I was in the last group of high school students who were taught to use slide rules because the TI 30 calculator became affordable and wildly popular about 1979. My calculator battery died once while taking a physics exam in college. When I asked if I could leave to get a battery the proctor wordlessly handed me a log table. I used it successfully, but just barely.
I have two of my dad’s slide rules. I treasure them in part because I can hold what he held. My thumbs and fingers fit perfectly in the patina worn by his thumbs and fingers. The battered leather case with the belt loop speaks about his work as a chemist. It’s a tangible connection to an important past.
A side note about log tables and slide rules (which are based on logs): The tool gave you the digits, but you had to determine where to put the decimal place by estimating the answer. Was the answer 0.54, 54, or 54,000? One had to be mindful about the problem even as one trusted the tool. We lost something there with the advent of calculators, and it carries over into non-mathematical decision-making, too.
Back to the slide rules. I handle them regularly. It’s a ritual to remind me to value what my dad valued. It refreshes memories. I, too, will experience ups and downs and be just fine. It’s a reminder that tools are an extension of the mind but I’m still responsible for the result.
I hope you have some tangible items like this in your collection.
