Barriers To Entry
Are the barriers to entry for the craft too high? That was a concern expressed in an email I received recently. At first I was inclined to agree but the more I thought about it, I would have to say no. In fact, I suggest they’ve never been lower.
When a ready-to-run locomotive with a DCC decoder is simply taken from a box, how many of you would remove the flash and finish machine raw castings on a locomotive kit? How many would locate, drill and tap holes for machine screws, quarter your own drivers and assemble all those pieces with solder and a torch because that was the only way to have a working model? Anybody still wind your own motor armatures?
In an age of flextrack that is available in multiple rail sizes, how many would handlay plain track just to have a circle to run something on? How many would scratchbuild or cobble together enough cars from crude kits to make a train because that was the only way to have one?
Scenery? What scenery? There wasn’t enough time left to worry about scenery.
In the distant past, these were the barriers to entry for anyone that wanted an operating layout.
In an age of flextrack that is available in multiple rail sizes, how many would handlay plain track just to have a circle to run something on?
With all the conveniences at our disposal today, such effort seems inconceivable to our I-want-it-now-and-want-it-cheap culture. Indeed, the majority of hobbyists would look for something, anything that is easier than what hobbyists of even thirty years ago had to endure.
While entering the generic hobby has never been easier, my friend was actually thinking about layout design and the barrier that the typical basement-sized expression represents. Here, we agree because he has an excellent point.
Although I have no hard numbers to back it up, I suspect that layouts built in a spare bedroom or as a shelf along a wall or two, far outnumber the basement filling empires routinely featured in Model Railroader or Model Railroad Planning. As a newcomer looking at those huge installations, you might be intimidated or maybe inspired.
You also might be overwhelmed. Those oh-so polished dream layouts are the result of a team of people, or one person working alone and represent an incalculable amount of work over years, even decades of spare time. As much as we lionize these huge layouts, the reality for many of us is far different. What if you don’t have free reign in a 2500 square foot basement or the resources to fill it if you do? Personal budgets, family obligations and work schedules all make demands that need to be meet. What does this craft offer those whose resources or skills are nowhere close to such aspirations?
Could the biggest barrier to entering the craft be our own increasingly ridiculous expectations for what makes a satisfying layout?
We take the idea of building a huge layout for granted and chase that vision like the Holy Grail, never questioning the wisdom of it. I wonder though, if it is time to challenge this rigid ideal?
I am aware that such questions fly in the face of some deeply held beliefs. I am not suggesting that a large layout is wrong but it isn’t the right choice for everyone and, I do wonder what those who oppose such questions are afraid of? Is it really so threatening to consider a different view of the craft?
There are always people who spare no expense in pursuit of their dreams and if you have such resources available, then more power to you I guess. However, with all the changes in society over the last thirty to forty years, is the basement empire ideal sustainable given the demands it makes on the builder? Is that the vision that defines the craft for all time? When it comes to some of the sacred cows of modeling, why do we feel that change is a bad thing instead of an opportunity to explore something new that could be even better? This craft is built on change, so why do we assume the future will look the same as it did fifty years ago or even today?
Regards,
Mike
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Mike,
If you don’t want much, and are prepared to make things, then there aren’t really any barriers to entry. Certainly, with key components for track, and Proto wheels available (at least for H0 and 0) via trade supplies, it is possible to build a high quality small layout without any major problems.
It is also possible to build a large operations-focused layout in H0 or N, based largely on ready to run equipment.
The difficulty comes when trying to build a large layout to the highest possible standards. Not impossible, but one needs to be wealthy with plenty of free time, and extremely dedicated!
At the end of the day, it boils down to the usual questions: what do we want to achieve, and how realistic is that, given the personal circumstances?
Simon
“Are the barriers to entry for the craft too high?”
Depends on what you mean by “the craft.” If you mean “accessibility to quality models by any means,” then yes the barriers are lower than ever before. There are more accurate, ready-to-roll models than ever before.
If you mean “accessibility to quality models through craftsmanship”, then the answer is partially yes and partially no. On the “yes, the barrier is higher” side: Walking into a hobby shop and picking up an entry-level model railroad kit is increasingly difficult these days. The stuff targeted at beginners is almost exclusively ready-to-run. Intermediate kits are even harder to find. I can usually find some advanced kits (resin, wood & cast metal, etc.), but those are hardly something that a person with no modeling skills would feel comfortable with as a first kit. The number of parts manufacturers is dwindling, which means that the barrier to building something unique by collecting the bits and pieces necessary and then applying them to a model is actually higher than in decades past. Also, the knowledge base of guys who did that stuff is shrinking, so finding someone to mentor you is growing more difficult as most modelers don’t really practice craftsmanship in that way anymore.
Having said that, on the “no, the barrier is lower” side: Hobbyists have lower-cost access to computer-aided design (CAD) tools like laser cutting and 3D printing. This makes making your own unique parts easier than ever before. Many folks (including myself) would feel more comfortable learning how to scratchbuild a headlight casing from a mentor than trying to learn how to design one in CAD, but many would rather let the computer do the difficult work of fashioning something out of plastic. We can argue whether this constitutes “craftsmanship” or not, but the CAD tools allow you to learn one approach that can generate almost anything you need for a model railroad. That’s a lower barrier.
“Could the biggest barrier to entering the craft be our own increasingly ridiculous expectations for what makes a satisfying layout?”
Yes. Definitely. While this certainly applies to the beginner who reads the model press and convinces himself that he “doesn’t have enough space or monetary resources for this,” this also applies to beginners who do have the space and money. Convincing such a beginner that his expectations are beyond his current skills and abilities is a difficult sell. I have several friends in this situation who have embarked on 400-1,000 sq.ft. layouts as their first efforts with varying outcomes. Mostly they’re learning hard lessons about what they would’ve done differently, but feel like they’re in too deep to change or go back. Will their failures on the grandiose scale result in them leaving the hobby? That remains to be seen.
I think a contributing problem is that almost every small layout article contains some phrase about how the builder would like to have more space, but was forced to settle for what he has. While the small layout may be satisfying in itself, the owner isn’t satisfied and the connotation is that you shouldn’t be either. I’d love to read an article where the owner is obviously satisfied with his modest-sized (<150 sq.ft.) layout design and is working to improve certain aspects without the mention of want of more space.
For myself, I model a railroad that had locomotives that will need to be scratch built in any scale. I've consigned myself to this fact and look forward to learning the skills necessary to pull it off. However, I also want to model the interactions between trains and their customers in a realistic way. I'm finding that there are some minimum layout space requirements for this sort of action. I also desire models that move like the real thing, i.e. models that have enough mass to rock and sway. This begs for a larger scale to pull it off.
Are those expectations ridiculous or unrealistic? Maybe. I'm fortunate to have a large room to attempt this in 1:64 scale. But if you strike any one of my three requirements, a layout design that satisfies the other two could easily be built in a modest space.
Rhett,
I guess I should define the way I’m using the word craft. I use it to describe an activity that involves a high level of creative skill and aesthetic judgment. In other words, you have something to say about trains and or railroading and you’re using modeling as a mean to express it. I use this definition to distinguish my approach from generic modeling where one is just copying or doing things willy-nilly. Like other art forms, railroad modeling encompasses both, the difference is the mindset of the modeler.
When you touched on the idea that beginners run into reality with a large project, that is what my friend was thinking of. It’s easy to look at a 2000 square foot basement and dream of filling it with a layout but another thing entirely to pull it off, even for an experienced modeler. And you’re right, implicit in many articles is the notion that a smaller layout is never satisfactory and equally implicit is that a monster layout project just falls into place without a lot of effort on anybody’s part. The text invariably reads: “Well, I built the benchwork, then laid the track, did the scenery, built a few buildings and rolling stock then, poof! There it was, all done.” Most of us know it isn’t that simple.
Another line of thinking I often hear is that we can’t expect too much from people today. Granted, we’re all busy and distracted but why do we believe people are dumb and helpless? I’ve looked at other forms of model building and different activities based on hand skills like woodworking, pottery and so on. I may be making a gross generalization here but model railroading is the only one that thinks people have to be spoon fed and are unwilling or incapable of doing advanced work. Who decided that model railroading gets a free pass in the pursuit of excellence?
Mike
Rhett,
You make interesting points about space. I currently have about 140 sq. feet at my disposal (interesting that to you this is modest), yet find myself thinking seriously about building a small, portable layout with a total footprint of about 14 sq. feet, of which about 60% would be “visible”, the remainder being staging.
Why? It is a more realistic objective just now. It’s not that I don’t have ideas for the larger space, but at the current stage of my life, a smaller layout stands a reasonable chance of being up and running within a year, and finished scenically within two.
Mike,
You may be making a gross generalisation, but I am with you on that.
I suspect that we are in a minority over this issue.
I often wonder if there are two ultimately different but superficially similar hobbies: one is about building the models which typically go on a layout (and which may be operated prototypically), and the other is primarily about creating a layout on which to run trains – correct operation is a subset of this latter. The interesting thing to me is that the barriers to entry are both quite low. The high-quality RTR now available makes assembling an operational fairly straightforward, and the best of these models are also a great way to start a smaller, more bespoke, layout whilst building up the skills and confidence to make the specific, not available in any scale, models that are the ultimate aim.
Simon
With regard to understanding what “craft” refers to, as I read through this post I wondered if a part of our collective problem is that we think craft and associate that in terms with the individual models – the structure, engines, the rolling stock. We don’t think of the entire layout itself as a model too. It might be the inverse of the problem with regard to traditional art forms. We can create a painting or sculpture and immediately we’re focused on the “big picture” but mature, as artists, in how we learn to present the minutiae of the work. Part by instinct and part by cultural influence, do we model railroaders need to learn to view the model railroad itself as our ultimate body of work and to invest in it as carefully as we used to do, the component parts?
We’re so far removed from the many barriers to entry that every generation of modeler before us faced that our great challenge now is the lack of real work to be done. The model trains work so darned well right out of the box and represent prototypes we never thought we’d see in miniature. It’s a culture shift getting used to not having to fight to get something that worked and now to think in terms of what we’ll do with all this potential.
There’s so much great help at the component level but little to help correlate it together. Perhaps that’s the barrier?
Cheers
/chris
I’m just replying to myself. Not sure how to avoid this…
A reflection on the books, magazines, and websites I’ve enjoyed and continue to enjoy today are great at sharing how to do “X” such as how to design the most fluid transition curve or the most efficient turnout arrangements. Lots of superb help on installing DCC sound or building to finescale standards. So, now what?
We abandon the modeler with challenges like “Decide what era you’d like to model” or “It’s your layout and you get to choose”. We help him dig the analysis-paralysis hole even deeper when we fight over how complicated a layout should or shouldn’t be. The quality of advice in what is out there is high but it can’t bridge that void in helping to understand how to make it all into a layout. I can’t find the advice for this. I feel like I sort of “get it” in terms of how to compose this and the role of design in craft so perhaps it is my responsibility to offer help. Perhaps that “I” is part of a greater “we”?
It’s not a matter of telling the modeler what to do. It shouldn’t nor ever will be. It’s breaking down the amazing layout in terms of what it’s builder was trying to do with it and maybe why it works as well as it does in terms of success. Mike, you shared a copy of a video from a series titled Benjamin Zander’s Masterclass (easy seach on Youtube) in which the host breaks down classical music to help explain (a) how to break the music down so you know where the emotion is and (b) how to connect with your audience so you can feel it together.
Mr. Zander’s advice was for classical music but every bit directly applicable to model railways.
/chris
How do you guys always know when I’m out of the office for the day? 😉
Mike
Chris,
I think you have touched on the core issue facing the craft today. You’re right, the historic barriers to entry of just getting enough equipment operational are gone for good. Now a simple layout can be assembled virtually off the shelf over a weekend. So your question of what do we do with all this potential is an excellent one. In my view, this is where the generic hobby fails miserably with its emphasis on if you’re bored, then buy more stuff, which is a poor substitute for exploring the real depth this craft has to offer people. In my view, the current state of the art is solely focused on components rather than a cohesive approach to overall design, including the presentation of the layout itself.
I agree that no one is here to dictate to others, but in many cases, operation drives design more than anything. How else does one justify two foot wide aisles, having to use a step stool to reach something on an upper deck, layouts that are built in a manner that they have to be destroyed in order to move them and other silliness that ignores the human factors? When one looks at this behavior objectively, serious questions start to come forward, at least they did for me and I sense I’m not along or unique in asking them.
To Simon’s point earlier, I for one, don’t see a divide between fine model building and operating those models in a realistic setting and manner and I know he doesn’t either. There are those who wish to polarize things in that way but I don’t see it. I do see a divide between those who understand realistic limitations and those who engage in fantasies where layout design is concerned. I see a divide between those who have the strength and conviction to understand what they truly want from the craft and those who let themselves get suckered into building somebody else’s vision, only to wind up frustrated after considerable cost and wasted time. Their stories make me wonder what the hell are we doing to ourselves?
I”m generalizing again but I feel we are so poorly equipped to have this conversation, that most of us don’t even know where to begin. As ground breaking as the V&O series was for example, it too focused on the components. I wonder how many actually understood what that series was really saying? You mentioned Ben Zander’s Masterclass videos. What you see in those is a gifted teacher passing a lifetime worth of wisdom and experience. The students are all technically excellent musicians, yet they don’t understand the emotional depth the composers poured into the music. What Mr. Zander does is open that door for them and to watch the light go on in their faces is a wonderful thing to see.
I believe with all my heart there is far more to this craft than what we’ve ever realized. The longer I practice it, the more convinced of that I become.
Apologies for the profanity as needed.
Mike
This is one of those threads I’m going to wish I had saved. We’re touching on some really worthwhile points here.
We often praise this hobby as a social one and I’m inclined to agree. We’re learning to teach our peers about the practical skills required to make the model but still learning how to pass the inspiration from one generation of modeler to the next. Mike, your excellent summary of what Mr. Zander was doing in his Masterclass series caused me to wonder this and I wonder what we could do to help invite a current master to communicate the inspiration he found to another without training the student to “just do it my way because it’s the only way it’s done”?
Part of that education includes how we educate our audience to appreciate our work. As much as our focus could be on learning to view our work as craft but then also to teach others to see it that way too. In educating our audience we help them to discover what makes a layout work creatively. This way he learns to breathe that life into his own work instead of just copying that of another and hoping that the creativity happens by accident instead of by design.
Cheers
/chris
“Part of that education includes how we educate our audience to appreciate our work.”
Hi Chris,
I think it is more fundamental than that. I believe we have to educate ourselves on how to appreciate the work before we can help others understand it. This is a difficult task because the general hobby oriented mentality is the biggest stumbling block we have to navigate. When we have to counter a throw-away mindset toward the work, and a “good enough” mindset toward pursuing quality, we’re fighting an uphill battle and, as I’m often admonished by my critics, a losing battle.
I have a theory it all began to go south when high quality modeling was no longer a routine feature in the magazines. When scratchbuilding began to be treated as the last choice resort, because a close-enough commercial model isn’t available. When, as you suggested in a previous comment, we no longer have to “work” just to have the basics of an operating layout. It reminds me of the wisdom we often try to teach our children, that we value things more when we have to work for them. Could the abundance of choice at our fingertips have reduced our view to that of a commodity instead of a craft? I think the answer is self-evident.
How do you change this? One person at a time, by modeling the language, behavior and quality of work you want to see. This is why I’m so specific in my choice of words. Words convey meaning and ideas. “It’s just a hobby.” carries a clear message. “I just like to play with my trains.” carries an equally clear message. “Don’t worry about detail you can’t see from three feet away.” speaks loud and clear.
If this is the manner we communicate to each other with, why do we expect our communication to others to be any different? If we are going to wink and grin at the inside jokes about chainsaw layouts and the other silliness that permeates the generic hobby, then we have received the outcome we want.
Mike
PS: To whom it may concern, PRESENTATION MATTERS! If you don’t give a damn about how you present your work, then why should I give a damn about it?