"There's such a thing as too much point on a pencil." - H. Allen Smith, "Let the Crabgrass Grow"

The Over-Sharpened Point: A Reminder of Modesty and Moderation in Daily Actions

Famed author, humorist, and philosopher H. Allen Smith once shared the simple yet profound observation, "There's such a thing as too much point on a pencil." Bluntly stated, this quip carries a deeper message about balance, intention, and the often-overlooked consequences of excessive focus, even on small, everyday tasks. It serves as a gentle, ironic caution against letting precision, or persistance, spiral out of control to the point of diminishing return or unnecessary sharpness.

While seemingly trivial, the transformation of a standard pencil point into something dangerously fine holds echoes in various aspects of modern life. Consider the digital world, where the ability to meticulously edit and refine is vital. Yet, an inordinate focus on minuscule imperfections can consume hours, drain creativity, and flatten the overall impact of the finished work. A paragraph initially filled with energy and nuance can, under this relentless scrutiny, become tedious and unreadable, the sharp, infinitely detailed point ultimately blunting the intended message.

Similarly, in the realm of physical persistence, applying a comparable lack of moderation can be counterproductive. One might recall the tale of the persistent woodpecker who, in its relentless quest for grubs, eventually bored through its own nest in the trunk. Applying "too much point," whether ethically justified or not, can lead to self-inflicted damage or unnecessary consequences, diverting energy that could be productively channeled elsewhere.

Nature itself, according to Smith's wry perspective, often demonstrates this principle. Excessive pruning in gardening, for instance, might encourage dense, but ultimately unhealthy or unyielding, growth. A simple, strong shape, perhaps a less sharp display of thorns, might be more resilient than an unnaturally, overly defined point leaving one vulnerable. Even basic household tasks, like sanding a piece of wood, would be compromised if one insisted on an eventually useless hypersmooth edge.

Smith’s quote gained popularity through his "Let the Crabgrass Grow" column, where he used aphorisms to comment on nature, life, and the often-foolish ways of humans. His writings consistently explored the balance between nature's vigor and the meticulously ordered, often unnatural, designs of human enterprise. The warning against "too much point on a pencil" fits this pattern, urging a kind of contentment with sufficiency, not excess. It prompts us to question whether our own endeavors are achieving necessary precision or simply dissolving into an uncomfortable, unnecessarily sharp edge that lacks practical function.

In essence, Smith's observation transcends the paperweight universe and sharpens a focus on the importance of moderation in all endeavors. It reminds us that sometimes, maintaining function, productivity, and well-being requires leaving well enough alone. A pencil, after all, is intended not just to write but to write effectively and safely. Its default sharpness is purposeful; exceeding that purpose robs it of its intended function, much like striving for an unrealistic version of positive change can override the genuine benefits and risk injury to the overall effort. Perhaps the wisest application involves finding that happy medium – enough focus to achieve the goal, but not so much that we, or our tools, become dangerously over-optimized.