The Biggest Loser
Posted by: peter on: March 14, 2011
Before I launch into dissecting my first patent litigation case, I’m thinking that a little more needs to be said about my own qualifications for doing so. As I’ve noted in previous posts, assessing the quality of a patent is a skill demanding tripartite expertise: law, business, and technology.
Here is the basis for my claim to possessing that sort of expertise.
A circular basis for the same point is my growing list of clients. The idea here is that if more and more notable companies are relying upon my expertise in assessing patent quality, then I must possess sufficient expertise in law, business, and technology because the work demands it.
Actually, if you click the first link above, you’ll see that the areas of my expertise go well beyond law, business, and technology. Hence the term “Polymath” in the name of my company.
But “Jack” in the company name arises from the answer to the following question: How does one acquire expertise in such a wide diversity of fields at such a relatively young age (48 as of this year)?
Answer: By being the Biggest Loser.
Explanation: I was a pretty good computer scientist. Graduated in the top 1% of my undergraduate class. Did a Masters, and, recently, developed a few websites. (I was even a Rhodes Scholar finalist back in the day.) But no company today would hire me as a head of development. (And I didn’t get the Rhodes.) In terms of technology, I’m a hack.
I was pretty good law student and lawyer. Graduated in the top 10% of my Stanford Law class, clerked on the 9th Circuit, and worked for Fenwick & West in various IP legal matters in various capacities. But no law firm today would recruit me as the head partner of their IP department. In terms of IP law, I’m a hack.
I was a reasonably useful business guy. Held various strategic and business development roles within startups, big companies, and R&D units. But no company today would recruit me as CEO. In terms of business, I’m a hack.
I was a pretty good basketball player. Played on my national team. Played professionally in Europe. But I played only one year on each, and I never played in an Olympics nor in the NBA. Meaning? In terms of basketball, I was a hack.
I might well be the healthiest 48-year-old that you know. I measured my resting pulse the other morning upon waking — it was 38. My body fat is 12%. Blood glucose, blood pressure, and cholesterol readings are all optimal. In fact, virtually all 50 of my annual blood test readings are excellent. None of this is an accident of my genes. But nobody today would hire me as their health guru. In terms of personal health, I’m a hack.
I’m the inventor of a model linking the Enneagram theory of human personality with emergent findings in neuroscience. Personally speaking, I believe this work is my greatest yet, in any domain. Put simply, I think I’ve stumbled upon a core, eternal, truth about humans (and all vertebrates). But nobody wanted to publish my book, and very few have exhibited interest in this work. In terms of the neuroscience of personality, I’m a hack.
I could go on here. But you’re starting to get the picture, I hope. The answer to how one becomes a passable polymath is by attacking new fields long enough to achieve reasonable mastery, but then leaving the field well before the brass ring looms on the horizon.
[Digression: I re-read this list and wonder if I suffer from lifelong brass-ring-o-phobia.]
Sometimes, my clients ask me: “Do you know anyone else who can do this work that you do for us?”
I answer that I don’t know any. I haven’t met any other losers who are as big a loser as I am. I mean, I’ve met losers who are proficient in a couple of fields. That’s pretty common.
But rare is the loser with a list the likes of mine. 
March 14, 2011 at 10:14 pm
That’s the thing. For example, if you were a pediatric neurosurgeon, you had better be a big winner, and perhaps to the exclusion of most other things. (At least the parents of your patients would be hoping so).
You use the term “loser” in a sarcastic/funny/pejorative sort of way.
But the truth is, that while you haven’t been exceptionally brilliant at any one thing (however there are those back in Waterloo that would argue the basketball one), you have been very, very good at so may things. And the very, very good, add up to a brilliant jack of many trades, that suit your line of work perfectly. You couldn’t have had a better resume.
March 14, 2011 at 10:29 pm
Thanks Kathy. Yeah, I think it’s a zero sum world. Either we can become a narrow, specific “winner” or we can become a broad, generalized “loser”. One cool thing about the latter is that they seem the most likely to find the bridges linking disparate fields. Like, for example, if my Enneagram-brain model proves true, then that will mean that a non-neuroscience expert who is a non-Enneagram expert will have revolutionized both fields. I think it’s highly unlikely that either type of expert would have stumbled upon my model — precisely because of their own narrow focus of expertise. We generalist losers are the synthesists!