The Credential You Didn't Earn

Time passes whether you're paying attention or not.

Twenty years in a job isn't twenty years of learning. It might be one year of learning, repeated nineteen times. The repetition can feel like accumulation. It doesn’t mean it is.

Expertise is specific. It names what it knows and what it doesn't. It corrects itself when new evidence arrives. It doesn't lean on its age.

Tenure, however, is a different thing. Tenure is proximity. Tenure says: I was there. It doesn't say: I understood what I saw.

The confusion between the two is everywhere, and it's costly. Organizations promote the person who's been around longest and call it honoring experience. They're not honoring experience. They're rewarding survival. Those are not the same thing.

What does real expertise look like? It looks like decisions made under conditions where being wrong has consequences. It doesn’t look like retrospective opinions about what should have been done, actual decisions, in real time, with incomplete information, that you had to live with. Expertise accumulates in the gap between what you expected and what happened, in the moment you close that gap by updating what you believe.

That's hard. It requires a kind of honesty about failure that years of tenure can actively work against. The longer you've been doing something, the more invested you are in the story that you've been doing it right. The person with twenty years in a role has twenty years of identity wrapped up in the methods they use. Revising those methods means admitting that earlier versions of yourself were wrong. Most people would rather not.

So tenure, paradoxically, can become a defense against expertise. The long-timer who stopped asking questions. Who answers challenges with history instead of reasoning. Who mistakes familiarity with a problem for understanding of it.

The practitioner who actually knows that something looks different. They're curious about what they missed. They hold their conclusions loosely, but not weakly and they defend them when challenged, and revise them when they should. They can say I don't know without it costing them something.

Time in role is a condition for expertise, not evidence of it. Years give you exposure. What you do with that exposure is the whole question.

Some people spend twenty years getting better. Some spend twenty years getting comfortable. From the outside, both look like experience. You have to look closer to tell the difference.

Christopher Skogen