The Review That Helped Me Better Understand Universal Design — and the Headwinds It Faces

A cartoon character in a floral shirt clings fearfully to a giant knife, symbolizing a precarious and tense situation with letting go of blade orthodoxy.

We’re a small startup, and we take every bit of feedback seriously — sometimes personally. When you spend years developing something you believe can genuinely help people, criticism hits differently than you’d expect.

A recent Amazon review stopped me in my tracks. The reviewer called the NULU “an overpriced pizza cutter,” “irresponsible,” and even predicted it would end up “in evidence bags more than kitchens.”

I’ll be honest — that one stung. Not because it was harsh, but because it made me realize how easily we mistake “unfamiliar” for “wrong,” and how many people cling to tradition and miss out on advancement.

A Design That Looks Different Because It Works Different

The NULU doesn’t look like a traditional chef’s knife, and that’s intentional. It’s inspired by the Alaskan Ulu — a blade design that Indigenous people perfected over thousands of years for efficiency and control. But the NULU isn’t a replica. It’s an evolution built on modern ergonomic principles.

At its core is something we call Force Transfer Geometry™ — a fancy term for a simple idea: align the blade directly beneath your hand so every ounce of effort goes straight into the cut. No twisting. No sawing. No awkward angles that strain your wrist or shoulder. You press down, and it cuts cleanly.

There’s no pointed tip. No precarious grip. No fatigue after extended use.

I understand why someone might look at it and think, “That’s not a knife.” It challenges what we’ve been conditioned to expect. But I’d ask: what if our expectations have been limiting us?

What Happens When People Actually Use It

Here’s what we hear most often from customers:

• “I didn’t realize how much my hands hurt until they stopped hurting.”

• “I can finally prep dinner without needing to rest halfway through.”

• “My mom has Parkinson’s, and this is the first knife she’s felt safe using in years.”

  
  

These aren’t outliers. They’re the reason we built the NULU in the first place.

For people with arthritis, joint pain, limited grip strength, tremors, or vision impairment — or honestly, anyone who cooks frequently — the difference between a traditional knife and the NULU isn’t just comfort. It’s capability. It’s independence. It’s the ability to keep doing something that matters.

Let’s Talk About the “Evidence Bag”

This one deserves a direct response, because safety isn’t something I take lightly. I want to explain what we actually thought about when designing for safety.

Most common kitchen knife injuries occur from:

• Tip punctures when a blade slips or loses control

• Cuts when sawing motions pull the blade toward the hand

• Injuries when grip fails and the hand slides down onto the blade

• Fatigue-related mistakes after extended cutting sessions

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The NULU eliminates or reduces every single one of these risks:

• No tip means no stab wounds. There’s literally no pointed end to puncture skin if the knife slips. This alone removes the most serious category of kitchen knife injuries.

• The cutting motion offers superior control. The NULU does more than just “rock.” Its balanced circular geometry gives users stable, guided movement through the cut — which is why many of our clients from the vision-impaired community have specifically praised the improved control and safety they feel while using it.

• Your hand always stays behind the blade. Unlike a traditional knife where you’re pushing forward and sawing, the NULU uses a controlled downward motion. Your hand stays in a fixed, stable position above and behind the cutting edge — never in the path of the blade.

• The ergonomic handle requires less grip strength. When people don’t have to squeeze hard to maintain control, their hand is less likely to cramp, slip, or slide down onto the blade. Reduced fatigue means fewer mistakes.

• The blade doesn’t require awkward wrist angles. Most repetitive-strain injuries in the kitchen come from unnatural joint positions repeated hundreds of times. The NULU’s vertical orientation keeps your wrist neutral.

I’m not claiming the NULU is injury-proof — no blade is. But the assertion that it’s more dangerous than a traditional chef’s knife isn’t supported by the biomechanics of how either tool is used. If anything, for users with reduced dexterity, grip strength, or hand control — the very people most at risk in the kitchen — the NULU is demonstrably safer.

Could someone hurt themselves with a NULU? Sure. The same way someone could hurt themselves with any kitchen tool. But “unfamiliar design” doesn’t equal “irresponsible design.” It means we prioritized function over convention — and in this case, that makes it safer, not less so.

The Bias We Don’t Always See

What struck me most about that review wasn’t the criticism itself — it was the assumption underneath it. The reviewer saw something that didn’t match his mental image of a “knife” and concluded it must be flawed.

That’s not malice. That’s just human nature. We trust familiar shapes, even when they no longer serve us as well as they could.

But here’s the thing — every great innovation looks wrong at first. Touchscreens seemed impractical compared to keyboards. Electric cars seemed like toys compared to combustion engines. Automatic transmissions were for people who “couldn’t really drive.”

Then we tried them. And many of those “wrong” designs became standard — not because they were trendy, but because they worked better.

Why Universal Design Benefits Everyone

When you design tools for people with limitations, you learn something humbling: we all have them. Maybe not today, maybe not this year — but eventually, every one of us will experience pain, stiffness, reduced strength, or loss of dexterity.

Universal design isn’t charity. It’s foresight.

The principles that make a knife usable for someone with arthritis also make it more efficient and comfortable for a professional chef working a double shift. It’s the same logic behind curb cuts, voice commands, and ergonomic chairs — tools designed for specific needs that turned out to benefit everyone.

What We’re Really Building

We’re not just making knives. We’re protecting rituals.

The act of cooking for your family. Sharing a meal you prepared yourself. Feeling capable and independent in your own kitchen. These aren’t small things. For many people, losing the ability to cook feels like losing a piece of themselves.

So yes, the NULU looks different. It challenges expectations. Some people will always prefer traditional knives, and that’s completely fair — there’s no single right tool for everyone.

But for those who’ve written to us in tears because they can finally chop vegetables again, or who’ve told us this knife gave them back a piece of their life they thought was gone — for them, this “pizza cutter” is everything.

An Invitation

To the reviewer, and to anyone skeptical of a design that doesn’t look familiar: I respect your perspective. You clearly care about knives, and I appreciate that passion.

I’m not asking you to love the NULU. I’m just asking you to consider that “different” isn’t the same as “wrong” — and that someday, when your own hands start to ache or tire more easily, you might be grateful someone was willing to rethink what a knife could be.

Innovation doesn’t happen by clinging to comfort. It happens when we’re brave enough to ask: What if there’s a better way?

For me, that question isn’t theoretical — it’s the reason I get up every day.

We think we’ve found one. And we’re going to keep refining it, one kitchen at a time.

In the end we will change minds by changing lives.