
BY DOC SPEARS
I recall from the 1990s often hearing this sort of statement:
“The Saturn V rocket could not be built today. The know-how’s been lost. America will never be the nation it once was!”
The Saturn V rocket that carried us to the moon was once absolute proof of our national will to lead from the front and to possess an unquestionable dominance in tech. When the age of the space race ended, the bemoaning of that pseudo-technical argument was regularly used as proof of an America in decline.
That thesis was as deceptively true as it was technically false. I’ll explain.
The blueprints for the Saturn V weren’t lost, nor were there a lack of engineers to interpret them but, imagine the drawings for a house. Nowhere on the plans does it say how to cut the materials, what tools to use, which fasteners suit best, etc., etc.
To produce the colossus that was the Saturn V, it relied on a knowledge of building and construction similar to the team of architects, contractors, and great carpenters relied on to build a custom home. And like the unique creation brought to life from the draftsman’s board, the Saturn V’s production depended most heavily on the gifted hands of the uncanny craftsman who actually formed its many parts. To build such components with the required properties and capabilities never before achieved, much of the machine tooling and processes had to be created.
And it was all done essentially by hand.
Post-Apollo, the need went away, as did the manufacturing to produce the most powerful machine ever built. All were scrapped or repurposed—as were the artificers who wielded those tools—thus, no more Saturn Vs could ever be built.
That’s the reality behind the claim arguing America’s fall into technologic weakness.
The further deconstruction of that silly thesis is even better. Because, you see, when the time finally came to build a machine as powerful, was the issue really that we no longer could? Was it truly that we’d slouched our way into incompetence? That our engineering and manufacturing sectors could not produce works as great as those who came before us?
Ridiculous. As is the character of most arguments rooted in the declinist cognitive bias, the nostalgic view that things were better in the past than the present.
The reason as to why we would no longer build the Saturn V is because we would build something better. Our next greatest rocket would be built with newer manufacturing technologies, likely with improved ease, depending less and less on the precision of master machinists and their wizardry with the tools of creation.
Which is exactly what happened.
The SpaceX Super Heavy Booster that will carry the Starship has more than twice the lifting power of the Saturn V. It is more fuel efficient, depends heavily on automation like CNC machining and 3D printed parts (manufacturing processes undreamed of by the makers of the Saturn V), and most amazingly as a result, its engine production is scalable to a rate of one per day! Plus, the booster is recoverable and reusable.
Knowing all this, who would argue to build a Saturn V as it was once done?
Which leads me to my intended subject, the discussion of custom, semi-custom, and stock production pistols.
There is a special place for American pistols produced before WW2. It was the zenith of a period for the artful and functional manufacture of arms. The factory lines that produced such masterpieces were dominated by gifted gunsmiths, who hand filed and shaped the complex, hardened geometries of internal parts. The exterior fit and finishes were the result of the same masterful applications of the file and wheel. Even novices can identify the polished blues and deep colors of case hardened parts as belonging to that period of the highest achievement of American firearms manufacturing.
Today’s blogpost is turning out differently from what I initially intended, and I can see I’ll have to address the many subjects I wish to discuss through many more posts. So, if you’re interested in the art and functionality of pistols, you’re in luck. (If not, I’m the lucky one in that this takes care of me searching for future topics for a while…)
If you don’t care about pistols, take heart! Because within all of these future posts—beyond the specific and practical relating to pistols—will be at the core a few recurring themes, rooted in philosophical exploration; most of which have many applications far beyond the specific field of pistolcraft.
The first of these philosophical themes is a contrast between individuation and homogenization; essentially, the place for soulful, artisanal, personalized creations Vs. the mass-produced, oftentimes slop of a McDonalds or Burger King, which is not the pejorative it may seem. The MacBook I’m typing on is a mass-produced, easily replaceable item, highly functional and prized, yet hardly capable of achieving the same metaphysical worthiness present in a hand-forged blade.
The second theme I will weave into all I share in upcoming posts regards the value of self-discipline. Discipline is worthwhile for its own sake. It is a tool for self-development; for expanding consciousness; for becoming a better person. If you recognize and exploit them to their fullest, whatever your chosen activity, these values can be applied in the pursuit of your personal growth.
As it applies to guns—whether your purpose is exercising liberty, self-defense, or the higher art of pistolcraft—it can be a true medium for personal development and one I hope to inspire you to take up.
The third theme I will return to in this series again and again ties into how I started today’s blogpost. This is the greatest of all possible times in which to exercise a pursuit of pistolcraft. The precision and functionality of many factory available offerings has never been better. And given your chosen application, you may never need or desire anything more than what can be provided at the gun counter.
But if you desire more—both as a means of individuation and in a want for improved capability—the raw materials are readily available from which to create finery such as no king has ever owned, as are the masters to craft for you your own Excalibur.
Doc, you hit it on the head, we have the blueprints, we don't have want to build things we once did.
I had just had a similar conversation with someone last week about why we no longer "can" build the Roman Colosseum or Gothic cathedrals. My arguing pount wasn't that we "can't" do so, but that we have moved on to structural architecture that is more suited to our time period. Are they as asthetically pleasing? Maybe not, to some eyes. But humanity continues to find new ways to be more efficient in how they build and create, as well as evolving new technologies that can produce results that are similarly pleasing - albeit in a different manner. Watching SpaceX catch their reuseable rocket was - dare I say - almost more awe-inspring than the space shuttle missions. Thanks for your post.