A specter is haunting academia – that of specialization. One that has gradually crept into academic and research circles over time. The past few years have afforded me the luxury of working as a researcher. I call it a “luxury” because it is often possible to quench the thirst for intellectual inquiry in research. That is not to say that there are a good number of facets to modern academic research that I do not particularly have a taste for. For instance, one thing that I find frustrating is this seemingly endless focus on the peer-reviewed publications game. No doubt it has its advantages in driving academic inquiry forward, yet this number-driven venture can often be gamed, and most often than not, is done at such leisurely a pace that perhaps a tortoise can outpace it from start to finish. Yet, this peer-reviewed publications game is not the topic of this article. What I do want to talk about is this all so persistent pressure that we all researchers face from time to time – that is the pressure to “specialize.”
My argument against specialization is not a brazenly absolute one but rather has a more nuanced character to it. Specialization has its benefits in the academic research world – the prime one is that when one can specialize in a subject, it is often possible to study the key research areas in that specific subject at a closer and more detailed level. In this sense, I do not have anything, particularly against subject specialists, however, I do firmly believe that even these subject specialists should take both time and effort to acquaint themselves with other subjects that lie at the intersection of their own – because it is often here at such overlaps that the most interesting research questions and findings lie. For instance, economists perhaps could learn a lot more if they knew how sociologists approach similar research questions from a different angle, similarly – sociologists themselves could benefit from the worldview of anthropologists.
Shifting back to the debate on specialization, one is often pressured into adopting this new peculiar breed of specialization. Something I call “hyper-specialization.” I maintain, that when it comes to this sort of specialization, it adds less and takes away more from the process of academic research and inquiry. Let me take an example to further elucidate my point – for instance, asking researchers to specialize within subjects, often in very narrowly confined fields, is a growing if not already well-established trend in academia.
An economist might be asked to specialize in something as narrowly confined as Real Estate Economics, Labor Economics, Energy Economics, etc. Although it is not to say that specialists for such narrowly defined fields are not able to incorporate key theoretical ideas from other sub-fields within their subjects – the good ones invariably do – but this process of hyper-specialization adds another layer among researchers and their counterpart researchers in other subjects. Hence, making the possibility of interdisciplinary research all the more difficult.
The foremost argument in favor of specialization is that specialization promotes efficiency. This argument was most famously espoused by the economists of the industrial age. They argue that in the process of production, when each constituent part – let it be an individual or a firm – is made to focus on performing a subset of activities rather than performing all activities, they are able to achieve production of that part more efficiently, this then at an aggregate level leads to more efficient production.
Such specialization or division of tasks, call it whatever – has its advantages and has proven to be a more efficient way of manufacturing particularly when it comes to mass production for mass consumption. But the question is, that whether such a production-consumption-inspired approach is also suitable for academic research. University administrators and research managers might believe that it is the case, and hence this persistent pressure on all researchers to hyper-specialize. However, one needs to probe the question of whether what works for the production of economic goods can be isomorphically applied to the production of knowledge.
I am sure, that many within academia and also beyond would disagree with me. Perhaps specialization and the technical efficiency it begets is their cup of tea. But for me personally, specialization, particularly hyper-specialization, takes away the joy from academic inquiry and leaves it barren in all so many numerous ways. The last thing I would like to be called is either a “labor economist,” “energy economist” or any hatched-up self-confining terms of such nature.
My argument against specialization is not a brazenly absolute one but rather has a more nuanced character to it. Specialization has its benefits in the academic research world – the prime one is that when one can specialize in a subject, it is often possible to study the key research areas in that specific subject at a closer and more detailed level. In this sense, I do not have anything, particularly against subject specialists, however, I do firmly believe that even these subject specialists should take both time and effort to acquaint themselves with other subjects that lie at the intersection of their own – because it is often here at such overlaps that the most interesting research questions and findings lie. For instance, economists perhaps could learn a lot more if they knew how sociologists approach similar research questions from a different angle, similarly – sociologists themselves could benefit from the worldview of anthropologists.
Shifting back to the debate on specialization, one is often pressured into adopting this new peculiar breed of specialization. Something I call “hyper-specialization.” I maintain, that when it comes to this sort of specialization, it adds less and takes away more from the process of academic research and inquiry. Let me take an example to further elucidate my point – for instance, asking researchers to specialize within subjects, often in very narrowly confined fields, is a growing if not already well-established trend in academia.
An economist might be asked to specialize in something as narrowly confined as Real Estate Economics, Labor Economics, Energy Economics, etc. Although it is not to say that specialists for such narrowly defined fields are not able to incorporate key theoretical ideas from other sub-fields within their subjects – the good ones invariably do – but this process of hyper-specialization adds another layer among researchers and their counterpart researchers in other subjects. Hence, making the possibility of interdisciplinary research all the more difficult.
The foremost argument in favor of specialization is that specialization promotes efficiency. This argument was most famously espoused by the economists of the industrial age. They argue that in the process of production, when each constituent part – let it be an individual or a firm – is made to focus on performing a subset of activities rather than performing all activities, they are able to achieve production of that part more efficiently, this then at an aggregate level leads to more efficient production.
Such specialization or division of tasks, call it whatever – has its advantages and has proven to be a more efficient way of manufacturing particularly when it comes to mass production for mass consumption. But the question is, that whether such a production-consumption-inspired approach is also suitable for academic research. University administrators and research managers might believe that it is the case, and hence this persistent pressure on all researchers to hyper-specialize. However, one needs to probe the question of whether what works for the production of economic goods can be isomorphically applied to the production of knowledge.
I am sure, that many within academia and also beyond would disagree with me. Perhaps specialization and the technical efficiency it begets is their cup of tea. But for me personally, specialization, particularly hyper-specialization, takes away the joy from academic inquiry and leaves it barren in all so many numerous ways. The last thing I would like to be called is either a “labor economist,” “energy economist” or any hatched-up self-confining terms of such nature.