In 2020, I became obsessed with baking.

I mean, not so much in making fluffy croissants and delicate brioche buns, but rather, in watching other people bake on TV.

Like almost everyone I knew—when I was locked inside—I decided to spend my time watching a little baking show from across the pond. That show of course was, The Great British Bake Off.

If you’ve never seen it, it’s probably the most wholesome game show on TV. Each season, a series of 12 contestants test their baking skills, and only one can walk away the winner.1

Week after week, the bakers are given challenges to test their abilities producing a variety of baked goods. One week could be bread, the next could be pastry, and the next could be cake.

For a show that’s trying to find the best baker, this formula is perfect.

But after watching four or five seasons, I started to realize an interesting trend. Each year, when it was time for the season finale, something odd always happened. 

When it came down to the final three contestants, there was always an unexpected dark horse among them. A total wildcard. Someone who, from the outset, you would’ve never believed would make it to the finale. And strangely enough, sometimes this wildcard would win the whole damn thing!

Let me give you an example.

Take a look at the chart below. We have 5 contestants, each has their speciality except for one. One of our bakers, is simply okay at everything.

Now note, they’re not extraordinary in any way, but nevertheless…

Winner winner chicken dinner!

And most shocking of all, this average baker—never won a single individual challenge.2 They coasted along the entire time, completely under the radar.

It seems that, in game-show-world it’s not about who best, but rather, who can survive the longest.

The Fog of Average

Now imagine being that average baker.

On day one of our competition, you look around and see someone who is a cake fiend, a sourdough god, and a master patissier. You’ll lose to baker #1 on bread, to #2 on cakes, and #3 on pastries….and on and on.

It’s hopeless. You might as well hang up your apron right now, and head home.

You have found yourself squarely in the Fog of Average.

When comparing ourselves to those around us, the Fog of Average slides in to conveniently hide their weaknesses from us. We see only their strengths—and for someone average as hell—this is a serious blow to the ego.

It leaves us feeling ashamed, and hopeless. Ashamed that we never became great at anything, and hopeless because we’re so far behind our peers. Just to catch up to one of them would take years of dedicated work.

So what’s a baker to do?

Well the obvious thing would be, go back home, and become an expert at something. Commit to one single area of expertise, and go deep. Whatever you do, just be better than somebody at something!

The tragedy is, had we simply seen the truth of our competition—and stayed to compete—we would have won the whole thing.

Retreating into Expertise

When we retreat into expertise, we’re taking a big game—let’s say the game of “Who’s the best baker?”—and turning it into a small game, “Who’s the best at making cakes?”

Why? Because small games are more manageable. There are far fewer variables involved, leading us to believe that it’s an easier game to win.

That’s to say, we retreat into expertise when we are afraid.

This fear manifests in our lives when we think; we need to get in great shape before we start dating, we need an MBA before starting a business, we need to take dance lessons before ever hitting the dance floor.

We take the big game of life, and reduce it down to a singular concentration. Something small, with defined rules. Something that an expert can win.

But maybe we can learn something from the average as hell baker. Maybe life isn’t about winning each individual challenge? Maybe it’s just about not losing?

The Magic of Mediocrity.

What The Great British Bake Off taught me was that in a game with ever-changing criteria, generalists who can survive nearly always win.3

Our lives, are a lot like the table above, but extended way further out. It looks something like this:

A series of challenges and obstacles, stretching far into the future.

For example, some of the challenges you might experience in life are: Finding a career, being a parent, leading a team, staying in shape, losing a parent, moving to a new city, finding a romantic partner, making friends, and starting over.

If you’re a business owner, you might experience a different set of challenges: Hiring your first team, firing your friend, raising money, making payroll, delegating control, making a product people actually want, marketing that product, developing a network, and starting from scratch.

If you want to win at life or business, deep specialization won’t get you very far. Instead what will take you to the finish line is avoiding catastrophic failure. Those who stay in the game longest—by virtue—will win.

Which is textbook evolution. 

The most successful species on earth, are those who consistently survive to pass on their genes. In order to do so, they need to be able to live in this current environment, and the next environment, and the next….

For millions of years, mother nature has been issuing challenges for life to overcome. As a result, she’s been picking off overly specialized species, left and right. Luckily for us, we’re the descendants of a unique kind of animal.

One that’s average at nearly everything.4 

The winners of the evolutionary lottery are not those who find themselves at the top of the food chain. Rather, they’re the plants, animals, and bacteria, who find themselves immune to specialization, and immune to catastrophe.

If you never stop, you never lose.

The truth is, when you look out at the playing field of life, you’ll see two very different stories. The first is that, someone who is average will always lose one-on-one against a specialist. The second is that, over a long enough time horizon, that same average person will outlast any specialist.

Therefore, it’s not about who’s the best, instead it’s about who can be average… the longest.

Being average for a day, makes you just average.

Being average for a month, while all your superstar peers rocket into oblivion, makes you somewhat special.

Being average for a lifetime, while every specialist you started with has disappeared, makes you one of a kind. A true phenomenon, and an outlier in the most spectacular way.

The real Magic of Mediocrity lies within the time variable. Time is the force that thins the herd, and kills off the competition. But it’s also the same force that elevates you to new heights. Time is the scaffolding of your future.

For someone average as hell, time gives you the opportunity to grow. To turn your 5/10’s into 6/10’s then 7/10’s. It allows you to generally elevate your skills, without retreating into specialization.

The longer you stay in the game, the more your mediocrity is magnified, and the more magical your outcomes will appear.

Time is the key. Stick around and see what happens.

—Zac