My father is a professor of physics and a thoroughbred physicist in every sense of the word. Growing up, it amazed me how he could apply universal laws of physics to almost everything. Concepts like the conservation of energy, Newton’s laws of motion, or Einstein’s theory of relativity weren’t just scientific principles to him - they became lenses through which he understood the world.
And to be fair, physics is a powerful discipline. Some of its laws are so fundamental that they echo in fields far beyond science. But even the most universal theories begin to break down when stretched beyond their natural domain. Eventually, mental models that once offered razor-sharp clarity start offering no more judgment than common sense, or worse, they mislead.
That’s when I began to understand something deeper: good judgment isn’t just about being smart or mastering a specific field. It’s about knowing how to understand problems. It’s the ability to discern what kind of problem you’re facing, and then knowing whether your toolbox fits the domain or whether it’s time to admit you need different tools entirely.
We often fall into the trap of treating our expertise like a Swiss army knife: good for everything. But in truth, most solutions collapse when applied outside their native context. The real danger is not in having a narrow expertise; it is in refusing to acknowledge its limits.
Good judgment lies in that space between confidence and humility. In having a mind flexible enough to learn across domains, and wise enough to know when to call for reinforcements.