If you had been standing by the roadside in Surrey, England in
1908, you might have caught a glimpse of three remarkable cars driving down the
road. The cars were all identical
Cadillac automobiles, but they were certainly…different.
The world’s
first racetrack, Brooklands, was conducting a test of a relatively radical new
idea for automobiles: interchangeable parts.
Up to that time, each car had had hand-fitted parts made for that
vehicle specifically. Even two
apparently identical vehicles had variations in their parts, and if one needed
a part replaced, it required a skilled mechanic to alter and fit the part.
In 1908, the Royal Automobile Club sponsored a test for
standardized parts. While ten car
companies were invited, only the Cadillac Motor Car Company showed up. Three different Cadillac cars, painted three
different colors, were dismantled and the parts placed in a single pile in the
middle of a garage. 89 parts were
randomly removed and replaced with new ones straight from the Cadillac
storeroom in London.
Then, the mechanics reassembled three cars using only
screwdrivers and wrenches. The resulting
cars were no longer very attractive, as each had doors, fenders, wheels, and
hoods of oddly mismatched colors. Then
the three cars were driven 500 miles around the Brooklands track and the nearby
streets of Surrey without a breakdown.
Cadillac was awarded the Dewar Prize, the automotive equivalent of the
Nobel Prize.
This feat changed everything in the automobile industry. Now, every car company had to rush to offer
interchangeable parts. I blame this
on Napoleon.
Almost everyone in America knows that interchangeable
parts are something that started with Eli Whitney and the production of guns
for the US government. I remember
learning this in the fifth grade. I
think that was the last thing I learned that year, since shortly after
that day in history class, I started to change my opinion of the relative
ickiness of girls.
(Actually, of course, the first true universally interchangeable
parts were created when the first United States Congress convened in 1789. There hasn’t been a pennyworth of difference
among those idiots in the last 225 years.)
Eli Whitney was a fake: in 1808, he wanted the government
contract so much that he claimed he could manufacture a large number of guns
with interchangeable parts--and his claim seemed plausible, since he let
Congress examine a few carefully selected muskets. The congressmen took the muskets apart, piled
up all the parts, stirred them around and then put the muskets back
together. Since they still worked,
Congress gave Whitney the contract for 10,000 muskets.
There is only one way to truly create interchangeable parts—with
machinery. There is simply no way to
rapidly duplicate precise parts by hand.
A skilled craftsman can slowly produce a limited number of parts
possessing fairly close tolerances--and this is how Eli Whitney was able to
fool the US government. However, only
machinery can rapidly turn out identical pieces and this form of
technology did not exist when Whitney won the contract. (This is why Whitney delivered the muskets years
late, and none of them had interchangeable parts!)
In fact, not long after this, the ability to mass produce certain
parts became a critical military requirement.
(And if necessity is the mother of invention, it follows that "a
critical military requirement is the evil mother-in-law".)
Now, fast forward to 1810, when England was at war with Napoleon’s France. (Ah, the good old days, when you could have a
war with someone you could--even if only occasionally--actually like.) The British government was suffering
something resembling an embarrassment of riches. The British navy was made up of 191 giant
ships of the line, 245 frigates, and numerous other smaller warships--giving it
over 860 ships altogether. (And another
56 ships were being constructed.)
Not only was the navy large, it was damn good. In several wars and countless battles, the
British Navy had humiliated the navies of France, Spain, Denmark, Turkey,
Algeria, Russia, and Holland. During the
period from 1792-1812, the ships of His Majesty’s navy had fought in over 200 engagements and won all but 5. (And all of those losses were in single
ship-to-ship battles, none of them more recent than 7 years earlier.)
The inevitable consequence of this incredible string of victories
was that an English victory was expected by not only the English, but by the
captains and crews of the enemy ships the British fought. With this attitude, it will not be surprising when I tell you
that no fewer than 170 of the ships that made up the British Navy had been
captured from other countries during combat.
This huge navy was a virtual forest of masts and rigging in
Portsmouth Harbor and all of this rigging had to be constructed and maintained
for the navy. Some of the required
items were pulley blocks that enabled ships to raise and lower sails, steer
ships, and lift heavy cargo. These giant
pulleys were all made of wood and no two of the hundreds of thousands of them
in service were exactly the same.
Between the needs of new ships and replacing the blocks of older
ships, the Admiralty office was purchasing an astonishing 100,000 new pulley
blocks a year.
Marc Brunel revolutionized the Portsmouth Block Mills at the
harbor by introducing machinery run by conveyor belts, powered by two 30 hp.
steam engines that automated the entire process of manufacturing the pulley
blocks. The forty-five separate machines
that performed 22 processes could turn out standardized blocks in three
sizes--and every piece was uniform and could be used to replace a defective
part of the same-sized block.
Not only was a superior block produced, but the labor savings
were enormous. Where 110 men had worked
previously to produce a limited number of blocks of varying quality, ten men
using the new machinery were capable of producing 130,000 blocks a year.
The nineteenth century saw the end of the great wooden ships, as
first iron, then steel monsters replaced the beautiful great ships of the
line. Sails gave way to coal- and
oil-fired ships. Napoleon died, and (sadly)
France and England became allies. Brunel’s pulley blocks fared much
better. The machinery making them was
still in use during World War II, only ceasing production in 1960.
I don't quite believe in reincarnation, but if it does exist, I suspect my Sweet Baboo was once the captain of a British frigate. Everything in my house is kept ship-shape and Bristol fashion. She's threatened more than once to make an interchangeable part out of me, usually when I fail in one or the other of my duties. I've never actually been flogged, but it's been a near thing on a couple of occasions.
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