Will Schwing

BR Editor in Chief

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.” – Lazarus Long in Time Enough for Love, by Robert A. Heinlein

For all you science fiction nerds out there, you’ll undoubtedly know the author of this quote by his other works, Starship Troopers and Stranger in a Strange Land, amongst others. Often called the “Dean of Science Fiction”, he was a deep proponent of truth and accuracy in fiction and was an advocate for broad human competence. A breadth, rather than depth, of knowledge and skills. For a modern human, that seems impossible. We’re increasingly asked to specialize, in our jobs and as people, but Heinlein, and yours truly, would argue that the greatest evolutionary adaptation we have is our ability to change. Adaptation is the adaptation, and as the world changes around us so should we.

The future of our industry seems poised for more radical change than we've seen in a while. Some of those pressures are external, like the internet and AI, or economic pressures, and those brought on by globalization, to name a few. Other pressures may be internal as we face mergers and educational debt and a mental health crisis, again, to name just a few. What does that mean for us in the industry? Do we drill down into our core specializations, or go wide? What do we risk winning and losing in either of those scenarios? This isn’t a knock on specialists. We need depth in medicine, of course. The point is directed at our changing environment and how we react to it.

At a conference in London, I was recently asked to sit in on a discussion being held between thought leading veterinarians and those organizations leading our industry. In that conversation, one veterinarian framed the change in their role as moving from the vet as the sole arbiter of medical knowledge to something more akin to a spider, sitting at the center of the web. In this web we have information gathered from the vet, gathered from pet owners, Dr. Google or even AI, telemedicine, and so on. Specifically, this vet mentioned James Herriot, someone we know from stories and television, who even in the mid-20th century saw his role as a partner and a collaborator with animal owners.

In this edition of the Bowman Report, you’re going to read a lot about change: in how pet owners want to be perceived, in how relationships should be managed, in ownership vs partnership. The veterinary environment is changing. This is where I go back to Heinlein’s quote. Natural selection isn’t just the survival of the fittest, but the survival of those most adaptable to changing environments. By diversifying, by broadening our competencies and skills, we make ourselves more adaptable to change. Consumer behavior and mergers and AI are all potential industry asteroids, or they are the things that propel adaptable survivors to the top of the chain.

So, my challenge to you, dear reader, is to push yourself beyond what feels moderate. By moderate, I mean the safe choice: staying in your lane and sticking to the one thing you already know you're good at. Learn the part of the business you've never had to touch. Sit in on the conversation that isn't technically yours. Take on the project nobody handed you. Moderation in moderation. I'll leave you with one last quote: "Balance is for tightrope walkers." That one's from yours truly. We spiders have a whole web to tend, not just one strand. Let's all push ourselves to demand variety, not just more.