Let’s Get Physical: What's So Great About Working in a Cubicle?

Children of the '60s and '70s may remember Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Over the course of a 17-day motorcycle trip across the northern United States, Pirsig's narrator uses the relationship between man and bike to reflect on technology and reason.

"The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower," reads a typical passage. Academics dismissed his ideas as New Age bunk. The public bought 4 million copies.

Thirty-five years later, Penguin Press is hoping to repeat Pirsig's success with a new philosopher-mechanic of its own. This month, the publisher will release Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry Into the Value of Work, motorcycle repairman Matthew Crawford's jeremiad against white-collar culture and the educational system designed to populate it.

Crawford, who has a Ph.D. in political thought from the University of Chicago, takes America to task for devaluing skilled manual labor. Trade work, he argues, is more psychologically, financially and intellectually satisfying than the white-collar information-processing jobs for which schools and colleges typically educate their students.

Crawford's book grew out of a piece he wrote for the conservative online journal the New Atlantis in 2006. The essay drew the attention of many, including 100,000 unique visitors on the web and New York Times columnist David Brooks, who named it one of the best of the year. Brooks joined Crawford's condemnation of "the way managers take decision-making authority away from workers, the way parents take decision-making authority away from kids, the way educators close off options without any debate."

By the end of the day that Brooks' column appeared, Crawford's agent had sold his book to Vanessa Mobley, a young editor at Penguin Press known for her way with big ideas.

In person, Crawford manifests the quiet confidence of a guy who got over himself a long time ago. Sitting in the lobby of New York's Roosevelt Hotel this spring, he wears jeans, a pressed navy blue button-down shirt -- tucked in, sleeves rolled -- and clean black suede work boots. At 43, he is inconspicuously fit, clean-shaven with short, wavy brown hair and boyish features.

He has just returned from a meeting with his publishers, bound manuscript in hand. He places it on the coffee table in front of him, along with some cover-photo options. There's a line of dirt and motor oil under his fingernails.

"It would've been nice to have that feeling of finishing," he says of the writing process. "It was done in stages. I was learning up to the last minute." Still, he is pleased with the book. "It's nice to have written something on a topic that people care about rather than some ancient Greek crap," he says.

Skilled labor has been part of Crawford's life since he started doing electrical work at age 14 in the Northern California community where he grew up. As an undergraduate physics major at the University of California, Santa Barbara, he did electrical work to support himself through the summers.

Crawford was an indifferent student until his senior year, when he happened on his roommate's copy of The Closing of the American Mind. Written by University of Chicago classics professor Allan Bloom, the 1987 polemic was an angry, unapologetic defense of high culture. Bloom credited liberal relativism and rock music with the decline of American universities and the degradation of our intellectual life. The book sold close to a million copies and turned a little-known academic into a celebrity.

It's a book Crawford is now wary of associating himself with, given the extreme reactions it often provokes. "It blew me away," he admits, after some hesitation. "Bloom offered a convincing diagnosis of contemporary life by tracing our intellectual genealogy, showing the sources of our confused, taken-for-granted opinions in the works of serious thinkers. It was incredibly liberating and exciting."