There is an old expression about the perfect and the good that states that “Perfect is the enemy of good” or in its original French form, “Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien.” This is attributed to Voltaire and his famous quote has an interesting origin and meaning. He actually attributed this saying to “a wise Italian” in his moral poem “La Bégueule” (1772), where he wrote: “Dans ses écrits, un sage Italien Dit que le mieux est l’ennemi du bien” (In his writings, a wise Italian says that the best is the enemy of the good). The phrase likely comes from an earlier Italian proverb “Il meglio è nemico del bene” that had been documented since 1603 in “Proverbi Italiani” by Orlando Pescetti. As for why Voltaire popularized this expression, the meaning illuminates an important philosophical principle: insistence on perfection often prevents implementation of good improvements. Pursuing absolute perfection may be impossible and can stand in the way of appreciating or executing something that is imperfect but still valuable.
This philosophy has practical applications in many areas. In decision-making, accepting a good solution now rather than waiting indefinitely for a perfect one that may never come, has value. In creativity and work, completing projects that are good enough rather than endlessly refining them can be important. And in general life philosophy, finding contentment in what is good rather than always striving for an unattainable ideal can bring great peace of mind. Some interpret it to mean that looking for the best solution often prevents us from accepting a good enough solution. Others might interpret it differently, but the core message warns against letting perfectionism become paralyzing. The wisdom in this expression has made it enduring across centuries and cultures.
And then there’s Handy Brad, who’s world view transcends all time and cultures. I can ponder the thoughts of Voltaire and Pescetti ad nauseum, but Handy Brad lives in a very different reality and couldn’t give a shit about French or Italian philosophy. For the second time in six years, Handy Brad and I find ourselves down in the play area trying to make something to keep our occasional visiting youngsters entertained. What started 12 years ago as a carve-out of some 900 sf for a synthetic grass dog run for Kim and Cecil, became a 1,600 sf multi-game play area in the time of COVID, focused on mini-golf and bocci ball. But that surface was never leveled, much to Handy Brad’s chagrin, and the kids actually found it all too difficult to play on. It’s disappointing to spend time and money on something that doesn’t work right. Mea culpa. So, as I’ve mentioned in a prior story, I’m repurposing the area to create a level croquet pitch. As I reread that story, I am struck by my usual naiveté about what it takes to get things done. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems…especially when Handy Brad and I get locked in a cosmic struggle about how things should get done. Remember, he’s starting with the advantage that I was wrong in 2020 about not leveling the surface then. That just makes this whole negotiation that much more difficult.
Let me start with the easier of the my two most recent miscalculations. Given a $3k replacement cost for a slightly faded and marked-up 60×15 turf roll, repainting it seemed totally logical. But wait, artificial turf companies want you to buy new turf, not touch up old turf. Turns out that painting turf is no mean feat. The warnings against doing this yourself abound and the turf companies have even indoctrinated the Lowe’s and Home Depot paint people about warning against it. The only thing they say works is marking spray, which is the spray paint used to mark lines on the turf. They make a bright green color of that, which is supposed to cover 900 linear feet. Assuming a 3” spray swath, I figure that means it covers 200 sf. That should mean that I could cover the surface with 5 cans, 6 to be safe. I’ve now used 6 cans and have about 1/8 of the surface at most done. Something is either wrong with my math or the coverage stats are WAY off. This has caused me to rethink the whole turf painting program. I cannot see spending $1k on paint that may wear off sooner than I hope. So, I’ve redesigned the course visuals to use less green paint and combine what I’ve already painted and some fun graphics to make it all look like it was done on purpose. My approach when faced with adversity on a voluntary project like this is to place the good ahead of the perfect. Sometimes you just gotta tuck and roll.
I started with the turf painting because it doesn’t really involve Handy Brad. He really doesn’t care what I do with the turf design…or the croquet pitch altogether. What Handy Brad cares about are the things that he has had drilled into him over a lifetime of being a master stone and tile mason. What I know about that profession is that it starts and ends with zero-default leveling. It also has a lot to do with solid, over-engineered construction. You must use concrete wherever possible and, by God, you had better be sure that no part of it ever fails. In business you learn that fault-free systems are simply too expensive and impractical. The smart play is to optimize and do things as good as practical…and to a certain degree, good enough. But Handy Brad is no businessman, he’s a craftsman, and craftsmen care about perfection.
Handy Brad is spending his days laying concrete for the stone steps, and cursing the hilltop for all its unevenness. He’s working on that out of frustration with working out the railing for the high side of the pitch. Over the span of 50 feet, that side drops about a foot even though the surface is close enough to level that a croquet ball wouldn’t dream of rolling for an inch. But Handy Brad only cares about what the little bubble in the line level tell him. Every time I go down to the play area to see how he’s doing he is cursing to himself and sometimes not just to himself. Handy Brad is not enjoying this imperfect project. That fact that I think it’s coming out good seems to mean nothing.
I keep thinking I should acquaint Handy Brad with Voltaire in order to ease his pain. But then again, Handy Brad would call Voltaire an idiot. There is no way the good ever chases out the perfect in the world Handy Brad lives in. I have finally found the answer to getting through this project with Handy Brad. All I have to do is believe in perfection and submit to its power.