Rule No. 3: Every problem can be solved by turning the unit off, then turning it back on.

This fact leads directly to the next:

Rule No. 4: If Rule No. 3 does not work, nothing in the manual can help you.

One sample consumer manual proves the rule, one for an iron made by…let’s just say it’s not made by Apple. Twenty-two pages. Thomas Paine could set out an argument for self-government in half the space.

The cover asks you to register your product. I’ll get right on that, as soon as I register this disposable lighter and this banana over here. Inside the front cover:

“Read all instructions before using.” Sorry, no. I do not want to be at a party where someone asks what I think about the latest news on the election, and I admit that I don’t have a clue, but I’m totally up to speed on the new Burst-O-Steam feature for problem linens.

“Use iron only for intended use.” So it’s not for branding cows, then.

“Do not immerse the iron in water or other liquid.” This is a staple of all electronics. I’m surprised refrigerators don’t come with a warning not to immerse in water. Submarines probably come with warnings not to immerse in water. Voids the warranty.

“Always disconnect iron from electrical outlet when filling with or emptying of water.” You know, this is good advice; we all have a deep instinctual aversion to mixing water with something that’s plugged in. Unless it’s a coffee pot.
Or an immersion coil. Or a swimming pool with a heater. Irons, though—you always hesitate. But if the cord lets you reach to the sink, of course you do it. Because you know they know you will and have cleverly designed the device so all of the bare sparky wires aren’t on the outside.

This is the best: The manual says the iron has a grounded plug with one prong bigger than the other. If the plug does not go in the outlet, turn the plug around. If this does not resolve the problem, call a qualified electrician.

Yes. Indeed. Because we all know that there are at least 17 people in the United States who haven’t confronted that baffling big-toe plug situation and would be reduced to running at the outlet from a distance of six yards—If I get up some momentum, it’ll go in. Look: If someone cannot intuit the simple solution of rotating the plug, the manual might as well be written in Sanskrit. It’s cruel to tell these people to call an electrician—sorry, a qualified electrician—because they might get some shady guy who says he’ll have to perform a Total Socket Inversion, and that’s an all-day job. He also has to do it standing on his head, and that’s time and a half.

If your product is a highly complex piece of technology that would bring tears of bafflement to the layman—a heart defibrillator, the Hubble Telescope, a particle accelerator, the typical high-def DVD player—of course you need the manual. But if you have purchased a product that has to tell people they should turn around the plug to put it in the wall, there is nothing in the manual you need to know.

Not to say you should always throw out the manual. They’re very useful. Each manual usually has a number you can call with questions, like “is this covered by the warranty?” It’s not, of course. But if you hadn’t saved the manual, how would you know?

Rule No. 5: Things that need a manual never have one.

It’s said that kids don’t come with instructions, but of course they do: Your instincts are instructions enough. It’s possible that tens of thousands of years ago our ancestors were baffled by kids—“Small one make noise! Ogg not know which end food goes in! Ogg off to bar, make deal!”—but we have figured it out. If not, thousands of books can fill us in, and we’d better read them lest Junior swell up and explode.
While raising children is a rather specific task, the Internet is something else. Getting on and staying on without making a fool of yourself asking salesmen to stop sending you e-mails is a vast, amorphous job, and hence will never come with a manual. Until now:

Thank you for purchasing the Internet! We hope it brings you many hours of enjoyment. Your Internet has been designed for many years of enjoyment. Please observe the following safety instructions:

Do not activate webcam unless pants have also been activated.

Do not spill liquid into Internet or immerse Internet in water.

Do not attempt to persuade strangers to relinquish long-held beliefs about politics, economics, or religion with a 230-word comment written in CAPS LOCK mode.

Do not combine Internet with alcohol and the Amazon One-Click™ feature, or a 47-DVD set of the complete Dr. Who may appear at your door.

Enjoy your Internet!

Rule No. 6: The Spanish half of the manual offers different and more helpful tips.

Well, probably not. But that won’t stop you from typing it into an Internet language translator, just to see. Oh ho, so “the sound of the strangeness from the item which is typically announcing is a sign to the normal of the product, but to be requesting a service.”

No matter what the language, most manuals deliver this bottom line: It’s busted. Take it back. Get a new one. And for heaven’s sake, read the manual! You’re returning the TC-9382, but they’ve replaced that with the TV-9388. And of course, the new manual is completely different.

James Lileks blogs like mad at lileks.com. His latest book is Gastroanomalies: Questionable Culinary Creations From the Golden Age of American Cookery.

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