Nobody has improved on the hand plane

Quick answer: A used metal-bodied bench plane, usually a No. 4 or No. 5 in the old Stanley numbering, is the best first plane for most people. Buy it for the flat sole and the unbent iron, and ignore the paint.

The inductee

Today we induct the bench plane.

Its job hasn't changed in a couple thousand years. It makes a rough board flat, straight and smooth by taking off shavings, one pass at a time. Roman carpenters used planes, and examples survive. For centuries they were wooden bodies with an iron wedged in place and tapped into adjustment with a hammer.

The version most of us picture came in the 1860s. Leonard Bailey patented a metal-bodied design with a screw adjuster, and Stanley took over his business in 1869. The numbering stuck. A No. 4 is the smoothing plane, the one that finishes a surface. A No. 5, about 14 inches long, is the jack plane, the all-rounder. A No. 7 is the long jointer for edges and big boards.

If you own one plane, make it the No. 5. If you own two, add the No. 4.

Why it has never been improved on

A plane is a chisel with a fence built on it. That's the whole idea, and it's why the idea works.

The sole, the flat bottom, is the reference. It rides across the board and bridges the hollows, so the blade only touches the high spots. Pass after pass, the high spots disappear and the board comes out flat. A long sole does that better than a short one, which is why a jointer plane exists at all. Length does the work, and no battery or motor can add it.

The iron sits on a bed at 45 degrees on the common planes, which is a good angle for most woods. The chipbreaker, the little plate screwed on top, stiffens the blade and curls the shaving so the grain doesn't tear up ahead of the edge. The mouth, the slot the blade pokes through, holds the wood fibers down right where they're cut. Close the mouth, and a stubborn board gives you a clean surface.

The adjuster lets you move the edge a hair at a time. Everything else is mass and flatness.

The best part is what wears out. The edge dulls, and the edge is the one part you renew in two minutes. The tool doesn't age. It just waits for you to sharpen it. The sharpening basics cover that, and they're the real price of admission.

What the "improved" versions got wrong

Be fair first. Some refinements are real. A low-angle block plane is a better tool for end grain and small trimming than a standard one. Bevel-up designs have their fans. Premium makers such as Lie-Nielsen and Lee Valley's Veritas line sell planes with heavier castings, thicker irons and tighter machining. Those are the same idea done with better manufacturing, not a replacement for it.

The gimmicks are a different story.

• Rasp-style "shaving" tools. They're files with a handle. They remove wood, but they don't leave a planed surface.
• Thin stamped-metal or plastic bodies. The sole is the reference, and a sole that flexes is a reference that lies to you.
• Disposable-blade designs. You throw away the one part you should have learned to sharpen.
• Power planers. They're a good tool for taking a swollen door down fast. They leave ridges, and they remove stock rather than flatten it. Different job.

The pattern is that every gimmick trades away the sole's flatness or the edge's quality to save you learning something. The learning is about an hour of practice.

Buying one that lasts

Bench planes aren't forged. The bodies are cast iron, and the iron blade is steel. What you're looking for is mass, a flat sole and parts that fit.

New or used? Used is the sensible route for most people. Old Stanley Bailey, Record and similar planes turn up at estate sales, flea markets and online auctions, and a clean one is often cheaper than a new budget plane. Say a good used No. 4 costs $50. That's an example, not a quote. A new premium plane from a boutique maker costs a multiple of that. Check the current price on both before deciding.

Take a straightedge and this checklist with you:

• The sole. Lay a straightedge across it. A little wear is fine. A visible rock or bow isn't.
• Cracks. Look hard around the mouth and where the sides meet the sole. A dropped plane often cracks right there.
• The frog. It's the piece the iron rests on. It should seat cleanly and sit solid when you tighten it down.
• The iron. Check how much steel is left. A stub is a short life. Pitting near the edge can be ground out, but pitting on the back is trouble. Replacement irons from aftermarket makers exist if the original is shot.
• The adjuster. Turn it and feel for backlash, the dead spot before the blade moves. A little is normal. A lot is wear.
• The handles. The tote (the rear grip) and the knob should be hardwood and uncracked. Check the tote at the base, where cracks start. A cracked handle can be repaired, but you should know before you pay.

On a new plane, look at what the maker publishes about sole flatness, iron thickness and what's included. Read the actual warranty document before buying. Look for the length, whether it covers parts and labor, what voids it, who pays shipping and whether you must register it. And read the one-year-later owner reviews. Complaints about the adjuster or the casting usually show up there.

If you're building a kit from scratch, a plane fits well alongside the five tools to buy first.

Keeping it for the next generation

Three habits do almost everything.

1. Retract the iron after use. Back the adjuster off so the edge isn't sticking out of the mouth. Lay the plane on its side so the edge never rests on the bench.
2. Keep rust off. Wipe the sole with a light coat of wax or oil before it goes on the shelf. A damp garage will find any bare iron. A dry cabinet beats a toolbox in a humid space.
3. Hone the edge before it's dull, not after. A plane with a sharp iron is a pleasure. One with a dull iron makes people think they hate planes. Learn it once, and every tool you own gets better.

Then hand it down. Don't give a kid a plane in a box. Give it with the iron sharp, a scrap of pine on the bench and ten minutes of your time. Let the first shaving curl off the edge and drop on the floor. That's the whole induction ceremony.