Let me begin with a simple, wonderfully freeing premise: You do not need to know everything.
A few short generations ago, it could rightly be said, Information Is Power. That was true when there wasn’t enough of it. Today, the motto should read: Information Is Fatigue. We get too much information, and a high percentage of that information is inane, meaningless, enervating. Do I really need to know whom Britney Spears is dating?
Writes Richard Saul Wurman, in Information Anxiety 2 (Que, 2001): “Information was once a sought-after and treasured commodity like a fine wine. Now, it’s regarded more like crabgrass, something to be kept at bay.”
No, information alone is no longer power. What is power is the right information, a limited amount of information – the information you need, when you need it.
The fact we must focus our learning should be self-evident, but for many years, I struggled to believe it. Growing up, I admired DaVinci, Benjamin Franklin, and other polymaths who excelled in multiple fields. I felt the gold crown of knowledge rested on those whose learning ranged across disciplines: Blaise Pascal, Desiderius Erasmus, Albert Schweitzer. I chose a liberal arts college because I believed in being well-rounded.
But whatever understandable forces create the longing to be a Renaissance scholar, guess what? We don ‘t live during the Renaissance. In fact, “Francis Bacon, a contemporary of Shakespeare, is regarded by historians as the last person to know everything in the world. Since then, each of us learns a progressively smaller percentage of all the information that exists (Richard A. Swenson, M.D., The Overload Syndrome: Learning to Live Within Your Limits (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1998)).
You and I live during a time when the universe of knowledge has exploded – giant galaxies of learning are expanding and streaming apart. Googlely indexes billions of web pages – and this number triples in 18 months. I can’t know everything.
Theologically, this truth keeps me humble and dependent on others. Practically, it frees me to concentrate my learning in key areas. I can always ask others about what I don’t know, and no one should be afraid to do that. Ignorance is not a sin; acting like you know something when you don’t, is.
Ah, but here’s the rub: How do you determine which areas of learning not to concentrate on? What information can you neglect with impunity?
Here is how: by answering these 5 questions, you will develop your unique answer:
1. Is there someone else who is expert on this – or could be? (If yes, then don’t bother yourself with it.)
2. Can questions in this information area be looked up relatively quickly? (If yes, then don’t worry about it.)
3. Is this topic essential for decisions I’m making now or in the near future? (If yes, then concentrate on it.)
4. What subjects do the most-important people around me depend on me to know? (Make your list, then shorten it, and concentrate on what’s left.)
5. Does this area fit my life’s calling and major strengths? (If yes, then concentrate on it.)
– Excerpted from Surviving Information Overload by Kevin A. Miller (Zondervan, 2004)
