Perhaps a successful stapling event is more a matter of technique. I get the best results if I hold the stapler in my hand and squeeze or if I leave it on the desk and pound it with my fist. If I merely mash it with the heel of my hand the results are mixed.
I’ve found there are two main types of staplers. Imagine that you open up the compartment where the staples are stored. Now you see the bottom, horizontal part that contains the staples, and the top that you just lifted up. One type of stapler has a spring that runs from the top front part of the case to the bottom part, and on the bottom part is a sliding metal thing that bumps up against the staples. That is the good kind of stapler. Stapler type #2 just has a spring running wholly within the bottom part, which pushes a metal bar against the staples. This is the bad kind of stapler.
Stapler type #1, Swingline, works well for me.
I must be the odd one out here: I’ve got a stapler on my desk that I have carried faithfully through three jobs and at least eight office moves, and it’s not a Swingline. If the logo on the top can be trusted, the manufacturer is apparently “Rapid,” with the inscription on the bottom reading “Classic 81.” Google doesn’t provide much information about this, so I can’t offer a picture of it, and I don’t even know if the company is still around. In fact, don’t really remember where I got it in the first place. I’d like to have a couple more.
Why? Because it’s a heavy design, providing a thoroughly satisfying heft in the hand, much better than the lightweight half-plastic models offered by my company’s supply room, and it has never, ever jammed, even with cheap staples. When it disappears from my desk, which has happened twice now, all work stops while I go track it down. It is my friend. I call it Paco. Say hello to Paco, everybody.
Hi Paco!
I always blame the staples.