When I research makers of finer drum sticks, mallets and accessories, one of the things I want to know is where and how a thing is made, and by whom.
It's great if the thing is made by the person who designs it, because that means it's more likely a small-batch, craft-made thing, like drum sticks by folks like John Crocken and the guys at LA Backbeat.
When a thing is very fine quality and high-zoot in design and price, but is not made by the designer, finding out who makes it can be a LOT harder and sometimes impossible. AND if I ask too pointedly or specifically, a designer can get downright nasty about it. (See my article from earlier this year about Revolution practice pads for an example.)
Looking at manufacturing practices tells me if the thing is sustainably and humanely produced. And that in turn tells me something about the mindset of the designer of said product, and where they stand on such things as a businessperson. I have the right as a consumer to ask these questions, but they also have the right to withhold information.
Well, I reached out and asked the designer of a very fine line of sticks, mallets and percussion accessories how, where and by whom his designs are made. I can’t say I’m shocked by his response but it is a bit of a bummer. “Hi Beth, I know who you are and have seen some of your posts on FB collecting vintage sticks. What you are asking is pretty sensitive proprietary information of me and I prefer to keep it that way. I hope you understand.”
In short, it’s my experience that anyone who won’t say where their products are being made is probably having them made in China, or any other country where workmanship is high but work itself is low-paying and manufacturing practices largely unsustainable.
Years ago when I managed inventory for a bicycle shop, I asked similar questions at an industry-only trade show, and got similar responses. I finally pressed someone at the booth for Rickshaw Bags, an up-and-coming messenger bag maker, and he admitted that the sub-assemblies -- the inner pockets and zippered compartments and such, are made in China and sent to the US for final assembly into bags.
"No one else can sew those sub-assemblies as consistently well and affordably," he told me. "At the volume that most bag makers are working with, almost no one is still making their bags entirely in the US anymore."
Because if you have to charge the real cost of making a messenger bag in the US, the price will kill your business. Americans are addicted to paying as little as possible, even for something that a high price justifies by its quality and methods.
"Cheap" manufacturing and high volume output are killing the small craftsman, especially in the drum business.
And so the next step is to design something that looks and feels high-zoot, price it accordingly, and keep quiet about where and how it's made.
(Rapha did this in the bicycle industry, and was fairly successful at it for awhile — with slick designs in bicycle clothing and accessories, all being made in countries where there are few laws regarding living wage or workers’ rights in general. In the beginning, no one cared because Rapha was based in the UK and the high price was part of the line’s allure. Eventually, the company got sold to a subsidiary of the Walmart empire, prices came down only a little, and it became the subject of a very big bike industry joke. People still wear Rapha, they’re still willing to pay a fortune for the branding — because Rapha is very, very good at branding and peoples’ egos respond accordingly because no one wants the illusion shattered — and they’re still a moneymaking brand for someone. I have never owned or worn Rapha on my bike rides, and never will.)
This is a big part of why I decided to try and make my own stuff, either original ideas or versions of mass-produced things I couldn't justify the cost of. Because how badly do I want to support a company's bottom line by paying for things they didn't make themselves, things they happily have made overseas under less-than-transparent conditions?
I'm happy to save my pennies and pay full pop for something the designer makes themselves:
John Crocken, Artifact Percussion, LA Backbeat, Beetle Percussion, GB Manufacturing, Cherry Hill Drums, Cooperman. The price and wait are worth it when a craftsman takes the time and care to make it good, and they should be paid accordingly. Craft matters.
I'm not so willing to pay similarly high prices for designers who don't make their own stuff AND are cagey about where and how their stuff is made, and pass it off as craft.
When consumers ask where or how something is made, it's because we care.
We care about best practices in the workplace, in the sourcing and preparing of raw materials, and in the expertise and care taken by the craftsman to create a fine product.
As a consumer, I think it's not only okay to ask, it's our responsibility as consumers to participate in the buy-sell exchange by asking.
A designer or retailer who knows the answers to our questions and won't give them is treating us like idiots or children, thinking that it's better if we don't press too hard, don't look too closely. They worry that if we see how the sausage is made we won't buy it; or worse, we'll find a way to make our own.
That's the risk you take in making and selling things. Accept the risk and don't worry about our questions.
Tonight, I'm going to finish recovering a pair of timpani mallets so I can use them.
Happy drumming.
(Note: photo removed by designer request.)
