Allergic. I’m allergic to self-proclaimed experts. For me, it’s a red flag.
My background in economics gave me a few useful mental models, one of them is information asymmetries. You might not know a person, but your brain is quick to jump to conclusions, tugged by intuition, biases, and statistical discrimination.I understand I still don’t know that person, but their conduct helps reduce the information asymmetry. So when someone calls themselves an expert, to me that’s a strong signal they aren’t.
I spent more than seven years in academia. I met scholars who devoted entire careers to a tiny slice of knowledge. Some were humble and others were not. You can earn a PhD, spend 3 to 4 years researching a narrow topic, and still know almost nothing compared to those lifers. Credentials are an entry ticket, an strong signal of stubbornness, but not the summit.
That experience in Academia showed me what real expertise look like. Expertise isn’t something you can self-proclaim; it’s defined by your peers. It is on your peers. People with comparable depth, and sometimes far greater, who decide whether your knowledge and ideas are worthy. You win that verdict paper by paper. No shortcuts. You don’t see anyone on academia.edu with a tagline that says “Expert,” because those people truly know how hard it is.
Keep this in mind: you might fool newcomers. They may read your LinkedIn posts with eyes wide open. But those of us with a bit more mileage see the red flag you’re waving. We see self-proclaimed experts surfing down the first Dunning–Kruger hill, flag flapping.
Next time you feel the urge to call yourself an expert, pause. Ask yourself: do you want to look wise to the inexperienced, or be recognized by the experienced as someone who understands how vast the unknown still is?