Maintenance, it must be noted, is fundamentally different from repair. Maintenance refers to the routine activities undertaken to keep a device functioning within established parameters; repair refers to activities undertaken to restore functionality to a device which suffered some kind of failure. Oftentimes, a necessary repair arises from failure to perform necessary maintenance, something of which most of us are guilty at some point, and to which we may be predisposed for some systems more than others. How we think about maintenance is an exercise in some interesting individual psychology, and it is the psychology of maintenance with which Brand’s book is primarily concerned.
There are systems in our lives which we expect to require maintenance, and systems which we expect simply to work. Routine maintenance on our vehicles – oil changes, new brake pads, fluid top-off, tire replacements, etc. – are normal, accepted parts of owning and operating a vehicle (although some of these fall more into the category of replenishing consumables than pure maintenance), although the requirements for vehicles with electric drivetrains are a bit different. We don’t think twice at needing to do these things to keep our cars running, though we might grumble and complain a bit about the hassle of scheduling the appointment and dropping off the car, or finding the time and tooling to do it ourselves. If our smartphones had to be taken into the shop for maintenance every six months, though, it would be a shock – it’s a system we expect simply to work (well, software updates are a form of maintenance, but they have been optimized to be pretty low friction from a user perspective). The more you expect a system simply to work, the less willing or likely you are to do maintenance on it, and the more upset you will be when it eventually stops working. I suspect this is one of the reasons most of us are much more willing to execute repairs on our vehicles than we are on other devices in our lives.
In the introduction to Maintenance: Of Everything, Brand coherently presents three vignettes encapsulating divergent maintenance philosophies, which I like to call the “expect it to fail” philosophy, the “optimize from the beginning” philosophy, and the “head in the sand” philosophy (although the third really shouldn’t be considered a maintenance philosophy). The vignettes are about individuals in a boat race around the world, which makes for more dramatic storytelling, but here’s an everyday example we can all relate to: smartphones. Apple devices are notorious for being difficult, expensive, and sometimes nigh impossible to repair or modify, to the chagrin of some elements of the community…but they also have a reputation for reliability. Apple devices, both their smartphones and their other offerings, are built to run and run and run without requiring maintenance. Their design focus is on a precision and caliber of engineering which aims to drive maintenance and repair needs to an absolute minimum, such that it becomes more viable to simply replace the unit when it fails. Other smartphone brands might lack Apple’s reliability, but it is often more viable to make repairs and conduct maintenance on these devices.
With my background in spacecraft engineering, I instinctively lean more towards Apple’s philosophy towards maintenance and repairability, because there is no repairing a satellite once it’s launched, and it must operating for years in one of the most physically challenging environments we can access. Yes, there have been exceptions to the no repairs/maintenance thing, namely the Hubble Space Telescope, but most space missions do not have the luxury of launching manned shuttle missions as support. That may change as platforms like DARPA’s RSGS proliferate, and there are limited maintenance tasks we can perform from the ground – momentum management, station keeping maneuvers, software updates, limited mechanical actuation, heater cycling – but we can’t maintain spacecraft the way we maintain cars.
Despite the distinction I made at the top of the review, maintenance and repairs can easily bleed together, and there is a strong sympathy between Brand’s advocacy for maintenance and the repairability movement. If you’re not familiar, the repairability movement is an effort to advocate for more open documentation, standards, and protocols so that owners of devices can make their own repairs or hire a third party to do so, instead of being forced to either junk the device or return it to the original manufacturer. More and more devices are locked down, so that the so-called “owner” has little to no control over the purchased device, and even authorized repair shops must pay for expensive, proprietary diagnostic equipment and software accesses. It’s the sort of cause which most people have never heard of until it becomes a problem for them. A little like maintenance, actually.
Most of the stories Brand uses to make his points will be familiar: the history of the automobile, of gunsmithing, of interchangeable parts and the assembly line. Presenting them as maintenance stories, though, turns up new details and requires looking at the familiar with a different perspective. Indeed, there is a reason this is a book about the philosophy of maintenance, not a book about maintenance. As you read, you will find yourself looking around at the complex systems with which we interact every day, and thinking either a) there’s a lot of maintenance going on behind the scenes we don’t normally notice, or b) it’s astonishing they don’t require more maintenance. From stoves to computers, the way we can simply expect them to work is a testament to the level of engineering and manufacturing behind them. Even with cars, which are an exemplar of a consumer product with significant required routine maintenance, is it not impressive we can have a ubiquitous device that can travel thousands of miles without the user doing more than replacing the consumables before it needs maintenance?
With regards to philosophy, I look for that which prompts me to ask deeper questions and look at the ordinary in a different way. Sometimes, that means questioning what common terms like zero and infinity really mean, and the significance they have on our interpretations of the reality. Maintenance might seem a less intellectually viable topic, not something suitable to receive a “philosophical” treatment, but Maintenance: Of Everything does exactly what I look for in philosophical works. Brand may not reframe how you conceive of morality or the nature of the self, but it will absolutely prompt you to look at the world through a different lens. Whether you’re someone who designs systems or someone who uses them (and most of us are a little of both), this is worth a read. And, if you’re already responsible for the maintenance of everything, then perhaps it can be a useful reminder; it’s certainly a reminder to the rest of us of your importance.
