Purely as an ‘EDC utility knife’ public service announcement, I would like to warn people off of ever purchasing the Pichi G9. I owned this knife for many years, probably over a decade. It was one of the first slick, cool, EDC-style utility knives I ever purchased. Prior to that, my utility knives were all made by Milwaukee, Stanley or DeWalt. I kept it in a kitchen drawer where it was always handy for opening packages and breaking down cardboard boxes.
Now, to be scrupulously fair, there is absolutely not a thing in the world wrong with either the materials, quality of construction or fit and finish of this product. In those categories, it gets straight As across the board. So how then could I possibly have a complaint about it?
Well unfortunately, the people behind the design of this knife have apparently never heard of human factors engineering. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable to hold from an ergonomic standpoint. It’s just that the design and implementation of their three position lever mechanism couldn’t be more confounding.
Overall, we’re looking at sort of a clamshell type design. In one position, the lever locks the clamshell in place (either with the blade deployed or retracted). In another position, the lever allows you to physically twist the clamshell open just enough for the blade to slide in or out. In the third position, the lever allows you to twist the clamshell all the way open when swapping out blades.
The lesser problem is that this design makes it virtually impossible for you to manipulate the lever one-handed when holding the knife as you would to cut things. By itself, I wouldn’t characterize this as much more than an annoyance.
The far greater problem is that there’s absolutely no intuitive feel for which physical position of the lever controls which function. Worse still, if you try to slightly twist open the clamshell, to either extend or retract the blade, while the lever is in the wrong position, then the entire mechanism locks up. Now you’re left to fumble around with this thing trying to force the clamshell back into a position where it becomes unstuck.
What’s truly remarkable is how you can own this thing for years without the UI ever becoming any more natural or intuitive. Finally, about six months ago, after having this stupid effing mechanism jam up on me for the 7932nd time, I threw the entire thing into the floor with such unimaginable force and ferocity that the piece of crap exploded into a hundred pieces and the titanium clamshell on one side completely sheared into two separate pieces near the pivot end.
Thankfully, I don’t lose my temper like this very often. But when I do, I typically feel ashamed afterward at what I recognize as a transient lack of maturity. In this case, however, there was no regret whatsoever. There was only unbridled joy at finally being freed from the torture of this diabolical object. Could I have just given it to someone else rather than obliterating it? Sure. But why would I want to be responsible for inflicting this abomination upon any other person?
It needed to be destroyed.
They all need to be destroyed.
RIP POS.
