What does it take to become an expert?

I’m a member of Litopia, a self-proclaimed “Writer’s Colony” on-line. It’s actually a great place to go and hang out with other writers and learn the trade.

Recently, a discussion thread came up about what it takes to become an expert. It was linked to this post.

Importantly, it made the point that the transition from novice to expert was marked by preferentially focusing on negative feedback over positive feedback.

Here was my reaction:

Expertise is a funny thing. For me, in my field (which is isotopic analysis of tooth enamel from fossil mammals), becoming an ‘expert’ isn’t something that I sought to do. I just wanted to do the best I could because my own research depends upon this kind of analysis. I don’t feel like an expert – I know that there’s tons of room for improvement. (But maybe this goes to the point about how experts focus on the negative more than the positive.)

But one day, about a year ago, it happened. I got the first e-mail I’d ever gotten that said something to the effect of “We have these enamel samples that need analysis, and we’ve heard you’re the best.” After I scraped my jaw off the floor, I told them that I could analyze their samples and there you go… Since then I’ve gotten similar e-mails from people all over the world and from students who want to study with me.

I guess I’m an expert.

What makes me an expert? Getting out there and getting noticed is important. So, not all experts are introverts. I mean, I guess I could be an expert and introverted, but who would know? What would it get me? Naw, I get out there, go to meetings, use Twitter and blogs, and talk about what I do. Other people notice and they decide I’m an expert.

Maybe being an expert isn’t something that you decide. Maybe it depends upon the perceptions of other people. And if enough other people – especially those that you yourself would call experts – are calling you an expert, maybe it’s true.

I’m all right with that.