1) Undercut to avoid tearing.
2) Making the top cut.
3) The undercut stops the top cut from ripping.
4) A stub before making the final cut.
5) Making the final cut.
6) The wound of the final cut.
Photos courtesy of Lindsey Purcell.

I came up the apprenticeship route – not a formal apprenticeship like there is today, but an apprenticeship nevertheless. My master, who also was my father, felt it took eight years to become a competent arborist, one skilled in all facets of the profession. He believed in doing a quality job. That was his ace in the hole. And when it came to trimming, he was a stickler for stubs.

He complained about having to go back over trees that a certain member of the crew had done, cleaning up all the little stubs left from pruning cuts. He’d make me get out to the tips of branches to take out deadwood down to pieces sometimes about a half-inch in diameter and maybe a foot or two or three long. We called those manicure jobs, using a handsaw rather than positioning further back on the branch using a pole saw. I learned that handsaw cuts are less likely to leave stubs. Many times, it’s hard not to leave a small, slightly angled stub with a pole saw.

Manicure jobs
We (my father and I) worked for a time for a tree service owned and run by a gentleman named Matt Ruckley. He was hiring us for his manicure jobs. He was a stickler for stubs, too. Once, he kept me busy for half a day going over a number of ornamentals, touching up the numerous stubs his other climbers had left.

It was three or four years before I was allowed to make final cuts with a chain saw. I would work the branch back, leaving a 3- or 4-foot stub. My father would then make the final cut. A bad final cut could spoil an otherwise good job. He (my father) complained, too, about the final cuts of a first-rate climber he used. They were bigger than necessary and sometimes cut into the trunk of the tree.

The science
One time, back in the late 1970s or so, when we were doing some manicure jobs for Ruckley, he mentioned some recently published research findings. Some academics had researched final cuts, looking at which was better for the general well-being of the tree, a final cut made to industry standards or just leaving broken stubs. Their findings determined there wasn’t much difference. It didn’t seem to matter much to the tree one way or the other. Ruckley found that a bit disconcerting, something that could compromise one of his major selling points.

The trees don’t always see things the way we do. Final cuts can be made to our standards, but in the end, the tree will determine where to initiate callus growth. Many times, it will be as we think proper, though it is not uncommon to find otherwise. The way some calluses develop, one would think it the result of a botched final cut. The quality of the final cut doesn’t always have a bearing on whether or not the callus grows to cover the cut. It does many times on small cuts. But on those more than 12 inches in diameter, the callus doesn’t always seal the wound completely.

Aesthetics
To remove stubs or leave them is basically an aesthetics issue. In storm-
damage situations, clients more often than not decline to have a stub removed. Bonsai enthusiasts sometimes break off the tops of their trees to mimic the natural storm-damage look. But in the large majority of discretionary trimming, clients prefer to have a good final cut.

When left to my own judgment, I stick with the industry standard. In isolated instances, I have been told to leave a stub. Leaving a stub may, in fact, be in the best interests of the tree. The rot that can set in may take longer to reach the heartwood than if the stub were removed.

Final cut
Leaving stubs or making good final cuts may not matter to the tree, but it does matter to arborists. Good final cuts are the mark of conscientious pruners; those who pay attention to details, those with exemplary standards. It’s up to each arborist to decide what quality of work they wish to perform.

I strive to keep in mind that my work demonstrates the standards I adhere to far more than any words can. I maintain my standards even on cuts 40 feet up in the tree. Some may think that a bit anal, but that’s where I have left the benchmarks that bear witness to the standards instilled in me as an apprentice by my master.

Michael Hoppe is owner/operator of Michael Hoppe Arborist, a two-person operation based in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.