What now?

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Times are rock hard in industry right now.

If you have a job, you're lucky — you have probably already survived one round of layoffs. There will likely be more, especially when the takeovers start, which they will. I hope you survive those too. 

If you don't have a job, you probably feel horrible, but of course that won't get you anywhere. I heard one person call it an 'involuntary sabbatical', and I love that: it's the best chance you'll get to re-invent, re-learn, and find new direction. 

If you're a student, you must be looking out over the wasteland and wondering what's in store for you. What on earth?

More than one person has asked me recently about Agile. "You got out," they say, "how did you do it?" So instead of bashing out another email, I thought I'd blog about it.

Consulting in 2015

I didn't really get out, of course, I just quit and moved to rural Nova Scotia.

Living out here does make it harder to make a living, and things on this side of the fence, so to speak, are pretty gross too I'm afraid. Talking to others at SEG suggested that I'm not alone among small companies in this view. A few of the larger outfits seem to be doing well: IKON and GeoTeric for instance, but they also have product, which at least offers some income diversity. 

Agile started as a 100% bootstrapped effort to be a consulting firm that's more directly useful to individual professional geoscientists than anyone else. Most firms target corporate accounts and require permission, a complicated contract, an AFE, and 3 months of bureaucracy to hire. It turns out that professionals are unable or unwilling to engage on that lower, grass-roots level, though — turns out almost everyone thinks you actually need permission, contracts, AFEs, etc, to get hired in any capacity, even just "Help me tie this well." So usually we are hired into larger, longer-term projects, just like anyone else.

I still think there's something in this original idea — the Uberification of consulting services, if you will — maybe we'll try again in a few years.

But if you are out of work and were thinking of getting out there as a consultant... I'm an optimistic person, but unless you are very well known (for being awesome), it's hard for me to honestly recommend even trying. It's just not the reality right now. We've been lucky so far, because we work in geothermal and government as well as in petroleum, but oil & gas was over half our revenue last year. It will be about 0% of it this year, maybe slightly less.

The transformation of Agile

All of which is to explain why we are now, since January, consciously and deliberately turning ourselves into a software technology R&D company. The idea is to be less dependent on our dysfunctional industry, and less dependent on geotechnical work. We build new tools for hard problems — data problems, interpretation problems, knowledge sharing problems. And we're really good at it.

We hired another brilliant programmer in August, and we're all learning more every day about our playground of scientific computing and the web — machine learning, cloud services, JavaScript frameworks, etc. The first thing we built was modelr.io, which is still in active development. Our latest project is around our tool pickthis.io. I hope it works out because it's the most fun I've had on a project in ages. Maybe these projects spin out of Agile, maybe we keep them in-house.

So that's our survival plan: invent, diversify, and re-tool like crazy. And keep blogging.

F**k it

Some people are saying, "things will recover, sit it out" but I think that's awful — the very worst — advice. I honestly think your best bet right now* is to find an accomplice, set aside 6 months and some of your savings, push everything off your desk, and do something totally audacious. 

Something you can't believe no-one has thought of doing yet.

Whatever it was you just thought of — that's the thing.

You might as well get started.

* Unless you have just retired, are very well connected in industry, have some free time, and want to start a new, non-commercial project that will profoundly benefit the subsurface community for the next several decades at least. Because I'd like to talk to you about another audacious plan...

On answering questions

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On Tuesday I wrote about asking better questions. One of the easiest ways to ask better questions is to hang back a little. In a lecture, the answer to your question may be imminent. Even if it isn't, some thinking or research will help. It's the same with answering questions. Better to think about the question, and maybe ask clarifying questions, than to jump right in with "Let me explain".

Here's a slightly edited example from Earth Science Stack Exchange: 

I suppose natural gas underground caverns on Earth have substantial volume and gas is in gaseous form there. I wonder how it would look like inside such cavern (with artificial light of course). Will one see a rocky sky at big distance?

The first answer was rather terse:

What is a good answer?

This answer, addressing the apparent misunderstanding the OP (original poster) has about gas being predominantly found in caverns, was the first thing that occurred to me too. But it's incomplete, and has other problems:

  • It's not very patient, and comes across as rather dismissive. Not very welcoming for this new user.
  • The reference is far from being an appropriate one, and seems to have been chosen randomly.
  • It only addresses sandstone reservoirs, and even then only 'typical' ones.

In my own answer to the question, I tried to give a more complete answer. I tried to write down my principles, which are somewhat aligned with the advice given on the Stack Exchange site:

  1. Assume the OP is smart and interested. They were smart and curious enough to track down a forum and ask a question that you're interested enough in to answer, so give them some credit. 
  2. No bluffing! If you find yourself typing something like, "I don't know a lot about this, but..." then stop writing immediately. Instead, send the question to someone you know that can give a better answer then you.
  3. If possible, answer directly and clearly in the first sentence. I usually write it in bold. This should be the closest you can get to a one-word answer, especially if it was a direct question. 
  4. Illustrate the answer with an example. A picture or a numerical example — if possible with working code in an accessible, open source language — go a long way to helping someone get further. 
  5. Be brief but thorough. Round out your answer with some different angles on the question, especially if there's nuance in your answer. There's no need for an essay, so instead give links and references if the OP wants to know more.
  6. Make connections. If there are people in your community or organization who should be connected, connect them.

It's remarkable how much effort people are willing to put into a great answer. A question about detecting dog paw-prints on a pressure pad, posted to the programming community Stack Overflow, elicited some great answers.

The thread didn't end there. Check out these two answers by Joe Kington, a programmer–geoscientist in Houston:

  • One epic answer with code and animated GIFs, showing how to make a time-series of pawprints.
  • A second answer, with more code, introducing the concept of eigenpaws to improve paw recognition.

A final tip: writing informative answers might be best done on Wikipedia or your corporate wiki. Instead of writing a long response to the post, think about writing it somewhere more accessible, and instead posting a link to your answer. 

What do you think makes a good answer to a question? Have you ever received an answer that went beyond helpful? 

On asking questions

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If I had only one hour to solve a problem, I would spend up to two-thirds of that hour in attempting to define what the problem is. — Anonymous Yale professor (often wrongly attributed to Einstein)

Asking questions is a core skill for professionals. Asking questions to know, to understand, to probe, to test. Anyone can feel exposed asking questions, because they feel like they should know or understand already. If novices and 'experts' alike have trouble asking questions, if your community or organization does not foster a culture of asking, then there's a problem.

What is a good question?

There are naive questions, tedious questions, ill-phrased questions, questions put after inadequate self-criticism. But every question is a cry to understand the world. There is no such thing as a dumb question. — Carl Sagan

Asking good questions is the best way to avoid the problem of feeling silly or — worse — being thought silly. Here are some tips from my experience in Q&A forums at work and on the Internet:

  1. Do some research. Go beyond a quick Google search — try Google Scholar, ask one or two colleagues for help, look in the index of a couple of books. If you have time, stew on it for a day or two. Do enough to make sure the answer isn't widely known or trivial to find. Once you've decided to ask a network...
  2. Ask your question in the right forum. You will save yourself a lot of time by going taking the trouble to find the right place — the place where the people most likely to be able to help you are. Avoid the shotgun approach: it's not considered good form to cross-post in multiple related forums.
  3. Make the subject or headline a direct question, with some relevant detail. This is how most people will see your question and decide whether to even read the rest of it. So "Help please" or "Interpretation question" are hopeless. Much better is something like "How do I choose seismic attribute parameters?" or "What does 'replacement velocity' mean?".
  4. Provide some detail, and ideally an image. A bit of background helps. If you have a software or programming problem, just enough information needed to reproduce the problem is critical. Tell people what you've read and where your assumptions are coming from. Tell people what you think is going on.
  5. Manage the question. Make sure early comments or answers seem to get your drift. Edit your question or respond to comments to help people help you. Follow up with new questions if you need clarification, but make a whole new thread if you're moving into new territory. When you have your answer, thank those who helped you and make it clear if and how your problem was solved. If you solved your own problem, post your own answer. Let the community know what happened in the end.

If you really want to cultivate your skills of inquiry, here is some more writing on the subject...

Supply and demand

Knowledge sharing networks like Stack Exchange, or whatever you use at work, often focus too much on answers. Capturing lessons learned, for example. But you can't just push knowledge at people — the supply and demand equation has two sides — there has to be a pull too. The pull comes from questions, and an organization or community that pulls, learns.

Do you ask questions on knowledge networks? Do you have any advice for the curious? 

Don't miss the next post, On answering questions.

How do I become a quantitative interpreter?

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TLDR: start doing quantitative interpretation.

I just saw this question on reddit/r/geophysics —

I always feel a bit sad when I read this sort of question, which is even more common on LinkedIn, because it reminds me that we (in the energy industry at least) have built recruiting patterns and HR practices that make it look as if professionals have career tracks or have to build CVs to impress people or get permission to train in a new area. This is all wrong.

Or, to be more precise, we can treat this as all wrong and have a lot more fun in the process.

If you are a 'geologist' or 'geophysicist', then you are in control of your own career and what you apply yourself to. No-one is telling you what to do, they are only telling you what they need. How you do it, the methods you apply, the products you build — all this is completely up to you. This is almost the whole point of being a professional.

The replies to Timbledon's question include this one:

I disagree with Schwa88. Poor Timbledon doesn't need another degree. Rock physics is not a market, and not new. There are no linear tracks. And there is no clear or useful distinction between rock physics and quantitative interpretation (or petrophysics, or seismic geophysics) — I bet there are no two self-identifying quantitative interpreters with identical, or even similar, job or educational histories.

As for 'now is not the time'... I can't even... 'Now' is the only time you can do anything about, so work with it.

OK, enough ranting, what should Timbledon do?

It's easy! The best way to pursue quantitative interpretation, or pretty much anything except pediatric cardiology, is to just start doing it. It really is that simple. My advice is to use quantitative methods in every project you touch, and in doing so you will immediately outperform most interpreters. Talk to anyone and everyone about your interest and share your insights. Volunteer for projects. Go to talks. Give talks. To help you find your passion, take the time to learn about some big things:

  • Rock physics, e.g. the difference between static and dynamic elasticity.
  • Seismic processing, e.g. what surface consistent deconvolution and trim statics are.
  • Seismic interpretation, e.g. seismic geomorphology and seismic stratigraphy.
  • Seismic analysis, e.g. the difference between Zoeppritz, Fatti, and Shuey.
  • Statistics, e.g. when you need multilinear regression, or K-means clustering.

Those are just examples. If you're more into X-ray diffraction in clays, or the physics of crystalline rocks, or fluid properties, or wellbore seismic, or time-lapse effects, or whatever — learn about those things instead.

Whatever you do, Timbledon, don't listen to anybody ;)

Are we alright?

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GeoConvention_2014_logo.png

This year's Canada GeoConvention tried a few new things. There was the Openness Unsession, Jen Russel Houston's Best of 2013 PechaKutcha session, and the On Belay careers session. Attendance at the unsession was a bit thin; the others were well attended. Hats off to the organizers for getting out of a rut.

I went to the afternoon of the On Belay session. It featured several applied geoscientists with less than 5 years of experience in the industry. I gather the conference asked them for a candid 'insider' view, with career tips for people like them. I heard 2 talks, and the experience left me literally shaking, prompting Ben Cowie to ask me if I was alright.

I was alright, but I'm not sure about us. Our community — or this industry — has a problem.

Don't be yourself

Marc Enter gave a talk entitled Breaking into Calgary's oil and gas industry, an Aussie's perspective.

Marc narrated the arc of his career: well site geology in a trailer in the outback, re-location to Calgary, being laid-off, stumbling into consultancy (what a person does when they can't find a real job), and so on. On this journey, Marc racked up hundreds of hours of interview experience searching for work in Calgary. Here are some of his learnings, paraphrased but I think they are accurate:

  • Being yourself is impossible in a unfamiliar place. So don't be yourself.
  • Interview experience is crucial to being comfortable, so apply for jobs you have no interest in, just for the experience.
  • If the job description doesn’t sound exactly right to you, apply anyway. It's experience.
  • Confidence is everything. HR people are sniffer dogs for confidence. If you don't have it, invent it.
  • On confidence: it is easier to find a job when you have a job.

What on earth are we teaching these young professionals about working in this industry? This is awful.

How to survive the workday 

Jesse Shoengut gave a talk entitled One man’s tips and tricks for surviving your early professional career. 

Surviving. That's the word he chose. Might as well have been enduring. Tolerating. TGIF mindset. Like Marc, Jesse spoke about a haphazard transition from university into the working world. If you can't find a job after you finish your undergrad, you can always have a go at grad school. That's one way to get work experience, if all else fails.

Fine, finding work can be hard, and not all jobs are awesome. But with statements like, "Here are some things that keep me sane at work, and help get me through the day," I started to react a bit. C'mon, is that really what people in the audience deserve to hear? Is that really what work is like? It's depressing.

A broken promise

Listening to these talks, I felt embarrassed for our profession. They felt like a candid celebration of mediocrity, where confidence compensates for complacency. I don't blame these young professionals — students have been groomed, through summer internships and hyper-conventional careers events, to get their resumes in order, fit in, and follow instructions. We in industry have built this trap we're mired in. And we are continually seduced. Seduced by the bait of more-then-decent pay and plenty of other rewards. 

I talked to one fellow afterwards. He said, "Yeah, well, a lot of people are finding it hard to find a job right now." If these cynical, jaded young professionals are representative, I'm not surprised.

Were you at this session? Did you see other talks, or walk away with a different impression? I'd love to hear your viewpoints... am I being unfair? Leave a comment.

Try an outernship

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In my experience, consortiums under-deliver. We can get the best of both worlds by making the industry–academia interface more permeable.

At one of my clients, I have the pleasure of working with two smart, energetic young geologists. One recently finished, and the other recently started, a 14-month super-internship. Neither one had more than a BSc in geology when they started, and both are going on to do a postgraduate degree after they finish with this multinational petroleum company.

This is 100% brilliant — for them and for the company. After this gap-year-on-steroids, what they accomplish in their postgraduate studies will be that much more relevant, to them, to industry, and to the science. And corporate life, the good bits anyway, can teach smart and energetic people about time management, communication, and collaboration. So by holding back for a year, I think they've actually got a head-start.

The academia–industry interface

Chatting to these young professionals, it struck me that there's a bigger picture. Industry could get much better at interfacing with academia. Today, it tends to happen at a few key relationships, in recruitment, and in a few long-lasting joint industry projects (often referred to as JIPs or consortiums). Most of these interactions happen on an annual timescale, and strictly via presentations and research reports. In a distributed company, most of the relationships are through R&D or corporate headquarters, so the benefits to the other 75% or more of the company are quite limited.

Less secrecy, free the data! This worksheet is from the Unsolved Problems Unsession in 2013.Instead, I think the interface should be more permeable and dynamic. I've sat through several JIP meetings as researchers have shown work of dubious relevance, using poor or incomplete data, with little understanding of the implications or practical possibilities of their insights. This isn't their fault — the petroleum industry sucks at sharing its goals, methods, uncertainties, and data (a great unsolved problem!).

Increasing permeability

Here's my solution: ordinary human collaboration. Send researchers to intern alongside industry scientists for a month or two. Let them experience the incredible data and the difficult problems first hand. But don't stop there. Send the industry scientists to outern (yes, that is probably a word) alongside the academics, even if only for a week or two. Let them experience the freedom of sitting in a laboratory playground all day, working on problems with brilliant researchers. Let's help  people help each other with real side-by-side collaboration, building trust and understanding in the process. A boring JIP meeting once a year is not knowledge sharing.

Have you seen good examples of industry, government, or academia striving for more permeability? How do the high-functioning JIPs do it? Let us know in the comments.

If you liked this, check out some of my other posts on collaboration and knowledge sharing...

Back to work

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This post first appeared as a chapter in 52 Things You Should Know About Geophysics (Agile Libre, 2012 — also at Amazon). To follow up on Back to school on Tuesday, I thought I'd share it here on the blog. It's aimed at young professionals, but to be honest, I could do with re-reading it myself now and again...

Five things I wish I'd known

For years I struggled under some misconceptions about scientific careers and professionalism. Maybe I’m not particularly enlightened, and haven't really woken up to them yet, and it's all obvious to everyone else, but just in case I am, I have, and it's not, here are five things I wish I'd known at the start of my career.

Always go the extra inch. You don't need to go the extra mile — there often isn't time and there's a risk that no one will notice anyway. An inch is almost always enough. When you do something, like work for someone or give a presentation, people only really remember two things: the best thing you did, and the last thing you did. So make sure those are awesome. It helps to do something unexpected, or something no one has seen before. It is not as hard as you'd think — read a little around the edges of your subject and you'll find something. Which brings me to...

Read, listen, and learn. Subscribe to some periodicals, preferably ones you will actually enjoy reading. You can see my favourites in J is for Journal. Go to talks and conferences, as often as you reasonably can. But, and this is critical, don't just go — take part. Write notes, ask questions, talk to presenters, discuss with others afterwards. And learn: do take courses, but choose them wisely. In my experience, most courses are not memorable or especially effective. So ask for recommendations from your colleagues, and make sure there is plenty of hands-on interaction in the course, preferably on computers or in the field. Good: Dan Hampson talking you through AVO analysis on real data. Bad: sitting in a classroom watching someone derive equations.

Write, talk, and teach. The complement to read, listen, and learn. It's never too early in your career to start — don't fall into the trap of thinking no one will be interested in what you do, or that you have nothing to share. Even new graduates have something in their experience that nobody else has. Technical conference organizers are desperate for stories from the trenches, to dilute the blue-sky research and pseudo-marketing that most conferences are saturated with. Volunteer to help with courses. Organize workshops and lunch-and-learns. Write articles for Recorder, First Break, or The Leading Edge. Be part of your science! You'll grow from the experience, and it will help you to...

Network, inside and outside your organization. Networking is almost a dirty word to some people, but it doesn’t mean taking people to hockey games or connecting with them on LinkedIn. By far the best way to network is to help people. Help people often, for free, and for fun, and it will make you memorable and get you connected. And it's easy: at least 50 percent of the time, the person just needs a sounding board and they quickly solve their own problem. The rest of the time, chances are good that you can help, or know someone who can. Thanks to the Matthew Effect, whereby the rich get richer, your network can grow exponentially this way. And one thing is certain in this business: one day you will need your network.

Learn to program. You don't need to turn yourself into a programmer, but my greatest regret of my first five years out of university is that I didn't learn to read, re-use, and write code. Read Learn to program to find out why, and how.

Do you have any advice for new geoscientists starting out in their careers? What do you wish you'd known on Day 1?

Back to school

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My children go back to school this week. One daughter is going into Grade 4, another is starting kindergarten, and my son is starting pre-school at the local Steiner school. Exciting times.

I go all misty-eyed at this time of year. I absolutely loved school. Mostly the learning part. I realize now there are lots of things I was never taught (anything to do with computers, anything to do with innovation or entrepreneurship, anything to do with blogging), but what we did cover, I loved. I'm not even sure it's learning I like so much — my retention of facts and even concepts is actually quite bad — it's the process of studying.

Lifelong learning

Naturally, the idea of studying now, as a grown-up and professional, appeals to me. But I stopped tracking courses I've taken years ago, and actually now have stopped doing them, because most of them are not very good. I've found many successful (that is, long running) industry courses to be disappointingly bad — long-running course often seems to mean getting a tired instructor and dated materials for your $500 per day. (Sure, you said the course was good when you sis the assessment, but what did you think a week later? A month, a year later? If you even remember it.) I imagine it's all part of the 'grumpy old man' phase I seem to have reached when I hit 40.

But I am grumpy no longer! Because awesome courses are back...

So many courses

Last year Evan and I took three high quality, and completely free, massive online open courses, or MOOCs:

There aren't a lot of courses out there for earth scientists yet. If you're looking for something specific, RedHoop is a good way to scan everything at once.

The future

These are the gold rush days, the exciting claim-staking pioneer days, of massive online open courses. Some trends:

There are new and profound opportunities here for everyone from high school students to postgraduates, and from young professionals to new retirees. Whether you're into teaching, or learning, or both, I recommend trying a MOOC or two, and asking yourself what the future of education and training looks like in your world.

The questions is, what will you try first? Is there a dream course you're looking for?

Your next employment contract

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You own your brain. The hackathon we're hosting has reminded me of this. 

More than one person has expressed difficulty with reconciling their wish to participate in the event with their employment contract, which probably says something like this:

Everything you do belongs to us.

Your family photos belong to you

Yesterday I read something about US government intellectual property. I knew that most government content is free of copyright, and what I read confirmed it. It's a sort of mirror image of the situation we have in industry (this is from ACQuipedia): 

Works created by Federal employees in the course of their official duties are automatically in the public domain and may not be copyrighted by anyone.

Interestingly, works not created in the course of their duties are their copyright as normal. So a soldier's photographs on her cellphone are her intellectual property, even if they were taken on duty (provided she's not a photographer).

Our community should stand up for something resembling this same rule in the corporate environment. Of course works created in the course of your duties as an employed geoscientist or engineer belong to your employer. But clearly your family vacation photographs do not. And just as clearly, your edits to Wikipedia articles do not (unless that's your job, you lucky thing). And neither, with certain provisos, do your contributions to a hackathon.

What provisos? Well, there are other, equally important clauses about confidentiality in your contract. You may not legally disclose the company's proprietary intellectual property. So you can't show up at a hackathon and code up your company's latest migration algorithm. But coding up a new, previously unknown algorithm would be ethically OK, but if you're a geophysical programmer I can see the potential conflict there — it's a judgment call. I hope your company trusts you to make a fair decision. If the algorithm turns out to be awesome, and had 3 collaborators from different companies, then I say they should all be glad you got together to invent it. Innovation is not a zero-sum game.

Shop rights

It turns out that there's a common law provision for the ownership of your brain. So-called shop rights are generally upheld by courts, at least in the US. According to an excellent guide to IP from the IEEE, they go like this (there are variants):

  1. confidential information and inventions or other creations made during the course of employment as a normal part of job duties belong to the employer
  2. inventions made by the employee off the job, using the employee's own time and materials, will generally belong to the employee (absent fraud, related inplant work of which the employee might be aware, or other special circumstances); and
  3. inventions not related to work duties, but created with some nontrivial use of the employer's time, funds or materials still belong to the employee, but the employer has limited rights to exploit the invention without payment of royalties or other compensation.

Awesome! This is perfectly sensible. Unfortunately, employers can write almost anything they like in their contracts, and it sounds to me like clauses that trample on these rights are fairly common. And they will continue to be common until people start refusing to sign contracts that contain them.

Demand change

In light of all this, here are 3 things to demand (yes, demand — you do actually have some bargaining power when someone tries to hire you) in your next employment contract:

  • At the very least, clauses limiting your shop rights should be removed. In their absence, conflicts will be resolved by the application of common law.
  • You may contribute to Wikipedia, SEG Wiki, PetroWiki, SubSurfWiki, and other open content projects.
  • You may contribute to OpendTect, Madagascar, and other open source software projects.
  • You may contribute to unstructured events, including but not limited to unconferences, hackathons, and idea jams. 

Bottom line: your employer owns some of your creations, specifically the ones you make for them, at work, with their data, their tools, their employees, and their ideas. But you own the rest, and you emphatically own your creativity.

Changing how we are employed is entirely up to us. Legal professionals will pin us down to the bare minimum of openness and freedom otherwise — it's their job. So push back, ask for change, and retain your brain.

Expert culture is bad for you

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Expert culture is bad for you. Not experts themselves, though I prefer not to use the word at all, but a culture that elevates them unduly. I don't like the word because it is usually used to mean something like master, chief, authority, or worst of all, judge. 

What's wrong with expert culture? Lots:

  • It disenfranchises everyone else. Non-experts think there are some opinions they are not entitled to. In a highly creative, subjective discipline like ours, this is A Bad Thing.
  • This forces them to wait around till the expert can tell them what to do. Which slows everything down. If they have to wait too long, or can't get the expert's attention, or the expert can't or won't get involved, the opportunity, whatever it was, may disappear. 
  • Meanwhile, experts are burdened with impossibly high expectations — of always being right or at least deeply insightful. This makes them cautious. So if they're uncertain or uncomfortable, they hang back because there's no upside to being wrong in the expert culture.
  • Expert culture encourages knowledge hoarding, because it explicitly connects personal knowledge with glory, and downplays what the rest of the organization knows. The ignorance of the masses highlights the expert's prestige.
  • Experts, frustrated with having to tell people what to do all the time, write best practice documents and other edicts, which try to make tricky workflows idiot-proof. But idiot-proof means idiot-friendly — who did you hire?

How to fix it

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Better is a culture of expertise. The basic premise is that expertise is everywhere in your organization. You do not, and can not, know where it is. Indeed, its whereabouts will often surprise you. Turns out you hired awesome people after all — and they know stuff. Yay!

In the culture of expertise, what are these people we often call experts? They are still highly experienced people, with unusually broad or deep careers, with profound intelligence or intuition. But now they are free to apply their insight and judgment in more creative and more daring ways — even to things they aren't considered experts in. And their role in this new culture shifts slightly: it becomes the seeking, assessing, parsing, synthesizing, and spreading of expertise in the organization — wherever it is. They become curators, mentors, and champions of excellence. And they will revel in it.

The best experts do this already. How many do you know? Will you step up?