We finally moved into our new E4X Toronto digs last night, and thus spent the night doing what all small tech companies do when they move into a new office–drinking beer and assembling a mountain of IKEA furniture.

Somewhere between the boardroom/dining table and the desk in Pod 4, it crystallized for me that there is clearly someone at IKEA whose full-time job is to edit perfectly useful assembly instructions to the point where they’re sufficiently vague and confusing.

I envision the Product Designer creating full, complete, thorough documentation that has rich images, diagrams, and textual descriptions of how their furniture design should be assembled.

Next, I envision the Instructions Editor reducing 23 steps to 8 steps, removing all text, deleting labels like ‘top’, ‘bottom’, ‘inside’, ‘outside’, ‘left’, ‘right’, ‘finished’, ‘unfinished’, etc.  They may, in exceptional cases, add things like streaky lines with indeterminable meaning, and substitute part illustrations so that it is impossible to distinguish between Screw A and Screw D (both of which I have 24).

To top it all off, a few years ago the Instructions Editor evidentally thought things were getting a little too easy, and so decided to remove all required tools from the package except for the Allen Keys (I’d also love to meet this Allen Guy in a dark alley somewhere, but that’s another post).  So now, not only are the instructions impossible to follow, but they send you scrambling for an assortment of screwdrivers, wrenches, and hammers (some of which are actually needed, while others are just for giggles) before you can even get started.

There is NO doubt in my mind that this Instructions Editor derives immeasurable pleasure and satisfaction from his/her vocation.  Of course, if I had this job, I would never be able to tell my friends and family what I do for a living.  But I would surely see looks on faces of those in my life on a daily basis that reaffirm how well I’m doing my job.

He has garnered an incredible amount of media attention on an international scale with next to no outbound PR activity.  Just goes to show how an honest, original, compelling story is still natural news.  Refreshing in this day and age when PR propoganda rules the news media roost.

For something far more interesting, creative, and mutually rewarding along the same lines you should read about Kyle MacDonald, a resourceful Canadian who set out on July 12, 2005 to barter his way from one red paperclip to a new house.  Quite the trail of adventures and trades already, including his current offer of spending one afternoon with the esteemed Alice Cooper.

I was at a pool hall with my brother the
other night, and the General Tao chicken I had for dinner earlier that
evening wasn’t exactly sitting well.

While sitting on this establishment’s Throne of Contemplation and setting a new high score on Rooster,
I eventually got around to reaching for the toilet paper dispenser on
the wall. To my sudden disappointment, I saw one of those massive rolls
of unnecessarily thin, unnecessarily narrow SINGLE-ply toilet paper
that looks and feels more like tissue paper.

It occurred to me that it had be a reasonably long time since I had
seen this type of low budget toilet paper in a bathroom stall. I began
to wonder why. After all, what public place doesn’t want to be
financially prudent? Why wouldn’t every public bathroom be stocked with
the less expensive supplies?

And then I answered my own question with a question: Is it really a cost saving measure to stock your facilities with single-ply toilet paper?

I know that the cost per roll is far less than softer, thicker, more
comforting two-ply (or on rare decadent occasions, THREE-ply) toilet
paper. But it’s not like I’m willing to risk a "poke-through" or a
"slip-aside" just to save the bar or restaurant 10 cents.

Regardless of the width or thickness of the paper available, I am
going to ensure that my hand is sufficiently protected with a thick,
strong layer of tissue before I wipe. So will everyone else who sits in
that stall. When I see the cheap one-ply stock I tear off strips long
enough to mummify myself from fingertip to wrist!

So at the end of the day, I’m using 3 or 4 times as much ‘length’ of
a budget single-ply roll as I would be if standard two-ply was on hand.
The cost to the establishment is the same, if not more, for the amount
of paper I use.

That isn’t the only fall-out either. Not only is the business losing
money because I’m using more paper, they have also shown me that they
have very little interest in making sure that my customer experience is
a comfortable one. If I had to choose between two otherwise identical
bars or restaurants, I would choose the one with more comfortable
customer experience 100% of the time. Therefore, providing single-ply
toilet paper is also putting this business at a competitive
disadvantage.

So it is in this context that I propose the following theory:

The net financial outcome of purchasing single-ply toilet paper for
your public bathroom as a function of a) direct cost savings, and 2)
impact on customer experience, is negative.

Therefore, it stands that by investing in two-ply toilet paper your business should be more profitable.