Introducing the Budge-Not: Proof that Great Inventions Can Still Happen Outside Corporate Research Labs, and with No Government Assistance

One of the claims made by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson in their excellent book Abundance is hat the end of the nineteenth century was also the end of the era in which “science and invention [were] largely a job for solo entrepreneurs, … individual thinkers who, through trial and error, cobbled their way toward a product that—initially, barely—worked.” According to Klein and Thompon, Thomas Edison’s corporate research lab—and, eventually, the advent of government funding to encourage new research—became the new model.

That may be largely true, but the many exceptions are worthy of note. Famously, the post-it note was the result of Art Fry thinking of taking advantage of his colleague Spencer Silver’s mistake (an adhesive that was a lot less strong than Silver had wanted) and fashioning reusable sticky bookmarks for his hymn book. But the two men both worked for 3M and Silver’ mistake was the result of 3M-funded research, so I suppose one could claim that the example still adheres to the “corporate research lab” model.

Not so for the modern veggie burger, which apparently was invented in 1982 by Gregory Sams, who together with his brother ran a macrobiotic natural foods restaurant in London. Not so for the invention of vertical farming in 1999 (by Dickson Despommier of Columbia University). Not so for the invention of the paint roller—around 1940, by Norman Breakey, who never patented his invention. Not so for the frequency-shifting device invented by actress Hedy Lamarr (an ancestor of modern wi-fi and GPS technology).

And not so for the budge-not, invented around 2015—by me!

The phrase "budge not," of course, was invented not by me but by William Shakespeare; I can take no credit whatsoever for that. It’s from The Merchant of Venice; Shylock’s amusing servant, Lancelet Gobbo (“good Gobbo, good Lancelet Gobbo”) is debating with himself as to whether or not he should remain in Shylock’s service or run away:

GOBBO: … my conscience says “Lancelet, budge not.” “Budge,” says the fiend. “Budge not,” says my conscience. “Conscience,” say I, “you counsel well.” “Fiend,” say I, “you counsel well.” To be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew …

The budge-not as an invention is designed as a safety device. What to do when you need to work on a ladder but the ground slopes? The old way was to put a shim under one side of the ladder. Or two shims, or three, depending on how much the ground sloped. But that’s inherently unstable; the slightest wobble and everything may give way. For decades I followed this approach, and had numerous near escapes. Then, about ten years ago, the light went on, and soon after I had hammered together the world’s first budge-not.

The budge-not brings stability to laddering on a slope; the bottom of the budge-not is angled to match the angle of the slope, while the top is flat—with a 2x6 nailed on, to brace the ladder against. That ladder’s not going nowhere! For added stability an optional boulder may be added to the budge-not (see photos).

Me, on ladder supported by budge-not. Note the boulder. (Photo by Maureen)

Close-up of budge-not. (Photo by Maureen)
















Note that there is a 2x6 mailed to each side of the budge-not; this enables the budge-not to be used on either side of our house (or, indeed, on either side of any house built on sloping ground).

Notice as well the shim inserted under the budge-not, to make the angle just right; with the full weight of the budge-not pressing down on it, that shim’s not budging one bit!

Like Norman Breakey with his paint roller, I have decided not to patent the budge-not; anyone anywhere may build their own budge-not, and profit by it, cutting the wood at whatever angle is appropriate to the slope on which their house is built. Or, indeed, any enterprising soul can start their own budge-not factory, making adjustable-angle budge-nots for the masses—adjustable for any angle of slope.

One can imagine a thriving budge-not factory, and budge-not variants too. You'd of course want a basic model--the Budget Budge-not, you would have to call it--but you'd want some premium and luxury models too. The Good Gobbo, for example, might be available in different colors and come with a lifetime guarantee.

It’s easy as well to imagine marketing opportunities for budge-not add-ons; be bolder with a boulder for your budge-not, and so on and so forth. For now, though, the concept of the budge-not—and the opportunity to build one yourself—will have to suffice.