Our Gemara on Amud Beis tells us an interesting story about Rabbi Yehuda’s reaction to Rabbi Meir’s students:
The Sages taught: After the death of Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda said to his students: Do not let the students of Rabbi Meir enter here into our house of study, because they are vexatious [kanteranim]. And they do not come to study Torah, but rather they come to overwhelm me with halakhos.
Sumakhos, a student of Rabbi Meir, pushed and entered anyway. He said to them: This is what Rabbi Meir taught me: With regard to a priest who betroths a woman with his portion of the offerings, whether he did so with offerings of the most sacred order or whether he used offerings of lesser sanctity, he has not betrothed her.
What was Rabbi Yehuda’s objections about? The simple explanation is that Rabbi Meir’s students, like their master, were analytic and pilpulistic to an extent that Rabbi Yehuda felt it would interfere in his students’ basic comprehension and study. After all, here is what we are taught about Rabbi Meir’s learning style (Eiruvin 13b):
[Rabbi Aḥa bar Ḥanina said:] It is revealed and known before the One Who spoke and the world came into being that in the generation of Rabbi Meir there was no one of the Sages who is his equal. Why then didn’t the Sages establish the halakha in accordance with his opinion? It is because his colleagues were unable to ascertain the profundity of his opinion. He was so brilliant that he could present a cogent argument for any position, even if it was not consistent with the prevalent halakha.
And here is what we learn about his talmid, Sumakhos, who ended up pushing his way into Rabbi Yehuda’s Shiur:
[The Gemara stated that Rabbi Abbahu said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said:] Rabbi Meir had a disciple, and his name was Sumakhus, who would state with regard to each and every matter of ritual impurity forty-eight reasons in support of the ruling of impurity, and with regard to each and every matter of ritual purity forty-eight reasons in support of the ruling of purity.
This represents the two styles of scholarship that have always been in tension throughout Jewish history: Sinai versus Oker Harim, deep analysis versus broad encyclopedic knowledge, and metaphorically expressed as either a Mount Sinai who has all the information or one who uproots mountains through question and debate. While theoretically a person could be both, given human nature, it’s just not possible to focus and create excellence in both areas at the same time. This debate goes back as early as Tannaim and Amoraim, as described in Horiyos 14a:
[Rabbi Yoḥanan said:] Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel and the Rabbis disagreed with regard to this matter. One said: Sinai, i.e., one who is extremely knowledgeable, is preferable; and one said: One who uproots mountains, i.e., one who is extremely analytical is preferable.
Would this equation change in modern times, where we have access to material in writing and digital form that is even searchable? Perhaps a Sinai is much more valued when there was a real risk of losing the information, or not having easy access?
Rav Shlomo Kluger (Hagahos Maharshak, Peri Megadim OC 136) states that indeed in “our times,” when printed material is readily accessible, the ability in pilpul is valued over bekiyus. (If so, kal v’chomer in the digital age!)
Personally, I am not so quick to assume that accessibility is the key value of being a Sinai. Having all the teachings in one’s memory, especially in their syntax, can cause many subtle positive influences. The morals and modes of thought are more internalized when they reside in accessible memory. Within the text of Torah teachings are also cultural and psychological guides that operate subliminally on a personality.
Despite the fact that there have been occasions of passionate dispute over the years amongst various schools of thought as to which is ultimately superior, we do see a lovely Gemara (Eiruvin 67a), where each type of learner has great respect for the other:
The Gemara relates that when Rav Ḥisda and Rav Sheshes would meet each other, Rav Ḥisda’s lips would tremble from the teachings of Rav Sheshes. Rav Sheshes’ fluency and expertise were such that Rav Ḥisda would be filled with awe in his presence. For his part, Rav Sheshes’ entire body would shake from Rav Ḥisda’s sharpness, i.e., from his brilliant, analytical mind.
The above source suggests that it is less a matter of philosophy and more of a matter of preference. After all, if Rav Sheshes held regard for Rav Chisda’s pilpul, why did he not engage in that method of halachik study? And vice versa, if Rav Chisda had such respect for Rav Sheshes’ bekiyus, why didn’t he change his method and study more broadly? It must be, to some extent, personality and skill sets play a part in the choice, and not only philosophy. After all, the best study comes from engaging in what naturally motivates and interests a person , as stated in Avoda Zara (19a):
Rava says, in accordance with the statement of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: A person should always learn Torah from a place in the Torah that his heart desires, as it is stated: “But his delight is in the Torah of the Lord.
Translations Courtesy of Sefaria, except when, sometimes, I disagree with the translation 
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