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AMONG all the invented things on Earth, somehow the mousetrap has the distinction of representing them all. There has long been implicit agreement that existing mousetraps are wanting, and making a better one promises to bring the world to the inventor’s door. An endless succession of redesigned mousetraps, patented or not, have made it to the market. Is there no end to the reinvention of even so simple a thing?

The answer is, decidedly, no. Every invention involves compromise, and compromise results in imperfection. One better mousetrap may be surer but not neater. Another may be neater but not cheaper. Another cheaper but not surer. There is an illusion of proceeding from good to better to best. In the realm of invention, the mantra should be only: good, better, better. There can be progress, but not perfection.

The incessant march of technology’s evolution is the subject of David Nye’s very readable book. It is written in the form of questions and expansive answers, which read like a primer (if not a discursive catechism) on what historians of technology have been thinking about over the half-century or so since their field was formalised. One of the striking effects of Nye’s treatment is that it leads the reader to the incontrovertible conclusion that the answers to questions about technology evolve no less than technology itself. This is hardly surprising: thinking and writing about technology can be as creative a pursuit as inventing.

Nye begins and ends with the observation that there has always been, and likely always will be, a symbiotic relationship between people and technology. In between, he elaborates on the we/it relationship, posing questions and setting forth answers regarding the definition, control, predictability and scholarly understanding of technology, as well as the cultural, social, environmental, political and psychological contexts in which it exists. Technology can be defined in many ways (Nye devotes 15 pages to the question), but regardless of the definition, technology and theories about it are human creations. Anything that can be created can also be criticised, and criticism is a catalyst for change. This is the way both tangible and intangible things evolve.

Deliberate creation always involves a problem of design, or more likely one of redesign when the problem is posed in the context of some existing thing, as it usually is. The existing thing serves as a reference against which the newer version can be judged. By focusing on the shortcomings of the old, the inventor of the new can tout his design as a clear improvement. The successfully redesigned thing often displaces the old one, until it becomes the object of criticism itself and is displaced by something newer.

There can be no totally reliable model for success in this process. Indeed, emulating successful design is fraught with danger. Mere copying offers no advantage. There is an expectation among both inventors and consumers (and writers and readers) that any iteration on a successful design will surpass its predecessor in some way. Yet to do so demands that changes be made, and any change runs the risk of destroying the synergy that made the original design successful in the first place.

“Failures provide evidence of what not to do next time”

The more reliable way to achieve success is to focus on failure, both retrospectively in existing things and prospectively in the design of new things. Failures provide irrefutable evidence of what not to do the next time around. This is as true in building bridges as it is in theorising about technology and in writing books. By showing very clearly how the answers to the questions he poses have evolved over time, Nye provides some excellent examples of this development process.