Craftsmanship is Not the Goal

In woodworking, technical skill/quality of execution is a core pillar in this craft. There is an endless amount of content that is geared toward the “how” in woodworking. How to cut a joint, how to do a finish, how to sharpen a blade, how to do this, how to do that. While the “how” is important in the actual making of work, it has subtly influenced the way practicing woodworkers perceive the work they do. The practice of woodworking often becomes an expression of technical skill, rather than the creation of an object. The enjoyment of a process becomes more important than the piece itself. The performance of a technique becomes more important than the function the piece plays. Though working this way may have its perks, it can handicap a maker’s work over time because the work is limited by the way the maker is trained to think, and subsequently, the way to work.

I recently read an article by Brian Boggs called “Technical Fluency Is Freedom”. In Brian’s experience as a master craftsman of 40+ years, he discusses a common issue that he has seen: makers establishing boundaries for their work based on what they feel confident enough to execute, and not by what they necessarily want to make. The following paragraph from his article beautifully poses a core idea:

“Because the more fluent you become technically, the less trapped you are stylistically. I think this is one of the reasons why so many woodworkers struggle to move beyond a single aesthetic vocabulary. It is not necessarily a lack of creativity. Often it is a lack of trust. Trust in their eye. Trust in their process. Trust in their ability to execute an idea cleanly enough to pursue it with confidence. Good process creates freedom. When your tools are predictable, when your joinery is reliable. When your understanding of structure is sound, the mind begins to open creatively because it is no longer consumed by survival.” - Brian Boggs

In a recent article, I wrote that “I’m reaching a rhythm where the act of making is as natural as breathing or walking”. Brian’s words made me realize that good process has set the foundation for the reality that I am beginning to experience. As I continue to cultivate my technical fluency, I am reaching a flow-state of creation. Through the evolution of my sense of design and even the “what” of what I make, I’m beginning to think about craftsmanship as a means to an end. The techniques I use to create things are just “another tool in my toolbox” to create the object. The techniques themselves are not the point of this craft. Technical mastery is a vehicle, not the end-all-be-all goal. I’ve begun approaching my making as object centric. That is, a way that prioritizes the creation of a new design and not the confinement to a particular set of techniques. I’d go as far as to claim that technical excellence is not achieved by practicing the techniques themselves; rather, it is cultivated through developing an understanding of systems, processes, material, and tools that allows one to improvise, riff, and play with ease. It’s the difference between memorizing Mozart and composing jazz on the spot. Both have their place, but one demands applied understanding to create new work as opposed to doing what’s always or already been done.

To better under technical excellence, I’ve created a simple equation that defines the components of the quality of execution and their respective relationships.

Quality of Execution = Effectiveness of Process x Repeatability

In simple words, does your series of steps get you to the result you’re looking for? If so, can you do it again and again, and get the same results every time? Let’s expand this equation more. Note that all terms in this equation will be in the form of a percentage, or a value between 0 to 1.

Effectiveness of Process = Mastery of Order of Operations x Mastery of Tool Selection/Set Up/Calibration x Understanding of Material

Order of operations quickly becomes difficult as the complexity of a project grows. Introduce angled joinery, compound curvature, sculpture, and dependent parts and a thorough mastery of order of operations will play a key role in success. It also directly determines how time efficient your build will be and how practical it will be to execute. Next comes the mastery of the tool — notice how I did not include “tool use” as part of the effectiveness of the process. Which tools you select, how well they are calibrated, and how well you’ve set up the tool for the particular task will determine how effective it is; your ability in using the tool goes into repeatability. No matter if using hand tool or machine, the actual preparation matters a lot. Understanding of material also factors into the effectiveness of process. Your choices in tools and treatment will vary depending upon your understanding of wood movement, grain orientation, and species.

Repeatability = Ability ÷ Process Risk

How repeatable a process can be is directly based on your actual ability to execute something with your physical body, whether it is a hand tool or a machine, and how susceptible the process is to human error. I’d go a step further to define ability as Ability = Natural Talent + Lived Practice. The higher the value from this equation, the more repeatable the process is. Process risk represents the percentage of a workflow that depends heavily on human execution and is therefore susceptible to error. For instance, running a piece through a digital thickness planer has almost zero human risk to it. Simply press the right buttons to the number you need, and feed the piece through the machine. A classic high risk process would be hand-cut dovetails straight off the saw. Yet, process risk is something that can become unexpectedly sneaky and rear its head when small errors compound overtime. Take an example of cutting mortises with a festool domino or multi router. Lining up the machine by eye based on pencil lines may seem accurate enough, but for true precision in the thousandths, it could be a risky move. A less risky approach for the same operation would be to use physical hard-stops in tandem with visual alignment for the most precise results. Note that I am not saying that visual alignment cannot be done precisely, because it can. However, that is directly dependent on the ability of the user.

The expanded equation becomes:

Quality of Execution = (Mastery of Order of Operations × Mastery of Tool Selection/Setup/Calibration × Understanding of Material × Ability) ÷ Process Risk

The equation implies that creating processes that minimize process risk fosters repeatability, but a greater developed ability of the craftsman may be able to compensate for more process risk. Additionally, note that ability, which directly relates to physical making, actually holds some of the lowest weight on its own within this formula. In my personal experience, intentional development of order of operations, material understanding, and tool selection/setup/calibration had a higher impact on quality of execution than only focusing on executing physical skills. Perhaps this has been one of my greatest learnings in the journey of developing technical competency: learning how to think is far more powerful than just learning how to do. After all, the “how to do” is only produced as a result of someone’s thinking. The question is whether that someone is you or another.

Though natural talent has helped me to quickly become proficient in my woodworking journey, my true advances in my craftsmanship have come from thousands of hours of refining the brainwork behind the physical work. This looks like constant research, ideation, and direct application. So far, I’ve only built things that I’ve designed myself without following plans. It’s forced me to actually understand what is happening in each step I’ve determined and to learn quickly when I’m doing something that doesn’t work. An intimate understanding of the machines and hand tools I use, along with a fully developed workflow before I start a project has ensures that I can execute a project at the highest level before material meets tools. Finally, I’ve put conscious effort into practicing different techniques to reach the same goal. I can cut perfect dovetails by hand, and I can also cut perfect dovetails with precision bandsaw jigs that I’ve made with the aid of a laser cutter. Becoming too dependent on one way of doing things will lock a maker into a singular way of thinking. It is one thing to mentally “know” multiple ways to do a thing, and it’s another to actually practice that. By taking different roads to get to the same destination, I can rapidly improve my understanding of my tools and my abilities which directly translates into solving harder problems down the road.

The quality of execution is a prerequisite to the work; if I’m investing my energy into a piece, I’ll do it right. However, my pieces are not made to demonstrate technical mastery nor to follow the peculiarities of different craft lineages. As a self-taught woodworker, I’m not loyal to any lineage or any school of thought. I’m only dedicated to the piece I am going to create. The techniques I choose to use are the ones that will yield me the best results for a particular situation. Sometimes that involves doing things by hand. Other times that involves doing things with mostly machines. As my work becomes more complex, I’m forced to think outside the box and modify traditional techniques or use unconventional tools like laser cutters. True skill in craft manifests in thinking, not only in doing. Greater thinking leads to a better development of systems and processes, allowing a maker to transcend singular ways of doing things and to open their minds to new possibilities. With open minds, technical fluency not only becomes possible, but inevitable. With confidence in the ability to execute comes the ability for the maker to dream and create beyond what they’ve only seen before.