“An expert is a person who has made all the mistakes that can be made in a very narrow field”

–Niels Bohr, Physicist 1885 – 1962

Bohr’s definition has a nice ring. It’s different from Gladwell’s 10,000 hour Outliers expert, but recognizes that those endless hours aren’t filled with infallible preaching.

It emphasizes the timeless beauty of trial and error.

I’m reading Jonah Lehrer’s How we Decide, a neurological adventure into the decision-making process. In the book, Lehrer writes about the science of trial and error. Trial and error is a cognitive training process, where, over time, we teach our brain cells to never repeat our past mistakes.

“Experts are profoundly intuitive. When an expert evaluates a situation, he doesn’t compare all available options and consciously analyze relevant information. Instead, an expert depends on the emotions generated by his dopamine neurons. Prediction errors [trial and error] have been translated into useful knowledge, which allows him to tap into a set of accurate feelings he can’t explain.”

Becoming a good quarterback, world-chess champion, or frankly any kind of expert isn’t about endless practice.  Lehrer, describing a backgammon champion:

“Robertie didn’t become a world champion just by playing a lot of backgammon. ‘It’s not the quantity of practice, it’s the quality.’ According to Robertie, the most effective way to get better is to focus on your mistakes.  In other words, you need to consciously consider the errors being internalized by your dopamine neurons. After a match, he painstakingly reviews what happened. Every decision is critiqued and analyzed.”

Studying your past mistakes, in short, is the path to expertise. Consultants never realize their mistakes. After a gig and before accomplishing anything of substance, consultants are out the door, onto their next project. They studied the client’s problem, made a recommendation, and handed over a bill for their fees. No effort is made to study their advice and determine every single error, regardless of magnitude.

And if Niels Bohr is right, consultants are not becoming better experts. Their expertise has plateaued.

Perhaps the glorified role of consultant, brushing shoulders with c-level execs and recommending strategy is all wrong. Perhaps it’s the guy in the trenches, the person accountable for what went right and what went morbidly wrong, with the real experience.

Something to think about: the only way to get it right next time is to study what went wrong this time. Otherwise, you’re that guy.

My last post praised the glory of behavioral economics. I discussed how marketers can use behavioral economics to influence behavior. One example was a behavioral economist who manipulated the elements of a bank letter, like the interest rate, copy, and imagery. He discovered that the photo played a larger role than the interest rate in converting loan letters.

And it got me thinking: what about the bank itself? What if the same letter tested the brand, like Citibank, Bank of America, Capital One? What would we learn?

In short, what if behavioral economists took a critical eye to brands?

It’s a question of strategy vs. tactics. Behavioral economics, sadly, favors the latter. Time to throw down some classic Sun Tzu:

“Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat” [via Mike Hudack].

When we apply behavioral economics, in its current state, to marketing, it’s overwhelmingly tactical. Everything is framed on our decisions in the moment, how to exploit our irrationality by leveraging a host of cognitive biases.

Could behavioral economics advise on the strategic side of creating and managing brands? The current frameworks for brand strategy (brand equity analysis, positioning) aren’t scientific enough. The core tools are based on a 50 year old methodology developed by P&G. I’d welcome any new research, especially with the degree of academic rigor that I’d expect from behavioral economists.

Imagine this: research on how to create a brand identity that drives loyalty and passionate fans. Or why are we emotionally connected to some brands.

Just as a prospect can be influenced by a photo on a loan letter, so too can the emotional qualities of a letter’s brand affect our behavior. Such research isn’t accomplished by a marketer-led analysis with focus groups–I’m talking hard-core fMRI.

Something to think about: Can there be a more disciplined approach to brand building, where we determine the right emotional qualities via a scientific process? Would this free us from sweating over the tactical stuff?