Force and reach, and what a hand can actually do
Real human limits, and how far they vary between people.
A hand's force and reach are not fixed quantities that can be looked up once and applied to everyone, they vary enormously from one person to the next, which means a device built around a published average grip strength or a standard reach envelope is a device quietly designed for someone who may not exist in the room it is meant to serve.
Designing a device for one specific, named person rather than for a market changed the whole starting question, because there was no longer a population average worth consulting, only one particular hand, with its own particular strength and its own particular reach, that the device either worked for or did not.
Introduction and overview
Most published figures for hand force and reach come from anthropometry, the systematic measurement of the human body across large samples, and a fifth-percentile or a ninety-fifth-percentile grip strength drawn from that kind of dataset is genuinely useful for a product meant to fit a crowd of unknown people. Anthropometric tables exist precisely because designing for a whole population one measurement at a time would be impossible, so the discipline collapses thousands of individual bodies into a manageable handful of percentile figures a designer can actually work from. That collapse is also exactly where the usefulness ends the moment the actual user is one specific person rather than a crowd, since that person's grip might sit well outside either end of the published range, and a device designed to satisfy an average has no particular reason to satisfy an individual who was never part of the sample that produced it.
Why force and reach resist being averaged
Grip strength and comfortable reach both vary with hand size, age, joint condition and simple day-to-day variation in a way that a single number cannot capture, and worse, the two do not vary together in any dependable way, since a person with a strong grip does not automatically have a long reach or the reverse. A device that assumes both scale from the same underlying "strength" ends up wrong in at least one dimension for almost everyone, which is a genuine trap for anyone reasoning from a single average figure toward a design meant to serve a particular pair of hands rather than a statistical crowd.
The pickle-jar comparison
A stiff pickle jar lid that one person's wrist twists open without a second thought leaves a different, equally healthy adult's hand slipping, aching and reaching for a cloth to improve their grip, a difference that has nothing to do with either person being unusually strong or unusually weak and everything to do with how widely ordinary grip force actually varies. A kitchen designed around whichever adult happens to be opening the jar that morning, rather than around a published average grip force, would put the opening mechanism somewhere both hands could actually manage, and a device built for one named user has to make the same adjustment rather than trusting that an average grip force will happen to describe the specific hand it needs to serve.
The one number worth remembering
Measured grip strength across ordinary healthy adults commonly varies by a factor of two or more between the weaker and stronger ends of a normal range, well before any injury, condition or age-related change is even considered, and reach follows a similarly wide spread once arm length and shoulder mobility are both allowed to vary. A device engineered around the middle of that spread can, without anyone intending it, sit entirely out of reach of force for the one person actually meant to use it, which is exactly the failure a design built for a named individual has no excuse for making, since there is only one hand's actual capability to measure rather than a whole population's to average across.
The top-shelf comparison
Two people standing in the same kitchen reach for the same top shelf with entirely different results, one lifting a jar down without rising onto their toes, the other needing a step stool for exactly the same shelf, despite both being well within the ordinary range of adult height. A kitchen designed for one specific person can simply put things where that person's arm actually reaches, but a kitchen designed for an average household height guesses at a compromise that may leave the shelf slightly too high for the shorter cook and slightly wasted in headroom for the taller one. Reach for a named individual works the same way a grip force does, it is a fixed, measurable fact about one particular body rather than a target to be approximated from a table meant to describe everybody at once.
What follows from this
Designing for one named person means measuring that person directly wherever possible, the actual pinch force their fingers can sustain, the actual distance their arm can comfortably cover without straining a shoulder, rather than substituting a textbook figure that was never gathered with this particular body in mind. Where a direct measurement genuinely cannot be taken, the safer assumption leans toward the more limited end of the plausible range rather than the average, since a device that turns out to demand slightly less force or reach than necessary is merely easier than it needed to be, while one that demands slightly more simply fails to work for the person it exists to serve.
Where this stops being true
None of this suggests population averages are worthless, since a device genuinely meant for a broad, unknown market has no better starting point than exactly the kind of anthropometric data a single-user design has to set aside. The distinction that matters is knowing which situation is actually in front of a designer, because treating an average as a stand-in for an individual, or treating one individual's measured limits as representative of everyone else, both fail in the same underlying way, by asking one number to answer a question only a direct measurement of the relevant hand can actually settle. A named-user design also has a genuine advantage a population-scale one never gets, which is the chance to simply ask, or watch, rather than estimate, since the person the device is being built for is usually available to be measured directly rather than inferred from a table gathered years earlier from people who were never going to touch this particular device.