The Allure of Perfectability

Since we live in the woods, I own three chainsaws--small medium and large, basically. The large one is an old (1980's vintage) Stihl 056 that I've scrounged parts for on e-bay and fixed up. It's a very impressive machine to use. It's like holding a running motorcycle engine in your hands. When it's sitting on the ground idling, it hops around as the piston pops.

In a lot of ways chainsaws remind me of road bicycles. There's a sort of severe, warrior monk feel to them. They were engineered over more than 100 years of history to be simple and durable and survive and perform in a wide range of conditions and to withstand severe abuse. Frivolous and stupid or merely inefficient design elements were weeded out by demanding users and harsh conditions. (They're both good man-made examples of how nature stores information.)

The contrast between a tool or device that's engineered that way versus a planned obsolescence, value engineered consumer product is palpable. Unfortunately, almost anything you get your hands on today to use is "value engineered" pre-garbage mainly because the corporations who make them aren't on the path of perfecting their craft, but are driven by finance rather than virtue, or natural necessities.

It's actually pretty odd that sole pursuit of profit and money tokens is even acceptable or admirable rather than derided and scorned.