I think it's all about linguistics and how we humans qualify certain words.

I struggle with ultra-keen edges. I give myself weepers with them, probably because I have too little control over the whisper-light pressure they require. Possibly my shaving angles are all over the place and my scythes are not wielded with sufficient precision. So I'm condemned to settle for duller edges that are more forgiving for a sucker like me. I just can't handle a truly sharp razor, like I am also too much a sissy to mend a 300 HP sports car. (let's add a big grin here: , although it's all true)

Please do not read this wrong. I am not implying that Glen or the outstanding gentlemen in the "a razor cannot be too sharp" school, are scorning those that think a razor can cut a bit too well. I just think that we are often talking about the same things, but only refuse to use the same words for them, because we fear the association that comes with those words.
I believe that's why we don't refer to a razor that mars our skin, as being "too sharp" but rather as being "too harsh". Razor's can't be "too sharp". They are not allowed to be possibly "too sharp". Many of us were at least partially drawn to the concept of straight razors, because they are so dangerously, wickedly sharp. How on Earth can we allow them to be too sharp? It's simply blasphemy to say so, and all those bloody fags who imply otherwise should be stripped of their manhood and kicked of these manly boards.

(finding a renewed solemness)

I think, that if we could all adopt the same well defined definition of words, something that's actually imperative for these kinds of conversations with a huge physics background, we would find that we're all much more in agreement than we appear at first sight.

Hence, let's rephrase the question:
"Can an edge be too harsh?"
If so, what causes that harshness? How to reduce it?

All written in good fun and respect,
Bart.