One thing I have always admired is craftsmanship, the expertise developed only through months or years of performing a task. Whether it is basket-weaving, making a samurai sword, or building a one-off automobile; I can appreciate the skill required whether or not I can do it myself.
So I have this theory that automation in general has an inverse relationship with craftsmanship. That is, the more technology/automation progresses, the less craftsmanship exists. Now nobody (ok, just a select few) needs to actually understand the intricacies of anything, “I just push button A on the machine and out comes the product!”
This theory was bolstered last night night when I made a trip to Lowe’s to get copies of a key made. I sauntered up to the counter and presented the worker what I thought was a rather ordinary key, and asked for two copies to be made. I watched with dismay as he leafed through the plethora of keys, clearly not having a good idea of where to start. Finally, after clearly making no progress, he started using a rotating implement with key holes in it to help. Trying to insert the key in hole after hole, this tool’s purpose is to magically reveal the right blank to use.
After about 20 attempts, BINGO! Blank #89 was the command from the plastic oracle. I watch as he compares the blank to the original, and then inserts it into the grinding machine and pushes button A. About a minute later, the new key is ready. He compares it and decides it is of insufficient quality and throws it in the trash. I thought “Wow, this guy might actually know a little something about the art of making keys.” He gets another #89 blank and proceeds to make another key. After comparing the second key, he states that it will not work. He shows me the original and the new key, and I see the problem. The #89 blank was a full 1/4″ shorter than the original! Two blanks wasted that clearly had no chance of working…
Dismayed, he proclaimed that he couldn’t help me. I pressed him to continue, as the key was not some skeleton key to a medieval castle, just a normal key. He then pulled a book from under the counter and found what appeared to be a great match, blank #95. He got a blank and compared it to the original, and his discerning eye decided it was a good match. At least I could tell the length was a perfect match! He ground (or the machine did, I should say) me two keys and I was on my way.
Fast forward to the next morning, when I have the opportunity to try the new key for the first time. I try inserting the new key and it won’t even START to go in. I then compare it to the original and can easily see that the blank chosen was not even close to the right one. The length and basic grooves are the same, but the beveled surfaces are opposite!
See, I would much rather go in and watch a crotchety old man take out a carefully selected blank, and hand-file me a key that would work without question. It might take 30 minutes or an hour, but I could leave knowing that the key would work without question. Also, during that time I would actually come to appreciate the skill it takes to make a key. The guy who helped me at Lowe’s knew probably less than I about the art of key-making, all he knew is what equipment to use to guide his decision making. No craftsmanship…
