few years I have started to appreciate my own diversity more and more.