There was little chance of Archimedes losing his screw; things are very different today, reflects Matthew Partridge.
This week I had to fix some equipment. It wasn’t a big fix, a lever had fallen out of alignment with its little sensor and needed moving 2mm back in place, so the software would stop claiming that the lever had vanished from the face of the earth. This fix took me around four hours: opening the box (three minutes), moving the sensor (30 seconds), watching one of the screws fall onto the floor (five seconds), scr abbling around trying to find the stupid screw (three hours, 56 minutes and 35 seconds... ish). No time is included for putting the panel back on because the screw remains missing, and the sensor is now operating ‘alfresco’.
Given this, I think it’s fair to say that I suspect that tiny screws are ruining my life.
Now, I hope you understand that I do appreciate they are invaluable little things, very well-designed at screwing two things together. As technology has grown more compact and smaller, screw technology has obviously worked hard to keep up and screws have got smaller and more compact to match. I’m sure, as you read this, within arm’s length you can see five different devices that are only possible because of them. But with great smallness comes great ability to get lost, and with what I suspect is malicious intent, they do.
They are so tiny that no amount of careful placement can save them. A jumper sleeve, a light breeze or a slightly overcharged static surface nearby and off the table they jump into something akin to the screw equivalent of the backrooms. Of course, losing tiny screws is only the first problem. The next is caused by actually finding them.
This is now where I find myself. In a world where there are tiny screws missing from equipment all around me, and an ever-growing large box of tiny screws that fit no equipment I’ve ever owned
It’s rare that you find the screw at the same time you drop it. But it’s not uncommon that for every screw you search for, you find 2-3 previously lost ones. This appears to break the laws of conservation, but tiny screws don’t concern themselves with such silly things.
Having spent so much time searching, you know how important any found screws might be, even if they might be the one you are looking for. So, into a draw of other assorted tiny screws you are keeping ‘just in case’ these re-found screws go. Slowly building up a giant collection. None will ever work as a replacement for your newly lost tiny screw, they are inexplicably unique to whatever they were holding together.
This is now where I find myself. In a world where there are tiny screws missing from equipment all around me, and an ever-growing large box of tiny screws that fit no equipment I’ve ever owned. I fear that I am now doomed to spend hours searching for even more tiny screws and constantly simultaneously searching for ever bigger boxes to put the tiny screws I have.
While writing this article I realised a small screw is missing from the bottom of my MacBook... if you have a 0.8mm screw with a star-shaped head in your own giant box of tiny screws, please do get in touch. Maybe together we can beat them.
Dr Matthew Partridge is a researcher, cartoonist and writer who runs the outreach blog errantscience.com and is editor of our sister title, Lab Horizons
