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!

In a recent meeting, the managers of a construction project discussed making a change requested by the property owner. The owner wanted to install a fence to protect part of the perimeter. The construction manager directed a subcontractor to execute the change, in spite of the subcontractor’s concerns that installing the fence could harm several mature trees on the site. Because the project had been contentious, with more delays than one would prefer for a project on a fast track, the senior project managers were inclined to direct the fencing subcontractor to simply do as he was told and be done with it.

But a young project manager at the table saw it differently. He recognized that in this situation, landscaping and environmental concerns should take a higher priority. He knew that the success of the overall project would be compromised if the facility opened with large, dying trees along one side of the property. Because surely when the owner saw them, he would focus on the problem, not the improvement he had requested. And he would rightly ask why his construction manager did not tell him of the risks and propose an alternative solution.

The young project manager was less seasoned than his colleagues, and perhaps he was viewed as less educated, since his degree was not in engineering. However, out of all the professionals in the room, he was the only one who “got it.” Instead of narrowing his focus to what initially seemed to be the most important issue—how to meet the owner’s desire for a fence—he was able to step back and see the bigger picture. He understood the need to address all aspects of the issue and achieve the best overall outcome. In other words, he has the skills of a generalist.

This young man consulted his confidants in the project and the industry to determine how he, as a junior professional, might help facilitate a better solution. Working through his superiors, he ultimately was able to get a recommendation from the fencing contractor outlining the risks and forcing everyone to see the forest, not just the trees (no pun intended).

This generalist approach to the problem will result in a more successful project. And throughout his career, this young person will be a leader by using generalist principles and approaches to solve problems.

In other words, project managers need to stay focused on managing the project rather than doing the project. Managers who can’t resist the urge to jump in and fix things can get “stuck in the weeds.” They spend their time and attention on tasks that should be left to other team members. Meanwhile, the project drifts off course or stalls due to lack of leadership.

Outstanding project managers in any venue—construction, IT, engineering, or everyday life—have skills beyond technical expertise. They see how all the pieces fit into the big picture. They stay focused on the ultimate goal. They have clarity about their own role as leaders.

In other words, they are generalists.

We all remember the old story of Goldilocks, who wandered into the home of three bears during a walk in the woods. On the kitchen table she found three bowls of porridge. One was too hot; one was too cold; but the third was just right, and Goldilocks ate it all. Then she walked into the living room to rest in a chair. The first chair was too big, and so was the second. The third and smallest one was just right, but as Goldilocks settled into it, the chair broke into pieces. Still tired, she wandered upstairs to the bedroom and found three beds. She tested them all as she had the porridge and chairs, finding the third bed just right.

This story illustrates a key analytical process that supports generalism: using all of one’s senses to determine which process, outcome, product, or individual seems to be the best fit. It’s about “wearing” (or owning) your decisions. It’s about making the choice that best fits you because it must serve you.

Papa Bear’s porridge was fine for him. Mama Bear’s chair was best for her. But not for Goldilocks. She had to make her own decision based on her own needs and desires. She had to find which porridge suited her best, which chair was most comfortable and sturdy, and which bed provided her the best nap.

This is a crucial process for good generalist. Which suits? Which lasts? Which works best? Given all the analytical and quantitative measures, the final test should be that of the Three Bears story.