I like R-ing the F-ing Manual

Look lets all just pretend that I haven’t ignored this blog for a few months and I post updates like this all the time, okay? Good. Thanks.

Yesterday I got a new bike. Not anything too fancy, but it’s quite a nice one and more than I’d have been able to afford if it wasn’t for the tax-free bike scheme being run by my employer.

It’s nice to have something big and new and “mine”. I’ve not bought anything major for myself since Tom was born, long gone are the days when I’d shell out for a new gadget on a whim and worry about the finances later.

One of the biggest pleasures of buying a New Thing of any variety, I think you’ll agree, is the bit where you sit down to have a proper read of the manual. Not before you’ve had a play with it, of course. You’d have to be made of stone (or possibly, a woman) to not have a good muck about with a new toy – and possibly break it a little bit because you don’t know what you’re doing – before sitting down with the manual to find out what you’re supposed to be doing.

But these days, I find, the manual is one area where manufacturers really let themselves down. They see the manual as a extra, not part of the product experience, as it should be.

Take, for example, the manual that came with my new bike. It was a one-size-fits-all manual written for the manufacturer’s entire range of bikes. Virtually everything from a child’s trike to one of those things that are designed for elegantly falling down mountains.

Half of the book, presumably on the advice of their lawyers, is dedicated to safety. It starts off with this chestnut:

Many of the Warnings and Cautions say “you may lose control and fall”. Because any fall can result in seriously injury or even death, we do not repeat the warning of possible injury or death.

Which is great because it’s bad enough wading through 10 pages of safety information without being constantly reminded of the ever-present spectre of Death.

Another section about riding safely, which I’ve edited for brevity’s sake, says:

Look ahead, be ready to avoid: vehicles slowing, turning, entering the road, coming up behind you, parked cars opening doors, pedestrians, children, pets, pot holes, sewer gratings, railroad tracks, expansion joints, road or sidewalk constructions…

… at this point the lawyers walked in on the manual’s author and pointed out that they’d had a brainstorming session and come up with another 5000 hazards, and the manual was going to need to be 300 pages thick, so he decided it would easier just to add…

The many other hazards and distractions which can occur on a bicycle ride.

After reading that lot I don’t want to leave the house, let alone get on a bike.

Then we get on to the meat of the manual, what can my bike actually do? This is where the one-size-fits-all mentality of the manufacturer kicks in.

Your new human-powered vehicle may have anything between one to three wheels. Depending on the make and model that you have purchased, it may be fitted with any of the following: gears, pedals, a saddle, a butler, anti-aircraft missiles, Spokey Dokeys.

Okay so I made that up, but it’s essential the style of the manual. Try and tell you everything about every bike, and end up telling you nothing about your bike. When they should be taking you by the hand and showing you, with maybe a bit of passion, all the neat little features and clever advances in bike tech that explain why it’s 10 times more expensive than your first Raleigh Grifter.

Because, call me a geek, but I want to know that kind of stuff.