I read The Week almost cover-to-cover each weekend. I consume it like a terrific meal, gulping it down and only too late wishing I had savored it. I'm convinced it was conceived specifically for me (I could do without the "Reviews of Art" section but, then again, maybe the universe is telling me something). It is presented in bite-sized columns and summary-length features. Somewhere near the end, I begin to yearn for something thicker to sink my teeth into. The Week always delivers. The last section, appropriately called The Last Word, is usually the perfect finale.
This week's issue highlights Matthew Crawford, who holds a PhD in Political Theory from University of Chicago, spent time as the executive director of a policy organization in Washington, DC and also runs a small motorcycle repair shop in Virginia. Described as "an intellectual who can probably take you in a bar fight," Matthew writes eloquently about the virtues of the craftsman. Far beyond being too dumb for any other work, he expresses the intellectual rewards and challenges available from working with your hands, in his case motorcycle repair:
"Some diagnostic situations contain so many variables that there comes a point where you have to step back and get a larger gestalt - have a cigarette and walk around the lift. At that moment, the gap between theory and practice stretches out in front of you. What you need now is the kind of judgment that arises only from experience; hunches rather than rules."
His book, Shop Class as Soulcraft, will be on my summer reading list.
