State of the Union: When doing less is more

Good morning, Wednesday. Been a hot minute...

So I'm trying to retool this blog. I'm quite simply bored with the layout and want to make it better. I haven't had a second to think or breathe until this week and I'm very much enjoying some solitude after months of back to back projects. Look for a new look soon, and I'm scaling back on posts because posting is reminder of how much work I have to do to make this whole thing great. If you have any ideas, you know where to find me.

And another thing I've been thinking about is something sort of trend focused in terms of how we work. I've been asking myself this and wondering if the rest of you multi/slash types are asking yourselves the same thing: Is it better to be an expert at one thing vs. being a generalist and jack/jill of all trades? 

I'm asking this because recently I had the pleasure of dining at Sushi Nakazawa, an incredible sushi experience with near epic difficulty in securing reservations because of their incredible sushi chef lured from Tokyo right here to NYC. The whole meal is sushi, and nothing else. Full stop. 

I found myself feeling weirded out by that- no soup? Nothing warm to break up all of the raw fish? I have no choice in what I'm eating? (The chef picks. That's it).

And the pleasure of eating such a decadent meal was not only because of its excellent fish, but because true decadence is eating a meal that is composed of a single concept done exceedingly well. If raw fish is your specialty, simply serve fish. I loved the one note luxury of this meal (whose complexity I may be underselling- it was all fish but a huge variety of flavors and types), and it got me thinking about life in general (as a good meal tends to do). I realized that my distrust of such a meal spoke volumes about my tastes- I've gotten so used to having so many options I've forgotten how amazing it is to focus on something so perfect on its own. 

I started thinking that maybe this culture of generalism we have all found ourselves in may not be such a great thing. As a lifelong ad chick, the last ten years or so have seen a rise in upper echelon ad execs touting the praises of hiring people that are more generalists than experts- maybe you are a producer AND a writer, or maybe you are a art director AND producer. This never works in agency life, ps. I feel that many say they want the multitalented, but in essence, advertising distills down to a sweet spot- I have never been hired to do anything but production at an agency, and I'm cool with that. I'm good at it, I know tons of people, and that's what I'm known for in agency life. And I think that's true of most positions in adland- writers are writers, strategists are strategists, and account services peeps are account services peeps. Maybe in advertising being a generalist is desired, but it's rarely embraced. 

As a freelancer, I assess my value as someone who could often do more than one thing- I love to write, I love to produce, I love to work in the trend space and come up with what's next. But am I diluting my personal brand by being this master of none? I suppose if you're amazing at everything (not saying I am of course) and stay true to your point of view, then you are the rare breed. But for most of us, this whole generalist thing can cause some muddling. I'm not talking about people that spend a lifetime in marketing and then become bloggers. That's a logical extension. But I'm talking about a multi offering. I'm suffering from a hardcore case of expert envy, and here's why. 

I look at people like Sam Smith with that gorgeous voice or some sushi chef deity or an athlete that was born to dunk.  Those people are the lucky ones. They know they were born to do something- and in our era of "finding me", it's become apparent that all of us have the very difficult task of "finding our passion" as well. Some of us never will, and others of us are so blood thirsty for passion and purpose, we forget who we are completely. How lovely it must be to know you are here because of some supreme talent. Malcolm Gladweel famously noted that it takes 10,000 hours to be an expert at anything, and perhaps the tunnel/single vision lens needed to be an expert is something we should focus on more- I'm not sure it's true and that generalism is dead, but I love the idea of doing one thing, and doing it beautifully. It's a great gift to be able to focus on one thing, and really know who you are amidst a sea of slashes and mixed offerings.

With so many options, I feel brands are feeling this pinch as well- there's nothing wrong with doing one thing with exquisite focus. In fact, when you think of most big brands, you'll most likely think of the one thing they are known for. Take Nike. They make scads of things but really, they are known for sneakers. Or Levi's, who also makes tons of stuff, but they are famously known for jeans. Of course there are exceptions- I think of celebrities like Jessica Alba or Gwyneth Paltrow who were successful actresses that became lifestyle brands- but it was the movie star cred that got them in the door in the first place. And for actresses like Alba, whose acting jobs were a bit suspect to begin with, following her passion and starting an organic baby product company is a logical extension of her brand.

I'm not sure I'm making a point here, but lately I feel pulled in a million different directions, with the age old question of "what do you want to be when you grow up?" swirling about in my brain. With everyone trying to be everything to everybody, I'm starting to feel we are exhausting our talents.  I think there's something to trying many things, but I can't help but notice that being great at one thing has real equity. For many of us, that may not be an option, but perhaps we should stop trying to be so many things and go back to the power of one?  Anyway, that's my thought. Feel free to rebut. Is doing less so much more?

And that's what's up this single focus Wednesday in the 718. Yours, in expert opinions.   XO