On Why Expert is Missing Four Letters

It feels a little odd to be writing an article that is essentially about ego on the very day where the UK's Prime Minister is displaying a shocking lack of humility against a backdrop of almost his entire cabinet resigning. What a stunning display of self-importance, but also a timely reminder that our pride really can obstruct us from doing the right (and obvious) thing for the collective good. Without wanting to inflate Alexander the not-so-great's ego any further, I must clarify that this post was actually inspired by a strong, adverse reaction I've been having to a number of different sources - all revolving around the idea of 'experts' and 'expertise'.

Coaching is an emergent profession - we all see negative rhetoric casually thrown around about how 'anyone can call themselves a coach' and how our unregulated profession can lead to accusations of coaches "selling [people] an unattainable fantasy". Certainly there are complex questions upon which we must collectively reflect in order to challenge and uphold our professional standards, our ethical practice and our reputation.

But what if we looked at the positives of that 'anyone can be a coach' sentiment? On a simplistic level, if you could switch off the hypothalamus (that little bit of our brain that loves and seeks reward, such as academic attainment and the kind of shiny badges you get from accreditation (just me?)), wouldn't you want to work in a field that is accessible; embracing of a multitude of backgrounds and approaches; and perhaps most simply of all, attainable as a career for many at any stage of their 'working life'?

What's getting in the way of coaches and the coaching profession embracing the fact that you don't have to have a specific, linear path towards being a coach? That the field itself embraces a number of different avenues, perspectives, frameworks and approaches? For me it's two big, clumsy things getting firmly in the way - ego, and status. And for me, this is where the role of the 'expert' comes in.

The issue of 'status' is one that really flips my thinking back and forwards like an Olympic gymnast. On the one hand, I would love to pursue Chartership as a Coaching Psychologist, I'm eyeing up a PhD and I'm already the proud owner of three psychology degrees. I think it's important for us to study and learn about our work, to contribute to research, to challenge our preconceptions and instinctual behaviours. I also think it's important that we are externally validated as competent, ethical practitioners due to the high risk of harm if we work in a way with our clients that is outside of the boundaries of our experience and accepted frameworks. On the other hand, I find some of these practices inaccessible, expensive, unfairly rewarding those with the finance, capacity and network to join an exclusive gang that by its very composition, excludes others from feeling 'good enough'.

I've written about the need to remove ego in coaching before, so I won't labour that point here. But I do feel it plays an important part in people's desire to become 'experts' and it is one of the biggest things I observe as getting in the way of people's growth and openness.

And so to experts and expertise. The etymology of expert shows us that its roots are in experience - but we don't typically think of experts as 'someone who happened upon an idea or line of thinking a little bit earlier than I did' - rather we use them as a yard stick of comparison and sometimes shame - "I could never be so pioneering / innovative / amazing". I recently read the preface to a Coaching Psychology book where the authors asserted that they had been coaching psychologists 'long before the field became fashionable'. My response to this was to say 'oh f*ck off', out loud, to nobody in particular. I get the sentiment, and I understand why this sentence made it into the preface, but it really grinds my gears when people 'other' themselves in this way with a not-so-subtle subtext of 'unlike you, we were here first'.

This idea that getting to something first is the best way to assert your capability is simply nonsense - I have worked with brand new coaches who have taught me more about myself and my own practice than textbooks or tenured professors could ever dream of, and established coaches who have such problematic practice that I have felt it necessary to report them to their accrediting body. This is not to diminish the debt of gratitude we owe to the pioneers of our field, or indeed to argue against the fact that time can and often does lead to individuals with highly specialist knowledge and excellence in their chosen area. But this idea of tenure as an indicator of magnificence is simply untrue, and the 'othering' of people who simply happened to be born later / discovered coaching more recently / didn't know what they didn't know has to stop. We are all in this together, and we can only let our profession and its impact shine if we embrace the multitude of voices. Diversity of thinking drives innovation. The future of coaching is up for grabs.

So then, the four letters that are missing from 'expert'? Experiment. The roots of experiment include the more obvious: observing; trialling; testing, but also feats of magic and sorcery. Sign. Me. Up. In the future, when I'm fortunate to have opportunities to share my thinking and findings, it will be as experimenter, collaborator, and maybe sorceror(!), but certainly not as expert - what's the point in playing if you're hoarding all the toys to yourself? What is research if not an opportunity to develop our collective knowledge through challenge and conversation?