Can management lessons be learnt from repairing everyday nondescript items. I think so. The philosophy entrenched in repairing things are not so different from managing processes or driving toward solution. Read why.
My granddad, as well as my father were tinkerers so one could say I inherited the tinkering gene. We always spent the weekends repairing or mending loose items around the house. Toaster, Kettles, Toy Trains, Boats, Cars as well as a raft of odd assortments. My Achilles heel has so far been a mechanical clock whose hairspring I cannot adequately fix. The most memorable and poignant item I ever repaired was a builders tape measure. The one that has a flexible steel type measuring ribbon that recoils into its housing. The retract mechanism broke and the tape once pulled would not rewind. My father and I attempted to fix this while he was alive, but we never succeeded and were confounded by this mechanism. Then one afternoon I came across this now stowed junked item and decided to have a crack at it in tribute to my late dad.
This item costs about 50 bucks. Cheap by any measure to replace but in tinkering and dare I say life, the joy lies not in the destination, but rather the journey. Many of my detractors would cite this replacement cost and the time it would take and the opportunity cost at risk and…. and….. and….
But for me, it isn’t about replacing a broken item. That’s the easy exit to satisfaction. The value that a broken item has is an endless potential to learn. Once opened and inspected with a keener eye an observer might note the design specifications, what materials were used and learn why that material was chosen. You might see the manufacturing processes, cast marks, perhaps where corners were cut, liberties taken and departures between manufacturing, design and assembly. You get a rich picture of the story emanating from its inception. And by attempting to fix it you get to learn so much that can be applied elsewhere.
For instance I learnt that this particular item had encountered an attempt to be repaired before. There was an unusual out-of-place pin that held the clasp to the winding spring. This pin had become unseated and therefore could not retract the tape. I also learnt that the tape was constructed out of high-tensile steel and that you cannot leave sharp cut marks as it will tear. In order to join the tape to the winder, you would need to make oblique V-shaped grooves on either side of the tapes sides. In order to wind it up properly you would have to set the tension on the spring at its highest when the tape was fully unwound and thus as you pull on the tape you add retraction force against the tape. When released the tape would wind itself back.
It took me 3 days to fix this tape. During that time, partly because of sentimentality and partly because of conviction, I paid very close attention to my minds racing thoughts. During each of the following phases my mind was working out:
- How will I open this item, what tools will I need, how will I accomplish this goal?
- What do I see, what seems to be broken, what is the root cause?
- Can I replicate the problem whilst monitoring the individual failing parts?
- Once the problem is isolated, how can I fix this? Should I follow the manufacturer’s designs or try another way? What options are available?
- What tools or items will I need to repair this? Where will I find these?
- How robust will the proposed solution be? Can it withstand longevity and rigorous daily use?
- How can I implement the solution? How do I monitor the solution working? What are potential pitfalls in the solution?
- How do I put this item back to use?
During the course of the repair I repeatedly found myself at a juncture point telling myself to give up and throw the item in the garbage bin. Tacitly it implied that I am not capable of completing this task and that I’ve reached the envelope my mind or exhausted all my talent. It re-iterated that defeat can be survived and that the item meant nothing anyway.
But that is not who I am or what I can do. I am man. Failure is just disguised learnings. I will persevere not for sakes sake, but because I deeply want to. Because I want to conquer those demons saying that I can’t or am incapable of. I stand here facing the greatest obstacle of them all, myself. And my decisions here and now craft the fabric of who I will be tomorrow. I could give up and eke out a cowards life or I can be bold and forge forward. It may possibly have made no difference to me had I given up. But by continued resilient actions I remember my victory (as small as it may be), and that one tiny win has led to this page and a memory that I will forever cherish. All that might have been lost to the ether had I followed the wisdom of my detractors.