In the modern world, so much of what we rely on is made by someone else. Our cars, computers, phones - the vast majority of people today cannot make these things. Frankly, no one person can. These manufacturing marvels take teams of designers, engineers, fabricators, and technicians to create. And it doesn't have to be big tech to be out of reach for the average Joe to make. I sure can't smelt iron in my garage, and I'm not equipped to forge metal into pots, pans, and silverware - all of which I use. Honestly, I use far more stuff others make than anything I have made myself. But that doesn't keep me from making. And it shouldn't limit you either.
Instead of letting others make all our stuff for us, as makers, we have control over what we use and do.
There's a satisfaction in doing so; making is gratifying. But it's far more than a good feeling. Making is about learning through doing. It's about DIYing our lives and teaching others to do the same. Instead of letting Big ‘Whatever’ dictate what we have, know, and do ourselves, makers make the choices.
The term "maker" emerged during the early Internet of Things (IoT) trend, partially attempting to democratize technology design and production. Many programmers, software engineers, and hardware designers of the time, dissatisfied with the few mega-corporations dominating their field, started referring to themselves as "makers" as they tried to escape the confines of these oppressive technology overlords. Soon, maker culture was born in defiance of corporate greed. Since then, this narrowly defined concept has expanded beyond tech, and now “maker” encompasses all aspects of creativity, including traditional arts & crafts and the efforts of skilled artisans, fabricators, and machinists. The unifying theme is doing it oneself, not just because we can or have to, but because it frees us from those seeking to subjugate.
At its heart, making as it is defined today disrupts the status quo. It's about saying no to corporations seeking to limit human freedoms for profit. It's about taking charge of what we buy and what we choose to make - or fix - ourselves.
But it's not about making everything from scratch. Making is a kind of "cut-and-paste" mentality where makers draw on various sources, including pre-fab parts and seemingly disparate skills (electronics and sewing, for example). And reclaiming used and old things to create something new is a part of it too.
The "Right to repair" movement was born out of the new maker movement and is a logical extension. Instead of letting corporations get away with planned obsolescence and secretive designs, consumers have increasingly demanded the tools, means, and knowledge to fix our things. And it's no wonder; being strong-armed into buying something new is always bitter. And it's also a major driving force in separating the haves and the have-nots; those who can afford new buy new and those who can't do without. But fixing our stuff puts the power back where it should be - in the hands of the consumer.
Rich or poor, skilled or not, right-to-repair at least gives us all a chance.
Making - and by extension, repairing - is not new, of course. Boomers were the first modern generation to embrace DIY as we know it. On the heels of World War II, scarcity was common and self-reliance a must. The world was rebuilding, after all, and a global economy was in its infancy.
If people of this time wanted - or needed - stuff, they had to DIY it.
As a Gen-Xer, my boomer Mom and Pop could do anything. Welding, baking, carpentry, gardening, plumbing, canning, sewing, mechanics, electrical - these tasks and so many more my parents did themselves. Frankly, a repairman at the house was as rare as a Jehovah's Witness being invited in for supper (as in never). We had to DIY things - it was the seventies and eighties, and things were the tightest they'd been since the big war.
But my parents never seemed put off by having to do it themselves; it was a source of pride for them. It meant they could save some cash, and it also meant they could teach. And my siblings and I learned the value of making through them because they valued making things so much.
I'm doing the same with my son. He enjoys being creative, and I have seized upon that to teach him the value and joy of making. Like I before him, he marvels at what his dad can do. It makes me proud that he admires me and wants to emulate my maker and fixer abilities. And at the young age of nine, he continues to show great promise.
But my son is fortunate. He has influences as I did; teachers who show him the value and power of making. But making should not be in the hands of a few, no more than the right to repair should be left to big companies alone. Everyone should make, but we all must learn the value in making to do so.
Confidence. Knowledge. Empowerment. Defiance against oppression. All these stem from making.
Knowing "I can do that too" means knowing we have the ability, smarts, and strength to do so much more. Making is about overcoming a perceived obstacle in ways that prepares us for the ever-present obstacles ahead. But one has to make to know these things to be true.
Insert maker camps, maker spaces, and STEM/STEAM learning.
Kids need to be taught the value of creating if they are to become makers as adults. And it has to be in an environment where making is not a competition. It's not about making something better than the next kid; it's about making something - full stop. When kids make, they see how the world works and are better equipped to keep learning and take charge of their lives. And as such, making is and should be for everyone.
Making - being a maker - is about taking back the design and fabrication of the made world. Not all of it, mind you. That would be impossible. But making, even in small ways, helps us understand our lives and imparts a level of empowering self-reliance. And in doing so, we learn when to rely on others and recognize when others hold us hostage - by design. In making, we then get to choose.
Making - at its best - frees us to live our lives as we wish.
Until next time.
JRC