10 09 2023
There is something inexplicably satisfying about building something yourself. It resonates with our fundamental humanity to take unshaped atomic parts and turn them into something cohesive that serves a purpose- whether that is of pure utility or only the function of being beautiful and making the world more beautiful in its own small way.
This feeling is what initially drew me to software years ago. Technology has made building things more accessible than ever. Armed with only a laptop you can turn electrical signals into works of art, practical tools, vehicles for teaching and learning, or mechanisms of bringing joy and fostering play. In a way, technology has democratized building; anyone with patience and a computer can build things!
Yet, for all the wonders of the digital world, there is no substitute for the beauty of crafting in the physical world.
In recent years our society has become fixated on efficiency and progress, often valuing perfection and uniformity over individual expression and creativity. The result has been a push to only build things that impact or can be used by many people, while simultaneously dissuading people from building in the physical world unless they are experts or can produce flawless, factory-like objects. We would rather our kids build virtual castles in Minecraft than janky tree forts in the backyard. We would rather see a bright 20-something build an app to deliver alcohol than a house for themselves to live in.
We've lost sight of the beauty of small-scale-creation. Within our own lives lie many much smaller fulfilling opportunities to connect with the world, with nature and its materials.
At this point I could go into a lengthy impassioned thesis on how the pursuit of efficiency and progress and planetary-level impact has caused the general sense of disillusionment, loneliness, and depression common to more and more cultures. But instead let us simplify it to this, building stuff in the real non-digital world is great. This isn't groundbreaking knowledge or anything, but I have just been in awe of how gratifying it is to see, touch, and use something you've made yourself. Whether it is a garden bed, a whittled spoon, or a complex structure, you still get that feeling. But don't trust me, you ought to try it for yourself.