Do you ever give thought to who was the smartest person ever? Or, compare one supposed historical genius with another? I am more inclined to compare them. The notion of intelligence and smarts has proven to be too difficult to quantify in this context to work out who the smartest is. A comparison though, I have found, reveals more about the way we choose to think and what we choose to learn so that we can be better at what we do.

So, in this article, I am going to compare two people history has decided are geniuses for two rather different reasons: Sir Isaac Newton and Leonardo da Vinci.

One of the things I find most remarkable about Newton is the story of how he solved for the Brachistochrone curve. This is because I am quite fascinated by the related isochronous curves and because of how quickly Newton found the solution compared to others at the time. It was a challenge set by Johann Bernoulli in a scientific journal for all those who read it. It seems that Newton did not read it because Bernoulli sent him a letter directly. While another requested one and a half years to find the solution, Newton found it on the night he read the letter (after getting home from work at The Royal Mint).

What strikes me about da Vinci is how he used the scientific method to find knowledge to help him with things as diverse as inventing machines for specific tasks and his painting. He got his hands dirty – literally. He would dissect people so he could then understand their form – allowing for better paintings. He also paid detailed attention to what he saw – using his studies of light to revolutionise the use of shadows to enhance the 3D effect in paintings. He never learned mathematics or Latin and never pursued any formal advanced studies. He was not part of the contemporary scientific community. But with the knowledge he gained, he evolved insights for ideas on mechanisms and inventions such as a strut bridge, an automated bobbin winder, a rolling mill, a tensile strength tester of wire and a lens-grinding machine.

While Newton invented the reflecting telescope, it is hard to imagine him making such advances in art or contemplating numerous types of mechanisms and inventions like da Vinci did. While da Vinci showed considerable scientific expertise, it is hard to imagine him deriving formulae for natural phenomena.
It is indeed as if each of them had powerful brains made for different things, and one could not expect one to also be good at what the other did.

But is this true?

If we go back in time further again, then we can consider Archimedes. He was definitely inventive. Think of things like: the Archimedes' screw, the compound pulley, a crane used to lift and drop attacking Roman ships, an odometer. He also came very close to inventing calculus without algebra and only geometry – making him all the more impressive.

Could Newton have achieved even more if he got his hands dirty? He did put on disguises to bust counterfeiters so he was the type to get visceral if needed – if only he put that ability to something scientific or technical.

What would da Vinci have achieved if he could have applied mathematics to his inventions for faster optimisation and assessment? He certainly had the mental capacity to learn and master mathematics – imagine if he could have used mathematics to find the most viable invention ideas to progress further.

Or, would they each have lost what made them unique and impressive?

We will never know, and each can, regardless, be very content with what they did achieve.

But it is hard to imagine any harm in them broadening their skills to augment those they already have.
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And that’s the lesson for you as a global engineer. As you move from one role to another, think about the new skills you might need – and then develop them. Even now, think about skills that could help you just a little or might help in the future – and then develop them.

From one perspective, all engineers sit somewhere on a particular spectrum. At one end are those who chase the parts of engineering they personally enjoy – often the stereotypical ones. At the other are those who understand the value, satisfaction, and deep quiet pleasure that comes from embracing the entirety of the craft.

The child engineer thrives on the simple. They enjoy the burst of creativity when ideas flow, the thrill of possibility, and the fun of imagining solutions. They love the start of the adventure. But once the idea is “basically there”? They can’t imagine what comes next or the importance of it, for they are children, and their interest fades. They want to move on to the next idea, the next spark, the next moment of juvenile novelty.

The adult engineer, however, has, some time ago, discovered the joy in a broader landscape. They still enjoy ideation. And they also appreciate the deeper, richer pleasures (those that come from seeing an idea all the way through to a proper solution). They take satisfaction in shaping a concept into something real: optimising it so it is efficient to implement, verifying that it is safe when built, ensuring it meets every peripheral need that others down the chain rely on. They document it properly, not because they “have to,” but because this is part of creating something fully formed. They understand that professionalism, like adulthood, carries pleasures that are less obvious to the inexperienced, but far more substantial.

This reminds me of a quote from a man called John Edmondson. He was an advocate of antioxidants and physical challenges – at 47 years of age he managed 5,000 push-ups in 3hrs 18mins. He once said, “winning is boys; killing is for men.” By “killing” he meant killing the challenge in front of you – such as 5,000 push-up or the hill you plan to run up. It could also mean the engineering challenge in front of you. The child engineer will win by coming up with an idea. The adult engineer will kill the challenge – and implement a total solution.

Other contrasts between the child engineer and the adult engineerThe child engineer will complain loudly about tasks they dislike. They will avoid procedures because “they’re annoying,” or try to work around company standards simply because they’d rather not deal with them. The adult engineer sees these procedures differently. They recognise that standard process is what allows whole organisations to collaborate without chaos. They follow the procedure because doing so supports others. And when they know the procedure is flawed, they challenge it properly, lobby for improvement, and strengthen the system for everyone.

A child engineer has a narrow view of what engineering is: they see themselves as someone who “works on the thing and invents things.” The adult engineer sees engineering as a profession. They think about framing problems correctly, applying first principles, checking assumptions, engaging the right stakeholders, and understanding how their decision today affects manufacturing, construction, quality, service, regulations and safety tomorrow. They experience engineering in its full, interconnected richness—and they enjoy that broader horizon. It is the difference between juvenile pleasures and adult pleasures: both are real, but only one offers lasting depth.

And then there is how they engage others. The child engineer expects others to package information for them in an easy-to-digest way. They share their own information however they like and assume everyone else will interpret it correctly. The adult engineer takes the time to understand what other teams need, adjusts their communication accordingly, and gives people what they require to progress. They also push back when others try to offload their responsibilities onto them—not out of defiance, but because professionalism is reciprocal.

This notion of the adult engineer is universal. These are the engineers who thrive in global environments, where assumptions differ, cultures vary, and clarity, discipline, and respect for process matter even more. The comparative mythologist, Joseph Campbell, spent his life studying patterns that show up everywhere in human experience: archetypal behaviours that transcend local context. The transition from childlike enthusiasm to adult responsibility is one of them – it happens everywhere. And it is exactly this adult mode of operating that allows an engineer to be effective anywhere in the world.

If you are an engineering managerThe distinctions in this article are an excellent reference for your team. Many engineers simply haven’t had someone frame the difference for them. They may not even realise how often they operate as child engineers. Not because of immaturity, but because no one has ever shown them the deeper pleasures of the full craft. Sharing this with them invites growth.

If you want to grow as an engineerTake a moment now to reflect on where you sit on this spectrum. Think through the last few weeks of your work. Did you lean toward the tasks you enjoy, or the tasks that were needed? Did you shape the entire engineering journey, or just the parts that felt good? Did you help the organisation function, or make it bend around you?

Also, consider your environment. Some managers prefer their engineers to remain childlike. This can be a result of culture as well – those that are more authoritarian. Children don’t push back, they don’t question weak processes, and they don’t challenge assumptions – making it easier for a manager to maintain authority. This can feel comfortable for a manager, but it limits you. If your environment rewards you for staying a child engineer rather than growing into an adult one, you may need to consider whether your development requires moving on.

There is far more pleasure in embracing engineering in its complete form. The breadth. The responsibility. The discipline. The craft. The influence. The impact.

So where do you sit on the spectrum?
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Do you know some child engineers?