Perfection

I'm an academic economist by day, which means that my job is to help students develop a working understanding of economics.  It turns out that economics is hard to learn for some--economists think in strange ways about problems, and we use graphical tools that are abstract and hard to learn.  Students, even the best students, rarely walk out of an econ course feeling as if they have mastered the material.  Students might be encouraged to learn that I've been studying economics for 25 years, and I don't feel as if I've mastered the material either.

But rather than being encouraged, some might feel that because they're learning their economics from less than a master, they are being cheated out of what they paid for.  I might be tempted to feel guilty about that.  But at night, I hang up my economist hat and put on a woodworking hat.  I love working with wood, reading about working with wood, and thinking about wood. There are a few woodworking giants whose names pop up everyhere woodworkers gather--among them are Roy Underhill, James Krenov, and Sam Maloof.

Roy Underhill hosts the longest-running woodworking show on television, "The Woodwright's Shop."  He was for many years the housewright in Colonial Williamsburg, works only with hand tools, and is known by his devotees as "St. Roy," because he's cut himself so many times on the air (his shows are always shot in one continuous take) that it's a miracle he's alive.  He is charming and charismatic and perhaps the most beloved soul in woodworking.

James Krenov, recently deceased, made his name by crafting high-end cabinetry.  Later, he opened the most famous woodworking school in America, where he perfected a type of handmade wooden plane that came to be known worldwide as a Krenov-style plane.

Sam Maloof made chairs--chairs unlike any that had ever been seen before, with traditional bones and natural and contemporary lines.  His work has spawned a slew of imitators who produce knockoffs that are referred to only as "Maloof-style chairs."

Here's why I mention these icons:  they are not perfect.  Roy Underhill's books are full of pictures of tables and boxes and chests that he's literally crafted out of trees--this is pretty amazing to me.  And yet, if you look at the pictures closely you'll often see torn and splintered wood, mis-cut pieces, and gappy joints.  James Krenov, crafter of some of the finest furniture in the world, chose as the cover of his "Cabinetmaker's Notebook" a photo of a jewelry box that clearly shows where he mis-marked his joints with a knife and had to strike a second line.  And Sam Maloof used *gasp* metal screws to hold his chairs together instead of more traditional wood-to-wood joinery.

Roy's boxes, James' cabinets, and Sam's chairs all do what they are supposed to, and all are probably far finer than I will ever produce.  Yet these three giants are not ashamed to display the errors and imperfections in their work. They know that, master craftsmen though they may be, they will never totally master the wood they use.

Students of economics, take heart.  You might not master economics, but that doesn't mean that you can't be good enough at it to produce a useful, and even beautiful, end product.