In praise of the 'gentleman's knife'

Once upon a time, every gentleman carried a pocketknife -- everywhere he went, every single day.

He didn't have one knife for the office, another for household chores and another for Sunday-afternoon picnics with the family. No, these were the days before everything had to be specialized.

A gentleman had a pocketknife -- one pocketknife.

It was the equivalent of the family doctor, the filling station, the handyman. A gentleman's knife could core an apple, strip insulation from a wire, open an envelope or cut a bouquet of flowers for the missus. And a pocketknife carried by a country gentleman could prepare a fish for the pan or a squirrel for the pot.

A gentleman's knife was a tool, an indispensable device to help a man do what a man was expected to do -- everywhere he went, every single day.

Many of us, even if we have fond memories of the one-and-only pocketknife carried by our dads and granddads, have strayed from such simplicity. Today we have seemingly infinite options, knives of every design and for every purpose, and we must possess a satchelful of options.

We have, as the mountain man said, "grown particular."

At this point you must be scratching your head, wondering if we've lost our mind here. After all, we're in the business of selling you knives, and it's sounding a lot like we're asking you to ditch all of your prized blades in favor of a single slipjoint.

Not at all.

This isn't about knives -- it's about skills. It's about you and me.

For the past few weeks we've been conducting a personal experiment of sorts. We stowed our one-hand-openers and tacticool folders in favor of a basic slipjoint.

Call it throwback, call it retro, whatever -- we just wanted to walk in our elders' footsteps for a while.

The pocketknife we chose for our little experiment was the Northwoods Norfolk Whittler. We purposely picked a smallish slipjoint (3.25" closed) with multiple blades (three) of carbon steel (1095), to mirror what a gent might've carried in times gone by.

We'll admit that our first few days with only a gentleman's knife were something of an adjustment. We noticed that we'd become rather spoiled and ham-fisted over the years, and we had to focus more on how we used the knife than on the knife itself.

So at first, in a variety of everyday tasks, that slowed us down -- we were, in a word, rusty. As we grew accustomed to the feel of the Norfolk Whittler, however, our pace picked up. What's more, we developed an appreciation for the elemental nature of a simple pocketknife.

This is it, we thought. This is why we fell in love with knives in the first place.

Through our exercise we came face-to-face with our forbears, and with the do-it-all attitude that made them worthy of our respect. And we were reminded that we could learn a thing or two from their example.

We humbly suggest that you conduct your own experiment with a gentleman's knife, especially if you've "grown particular." It's one thing to insist on having the right tool for a particular job, but it's quite another to rely on the tools rather than on our skills.

So try it -- trust us, you'll be a better knife knut for the experience.

(We're still carrying that Northwoods Norfolk Whittler, by the way -- for old times' sake, you understand.)