The year was 1994 and I was working on the set of “Senior Trip”, a rowdy teen film produced by that most venerable of all rowdy teen producers: National Lampoon. Like most American movies in the 1990’s this one was being shot in Canada where the bland architecture of Canadian cities bears a striking resemblance to the bland architecture of American cities, and at a time when 65 American cents could buy 1 Canadian dollar, it was well worth the bother for large productions to travel north. We had been working long hours on the grungy sex motel set where the hapless teens in the film were to accidently find themselves when the bus driver (played by none other than Tommy Chong) takes a wrong turn. The day before principle photography was to begin the producers came around for a final set check. Everything seemed fine until it was noticed that Robertson head screws had been used on all the door hinges. Nothing could proceed until all the Robertsons had been removed.
In Canada the square head of the Robertson has become the screw of choice, but for a film set that was masquerading as an American location, the screw head was a dead give away. In America it is the X of the Philips screw that dominates. The thought that the stoned teenagers watching this movie might be jarred from their inebriated states by the passing sight of a Canadian screw head is amusing to say the least. Or could it be that the Robertson head screw is simply more powerful than I thought?
Since the first known use of a metal screw in 1513, the head has consistently been a single diagonal line known as the Slot head or Flat head. This is the easiest sort of incision to produce because it can be cut after the screw is manufactured, but the design is severely flawed due to the high rate of slippage and the subsequent damage this can cause to the surface being screwed down. Slot heads also have a tendency to strip easily and are difficult to remove once a few coats of paint have been applied or a bit of rust sets in.
It took almost 400 years for the metal screw to evolve to the next level. In 1908, after a particularly nasty accident with a slot head screwdriver, the Canadian machinist, Peter Lymburner Roberston came up with an alternative design. A perfect square centered in the round head of the screw proved to be the logical solution to all of the Slot head’s problems.
Not only is the Roberston self-centering, but its design allows the screw to be placed snugly on the tip of the screwdriver making it possible to apply with one hand. This snug fit also prevents the sort of cam-out that causes Slot head and Philips screwdrivers to pop out unexpectedly once the screw is driven home. The solid shape of the Robertson also prevents the sort of striping that occurs in other designs when impatient handymen with over-torqued power tools needlessly blast away at misfit screws.
Of course it’s not just the Slot head and the Philips that comprise the competition, there’s a whole array of alternatives including the Cross-slot, the Hex socket, the Lox driver, the Tampruf, the Poxidriv, the Offset Cruciform, the Notched Spanner (similar to the Twin Groove), the PoziSquare-drive, the Quadrex and the Recex, the Holt head, the Torx, the Pin-in Pentalobular socket Torx Plus (and of course just the regular Pentalobular socket Torx), the Hexalobular socket, the Tri-wing, the Torq-set, the Snake Eye, the Spline drive and the Double Hex to name a few.
Amid all the noise and confusion of alternative screw heads, there is a beautiful simplicity to the Robertson that goes unrivaled. It is the ideal fusion of geometry’s two most basic and enduring forms, not only recalling the circle and square of da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man of 400 years earlier, but preceeding (dare I say, ‘influencing’?) Kasimir Malevich’s Suprematist abstract masterpieces of 1915.
So the question remains: Why has the Robertson not managed to secure a stronger foothold throughout the world? Why is its popularity limited to Canada and a small number of specialty industries? When the Robertson was first introduced it enjoyed a great deal of popularity. Each Model T manufactured in Canada was held together by about 700 Robertsons. Using Robertsons reduced the production time on each vehicle so significantly that Henry Ford wanted to use them on his American assembly lines as well. Ford, however, didn’t want to just buy the screws, he wanted to buy the rights as well, and when Roberson refused to sell, Ford turned to Philips, and it appears America (and the world) has never looked back.
Over the years there has been a slow increase in the availability of Robertsons in the rest of the world, but overall the Robbie still sits largely on the periphery. In 2000 the architectural historian Witold Rybczynski was asked by the New York Times to name the best tool of the millennium. He chose the screwdriver (and it’s constant companion the screw) as the best new tool of the last thousand years. In the book that followed (One Good Turn: A Natural History of the Screwdriver and the Screw) Rybczynski openly confesses to being a Robertson user. Obviously, the best tool of the millennium isn’t just any screwdriver, it’s a Robertson.
There is something oddly reassuring about the slow and steady evolution of this remarkable piece of technology. In a time when entire technologies rise and then fall into obscurity like pop songs, here is one that is still undergoing a hundred year update. At the moment it could be argued that the Robertson head screw is sitting somewhere close to obsolescence; enjoying unbridled popularity only among the 0.4% of the world’s population that makes up Canada. It may take a while, but it’s just a matter of time before the beauty and simplicity of this tiny, perfect square reaches everyone.
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