Skip to main content

The Rube Goldberg Device

A sketch to a fan by Rube Goldberg.  From left to right: Mike and Ike (they look alike), Boob McNutt, Professor Lucifer Gorgonzola Butts, and Bertha.


Max and Hannah Goldberg wanted a bright, secure future for their son Reuben.  Max was the police and fire commissioner for the city of San Francisco in the late 19th century, but rather than civil service, he saw his son Reuben’s future was probably better suited for engineering.  Reuben had shown early talent for drawing, and his parents started paying for professional art lessons when he was eleven, which would certainly be useful for a career as an engineer.  Reuben graduated from the University of California at Berkeley in 1904 with a degree in Engineering, and went right to work for the San Francisco Water and Sewers Department.  That degree paid off promptly, but just how much it would be worth in the end, no one could even guess.

Reuben was restless, and after six months, he resigned his job with Water and Sewers to take another one with the San Francisco Chronicle.  The Chronicle needed a cartoonist, and Reuben was happy with the work, drawing sports cartoons for the paper.  The next year he moved on to the San Francisco Bulletin, drawing more cartoons.  In 1907, he moved east to take a job with the New York Evening Mail, still drawing cartoons.

The Evening Mail billed Reuben as “America’s most popular cartoonist”.  Whether this could be proven or even measured, he was popular.  His cartoons were enjoying wide distribution through the McClure Newspaper Syndicate, the first newspaper syndicate in the United States.  He was popular enough to be approached by the growing Hearst media empire in 1911 with the generous salary offer of $2,600 a year if he’d join them.  He declined the offer, and just as well.  By 1915, Reuben “Rube” Goldberg was making $25,000 a year drawing cartoons for the Evening Mail.  Hearst tried again, aiming to poach him with a salary offer of $50,000 a year—the equivalent of about $1.2 million in 2018.  Rather than lose Goldberg to Hearst, the Evening Mail matched the salary and their cartoonist stayed on.  The Evening Mail formed the Evening Mail Syndicate with the intention of distributing Goldberg’s cartoons nationally.

A Foolish Questions panel, circa 1915.

Goldberg’s popularity continued to soar.  In 1922, he started working for the McNulty Syndicate, where he produced eight cartoon strips over the next dozen years, typically producing several of them at a time on a daily basis.  Some of them, like Foolish Questions, What Are You Kicking About, Telephonies, are lost to memory, despite their popularity at the time.  His second-best-remembered strip, Boob McNutt, about a cheerful, accident-prone young man, isn’t even remembered all that well.  It was one of Goldberg’s characters, Professor Lucifer Gorgonzola Butts, from the strip The Inventions of Professor Lucifer Gorgonzola Butts, who did the most to help retain Goldberg’s memory in the public.  Professor Butts’ name might not be on the tips of most people’s tongues today, even though his strip ran from 1914 to 1964, but his fictional accomplishments are still celebrated in many ways.

Professor Butts was an inventor.  He designed elaborate machines to perform simple tasks.  Schematics for these machines would appear in Goldberg’s strips, drawing on his engineering background.

A Rube Goldberg device, first published in 1918.

These machines would become Goldberg’s most popular creations, and what he came to be best remembered for.  In time, the idea would be imitated, with outrageous machines of this type appearing as a staple in animated cartoons.  They also inspired the 1963 board game Mousetrap, in which players would move around the board by rolling dice, all the while building a comically elaborate machine for catching mice.  The winner of the game would get to turn a crank, causing a chain reaction that would eventually bring a cage down on one of the mouse-shaped playing pieces.

Television ad for Ideal's Mousetrap board game, 1963

The term “Rube Goldberg device” has made its way into the modern American lexicon.  Rather than machines, it’s more commonly used to describe ideas that are needlessly complicated and anywhere from difficult to impossible to comprehend.  In an April 3, 2014 opinion piece in the New York Times, Paul Krugman wrote:

“The crucial thing to understand about the Affordable Care Act is that it’s a Rube Goldberg device, a complicated way to do something inherently simple. The biggest risk to reform has always been that the scheme would founder on its complexity.”

While Krugman’s piece on the Affordable Care Act is in favor of the Act, he compares it to a Rube Goldberg device as a criticism.  While Rube Goldberg’s cartoons and their imitators have long been popular, it’s seldom (if ever) a compliment to compare an idea or a system to them.

Perhaps Professor Butts’ most iconic invention: the self-operating napkin (1931)

MAD Magazine’s Al Jaffee drew inspiration from Goldberg’s Foolish Questions cartoons, which he read as a child.

Joseph Herscher invented his own real-life Rube Goldberg device, designed to serve cake at the end of a meal.  SFW three-minuted video of Goldbergian engineering in action!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How the Lemon was Invented

Lemons How do you make a lemon?  Silly question, isn’t it?  You just take the seeds out of one and plant them, and wait for the tree to come up, right?  That’s true, but it hasn’t always been that easy.  Lemons today are a widely cultivated citrus fruit, with a flavor used in cuisines of countries where no lemon tree would ever grow.  You might think that it was just a matter of ancient peoples finding the trees, enjoying their fruit and growing more of them, but that’s not true.  The lemon is a human invention that’s maybe only a few thousand years old. The first lemons came from East Asia, possibly southern China or Burma.  (These days, some prefer to refer to Burma as Myanmar .  I’ll try to stay out of that controversy here and stick to fruit.)  The exact date of the lemon’s first cultivation is not known, but scientists figure it’s been around for more than 4,000 years.  The lemon is a cross breed of several fruits.  One f...

Origins of the Word Hoser, eh?

Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas as cultural icons Bob and Doug McKenzie These days we often hear Canadians referred to as “Hosers”.  It’s a strange word, and it sounds a little insulting, but it’s sometimes used more with affection than malice.  Any such word is difficult to use correctly, especially if you don’t belong to the group the word describes.   I can’t say I feel comfortable throwing the word around, myself, but I can offer a little information about it that might shed some light on what it means. First off: is it an insult?  Yes… and no.   The word hoser can be used as an insult or as a term of endearment; the variation hosehead , is certainly an insult.  It’s a mild insult, meaning something like jerk or idiot or loser .  Its origin is unclear, and there are several debatable etymologies of the word.  One claims that it comes from the days before the zamboni was invented, when the losing team of an outdoor ice hockey game...

The Whoopie Cap

What can you do with your father’s old hats?  If you were born after, say, 1955, the answer is probably “Not much.”  Men were still wearing fedoras in the 1970s and 1980s, but by 1990, fashion had turned to the point where unless you were Indiana Jones, the hat didn’t look right.  Some blame Jack Kennedy for starting it all, strutting around perfectly coiffed and bare-headed in the early 1960s.  In 1953, Harry Truman, a haberdasher by trade, stepped out of office, and just eight years later we had a president who didn’t care for hats?  The times, they were a-changin’. If you set the WABAC machine to the 1920s or 1930s (when Indiana Jones was supposed to have lived), you would see the fedora was still very much in style.  Men just didn’t leave the house without a hat of some kind, and for what remained of the middle class, the fedora was the topper of choice.  But like any other piece of clothing, hats wear out, too.  When that happened, you’d ju...