Whither the generalist?

Last week, this post by Alex Thurston over at Sahel Blog made the rounds on the Twitter-sphere. The post was tweeted approvingly by a number of folks, and I agree with a lot of what is said. He certainly raises important questions about expertise that bloggers should ask, many of which I frequently ask myself as I offer commentary on issues here at RPB. And his comments on the difficulty of separating wheat from chaff, and the dubious signaling power of association with institutions are spot on.

I do take issue with one line in the post, and the pervasiveness of the opinion behind it. Alex writes

But many foreign affairs “experts” (old and new) claim expertise without possessing what I see as the key requirements for foreign affairs expertise, especially knowledge of local languages and local history.

This is a statement I've seen in many places in various guises, from Josh Foust to Abu Muqawama, often used while the poster is dismissing the opinion/perspective/insight of whomever they disagree with.

Is this really the important distinction for foreign affairs "experts," the two boxes that always must be checked for commentary to be valid and useful? By this logic, the fact that I lived for a couple years in Scotland, can understand a Glaswegian, and know the outline of the Auld Alliance, the Scottish Enlightenment, and the Treaty of Union, I've fulfilled the key requirements to offer expert comment on the Scottish National Party's 5 May electoral victory. It doesn't. Yet the fact that I read work by a lot of smart folks whose passions and careers revolve around reporting on Scottish politics is enough to give me some basic context for discussing the issue, perhaps not from a position of authority but certainly from a potentially useful vantage point. (I'm not planning a post on the election, other than to congratulate my friend Humza Yousaf, one of the youngest MSPs ever elected!)

In the same way, many intelligent people write valuable, persuasive contributions to discussions on regions and issues about which they lack the key elements of expertise (by Alex's definition above). These are the generalists, with a breadth of knowledge and interest, but lacking depth in the majority of the issues on which they engage. We've all read spectacular posts (and even articles and books) on Pakistan by authors who don't speak a lick of Urdu or Pashto. Several respected authorities on terrorism or Al Qaeda can't read Arabic. Yet I don't think we would suggest that their contributions should be discarded. Expertise in local language and local history should definitely inform discussion of issues, but its inclusion shouldn't drive the exclusion of informed, thoughtful commentary from those not possessing "expertise."

For isn't that why we are all here in the first place, to both gather others' and share our knowledge and perspective (in addition to the rather ornery folks that revel in argumentation)? Some may be more valuable than others on particular issues, but there is merit in a myriad of people, armed with some minimum measure of fact, offering different viewpoints and opinions. And if the Twitter-sphere and blogosphere is good for anything, it is letting you know when you are misinformed, but I'll be damned if there isn't value in being wrong as well.

Let's keep a spot at the table for the generalist. We'll all be better off for it.