Since we’re so reluctant to ask doctors about big things—like how to keep from going to an early grave—it’s no surprise that in many cases, we don’t even consider asking them about little things. We worry about looking stupid, or wasting the doctor’s valuable time, or not making the best use of our rare opportunity to talk to a medical professional. So instead of asking a series of questions to verify and clarify the instructions we’ve been given, we nod, feeling that we should understand, whether or not we actually do.

Case in point: During his initial visit with a new HMO physician, my husband Steve was advised to monitor his blood pressure at home. The doctor recommended purchasing a blood pressure cuff, and he mentioned that a well-known drugstore chain—let’s call it Store A—carried them. He didn’t explain why he specified Store A, and Steve didn’t bother to ask.

As it happened, the doctor also gave Steve a prescription that was called in to a different drugstore. On his way home, Steve decided to save time by picking up a blood pressure cuff at Store B along with his prescription. He didn’t think the brand mattered, and the doctor hadn’t said anything about Store B one way or the other.

At a follow-up visit a few weeks later, the doctor was surprised and perplexed to hear that his patient had purchased Store B’s blood pressure cuff. It turns out that this brand of cuff isn’t adequate, at least in the doctor’s view. “You should return it,” he said, reminding Steve that he had specifically directed him to Store A.

My point here isn’t to tell you which blood pressure cuff is better. (Ask your own doctor.) I’m telling this story to encourage you to do what my husband didn’t: Ask experts to explain their advice.

Don’t worry about looking dumb. Don’t assume you already know the answer. Just ask.

Like Steve, many of us go astray when we make assumptions. At the initial visit, my husband heard and understood what the doctor said. But he thought the doctor was just giving an example of where to buy the cuff, not steering him toward any particular brand.

The doctor also made incorrect assumptions. He took it for granted that Steve would hear his words as a recommendation to buy Store A’s model. He further assumed that Steve would do exactly that, not choose some other option. Had he been a better communicator, the doctor might have clearly stated that he thought Store A’s model was the best choice, then taken a moment to explain why.

But Steve can’t control how well his physician communicates—and neither can you. What you can do is use your generalist skills to improve your communication with medical professionals and, as a result, your health (which you own). Remember these points:

• Allow yourself to be important enough to ask questions and get them answered.
• Just because you don’t see a reason for a particular instruction, don’t assume there is none. There might be a very good reason. Find out what it is.
• When receiving instructions, picture carrying them out and anticipate what your actions will be. If for any reason you might not be willing or able to follow the instructions exactly, explain why and ask, “Would it be okay if I . . . ?”
• Don’t leave the office until your questions have been answered and any issues resolved. Yes, the doctor’s time is valuable, but you are paying for that time and should receive the appropriate value. What’s more, your time is valuable as well—as is your health.

In any construction project, all of the technical experts work hard in their own areas of specialty. But without a generalist who can see the big picture, coordinate the various technical aspects, and keep everyone focused on the needs of the owner and end user, sometimes the entire project suffers. I experienced such an example recently at a new medical center and emergency care facility near my home.

I was scheduled for a medical test at the center, which had been open only a short time. I’d driven past the facility during construction and observed people gathering for a tour just before it opened. However, without a need to visit, I hadn’t actually seen the facility up close.

I pulled into the parking lot in plenty of time for my appointment and drove toward what I assumed to be the main entrance. However, as I neared it, I saw that it was marked by a stone pillar with a large, red, illuminated “EMERGENCY” sign.

Life experience says that one never takes up space associated with emergencies (or handicapped access) when not necessary. So I drove to the other end of the facility in search of the medical center entrance. All I saw was a small, unmarked door on the side of the building. I drove across the front of the building a second time and found no other entrance.

Since the emergency entrance was the only obvious public door I could find, I returned to that area and parked. All told, I had wasted ten minutes trying to find the entrance. And if people can’t figure out how to enter a building, why build it in the first place?

When I walked in, no one greeted me; the reception desk was unattended. I saw no signage indicating where to report for the test I had scheduled. Looking through a glass partition to my left, I could see a sign saying “Emergency Triage” over a glass window. Clearly that was not where I wished to be. So I waited ten minutes until someone returned to the reception desk and asked to assist me.

Upon inquiring, I learned that, yes, this was the correct entrance (there is only one). And I wasn’t the only patient to have trouble figuring that out. I was told that some individuals had used the unmarked door on the side of the building, unexpectedly entering physicians’ offices by mistake because of the unclear signage.

Apparently, the general contractor had allowed the signage contractor to design and install signage without a Three Bears test. By that I mean the process of analyzing proposed solutions and judging which one is “just right” for the intended user. (Read more about how generalists use the Three Bears test.)

The signage chosen for this facility may have been the right choice for paramedics and people needing emergency care. But it didn’t address the needs of another key group of users—patients like me, who come to the facility for tests and other appointments.

This construction project could have used someone with strong generalist skills to advocate for the end users, place a high priority on their needs, and ensure that those needs were met. One would think a “general” contractor would be able to coordinate (read “generalize”) at a high level. Good ones do!

The Academy Award-winning film is based on actual events in the lives of King George VI and an Australian speech therapist, Lionel Logue. The future king (at that time known as Prince Albert, Duke of York) turns to Logue as his last hope in overcoming a severe stammer. The rest of the movie shows both the progress of the therapy and the development of the two men’s friendship over the course of several years.

It’s a compelling film on many levels. But as someone who’s interested in empowering non-specialists to work more confidently with specialists, I was particularly struck by what The King’s Speech has to say about expertise, confidence, and self-worth. Here are four truths we can learn from the movie.

Specialists are no guarantee of success

An early scene shows the Duke of York being treated by a specialist (evidently the latest in a long series of them) whose treatment includes placing marbles in the duke’s mouth. This expert no doubt had impressive credentials, but his techniques were of no help at all.

I don’t mean to imply that specialists aren’t useful. As the movie goes on to show, another specialist (Logue) not only helped the king, but changed the course of his life.

Just remember that the act of bringing in a specialist, all by itself, does not guarantee success. You need to do your part. That includes carefully choosing a competent expert, asking plenty of questions, making your desires known, and holding the specialist accountable. Otherwise, you may end up with a mouth full of marbles.

Even kings have confidence issues

The film portrays a future king who is not only justifiably terrified of speaking in public, but overwhelmed, at least momentarily, by the prospect of bearing the burdens of monarchy while global war looms on the horizon. Most of us, thankfully, don’t have such an enormous level of responsibility. But many of us lack confidence in our own knowledge and abilities.

One of my goals in writing about generalism is to help you develop that confidence. Whether you’re taking your desktop computer to be repaired or asking for an update on a multimillion-dollar construction project, don’t let yourself be intimidated. As the owner of the computer, or the manager of the construction project, you’re the “king.” Square your shoulders and, as George VI eventually did, demand the respect that is your due.

Success is measured by results

One of the crucial scenes in the movie occurs in Westminster Abbey on the eve of the coronation ceremony. The Archbishop of Canterbury, believing that Logue is not an appropriate person to treat the king’s speech impediment, has had the commoner’s background checked. The archbishop informs the king that Logue lacks proper credentials—in fact, he’s not even a doctor.

The king, who from the beginning has unwittingly been addressing his therapist as “Dr. Logue,” is quietly infuriated. After dismissing everyone else, he confronts Logue, accusing him of fraud.

Logue responds by citing his true credentials: experience. He discovered his calling by helping soldiers who returned from the Great War shell-shocked and unable to speak. Logue pressed beyond traditional muscle therapy and relaxation, empowering the soldiers to find their voices by giving them confidence that a friend was listening. His success was unprecedented.

When recruiting a specialist to help you succeed, remember that credentials do matter—but they’re not always found on a piece of paper. Proven results are more valuable than any diploma.

We all have voices

After Logue defends his qualifications, the king, unconvinced, turns his back and walks a short distance away. He bitterly describes what he envisions as the inevitable outcome of Logue’s supposed fraud: a voiceless king who will let his people down in their hour of need. Once again, the reluctant ruler reveals his inner lack of confidence.

Turning back, the king is shocked to see Logue casually perched on the coronation throne as if it were a lawn chair at a garden party. Furious at this outrageous breach of etiquette, the king sputters at Logue, ordering him to get up at once. Logue stays put. He makes light of the throne and the monarchy, goading the king into becoming more and more angry. Finally Logue asks, “Why should I waste my time listening to you?” The king bellows, without no trace of a stammer, “Because I have a right to be heard—I have a voice!”

“Yes, you do,” Logue quietly responds, rising from his seat on the throne. He assures the monarch that he will, indeed, be a good king.

King George VI literally found his voice by overcoming his stammer. The film paints a portrait of a man who also found his metaphorical voice: his confidence. Before he could rule, he had to see himself as worthy of commanding others’ respect.

We all have that same right to be heard. Don’t let specialists intimidate you, belittle your knowledge, or brush aside your needs and concerns. Find your voice—and use it to get what you want.

Just as important, I learned how to command respect from specialists. As a woman and a non-specialist, I often faced questions like “What’s your engineering degree in?” (I don’t have one) or skeptical glances that seemed to say “What do you know about this, little girl?” But in many cases, I was the one who prevented mistakes and got the project back on track by asking the common-sense questions that the “experts” had missed.

Through these and other experiences, I gradually developed the skills and strategies that I’m sharing on this website. For years I didn’t know how to explain what I do for a living, but now I have a name for it—I’m a generalist.

Generalists trust in themselves and what they know about the world. Here are five household names who have done it well:

Oprah Winfrey. She doesn’t have a political science degree but that didn’t stop her from helping Barack Obama seal the 2008 Presidential election. She’s not a teacher but founded a successful school; not a writer but has one of the most successful magazines in the US to her credit. And the fact that she’s not a licensed therapist didn’t matter at all to the millions of people who were touched by her talk show over the years.

Steve Jobs. Most inventors are lucky to have one household appliance to their credit. Jobs’ vision brought us the computer on your lap, the iPod in your car, the iPad in your hands, and the smartphone in your pocket. Apple’s hallmark of creating relevant, functional, indispensable products is in large part due to the fact that Jobs remained personally involved and invested in each. Instead of specializing in the business of being a CEO, he was constantly learning about what people really want and need, even to the sometimes startling extreme of answering his own email.

Al Gore. Had Al Gore limited himself to specializing in politics, he would have been a footnote in history. Instead, he is the recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize, a respected author, and a dedicated environmentalist. Sometimes a generalist’s path emerges later in life, but the key point is the same—a broad knowledge base and versatile skills bring opportunity.

Martha Stewart. The name of her company, Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, says it all. From an early career that ranged from model to stockbroker to caterer, Stewart has followed her passions to become the ultimate entrepreneur. Her taste reigns 365 days a year, from weddings and holidays to kitchen basics, crafts, and kids. If Stewart had to specialize in just one thing, it would probably be success.

Richard Branson. The ultimate modern Renaissance man, billionaire Richard Branson didn’t just start a company—he pioneered a brand. Rather than specializing in one area, Branson’s Virgin Group is at the center of over 400 enterprises, from music and airlines to beverages and cell phones. He has his hands in comic books, health care, online games, hotels, green technology, and more, and that’s just his business life. An adventurer, philanthropist, and public figure, Branson never put limits on himself, despite dropping out of school at age 16. “Business opportunities are like buses,” he’s quoted as saying. “There’s always another one coming.”

So what’s the big idea here—That only celebrities can be successful generalists? That generalism is the path to becoming a multimillionaire? Of course not. But these five individuals prove beyond a doubt that specialism isn’t the only path to success. The next time someone pressures you to focus on just one narrow field or sneers at your lack of “expert” credentials, just smile and think of Oprah.