The Expert's Curse: When Expertise Becomes Your Blind Spot
Why Being a Beginner Might Be Your Secret Superpower
"What skills have you learned this year?"
I froze. The question came from my coaching client - someone who had paid me to help them grow their career. We'd been discussing their development plan when they flipped the script on me.
I'm supposed to be the expert here. I spent eighteen years at Amazon, rising from Support Enginner to Principal Engineer. I've coached hundreds of tech professionals. I've built a following teaching others how to advance their careers.
And yet.
My answer was embarrassing: I hadn't learned any substantial new tech skills this year. Sure, I'd gotten better at things I was already good at. I'd refined my technical knowledge. I'd improved my ability to teach others.
But actual new skills? The kind of uncomfortable learning that makes your brain hurt? Zero.
The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, an "expert" who had built a business around helping others grow, while I had stopped growing myself. Even worse, I had been blind to this stagnation until my client's innocent question forced me to confront it.
This is the expert's curse. The more expertise you acquire, the harder it becomes to see your own blind spots. But there's a deeper irony at play: while experts like me spend countless hours trying to recapture a "beginner's mindset," actual beginners already possess this precious asset naturally.
That fresh perspective you think is a weakness? It might be your greatest strength.
Don't get me wrong - I haven't been completely stagnant. The transition from tech to tech content creator has forced me to learn an entirely new skillset. Marketing, community building, video production, copywriting, hiring non-technical talent - these are all muscles I've had to develop from scratch. Running a business turns out to be vastly different from running engineering teams.
But here's what bothers me: I've completely stepped away from learning new technical skills. The very expertise that got me here has become a comfortable crutch. I can teach others about system design, coding practices, and career growth all day long. But when was the last time I pushed myself to learn a new programming language? A new framework? A new way of thinking about technical problems?
This realization hit particularly hard because I used to warn others about this exact trap. "Don't assume your past experience always maps to present problems," I'd tell them. "Just because something looks familiar doesn't mean it is." Yet there I was, viewing every challenge through the lens of my accumulated expertise.
The thing about blind spots is that they're invisible by definition. You can't see what you can't see. But beginners? They see everything with fresh eyes. They ask the "obvious" questions that experts have long since stopped asking. They spot the peculiarities that experienced folks have learned to take for granted.
I remember when a junior engineer on my team at Amazon questioned why we handled a particular edge case in such a convoluted way. Their question led to a simplification that had eluded the senior engineers for years. We were so steeped in the historical context and accumulated decisions that we couldn't see the obvious anymore.
This is why diverse teams perform better. It's not just about different backgrounds or perspectives - it's about mixing people who are too experienced to see the forest for the trees with those who are seeing the forest for the first time.
So what do we do with this understanding? Both as experts trying to avoid the curse and as beginners learning to leverage their fresh perspective?
For the Experts: The first step is admitting you have a problem. That's why my client's question hit me so hard. It's why I'm dedicating my Wednesdays in 2025 to learning manim, a Python animation library from my favorite YouTube educator 3Blue1Brown. Not because it will directly help my content creation - I have simpler tools for that. But because I miss the discomfort of wrestling with new technical concepts. I miss the humility of being bad at something technical.
But it's not enough to just learn random new things. You need to:
Deliberately seek out perspectives that challenge your expertise. When someone questions your "obvious" solution, resist the urge to defend it. Instead, ask them to help you see what they're seeing. Asking questions is the best way to facilitate two-way understanding.
Regularly audit your growth. Not just "How am I getting better at what I already do?" but "What entirely new skills am I developing?" Make it a monthly calendar reminder if you have to. Don’t be the guitar player that plays the same three songs.
Force yourself to operate outside your comfort zone. If you're a technical leader, try managing non-technical projects. If you're an individual contributor, mentor someone in a different domain entirely. When it comes to learning, if you’re uncomfortable you’re doing it right.
For the Beginners: Your fresh perspective is an asset, not a liability. But you need to:
Document your observations early. The longer you're in a role or domain, the more you'll start to accept things as "just the way they are." Your initial reactions and questions are valuable - write them down. Don’t assume things are the way they are for a good reason.
Ask the "obvious" questions. That thing that doesn't make sense to you? Ask about it. Best case, you'll help identify an improvement opportunity. Worst case, you'll learn the context you're missing. As the new guy you get a pass for far longer than you think you do. Don’t be in a rush to turn that card in.
Share your perspective confidently. You don't need years of experience to have valid insights. Sometimes, not having that experience is precisely what allows you to see solutions that others miss. You can be confident that your perspective is from a beginner, and that you won’t be judged for simply sharing what you see.
The real magic happens when experts and beginners collaborate with mutual respect. The experts bring their deep understanding of what has worked (and why), while the beginners bring their ability to question assumptions and see new possibilities.
So here I am, an "expert" planning to be a beginner again. In 2025, my Wednesdays will be dedicated to stumbling through manim tutorials, probably writing terrible code, and definitely feeling that familiar frustration of not knowing what I'm doing. And I can't wait.
Because expertise isn't meant to be a final destination. It's meant to be a cycle: learn, master, teach, and then start over in something new. The moment you stop this cycle - the moment you settle into being "just" an expert - is the moment your expertise begins to limit rather than empower you.
So whether you're just starting out or you've been in your field for decades, remember this: Your blind spots are, by definition, invisible to you. But they're often glaringly obvious to others - especially to those fresh eyes you might be tempted to dismiss.
The real question isn't "What skills have you learned this year?"
It's "What skills will you learn next?"
Let me know in the comments about a time when a beginner's perspective helped you see something you were blind to. Or share what new skill you're planning to learn - especially if it's completely outside your current expertise.
I've gotten a "beginner's perspective" actually from another senior engineer which had been more curious about new technologies and their evolution than me.
In my example, I've dismissed for many years the utility css / tailwind paradigm just because I had a suboptimal experience when this stack was in its infancy. Receiving this pointer and looking again showed me just how much it evolved and how what used to be serious pain points now had elegant solutions and best practices baked in.
If it weren't for the pointer to my blind spot I wouldn't have looked again out of my own initiative.
Mutual respect between colleagues is such an asset to make growth happen.
- Good article, i will follow something similar from now