Over many years of working in management of development engineers, I witnessed
the process of people developing into fine engineers with skills in design and
development. I also witnessed the opposite. People with the skills
and knowledge to become fine engineers but who never made it past mediocrity.
The difference seems to me to be in the willingness to take risks and the
ability to manage them. It also seems to me that there must be a reason
that some people will take the risks and others will not. I think that we
can find that reason in an understanding of what is and is not acceptable to an
individual.
I often hear people at our woodworking Club say something like: “I
wouldn't even try doing something like that.” Or: “That sort of
thing is over my head.” These, to me, are distressing enough thoughts to
hear from my peers in the Club; but I suspect that there are more prevalent
situations of which we do not hear. One is for a member to begin something, and
because he or she does not immediately accede to expectations, to just give it
up. The second is for a member to just not try to do something because of
a feeling of inadequacy on his/her part. I think that a great deal of
talent is neglected, or fails to be developed, because people quit a project or
skill simply for not meeting overly ambitious standards at the outset of a new
experience. I have some thoughts on this issue to share with you.
This is a personal philosophy, but I think it applies in this
situation.
Our club is made up primarily of amateurs. Mostly, we do what we do for
our own enjoyment – meaning to have fun. In this regard, we get to set
our own standards. While anyone who wants to can criticize our work, no
one can tell us how we do it or what it must be when complete. We do
that. What many woodworkers do not do is to actively set realistic standards
for themselves or their projects. In failing to do so, they have no way
to know when they are done or whether they have succeeded. There is
a story of an interviewer, noting that an elderly worker on the finishing line
in a North Carolina furniture shop continued working away after everyone else
had left the piece, asking: “How do you know when you're finished?” The
old gentleman responded: “When they take it away.” I don’t know if this
story is true or accurate, but it does make a point. There is seldom someone to take it away in our case.
It is up to us to know when we are done and whether we’ve succeeded.
Suppose you want to make a bookcase. What are the primary purpose and
implied requirements for the bookcase? My first answer would be “To hold
books and to not fall apart.” There may be other requirements too.
For example: To match the other furniture in the room and, thus, to be
made from a certain kind of wood and be finished in a certain way. If my
bookcase is targeted to hold books and not fall apart in the unfinished attic
of my house and your bookcase is targeted to be in the entryway of the city
library, they may, and probably will, have different requirements. In
fact, appearance may be your primary concern while being of no concern at all
for me. My bookcase could be an excellent piece because it meets all of my
requirements and not be at all suitable for your needs. Is it a failure
or a success?
I am not trying to make a case for shoddy workmanship either. Nor am I
interested in something that is just good enough for the job. I expect my
bookcase to be designed and crafted well. After all, my specifications
were that I wanted it to hold books, so the design had to take into
consideration the physical aspects of the books, for example: weight and
dimensions. It also had to take into account the physical properties of the
materials and the joinery details used in the construction so that they met the
second requirement, that it not fall apart. Then I needed to follow
through with good craftsmanship to ensure that I followed the design, that
joints were properly made, and that a proper finish was applied to protect the
piece from the rigors of its use. We could go on, but we’ve made the
point. If my bookcase holds the books and does not fall apart, then I
have an excellent piece because it meets all of my requirements.
Your bookcase must meet all the same requirements as mine but also must meet
the additional appearance requirements that you must address. If you take
the bookcase targeted for my attic, put it in the public library entryway, and
stack it full of books, you will not have an excellent bookcase for that
application. It will not meet the requirements. Is it a total
failure? Is it good enough? We’ll have to leave that to the
judgment of the patrons. Some may feel it is good enough, but others may
think it’s a mess. It is doubtful though that anyone will think it is an
excellent bookcase for that application.
I once attended a seminar in which a renowned finisher was telling how he
finished furniture. He said, when using clear film finishes, he almost
never sanded bare wood past 180 grit and usually stopped at 150 grit. One
of the attendees said he always sanded to 320 because he always wanted to have
a perfect finish. The presenter had probably heard this before because he
did not miss a beat in replying: “Why?” The answer was just as
quick: “I want it to be perfect.” The presenter then asked: “Can you see
or feel the difference once the finish is on?” The presenter went on to
explain why the coarser sanding job was better than the finer one. His
answer was that by stopping at 180 he saved the time and sandpaper required to
go on to 320. That to him was value. Then when he applied his clear
film finish it filled in the coarser scratch marks left by the 180 grit paper
and the leveling effect of the film finish completely obscured the
scratches. The result was a level finish through which one could not see
or feel the 180 grit scratch pattern. His was an excellent result.
The attendee’s attempt to attain perfection prevented him from achieving the
excellence achieved by the presenter. Don't take this to imply that there
is no place for finer grit sandpapers. In this case, 180 was the right
place to stop for an excellent result. In other cases, 2500 grit may be
the answer.
You could argue that they had different definitions of quality -- defined as
the degree of excellence. Embodied in the presenter's definition is a profit
motive, hence the additional sanding time diminished his objective. The
attendee may have had little concern for the profit aspect or was just unaware
that stopping at the coarser grit produced the same result. The latter
case being the more likely.
Since we've bantered about the terms, let's look at definitions for Perfect and
Excellent from the American Heritage Dictionary.
Perfect -- 1. Lacking nothing essential to the whole; complete of its nature
or kind. 2. In a state of undiminished or highest excellence; without
defect; flawless . . .
Excellent -- 1. Being of the highest or finest quality; exceptionally good;
superb; 2. Surpassing; superior . . .
On the basis of the published definitions of Perfect and Excellent one would
have to agree that perfect is of higher quality than mere excellent since the
definition of perfect, "undiminished or highest excellence", places
it on a continuum at the high end of excellent; thus implying lower levels of
excellence. I don't think this is a small point in the woodworker's
domain. One could look narrowly at the "without defect" embodied in
the definition of Perfect and say that there is no way of reaching a perfect
goal with wood since it is basically an unstable material, but to do so would
neglect the definition of a defect.
Look at the definition of a defect from the same dictionary.
Defect -- 1. The lack of something necessary or desirable; deficiency.
2. An imperfection; a failing; a fault. . . .
Here we go again. This definition places 'a defect' on the same continuum
as excellence and perfection in that "An imperfection" is one
definition. Let's consider a few more terms before bringing this
together. What about the word 'adequate'. The definition:
Adequate -- 1. Able to satisfy a requirement; suitable. 2. Barely
satisfactory or sufficient.
By this definition, my bookcase is at least adequate. It meets the
requirements set out to define success. I will still argue that my bookcase is excellent because it
meets all requirements. Assuming
you succeed in meeting the objectives of your bookcase, yours would be
somewhere on the continuum, relative to mine, maybe above merely adequate --
maybe even "superior".
Another story comes to mind. A close relative of mine, being retired and
with some time on his hands, was invited by his son to come help him with a
building project. The son was a building contractor in south Florida.
The buildings were to be constructed to south Florida building standards
which required certain means of connecting structural members to keep them from
blowing away in hurricanes. That aspect could not be overlooked.
The father is a fine furniture builder and had built a timber frame home.
Both of these require uncompromised joinery. The joinery strength
of the Florida dwelling was provided by metal connecting plates, straps,
screws, and bolts. After a few days on the job the son came to the father
and pointed out that his perfectly matched joints were not required.
Speed of assembly was required of him as a carpenter. The joint, no
matter how perfectly made, still had to have the additional mechanical means.
The result was that the father, unable to accept what to him was shoddy
workmanship, came back to Tennessee and continued building fine furniture, and
the son hired a laborer and taught him how to do an adequate job of joinery –
for building houses in Florida.
|
Failure |
Adequacy |
Excellence |
Perfection |
Let's assume that all aspects of woodworking go into the quality of a piece.
Include design and workmanship. Then it can be argued that my
bookcase is excellent on the grounds that it meets all requirements and is of
superior workmanship. It holds books and doesn't fall apart because I
took into account the size and weight of the books in my design and used good
joinery techniques in both design and workmanship. If on the other hand,
I had merely nailed some boards together and the weight of the books caused the
thing to fall apart, I would not have even met requirements. If on the other
hand the bookcase headed for the library were to have a sound design, good
joinery, but a marginal finish with runs and sags diminishing its appearance,
then it would likely fall in the adequate range -- barely meeting requirements.
It holds books, but could hardly fall into a superior quality zone.
|
Meets all requirements |
Exceeds all Requirements |
Superior Design and Construction |
Now let's talk about excellence based on our own definitions and a quality
continuum. We would hardly accept as excellent a piece that did not meet
the requirements that we set out to achieve, nor would we say that a piece that
is superior in all respects, but isn't perfect by dictionary definitions, isn't
excellent. Therefore, there exists on the quality continuum a zone of
comparative excellence ranging on the low end above that which is merely
adequate and maybe just below that which is actually perfect in every regard.
This is the range in which sane woodworkers, and I suggest all sane people, operate. We must
acknowledge that to muddle about in the barely adequate range is to entertain
disaster. One slip could put us into the failure range. Likewise,
to insist on perfection in every regard is to practically assure failure in
that we may never finish anything. Remember few of us have someone to
say: "That's now done!" and to take it away.
Okay!
What’s the message on Excellence?
Here it is! As woodworkers,
we need to accept that the media in which we work isn’t perfect. We’re not perfect either. Our tools aren’t perfect. In fact, there’s not much in
woodworking (or life for that matter) that is perfect. On the other hand, there’s not much use
in making something that doesn’t do what we intended in the first place. So we need to set standards we can
reach with our own level of woodworking competence and work to them.
If we strive for Excellence as we’ve defined it here, as
we gain experience with each operation our quality will most likely improve. Pieces we make at the beginning may
just meet requirements, but our pieces will exceed requirements as we
progress. Ultimately we may do
work of superior quality. On the
other hand, if we fail to set standards and just accept adequate work, we may
not (and probably will not) ever progress above that level -- and may indeed
fail. In addition, if we cannot
accept anything less than perfect we are very likely to fail by not producing
anything at all.
I hope I have made the case for operating in the
Excellence range since striving either for mere Adequacy or for absolute Perfection
will put you at high risk for Failure.
Just remember, it’s your work.
You get to set the standards.