At least when it comes to information and open-mindedness. Here’s David Epstein in WaPo:
This should not be entirely surprising. University of Pennsylvania psychologist Philip Tetlock made a similar finding in a 20-year study that tested the ability of experts to make accurate predictions about geopolitical events. The results, in short, showed that the average expert in a given subject was also, on average, a horrific forecaster. Their areas of specialty, academic degrees and (for some) access to classified information made no difference. Some of the most narrowly specialized experts actually performed worse as they accumulated credentials. It seemed that the more vested they were in a worldview, the more easily they could always find information to fit it.
There was, however, one subgroup of scholars that did markedly better: those who were not intellectually anchored to a narrow area of expertise. They did not hide from contrary and apparently contradictory views, but rather crossed disciplines and political boundaries to seek them out.
Tetlock gave the forecasters nicknames, borrowed from a well-known philosophy essay: the narrow-view hedgehogs, who “know one big thing” (and are terrible forecasters), and the broad-minded foxes, who “know many little things” (and make better predictions). The latter group’s hunt for information was a bit like a real fox’s hunt for prey: They roam freely, listen carefully and consume omnivorously.
And the foxes are much better at forecasting than the hedgehogs, even within the hedgehogs’ discipline. We’ve seen a report like this before here, and it does remain a fascinating subject, doesn’t it? I have to wonder if part of the problem is an emotional attachment by the experts to their particular area of expertise, such that, even unconsciously, they incline their forecasts such that their area of expertise remains important and foremost, when perhaps it diminishes.
