16/2025: What experience feels like

Image © Jose 2025

Experience matters. Period.

I don’t know how many hours are necessary to master something. The 10,000-hour mark has likely been debunked, but I don’t think anyone would question that experience matters. You put in the time, and somewhere along the way you become… something. Skilled. Capable. Maybe even an expert.

But what actually makes someone an expert? Is it just repetition? Is it about being paid, being respected, being able to build a life around it?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot during our house renovation, 30% of the work done is done by the general contractor’s crew. They are non-specialists, which is different from non-experienced folks that do general work around the job, from carpentry to fixing and installing things. But the bulk of the work is done by specialists, who often are very experienced and, in some cases, experts at what they do. They’re on the clock, they arrive, assess the job and what they have to work with, and they just do the job. Out of there as soon as it’s done. Another job waiting. When you see these folks working, it’s like attending a masterclass.

And then you find some of these specialists who don’t have the right experience. You see them fumbling around. You see them having to redo the work, find excuses, take too long—and at the end, you know they lack experience. And you end up paying the price, even when it is the master contractor technically paying, because you actually know that under that plasterboard, the job was really not that well done.

I am inexperienced at house renovations, or perhaps I just have a high expectation of what experience is, and an acute awareness of what I am and am not experienced at. I have done some house renovation work, I’ve maintained houses my entire life, not calling on a lot of external help (maybe plumbing, I hate fixing water…). But I have not gutted houses and done everything in them from scratch. I have not gone down the catacombs and behind the walls and floors of old houses and sorted out structural beams and joints.

It’s funny, when you see it being done, it looks fairly easy and doable. But knowing what you are doing and why you are doing something in a particular way requires experience. Yes, these folks may visit YouTube for something in particular, but they’ve done it enough times, with enough variations and enough mistakes, to ensure they succeed without botching up the job and having to redo it.

And one of the ways you feel experience, before you even see the outcome, is through the tools. Experienced people take care of their tools. You see the wear on the handle, the custom modifications they’ve made over the years. Tools that have been honed, rewrapped, filed down. A handprint, a method, a history. When someone shows up with those tools, you know they’ve been through the work.

This house, the one we’re renovating, used to belong to a sculptor. A master of his craft. You can sense it in the way things were left behind, carefully arranged, quietly purposeful. I now live with some of his tools. You see the wear, the precision, the care. They’re not just objects, they carry a history of hands that knew what they were doing. I didn’t earn them, but I recognize what they are. Experience leaves a mark.

While there are cons of overthinking, virtues of taking risks, excitement from doing something the first time, I take experience any time.

And when it comes to design – of spaces, products, services – I often think it should be approached the same way. When the work matters, when it has to hold up over time, experience makes a difference. It may not always be visible on the surface. But in the long run, it shows.