About me

It’s not (just) about knives

September 22, 2022, 5:05 pm. I clear out my desk, pack my bag, and bring my laptop and phone to the IT service. As I walk towards the exit, I remember the inflamed debates at the coffee machine; the many, many terrible jokes; but most importantly, the feeling of belonging that I experienced almost immediately when I started this job. I leave my badge at the front desk and exit through the door for the last time.

Exactly one month before, I had sent my letter of resignation to my boss and to the director of human resources. I was leaving my comfortable and well-paid position as a research & development engineer. The astonishment and disappointment of my boss and my colleagues were met with an explanation that I think they didn’t really understand.

Industrial capitalism is a dead-end. It exploits and destroys both people and planet to the profit of the privileged few, the owners of capital. It has robbed us of the things that gave meaning to our lives - our connection to the land, our connection to each other, and through the division of labour, our connection to a craft.

It was therefore obvious to me that I could not keep working in this position if I were to have some accordance between my beliefs and my actions. Especially as engineers are in a very special place. Neither fully exploiter nor fully exploited, they make the capitalist system work. They are the transmission gear between capital owners and working class.

By quitting my job, I was removing one of the gears in the system. That’s an important first step, but it is still infinitely insufficient. I want to create a truly democratic society where citizens decide for themselves rather than delegate that power to a governing elite. And one important area where that needs to happen is work. The division of labour has created jobs devoid of meaning, where workers are dispossessed and completely separated from the product of their labour. Jobs that break body and spirit while producing vast amounts of disposable goods.

“Let a thousand flowers bloom and anything could happen!”

Donella H. Meadows

To this model I want to oppose one in which workers reclaim their crafts and reconnect with the product of their work. One where they can produce beauty, quality and legacy. That led me to realise the importance of what started as a simple hobby in 2019: knife making. By fully embracing this activity, I could help bring about a counter-model and create quality tools that deliver real value in people’s lives.

What am I missing?

And so in early 2023, I created my knife-making business and began making knives professionally. It felt liberating. Even though this occupation is much more demanding physically and pays a lot less than my previous job, the satisfaction from feeling purpose in my work dwarfs all of the downsides ¹. That is especially true when I receive feedback from my customers and see them taking pleasure using my knives. Today, more than 50 amateur and professional cooking fans around the world have placed their trust in Coutellerie Robin to offer them quality knives for memorable culinary experiences.

One of my first customers, Cyril R., a cook in a Savoyard restaurant, has already ordered more than a dozen knives. In addition to having expanded his set of knives, he equipped all his colleagues and several of his friends. Similarly, Jerome W., a Danish food enthusiast, ordered an entire collection’s worth of forged high carbon steel knives: a chinese cleaver, a gyuto, a petty, a usuba, a deba and a kiridashi. Repeat customers like Cyril, Jerome and many others show me I am on the right path, bringing quality tools in people’s lives.

But still I had this nagging feeling that I was missing something. I was doubting and questioning myself. My orignal goal was to participate in the creation of an alternative model of production and consumption, to provide people with quality tools that can last generations and that carry real value, functional and emotional. And yet I was making knives that a lot of people cannot afford, even though they end up costing less on the long run. I was achieving only half of my purpose.

Two choices lied ahead. Make more affordable knives by sacrificing quality, performance and attention to detail. Or maintain a level of quality and durability in line with my values but only accessible to a certain part of the population. Needless to say I was reluctant to make this choice. The thought of abandoning one half of my mission was distressing. But what if there was another possibility? What if I didn’t have to make this impossible choice?

You decide what you pay

Pay what you can. It’s a concept I have seen in festivals, for performances, concerts, workshops, trainings and so on. But I have never encountered it for material products. The rationale is very easy to grasp. Those who have more money pay more so that those who have less money can pay less. And yet it may seem counter-intuitive at first as one of the driving features of our society is that if you make more money you can buy more stuff.

Nevertheless, cooking is central to our lives and you can hardly cook anything without a knife. So I believe that every home should have at least one quality knife to cook quality food. And given the economic model we live in, acquiring a good knife is not possible for a lot of people. But with this pay what you can scheme, we can take a (small) step towards making this vision a reality ².

This way we can make quality knives accessible to a larger part of the population while creating solidarity between people.

More details about our Pay What You Can scheme here: