Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry into the Value of Work

The author has many interesting and thought-provoking ideas, but a lot of them are misguided, at best. Also, the book reads like his real point is, "I'm smarter and better-educated than you!" For that reason alone, I won't be recommending it to my husband, whom I originally thought might like it.

Also, the author holds many misogynistic attitudes that he doesn't even seem to notice he is displaying -- 95/100 pronouns are male, as if women don't work; he calls corporate culture a "nanny state", and his contempt for diversity and emotional intelligence, among other things, is crystal clear. He asserts, unironically, that "telling dirty jokes" at work is a *benefit* of jobs in the trades that office workers, those poor saps, don't get to show more enjoy.

He is apparently married with small daughters. I hope he eventually learns that women are fully human, just like men are -- before his daughters read this book. show less

Summary: A philosopher turned motorcycle mechanic explores the nature of satisfying work and the intellectual dignity of the manual trades.

Why would a Ph.D. give up a prestigious job in a Washington think tank to open up a motorcycle repair shop? Why does he find greater intellectual satisfaction tearing apart a motorcycle engine, working with solvents, grease, and oil, than producing articles on political philosophy? This work is Matthew B. Crawford’s personal answer to those questions.

He begins with some observations that caught my attention and helped explain the title of the book. When I attended middle school, all the boys (sexist as we were in those days) had to take classes in the mechanical arts–shop class. Even though I was show more on the geekier end of the spectrum, I had to buy the requisite safety glasses and learn mechanical drawing, basic wood and metal working including working around power equipment without losing a finger or other appendage. We learned what tools to use for different jobs. From about the 1990’s on, such classes were phased out because the emphasis increasingly was on preparing for college, and for becoming a knowledge worker. Which explains Crawford’s friend who has a surfeit of power equipment (as well as the dearth of people in the trades).

Crawford argues that our society’s focus on “knowledge work” has degraded the manual trades. Principally, it fails to recognize the kind of intelligence it takes to wire a house, build a building, plumb a bathroom properly, or diagnose a misfiring problem in a motorcycle when all the diagnostic procedures fail to yield an answer. Crawford observes that we no longer know how to care for and repair our stuff–indeed, some of it has been engineered by people who haven’t thought about making such repairs, or made those repairs a proprietary process. We’ve separated thinking and doing, denigrating the doers whose work takes skill, intuition, problem-solving ability, and imagination, while upholding knowledge workers often disconnected from the world of things.

Crawford narrates his own journey from electrician to working for an abstracting service whose productivity demands impaired his ability to do what the work really required. After completing a doctorate in political philosophy, he went to work for a Washington think tank but quit after five fatiguing months of struggling to do anything of tangible worth. He found he had more of a sense of individual agency and connectedness to his work and community as an electrician or mechanic.

He takes us into a deep dive into the work of motorcycle repair, describing challenging repair jobs on old machines he’d never encountered. We learn about the “guild” of mechanics, the wisdom acquired from years of experience that leads to a kind of intuitive knowledge when one encounters a particular problem. He traces the journey from apprenticeship to becoming a master mechanic. This work occurs in a community of other mechanics, parts dealers, enthusiasts, and novices in which one is alienated neither from the material one works on or the web of relationships within which the work occurs.

The subtitle of this book is “an inquiry into the value of work.” Crawford argues that many are disconnected from the value of their work, and sometimes find this in leisure activities. Meaningful work, he would argue, involves full engagement with the stuff of one’s work, allowing for “progress in excellence,” contributing to a life well-lived by those served by the work. He argues that a humane economy allows for and rewards such work. He also notes the built in accountability of good work–an improperly vented toilet stinks up the whole house! Such accountability needs to be built into knowledge work as well, and happens best in community. At one time, for example, mortgage lenders were in a community and knew their clients and were responsible for good lending practices. The loss of this connection to one’s work contributed to the disaster of 2008.

I found myself applauding much of this book. My father-in-law, a high school educated laborer, designed and built his own garage–a structure still standing fifty years after he passed. This kind of intelligence needs to be honored and those who work in these kinds of jobs held up to high regard if they do their work to the standard of excellence Crawford describes. I hope at the same time that this will not have the effect of denigrating all knowledge work. I think of researchers who build their own research apparatus, write their own computer code and combine mental and mechanical skill with the same skillful agency Crawford describes. I think of skillful managers who combine technical expertise and soft skills to develop products that serve others while creating flourishing environments for those on their teams. His larger discussion of what makes good work applies both to manual trades and “knowledge work.” All good work involves both thinking and doing, agency and engagement, the flourishing both of worker and the common good.

Both manual and knowledge work can be organized in ways that demean or dignify the worker. Good societies will not play one off against the other but recognize the dignity of meaningful work in all arenas. Crawford also raises good questions about the communities within which good work takes place. Increasingly, I find myself wondering if we can afford the global economy we have created, where we rely on workers and supply chains half way around the planet while living disconnected economic lives from our neighbors. This book is about a lot more than shop class! show less

"Shop Class as Soulcraft" brings alive an experience that was once quite common, but now seems to be receding from society a the experience of making and fixing things with our hands. Those of us who sit in an office often feel a lack of connection to the material world, a sense of loss, and find it difficult to say exactly what we do all day. For anyone who felt hustled off to college, then to the cubicle, against their own inclinations and natural bents, "Shop Class as Soulcraft" seeks to restore the honor of the manual trades as a life worth choosing. On both economic and psychological grounds, Crawford questions the educational imperative of turning everyone into a "knowledge worker," based on a misguided separation of thinking from show more doing, the work of the hand from that of the mind. Crawford shows us how such a partition, which began a century ago with the assembly line, degrades work for those on both sides of the divide. But Crawford offers good news as well: the manual trades are very different from the assembly line, and from dumbed-down white collar work as well. They require careful thinking and are punctuated by moments of genuine pleasure. Based on his own experience as an electrician and mechanic, Crawford makes a case for the intrinsic satisfactions and cognitive challenges of manual work. The work of builders and mechanics is secure; it cannot be outsourced, and it cannot be made obsolete. Such work ties us to the local communities in which we live, and instills the pride that comes from doing work that is genuinely useful. A wholly original debut, "Shop Class as Soulcraft" offers a passionate call for self-reliance and a moving reflection on how we can live concretely in an ever more abstract world. show less

Shop Class as Soulcraft is a deeply insightful exploration of the value of skilled work in a world increasingly dominated by abstract, digital labor. Matthew Crawford makes a compelling case for the intellectual, ethical, and personal fulfillment found in hands-on craftsmanship.

This book isn’t just for tradespeople—it’s a call to rethink how we define meaningful work and a persuasive reminder that mastery, responsibility, and creativity can flourish outside the traditional office. Thought-provoking, eloquent, and inspiring, it challenges readers to reconnect with the tangible satisfaction of making things well.

This book appalled me, even though the premise is wonderful: a reminder to enjoy work that changes the world in a tangible way--work that uses tools and is done with your hands instead of your mind. Great!

But almost every reference in the book has to do with Men Finding Meaning. About the only reference to a woman at work is a single paragraph where the omnipresent "he" in this book turns to a "she," and "she" is baking with a Betty Crocker cake mix. "She" never gets to do electrical work, or motorcycle repair, or any of the other trades in this book. Just faux-baking. It feels as if the author has never actually thought about the possibility of a woman picking up a socket wrench.

A worse sin to me, however, is that Crawford never show more acknowledges that women (mostly it's women in these roles) are physically changing the world all the time with their hands. I have to wonder why the work many women do on top of their regular jobs, of cooking, cleaning, and caring for family, and of fixing things at home to be more pleasant and/or just to function, doesn't register at all with Crawford as "soulcraft." Traditional women's work doesn't make the grade in this book as meaningful labor whereas it seems to me to be deeply meaningful.

Indeed, in a half-assed way the author inadvertently allowed me to reclaim physical labor I do with my hands every day as meaningful labor. I am reminded that I should take more pleasure in this work than I have done in the past. Rather than resent the cooking and cleaning and caring--the things that my education has taught me to disparage and resent--I have come to a realization that since these things must be done, I should do them well. All these thoughts came about in spite of the author rather than because of him, though.

So even though the message of the book had none of this in it, I'm glad to have read it, because I have begun to value this labor of mine more than I did before. My guess is Crawford's wife is doing all the housework for him and that's possibly the reason he doesn't know about its value. Let's hope she gets to write a book about her work experiences, too. show less

Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry Into the Value of Work is one of the most thought-provoking books I’ve ever read. Author, thinker, and motorcycle mechanic Matthew B. Crawford tackles the sweeping subject of work in America and how it has changed dramatically over the past century, covering such broad topics as technology, vocational education, car and motorcycle repair, business management, the degradation of blue-collar work, and many other ideas and institutions we take for granted. Crawford challenges the easy assumptions of what he calls our “throwaway culture” to make a compelling case for the cognitive rigor, objective standards, and personal dignity inherent to skilled manual labor.

I was hooked from the start when he show more began talking about the pervasive ways technology has helped us not to help ourselves. He calls it “the hood beneath the hood,” when you open up your car to fix something yourself and are confronted with a more aesthetically pleasing view that precludes the possibility of your getting at the actual problem itself. Or when you’re confronted with a water faucet that you can’t turn on manually but must activate by inanely waving your hands before it to coax a short stream of water out. I’ve experienced this frustration myself with our DVD player that, presumably to make things “easier,” has no buttons on it but is instead controlled solely by the remote (which often doesn’t work).The rather sobering point is that as technology becomes more complex to increase our convenience, it also increases our dependence as we become passive users rather than active problem-solvers.

Crawford explains the evolution of vocational education and why it took on the stigma it still carries, even today when its cognitive and practical value has been demonstrated. He compares today’s knowledge worker and office environment to the fast-disappearing skilled craftsman, to the detriment of the former. Knowledge work is subject to offshoring to an extent unprecedented among the trades which require a person to be on site, pounding a nail or fixing a drain. Also under critical examination are the nebulous rules and qualifications which the office worker (and management) must navigate and often make up as they go along, as opposed to the carpenter who faces merely “the accusation of his level” (that is, an objective and unchanging standard).

Crawford is uniquely qualified to write a book like this, having lived on both sides of the knowledge worker/skilled craftsman divide. After college he worked for several months at a think tank, coming up with what he calls “the best arguments money could buy.” The work was extremely well paid but lacked the tactile satisfaction inherent to physical labor. He soon quit to start a motorcycle repair shop where he wrestles with the innards of recalcitrant bikes (and loves it).

Not only is it thought-provoking, but this book is also skillfully written. Crawford has a keen sense of phrasing and doesn’t waste a word. I found Shop Class as Soulcraft to be well worth the read, fascinating as well as slightly disturbing where our culture’s shortcomings and weaknesses are exposed. Still, there is hope for the next generation of workers. The skilled trades aren’t going away; people will always need houses built and healthcare provided and services skillfully performed. And today we are seeing a national shift toward career preparation that is broader than the traditional college-to-career path. The key is to find what you’re passionate about, what you’re good at, what challenges and stretches and becomes part of you somehow — and do it, regardless of what the larger culture thinks.

As a defense of hands-on, skilled labor, this book is convincing. As a confrontation of the fallacious and empty ideals we’ve inherited about knowledge work versus blue-collar jobs, it’s more important than ever. Recommended! show less

Okay. One is not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I'll admit that the cover (with the motorcycle in front of the shop) is the first thing that attracted my attention.

I'm certain that I'm primed by years of enjoying woodworking, metalworking, old engines and other hobbies, and even having had a motorcycle for a short period when younger, to being attracted to such images.
I see a shop in the picture and think of building things and tinkering with gadgets (like, perhaps, the motorcycle).
Though I'm certain that such priming can "go the other way", the imagery evoked in me is pleasant, perhaps, not only because I, too, sense the intrinsic worth and satisfaction of a "job" well done, but because I have also not had to suffer the show more potential realities of working in what Crawford explains is presently a devalued vocation.

Therein lies the rub for me: I grew up thinking that I would be able to apply my engineering education in highly creative and "intellectual" ways (and often have been able to and have become accustomed to the pay!), but have become increasingly disillusioned by the efficiencies espoused by modern corporate and economic culture and increasing distancing from "touching the actual gadget" being engineered!.

That is why, once I was captured by the cover, I was intrigued by the title of the book, and found myself purchasing it to discover more. And I am glad I did! It is stimulating to read Crawford's musings about the advantages of "craft work" and "working with one's hands", though he readily points out that more money can be made elsewhere. I wonder, if, as Crawford even briefly discusses was the case at one time for many, the answer for me is that I can attempt to enjoy my increasingly productivity-oriented and "remote" engineering work, and still make time for the more creatively indulging hobbies.

Perhaps for others that are not already accustomed to a particular vocation and pay, or even more ideally, the pendulum swings back to valuing crafts in both an intrinsic and monetary way, an even more satisfying way can be had.

The "Shop Class as Soulcraft" provokes such thoughts and imaginations - I recommend it! show less