I’m Mashraf Aiman, and lately I’ve been thinking about a strange tension that follows anyone who works deeply in tech: the more experience you gather, the harder it becomes to call yourself an “expert.”
On paper, I’ve done a lot—built products, taught people, published work, and solved problems that forced me to stretch way beyond my comfort zone. Yet when someone asks, “What are your areas of expertise?” I pause. Not because I don’t know my strengths, but because the word expert feels too small and too rigid for a field that changes every day.
When Confidence Collides With Curiosity
People often assume doubt means inexperience. But in reality, the people who stay in the trenches long enough realize how quickly knowledge expands. Every new project opens edges you didn’t see before. Every challenge uncovers complexity no course or certificate ever explained.
You get good—really good—at specific things. You build practical instincts. You develop pattern recognition. You ship work that holds up under real pressure.
But you also recognize your blind spots more accurately than beginners ever can.
And that recognition isn’t insecurity.
It’s literacy.
The Real Problem: We’ve Turned Expertise Into Performance
We live in a world where credentials act like currency. Platforms, resumes, and algorithms practically force people to brand themselves as “experts” to survive the filtering systems.
A weekend bootcamp? Suddenly someone is a “React expert.”
One successful project? “Thought leader.”
A single online AI course? “AI specialist.”
The word has been inflated beyond meaning.
The incentive isn’t mastery — it’s optics.
The more uncertain the system, the more people cling to polished labels.
But here’s the truth:
Certainty can be dangerous in fields where uncertainty is the default.
Especially in domains like security, architecture, research, education, and incident response — places where competence isn’t proven through keywords but through experience, endurance, failure, and iteration.
A Better Metric: Demonstrated Competence
Instead of chasing the “expert” badge, I ask myself something simpler and more honest:
What can I repeatedly deliver at a reliable, defensible level — and would someone pay me for the result?
Then I audit myself on four dimensions:
- Repetition — Have I done this enough times to predict the rough edges?
- Success — Do my solutions work outside controlled environments?
- Value — Would someone trust me to do it again?
- Teachability — Can I explain it clearly enough that others benefit?
With that lens:
-
Strong competence:
- Building practical systems for real users
- Teaching technical concepts in accessible ways
- Translating messy problems into workable frameworks
-
Developing competence:
- Higher-scale cloud security
- Emerging areas I’m still practicing, not performing
-
Not competent yet:
- Areas I haven’t touched deeply enough to execute under pressure
It’s an honest map — free from self-promotion, free from insecurity.
The Paradox: Learning More Makes You Claim Less
Here’s the part that surprises people:
The more you understand a field, the harder it becomes to pretend you’ve mastered it.
That’s not confusion — that’s maturity.
Beginners think they know everything.
Intermediates know they don’t know enough.
Professionals know the limits better than anyone else.
You don’t want a doctor who stopped learning once they got their license.
You don’t want an engineer who believes nothing can surprise them.
You don’t want a security professional who thinks they’ve “seen it all.”
Humility isn’t a weakness. It’s a survival skill.
The Shift We Need: Evidence Over Titles
Imagine if roles, conferences, bios, and applications didn’t use the word “expert” at all.
Imagine if we asked people to show outcomes instead of performing labels.
- “Expert in backend systems” → “Built and scaled X systems serving Y users for Z months.”
- “AI Expert” → “Shipped ML models that achieved measurable results in real environments.”
- “Senior educator” → “Created instructional materials that improved learner outcomes by X%.”
This flips the entire system:
- No more title inflation
- No more guessing
- No more gatekeeping through jargon
- No more pretending
Just clarity. Just evidence. Just demonstrated competence.
So, Am I an Expert?
Honestly, I still don’t know.
And I’m surprisingly comfortable with that.
Here’s what I am sure of:
- I’ve built things that work in the real world.
- I’ve helped people understand complex ideas in simple terms.
- I’ve delivered under pressure without needing the “expert” badge to validate it.
- I’ve stayed curious long enough to notice my blind spots and name them honestly.
If that makes me an expert, the label still feels too small.
If it doesn’t, “competent practitioner” is more than enough.
Because the real value isn’t in the title — it’s in the track record.
And deep down, you already know which category you fall into.
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