Recently I was struck by the fact that the 2010 movie The King’s Speech includes several themes relevant to generalism.

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.