Author: Nathan Zeldes

http://www.nzeldes.com

The degradation of the clothespin

The humble clothespin is a ubiquitous item that has been with us for generations; and it is simple enough that you’d think it’s reached the point if utmost reliability. And yet, it seems that it is in fact very unreliable: clothespins break, they fall apart, they need constant replenishing… but I seemed to remember that long ago, when the world was young (well, at least when I was), this wasn’t the case.

The clothespins we have these days are usually made of plastic, and are all variations on the “two prongs, a fulcrum and a coil spring” design invented in 1887 (thus says Wikipedia). But the plastic used today (unlike the wood of my childhood) is deformable and breakable. Here are some I picked from our clotheslines:

Plastic clothespins

Imagine my delight when I found in some shop a set of wooden clothespins hailing (like everything else these days) from China! I bought them right away, and we put them to use — only to discover that they don’t break but they do snap apart. We use these alongside the plastic ones, since both types are equally bad.

21st century wooden clothespin

And then I serendipitously found a wooden clothespin that I’ve had in one of my drawers of old technology and everyday items (yes, I collect those too). This one goes back at least 50 years. I hurried to compare it to its modern counterpart.

Here you see the two items, the shorter being the older one.

Wooden clothespins from the mid-20th and 21st centuries

And here is what I found in the comparison:

  • The old clothespin has a thicker metal wire in its spring, making for a stronger grip force. Indeed, you can feel the difference when pinching the tails against the spring (even at the same distance from the fulcrum).
  • The old pin has a shorter jaw, making for better leverage of the (already stronger) spring’s force.
  • The old pin has a more precise and more elaborate pattern (in side view), giving a better grip for the spring’s coil and for the clothesline.
  • in the old pin the spring ends sit tight in a fitted semicircular groove and cover the width of the wooden prong; in the new one the groove is square and too wide, and the metal is some 2/3 the width of the prong.
Wooden clothespins from the mid-20th and 21st centuries

The last point turns out to be the reason the Chinese clothespin falls apart so easily: it is very easy to twist the two prongs apart as in the photo below, since the loose wire ends don’t resist this action.

21st century wooden clothespin

Lastly, here is an alternative design from earlier in the 19th century: the one piece clothes peg (also called a Dolly peg). This one has no spring, can’t fall apart, and is sturdy enough to resist a lot of use. I found this one at a flea market long ago.

19th century dolly pin

So how do all these variants fare in their single task, gripping cloth onto a clothesline? I tested them by attaching a damp rag to a line and trying to pull it down forcibly. I found that all the new pins – be they plastic or wood – did not hold: the cloth would pull out from under them. The two older wooden ones, however, held fast. Since they cover the two designs — the dolly peg and the springed one — it is clearly not that the springed design is inferior; it’s all in the implementation, the choice of materials, dimensions, spring strength… the small details that always differentiate quality products from trashy ones.

So – here are 200 years of clothespins in historical order from left to right… and clearly, their durability and performance have only gone down over time. If there’s a lesson there, surely it’s a sad one…

Clothespins from the past two centuries

Form, function and confusion

See this water tap.

Water tap - closed

Now when you want to turn it on, what do you do? What I did, is grab the handle and try to turn it anti clockwise, around its vertical axis. And nothing happened, it refused to budge.

Here’s how you turn the water on with this tap:

Water tap - open

You see,  it has one of the modern mechanisms where you raise the handle, rather than rotate it.

Nothing wrong with that, but in this case the design sends a conflicting and confusing message, for two reasons: first, the handle definitely looks (when in the off position)  like it’s supposed to rotate; and second, the ornate brass look suggests the vintage design paradigm, from before the modern form came in.

Confusing!    🙁

 

Snuggle up!

We all buy LED light bulbs these days (remember the days of CFL and tungsten filament bulbs?). And we buy them in little cardboard boxes made from dead trees. You have skinny single-bulb boxes, and you have twice as wide two-packs. So imagine my surprise when I saw the in-between box at the left  in the photo:

No, this box doesn’t hold 1-1/2 bulbs. It holds the same pair as the fatter box. Here’s how:

And that is genius. By putting  the two lamps snuggled together in this way, G-Plus saved money for themselves, saved storage space for retailers and consumers, and of course saved some trees and cut transportation emissions in the process.

And it didn’t cost them a thing!

 

Let there be light!

Restaurant table lamp

Eating at a restaurant can be a romantic occasion, but restaurants seem to feel that justifies keeping a low lighting. Which is fine for romance but annoying when you need to peruse the menu.  However, this one restaurant in Milano solved the problem!

They had low enough lighting, but on each table they had this little battery-operated LED lamp. Designed to shine a powerful white light downward, these lamps did not light up the room, but they allowed the diners to light the table surface – or not, all at the click of the little button. Very nicely thought out!

The restaurant, incidentally, was excellent. If you find yourself in Milano, it was Bistrot Pesce D’Oro, at Viale Monte Grappa, 2. Recommended!

Go ahead, confuse us all!

Here are two boxes of vitamins I take, separated by a few months in production time, newer version on the right.

Quantum multivitamins

Same product, one change:

Quantum multivitamins

The original version is marked “Age 50+“, denoting the people it’s optimized for: those aged 50 and above (“+”).

The new version is marked “SLVR+“. After some thought I figured “SLVR” may stand for Silver, meaning people with gray hair. Of course this renders the “+” unnecessary and confusing.

Bottom line: some marketroid had a stupid idea to take a perfectly clear caption and make it confusing as hell.

Bad, bad marketroid!

 

Bad, bad UI design!

Here is a screenshot from my Lenovo ThinkPad computer. The computer was running a self-test using the incorporated Lenovo utility, and I tried to abort this test by exiting that utility.

And then I got this dialog box:

Dialog box of a Lenovo utility

Read it carefully:

If you continue, all the tasks … will be canceled. Are you sure?

And you have two buttons to choose from:

YES    [Which means Yes — I’m sure, do exit]

or

NO, EXIT    [Which means I’m not sure, do not exit].

Obviously the second button is intended to mean “Exit this dialog, not the utility” — but this is confusing as hell, since exiting the dialog and exiting the utility are opposite actions.

Would it kill them to use a simple “CANCEL” on the second button?

Washington Sabatini’s impressive calculator

Here is one impressive calculating device: Washington Sabatini’s reinforced concrete calculator.

Washingtron Savbatini's H 39 reinforced concrete slide rule

This complicated circular slide rule is one of the largest items in my collection. It comprises ten concentric aluminum rings covered with complicated scales and pointers. The rings are all movable except for the second largest; that one is fixed to the body of the device, as is the celluloid cursor overhanging the largest ring. The movable rings are rotated around the center of the device by use of the prominent crank handle that spans its radius.

For full details, and a worked out example of how to calculate the dimensions of a concrete beam under specified parameters, see this article on my History of Computing site.

Enjoy!

Creeping featurism: SLR cameras, yesterday and today

Page from Kowa SE camera manual

The photographic camera is one of the great inventions of the 19th century, and is quite a simple idea: take  a light sensitive surface, put a lens in front of it, add the ability to control exposure time and aperture, and you’re all set. And for more than a century, that’s what cameras were all about. But not anymore.

During my life I’ve owned maybe a dozen cameras. The first (discounting a plastic Kodak Brownie I had as a child) was a Kowa SE SLR (Single Lens Reflex) I had in my teens. The latest is this Canon EOS 800D I recently bought. Both Japanese; both relatively inexpensive entry-level SLRs. But there the difference ends.

Both cameras have a light sensitive surface (film in the first, CCD in the latter), a lens, and controllable exposure time and aperture.

However:

  • The Kowa allowed you manage this setup with 8 physical controls (including the film advance lever), and its instruction manual was 26 pages long.
  • The Canon provides 27 physical controls and 14 screenfuls of menus (most of them with sub-menus), and its manual is 486 pages long.
  • The instruction manual of the Kowa devotes one page to focusing, where it says things like:

Image is focused by turning the lens barrel helicoid and looking in the focusing screen. For more precise and easier focusing, a split-image is provided in the center of the focusing screen. The lens is focused accurately when the two halves of the split-image are aligned.

  • The instruction manual of the Canon devotes 24 pages to focusing, and says things like:

In [7:Auto AF pt sel.:Color Tracking] under [4: Custom Functions (C.Fn)], you can set whether to perform AF by tracking colors. If [1:Disable] is set, focus is achieved based only on AF information (p.393).

Now, let me be clear: I am no luddite, and I realize that the modern camera has many advantages. Many of them are nice-to-haves, but some are significant, like shooting video and the vibration-cancelling lens, both unthinkable back in the day. And I’m sure today’s lenses, being computer-designed, are much better in terms of reducing optical aberrations. When I got this new camera I was full of admiration for the triumph of innovation and miniaturization it represents.

And then I started using it, and I realized that this triumph involves such a huge degree of overkill that the user experience is severely impacted.

Consider:

  • Having countless options leads to the “embarras de choix”, the mental information overload from too many choices.
  • A camera is for taking photos. Many of the features of this Canon camera are actually post-processing best left for Photoshop, where they can be done in the comfort of a large screen UI optimized for the task.
  • Most features in this camera will never be used by the average user (remember, it’s an entry level camera; someone who really needs to “disable AF by tracking colors” – and who is willing to flip to page 393 of a manual to figure this out – would buy a more expensive professional camera).

But most importantly: the experience of shooting with that Kowa SE was far superior, because although you could only control three parameters (focus, aperture and shutter speed), you  had direct control over them. You twisted the focus ring around the lens, and you had immediate feedback by seeing that split image come together into focus. You set your aperture and shutter speed, peeking at the light-meter needle in the viewfinder, and you knew exactly what effect that would have, because there weren’t dozens of other parameters being tweaked behind your back by algorithms in the camera’s “brain” – it had no brain, so you had to use yours. In fact you learned to use it well, because with a film camera any error would only be discovered days or weeks later when the prints were developed.

Incidentally, the Kowa SE was not my best SLR – in the 1980s I owned a Minolta X700 film camera. This had 17 physical controls  and a manual of 62 pages, and was at about the sweet spot in the features vs usability equation. It had added the automatic exposure mode that today’s cameras have, which was useful at times, but not being computerized, it was still a straightforward camera. And it had the split-image focusing screen that was effective and fun to use.

And then came Digital cameras, bless them, and the creeping featurism that today allows me to shoot images made to look like watercolor paintings, or like low-quality toy camera photographs. And a zillion other things (see pages 129–165, 311–337, and 426 – or whatever).

Oh well…

Slide rules for a new century

The Tavernier-Gravet company was France’s premier scientific instrument maker at the end of the 19th century, and it stayed abreast of the latest developments in slide rule design and production when it entered the 20th century. In this this new article on my History-of–Computing site I illustrate some of their problems and solutions as they transitioned into the new century.

Tavernier-Gravet Slide Rules

Genaille’s calculating rods

When my kids were at school they were taught addition with colored wooden rods. Well, a century earlier two innovative Frenchmen – Henri Genaille and Edouard Lucas – invented a system that does rapid multiplication and division using much more sophisticated rods, and I have in my collection a box of these ingenious calculation aids.

Genaille-Lucas rods

You can read all about them here!

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