Every gift my mom gave me from the time I was about 30 years old onward was something I had left at her house when I moved out. She called it “shopping in the basement.” All the things she’s given back have been meaningful, but one object was in particular—this Brown & Sharpe vernier caliper, which I use for precise measurements. I purchased it some 40 years ago when I wasa graduate student and teacher’s assistant in the engineering department at Stanford, and around that time, I built a custom walnut box for a class project.

For an engineer, the vernier caliper is amazing. It measures to one thousandth of an inch, accurately and repeatedly. By holding this piece of metal, I become more capable—it’s like an extension of my hand. I don’t design much these days, so part of my job now is to teach my students at the d.school how to use the caliper so they’ll be more effective, efficient, and successful with creative projects.

This caliper lives on my desk, but I often carry it with me to share it with people outside the school, too. There was one time in a restaurant where I had everyone at the table learning what a dial caliper is instead of talking about the asparagus. I’ve also given many as gifts and can picture the faces of people I’ve given them to. Maybe they’d expected a Loro Piana sweater or a piece of jewelry, but they get a caliper. They’re puzzled at first, and then they learn how to use it and how satisfying it is. I get sentimental about other things, like a matchbox I got from my grandmother, but it feels different to bring a tool into other people’s lives.

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