Craftsmanship
My wife and I have been involved in a construction project for what seems like forever, but in reality, is only about eight months. As it nears completion, but is never quite ready for move in, I am reminded of the statement attributed to French Premier Clemenceau about Brazil: “the country of the future and always to remain so.”
I have appreciated the fine craftsmanship of some workers, and endured the less than stellar performance of others—only out of square by three inches—close enough. Like a little kid imitating his father, I have started some projects of my own, thankfully, outside, so if they collapse, no one is likely to get hurt. My brickwork doesn’t know a straight line, and only three inches out of square, for me, is the equivalent of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.
So what makes a fine craftsman, or craftsperson to be politically correct? Certainly one ingredient is training. Under the guild system that flourished in Europe in the middle ages, workers learned a trade by apprenticing with a master, under circumstances that sometimes amounted to servitude, albeit voluntary. That is how one learned the stonecraft for building a cathedral or lost wax bronze casting, or forging steel gates.
Technical education in our schools has suffered great neglect in recent years and we are paying the price with the lack of skilled technicians in those trades that build with their hands. Wood and metal shop, once a staple of secondary education, have all but disappeared from our high schools. Not everyone can or wants to be a scholar. We need to reinvigorate what is euphemistically called career education—not just in building and automotive trades, but in fashion, culinary arts, the healing trades such as physical therapy and massage, and art.
Last week Linn Benton Community College announced a new training center for technical advances in the auto industry—a welcome addition to its automotive and diesel programs. The proposal for a 35,000 square foot facility would be a joint venture with Snap-on Tools and the city of Lebanon and would teach the newest technologies such as hydrogen and electrical propulsion. Such a program is precisely the kind of public-private partnership that should happen if we, in this state and this country, are to get our creative and innovative chops back.
And that brings me to the second ingredient of craftsmanship, and that is creativity. To be creative, you have to care. You have to want to produce an object that is not only useful, but is carefully made and beautiful as well. You build to last, not just to sell. And perhaps most important: it is about the product, not about its creator. That is why so many of the great works of the middle ages are not signed at all—the object is what is important, not who made it.
Back to my projects, as woeful as they are. One thing I am really good at is sweeping. I had a lot of practice growing up since we had a big terrace under a malevolent tree that insisted on shedding during all seasons. My father was a sweeping fanatic and nobody escaped. The youngest associate in his law firm was expected to sweep the sidewalk in front of the office every morning. Some didn’t take to it too well. They didn’t last long.
About John Frohnmayer
John Frohnmayer is an author, lawyer, and ethicist. He has served on the board of Oregon Humanities since 2007.
29 September 2009 | Posted by John Frohnmayer in New Ideas
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