The surgical toolmaker's craft

As she shows off the work benches, vices, and files that are the tools of her company’s trade, Alyson reflects on the reaction when medical professionals visit:

“They are like, ‘Wow, okay, I’ll take a bit more care of these instruments now I know what goes into making them!’”

We are standing in a red brick building on a residential street a few miles from the centre of Sheffield. This is Platts & Nisbett’s home. Here, surrounded by largely traditional tools, some of the world’s most skilled metal workers are crafting surgical instruments for use by some of our most skilled surgeons.

At one of the benches, Paul, with a small file in hand, is working on the teeth of a DeBakey clamp. “You’ve got to be very delicate. Not too rough with your hands,” he explains as he gently files away.

“A machine can’t do this. The teeth are too fine. The idea of these teeth is that when the surgeon clamps the vessel, it stops the flow of blood but doesn’t crush the vessel – that’s why the teeth have to be so fine.”

The company, co-founded by Alyson’s father, has been making surgical instruments since 1977. Using hands, hammers and vices to craft bone-cutters, clamps, and retractors with exceptional care and skill.

These skills are in a critical state. Surgical instrument-making is on the Heritage Craft’s red list of endangered skills. The team at Platts & Nisbett is acutely aware that the craft will be lost if knowledge is not passed down. They offer apprenticeships, but they’re expensive for the company.

“Apprentices don’t make us any money for the first few years. They are a cost. And we don’t get funding from the government. You just hope you pick the right people, and they stay.”

When asked what qualities she looks for in new recruits, Alyson is quick to answer:  “Perseverance.” “It takes five years to learn. You’re looking at about 10,000 hours of training, so that’s a lot of time.”

It takes that long to learn how to spot the exact shade of orange required when heating up the ends of a clamp before curving them, or to know how to file an instrument without stressing the metal, or to know how to ensure a pair of forceps has the right balance in a surgeon’s hand.

Carl has been with the company for 32 years. He’s currently standing by a vice working on a small Castaneda clamp. “You know this instrument is going to be used on children. That’s why you always try your best, it’s got to be the best. You don’t want to think there’s some shoddy instrument being used in a hospital made by you.”

That sense of responsibility is felt by all at the company.

“At the end of everything we do, there’s a patient. And one day that could be you, it could be your son, daughter, someone you care about. You have to know you’re producing the best product you can,” Alyson stresses.

The care and commitment that Platts & Nisbett pours into each piece does not go unrecognised in the surgical rooms. “We get testimonials from surgeons that are happy with their instruments. We recently got a thank-you letter. That’s quite old-fashioned, isn’t it? Usually it’s an email. When we get feedback like that, I do share it with the staff because it’s important for them to know they are making a difference.”  

Making a difference matters to Alyson. At the back of the factory, in the company’s small boardroom, there’s a folder on the table. In it are photos of children who have received corrective surgery thanks to a medical charity which Platts & Nisbett donate instruments to.

“This photo shows a baby’s heart. The size of a strawberry basically. You’re looking at a heart, and our instruments around it,” explains Alyson with pride.

“We are not just here bashing out lumps of metal. Our instruments are either going to be life-changing or life-saving.”

Alyson puts the folder back down as she goes out to discuss a new order with her team. Here, in this Sheffield workshop, they are striving to save the metal-crafting skills relied on by surgeons when they save lives.