Paradox of the generalist
Classic management advice is to build a republic: each team member specializes in what they're good at. It just makes sense.
You nurture existing talents in attempt to ensure personal growth; simultaneously, you fill niches that need filling, constructively combine strengths, and orchestrate sufficient overlap in order to wind up with a functioning, durable, kick-ass machine of a team. A place for everyone, everyone in their place, and badassery ensues! (So the old saying goes...)
But what if, instead, you could simultaneously fork off N teams — one for every team member — and make that team member simultaneously responsible for everything? What would happen to the personal knowledge, growth rate, and impact of each member?
Let's take it one step farther: imagine you're that team member. All of a sudden it sounds terrifying, right? If you don't know it, nobody does. If you don't do it, nobody will. If you don't research it, you'll have no idea what it's about. If you don't network, no contacts are made. If you don't ship it, you know it will never change the firm/industry/world.
So, you think like you've been trained to think: you disambiguate the possible results. What could happen? Maybe you'd crumble under the pressure. Maybe you wouldn't be able to find your calling because you're glossing over the details that make you an artisan. Maybe you'd look like a fool. Maybe you would ship totally uninteresting crap that's all been done before.
But, then again, maybe you would grow like you've never grown before, learn things that you never had the rational imperative to learn, talk to interesting people you would have never talked to, ship a product that moves an industry, and blow the fucking lid off of a whole can of worms.
And so we arrive at one tautological cliché that I actually agree with: you never know until you try. And, if you choose wisely, you'll probably have a damn good time doing it.
At the least, by definition, you'll learn something you couldn't have learned by specializing.