Why I Never Wanted to Stay in One Lane

I get asked what I actually do more often than I'd like. The honest answer takes longer than a business card allows.
In a single week I might build a social calendar, write an email campaign, photograph a product, and troubleshoot something on the back end of a website. On paper, that looks scattered. In practice, it's the part of the work I'd protect first if someone asked me to specialise.
The case for staying broad
There's a version of career advice that says pick one thing and get excellent at it. I understand where that comes from. For a lot of people, it's the right call.
But I've noticed something happens when you only ever work inside one discipline: you stop seeing how the pieces actually connect. A social post isn't just a social post. It's downstream of a brand decision, and upstream of whatever the website says when someone clicks through, and connected to whatever the email campaign promised the week before.
If you've only ever built one of those pieces, you can make that piece well. If you've built all of them, you can make them work together. That's a genuinely different skill.
The bug that lived in the gap
I noticed this most clearly the first time I had to fix something that wasn't technically my job.
An email campaign was underperforming, and everyone assumed it was a copy problem, because that's usually where people look first. It wasn't. It was a website issue, a broken link path that meant half the traffic from the email never actually landed anywhere useful.
I only caught it because I'd spent enough time in both the email system and the website itself to know what a normal path looked like, and this wasn't it. Someone who only wrote copy would never have thought to check there. Someone who only did website work might never have connected it back to a specific campaign.
I happened to be standing in both rooms at once.
That's the actual argument for range, I think. Not that it looks impressive on paper, but that it lets you catch things that fall between two specialists' areas of responsibility. Most real problems don't respect the tidy boundaries of a job title. They show up exactly in the gaps.
Why it keeps me sharper, not just busier
It also means I get bored less, which matters more than people give it credit for.
I like the variety, not because I lack focus, but because switching between a creative task and a technical one keeps me sharper at both than staying in either one for too long would. Editing a photograph and debugging a webinar automation use genuinely different parts of my attention. Moving between them regularly seems to keep both of them fresher than doing either one exclusively ever did.
Range still needs depth
None of this means depth doesn't matter. I'm not arguing for doing everything shallowly.
The goal isn't to know a little about a lot of things. It's to actually be good at each piece, and then additionally understand how they connect, which only shows up once you've done more than one of them properly.
Range without depth is just scattered. Depth without range just means you'll never catch the problem sitting quietly in the gap between your job and someone else's.
I don't think I'll ever want to specialise down to one lane, and at this point I've stopped apologising for that in interviews and introductions. The work I'm proudest of has almost always come from understanding how more than one piece fits together, not from being narrowly excellent at just one of them.
Date Published
Jul 14, 2026


