It’s not my fault

A View of the Cove and Part of Sydney’ – Underneath is written in black ink “Drawn by a Convict”. (Gardner Galleries)

Research by UNSW’s Pauline Grosjean and Rose Khatter posits that the glass ceiling in Australia can be attributed to its’ colonial past. According to the authors, the lack of women in the early days of colonial settlement has had a continuing effect on gender earnings.

Basically, Grosjean and Khatter argue that in the settlements where men outnumbered women (6:1), women had more bargaining power in the marriage market and consequently selected wealthier partners and worked less.  Due to ‘vertical cultural transmission and of homogamy in the marriage market in sustaining cultural persistence'(love that phrase!) regions where there were profound gender imbalances at settlement,  today tend to be more conservative and women are less likely to work in a professional capacity.

Interesting hypothesis that we would like to see the counter argument to (after the historical research is shredded apart).

Snap!

Image from http://thecoolgadgets.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/staple_free_stapler_pets_2-493×369.jpg

 

Continuing with collecting Colin Bisset’s wonderfully evocative snapshots of common stationery items.  Transcript and podcast available from http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/bydesign/design-file-with-colin-bisset-looks-at-the-stapler/5458120

A stapler is a very satisfying object, securely attaching paper with a pleasing crunch. Small wonder that it is so often a child’s favourite stationery item. The emergence of the stapler reflects a rise in the use of paper within offices during the 19th century. Previously, sheets of paper had been held together by pins or string or, in the case of legal documents, red tape. It is often reported that in the 18th century France’s King Louis XVI used the very first, suitably ornate stapler, but there is no evidence to support this.

Not everyone liked the idea of a metal fixing. In the early 1900s, several devices were invented which punched through and then wove the papers together in one action, but the idea never really took off.

The notion of creating a more secure fastening, however, was given a boost when Philadelphian Henry Heyl patented a stapling device in 1877 which could attach and fasten papers in one action. Unrelated, but demonstrative of the breadth of his creativity, was Heyl’s invention of a contraption called the Phasmatrope in 1870, which projected onto a screen a series of fixed images in quick succession so that they appeared to move, a major step forward in the development of modern cinematography. It’s debatable which has had the greater impact—the stapler or the film.

Heyls’ invention was closely followed in 1879 by fellow American George McGill’s commercially available stapler, which drove a 12 millimetre length of wire through papers and then folded its ends when the top of the machine was thumped down with a single-stroke, rather like a test-your-strength game at a fairground. This was simplicity itself; the key to any good stapler is the ability for one hand to hold the papers while the other operates the stapler. It was first displayed in Philadelphia’s Centennial Exhibition of 1876 and is a heavy object that looks a little like a Singer sewing machine. This eventually led to smaller and lighter staplers, and magazines that held up to 200 staples were commonplace by the 1920s. Not everyone liked the idea of a metal fixing, however. In the early 1900s, several devices were invented which punched through and then wove papers together in one action, but the idea never really took off.

A true hand-held stapler, where the stapling action is created by a spring-loaded handle, didn’t appear until the 1930s and was designed in Germany. These are often thought to be the most trouble-free staplers, as precise as a pair of pliers and possessing a certain simple elegance. Not surprisingly, perhaps, they remain the stapler of choice in style-conscious Europe. In 1941, the small stapler that we are most familiar with today was released, leading to a flurry of cheaper versions with plastic bodies in all sizes. These have a certain amount of flexibility. By turning the pivoting base plate, the staple can attach with an open or a closed end. They also allow papers to be pinned to a harder surface, rather like the tackers used in the building industry. A dedicated staple gun appeared towards the end of the 1940s using deep staples, meaning that fabric, for instance, could be fixed to wood. This has proved to be a boon for upholsterers, who previously had to use individual tacks.

Large-scale stapling such as that used in magazine production is replicated in the automated stapling action present in most office copying machines today. Staples themselves have now spread from the office and are found in all areas of manufacturing, as well as in hospital operating theatres, although thankfully the staple-suture is applied using a very precise gun-like applicator and staples of a very different kind from those found on desks. Without the stapler, though, it’s safe to say that we might all be utterly undone.

Keeping you posted

The wonderfully erudite Colin Bisset often explores the design of common place objects and here is his offering on the Post-It :

“It’s virtually impossible to imagine the contemporary office without at least a few sticky Post-It notes stuck on the computer monitor.

The Post-It note has injected its sunny yellow colour into the dullest office environment for over 30 years and would appear at first glance to be an item with a clear design brief. It was, in fact, the result of a happy accident.

In 1968 a chemist called Dr Spencer Silver, working for the American 3M company, was developing adhesives that were strong enough to hold two materials together without it being a permanent adhesion. Calling himself a ‘molecular architect’ he was looking for something called ‘peel adhesion’, which basically meant an adhesive that had mobility, the ability to be re-used.

Constituted from tiny individual spheres of glue (a word that Silver disliked due to its clumsy connotation of boiled-down animal bones), this new adhesive was reusable, maintaining its stickiness no matter how many times papers applied with it were attached and re-attached. No one could quite see how this might be useful, although the possible notion of using it in an aerosol can as a spray-on glue seemed a likely outcome. But Dr Silver was so taken with this new adhesive that he gave seminars about it throughout the company whenever possible—which is how Art Fry, a colleague at 3M who had worked on the development of sticky tape, came to remember it.

He was looking for an alternative to paper bookmarks for his Bible and the hymn book which he used while singing in a church choir. Ordinary paper bookmarks had the irritating habit of slipping out of place. Remembering Silver’s invention, he used a dab of the new adhesive on a piece of scrap paper and found it enabled a bookmark to remain safely attached to a page without causing any damage to the thin paper of a hymn book when it was removed.

Just large enough to write on, and in yellow paper because that’s the only colour that they had in stock, they became almost immediately ubiquitous, the brilliance of the item quickly spreading by word-of-mouth.

After experimenting with different densities of this new adhesive, his ‘eureka’ moment came when he stuck a note to a work colleague on the front of a report which was then taken off, written on and re-attached before being returned to Fry. The idea of using it as an office essential was quickly appreciated by those around him at 3M but customer research showed that the commercial world was not very interested in something that was solving a problem they didn’t appear to have noticed. 3M decided it was worth launching.

In 1977 they marketed it quietly in four American cities but it was received with a distinct lack of interest. Realising that people needed to actually experience it, they re-launched it in 1980, giving out samples this time.

Just large enough to write on, and in yellow paper because that’s the only colour that they had in stock, they became almost immediately ubiquitous, the brilliance of the item quickly spreading by word-of-mouth so that offices and homes around America became showcases for its many uses.

Even with the utopian vision of a paperless office, there will still lurk a single Post-It note, even when it’s only attached to the office fridge reminding people of the need to buy more milk. Endlessly copied and now available in different colours, shapes and sizes, the mark of 3M’s success lies in the fact that the name Post-It has remained the term commonly used for all sticky notes, in much the same way as Hoover became a by-word for all vacuum cleaners around the world including those not made by the Hoover company.

Of course a paperless Post-It note is now available, easily attached in the virtual world but nowhere near as much fun as the original mini-masterpiece and its astounding adhesive.”

The Prequel

Have you even wondered about the origins of the office?  Gideon Haigh posits it is the ancient Egyptians that we have to thank.

A granary model found in the Tomb of Meketre containing little model scribes recording the outgoings and incomings of that particular establishment in ‘quite a sophisticated fashion’ is proffered as evidence.

Part of the Metropolitan Museum of Art collection, the model clearly shows activities that we recognise as office work.

Office work predates the office.  Specialised space is a more subsequent development proceeding from the monastery (segmentation of the day and specialisation of role) and mercantile trade (with its impulse to record and account).

The first major purpose built office was the Uffizi, Florence.

Somewhat cynically Haigh ascribes Cosimo I de’ Medici’s motivation for its commission to his desire ‘to create a sense that he was there even though he was not’ so he could pursue his hunting activities. That’s one hell of a decoy.