First of all, for those of you who have watched too many Star Wars movies, and/or are not familiar with electronics, this has nothing to do with Boba Fett, The Force, or the Death Star. Although Darth Vader could teach the senior management at the Biotech Mecca a thing or two about motivational techniques. Do not fail me Admiral.
Captain Fantastic brought in his electronics wizard as a consultant. He constantly reminded us that his man had twenty five years experience (f**king it up) in Silicon Valley. In fact, the man had some skill. He managed to take the Mecca for $50,000 and only delivered a board cut at a 15° angle.
Anyhow, the instrument has a heater that draws in the neighbourhood of 20A of current. We wished to switch the heater with a Field Effect Transistor (FET). Unfortunately, the circuit that this Silicon Valley Veteran had conceived kept blowing the FET. It seems that even a small junction resistance turns into a lot of power when you have a high current. The Sarcastic Brit mentioned that this may be what was causing the FETs to burn up. There's nothing like the smell of burned plastic in the morning. The consultant insisted that the FETs didn't dissipate any power. I'm reminded of the Simpsons "In this house, young lady, we OBEY the laws of thermodynamics."
Captain Fantastic stepped in at this point. His addition to the discussion was that nobody at the Mecca was an electrical engineer, so we should all just trust his man, who had been doing things right in Silicon Valley for over 25 years.
That's right, Captain Fantastic's consultant had managed to defy the laws of physics and produce Miracle FETs.
A couple of days later, the Sarcastic Brit got a voice mail from the consultant. It went something like this:
I was... um... looking at the data sheet for that FET... and... um... It looks like it does have a pretty high junction resistance... um... It looks like... um... it would probably... um... dissipate quite a bit of power at 20A. I don't think... um... that it will handle that much current.
For weeks after that, the Sarcastic Brit would play that message on his speaker phone and just grin. He would also occasionally forward a copy of it to Captain Fantastic. I think that it was the saddest day of his life when he learned that the phone system deletes old messages after two months.
Shortly after the phone message we had an engineering team meeting to discuss what everybody was working on. It turns out that of the six members of the engineering team at that time, exactly half of the team was composed of electrical engineers. In addition we discovered that the Sarcastic Brit was just waiting until the appropriate time to inform Captain Fantastic that he was one of those three electrical engineers.
Inconceivable.
Showing posts with label Miracle FET. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miracle FET. Show all posts
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Captain Fantastic
I was cleaning out some boxes lying around my cubicle and I stumbled upon a couple of old business cards. They have forced me to come about to starting the story of one of the most interesting characters to have graced the halls of the Biotech Mecca.
I have not yet written about the "engineer" known as Captain Fantastic because I have been unsure regarding where to begin. On the surface the Captain was not only likable, but also capable and creative. Unfortunately, that outward appearance was merely the facade of one who was willing to use flattery, deceit and antagonism to cover up his inability to get the job done. I realize that this judgment seems a wee bit harsh, but alas, I was forced to draw this conclusion based on the observations of nearly a full year.
The story starts after I interviewed to go work at the Biotech Mecca, but before I actually started. (Remembering that the intervening period was nearly eight months.) The Mad Man (former VP of Engineering) had hired the Sarcastic Brit, who had decided that he was tired of trying to find the proverbial fifth leg of the cat.
The former CTO (remember the guy who can't engineer his way out of a wet paper bag with a chain saw?) informed the Mad Man that he had "a really good guy" coming over for an interview. This guy would be the Director of Engineering, and would be starting immediately. By the way, he would be arriving in about ten minutes and you don't need to see his resume. Really?
Needless to say, the job interview was somewhat pointless. Captain Fantastic was in the door. Now, we fast forward to my first week of work. I had just towed a trailer across the continent in my poor old Nissan. My child had screamed the whole way. I was living in a hotel and had the movers calling daily, threatening to drop my family's belongings on the street if I didn't have a place to live by the time the truck arrived in town with our stuff. Needless to say, I was not at my best. My first task was to help Captain Fantastic try to find various pieces of strange equipment: a miniature vacuum forming machine, a platen press... I forget the others. I had never used any of this crap before. I certainly had no idea of where to find it, or even what he wanted it for.
At the end of the first week, my boss (the Mad Man from down south) informed me that Captain Fantastic had approached him to let him know that I was slow. I think that the Mad Man was more upset about it than I was. He had carefully recruited me from Canada, where I had worked for him for three years. He was pretty sure that I had not suffered from massive brain damage in the intervening time, and hence was probably not slow. At least one person had given me a vote of confidence.
The Captain spoke constantly of "when I had my company", which was apparently a very successful automation company, which he claimed he sold because it was just too much work. I often wondered why a guy who had operated and sold a successful company was driving a Honda Civic of 10+ years vintage. Perhaps 1998 was a particularly good year for Civics. Perhaps he had other vices than cars. I discovered that it certainly wasn't clothing - between the hawaiian shirts and the mohair suit.
One thing the captain had in spades was ready consultants. There was the electronics guy (Miracle FET) with "25 years experience", which the Sarcastic Brit soon revised to "F**king it up for 25 years in Silicon Valley. Miracle FET is worth a couple of postings on his own though, so I will save that for later. There was the Captain's sidekick, Smee, who later got a job teaching statistics at a local university. (Made all the more scary because I tried to explain some simple stats to her - only to be told that I was pontificating). Of course, this consultant wasn't up to the job she was given, and had to hire her own consultant to help out. I believe that her consultant actually brought in a consultant of his own as well. Again, this project is worth it's own post, or perhaps even two or three of them.
But... I digress.
After a short period of time, the Mad Man decided to split the project team into two sub teams: one doing optics, and the other working on the mechanics. In the interest of expediency, he decided that I would work with him on the optics, leaving the Sarcastic Brit to work with Captain Fantastic. The Sarcastic Brit seemed a little bit embittered by this. I later found out it was because he had already caught Captain Fantastic passing the Sarcastic Brit's ideas off as his own.
One of my first tasks was design of filter wheels. I started out with a nice simple design that had a couple of screws with washers to hold in the filters. Captain Fantastic told me that it was very poor practice to do that. You had to minimize the number of parts in the BOM. Those bolts and screws are just extra items in the Bill of Materials. They need to be removed. The proper way to do it is to machine springs into the aluminum. Presto - the filters are held in place and you only have one part in the Bill of Materials. I was dubious. He offered to model it up in Solid Works for me to show me how it was done. Perhaps he had a low opinion of me, but at least he was willing to teach me from his great fount of knowledge.
Unfortunately, he was much too busy to help me right then, but I dutifully followed his advice (being a Director and all) and tried to come up with a design with those machined springs. That design (the concept - not the implementation) has been the source of much mocking from every mechanical design guy that has walked in the door since. Apparently, that was only the way it was done in his head.
Next, we move on to the limit switches. I had selected nice, inexpensive ($6) limit switches. They were of a type that I had used before in other projects without incident. Captain Fantastic informed me that they would not work. He would know, afterall, he routinely bolted the limit switches onto instruments as they were going onto the truck. He picked out better switches. I believe he meant easier to use. I looked a the price - yikes, they were $60 each. Then, I did a quick tally: 11 limit switches in the instrument. I decided that it was time the Captain learned to use the cheap switches. Fortunately, the Mad Man and the Sarcastic Brit saw things my way.
Next, we move on to the selection of the motor. We had a problem with "ringing" of the filter wheel on the motor. Oddly enough, the wheel, coupled with the electromagnetic forces of the stepper motor makes a very nice pendulum. The Captain told me that I didn't understand. I told him that if we increased the torque of the motor the spring constant would go up, making the frequency of the oscillations higher and the amplitude lower. I had calculations that modled things, and the numbers worked. He still insisted that I had no clue. I reminded him that I have a degree in physics and may have some clue about how pendulums work. He told me that he had a three year degree (where I come from real degrees take four years) in mathematics from Santa Clara University. That's sort of like Stanford, right? Apparently I knew nothing.
Even after I switched to a higher powered motor and completely solved the problem, he insisted that the filter wheel needed to be redesigned. It just didn't work. I'm not sure how. It moved the filters into position and held them there. I think that sums up the functional requirements for a filter wheel quite nicely.
Now that I have started, there is so much to write about. There is "the drawer", that delayed the instrument prototype for three months. There is the "inconceivable" failure of the pressure sensitive adhesive, begging the draftsman to alter drawing dates, the accusations of sabotage, the lies, the threats, the yelling, the screaming, the backstabbing. Sorry... got out of control there. Looks like I have plenty of material for the next posting or 20.
By the way, you may want to check out this Captain Fantastic video from Do Not Adjust Your Set.
I have not yet written about the "engineer" known as Captain Fantastic because I have been unsure regarding where to begin. On the surface the Captain was not only likable, but also capable and creative. Unfortunately, that outward appearance was merely the facade of one who was willing to use flattery, deceit and antagonism to cover up his inability to get the job done. I realize that this judgment seems a wee bit harsh, but alas, I was forced to draw this conclusion based on the observations of nearly a full year.
The story starts after I interviewed to go work at the Biotech Mecca, but before I actually started. (Remembering that the intervening period was nearly eight months.) The Mad Man (former VP of Engineering) had hired the Sarcastic Brit, who had decided that he was tired of trying to find the proverbial fifth leg of the cat.
The former CTO (remember the guy who can't engineer his way out of a wet paper bag with a chain saw?) informed the Mad Man that he had "a really good guy" coming over for an interview. This guy would be the Director of Engineering, and would be starting immediately. By the way, he would be arriving in about ten minutes and you don't need to see his resume. Really?
Needless to say, the job interview was somewhat pointless. Captain Fantastic was in the door. Now, we fast forward to my first week of work. I had just towed a trailer across the continent in my poor old Nissan. My child had screamed the whole way. I was living in a hotel and had the movers calling daily, threatening to drop my family's belongings on the street if I didn't have a place to live by the time the truck arrived in town with our stuff. Needless to say, I was not at my best. My first task was to help Captain Fantastic try to find various pieces of strange equipment: a miniature vacuum forming machine, a platen press... I forget the others. I had never used any of this crap before. I certainly had no idea of where to find it, or even what he wanted it for.
At the end of the first week, my boss (the Mad Man from down south) informed me that Captain Fantastic had approached him to let him know that I was slow. I think that the Mad Man was more upset about it than I was. He had carefully recruited me from Canada, where I had worked for him for three years. He was pretty sure that I had not suffered from massive brain damage in the intervening time, and hence was probably not slow. At least one person had given me a vote of confidence.
The Captain spoke constantly of "when I had my company", which was apparently a very successful automation company, which he claimed he sold because it was just too much work. I often wondered why a guy who had operated and sold a successful company was driving a Honda Civic of 10+ years vintage. Perhaps 1998 was a particularly good year for Civics. Perhaps he had other vices than cars. I discovered that it certainly wasn't clothing - between the hawaiian shirts and the mohair suit.
One thing the captain had in spades was ready consultants. There was the electronics guy (Miracle FET) with "25 years experience", which the Sarcastic Brit soon revised to "F**king it up for 25 years in Silicon Valley. Miracle FET is worth a couple of postings on his own though, so I will save that for later. There was the Captain's sidekick, Smee, who later got a job teaching statistics at a local university. (Made all the more scary because I tried to explain some simple stats to her - only to be told that I was pontificating). Of course, this consultant wasn't up to the job she was given, and had to hire her own consultant to help out. I believe that her consultant actually brought in a consultant of his own as well. Again, this project is worth it's own post, or perhaps even two or three of them.
But... I digress.
After a short period of time, the Mad Man decided to split the project team into two sub teams: one doing optics, and the other working on the mechanics. In the interest of expediency, he decided that I would work with him on the optics, leaving the Sarcastic Brit to work with Captain Fantastic. The Sarcastic Brit seemed a little bit embittered by this. I later found out it was because he had already caught Captain Fantastic passing the Sarcastic Brit's ideas off as his own.
One of my first tasks was design of filter wheels. I started out with a nice simple design that had a couple of screws with washers to hold in the filters. Captain Fantastic told me that it was very poor practice to do that. You had to minimize the number of parts in the BOM. Those bolts and screws are just extra items in the Bill of Materials. They need to be removed. The proper way to do it is to machine springs into the aluminum. Presto - the filters are held in place and you only have one part in the Bill of Materials. I was dubious. He offered to model it up in Solid Works for me to show me how it was done. Perhaps he had a low opinion of me, but at least he was willing to teach me from his great fount of knowledge.
Unfortunately, he was much too busy to help me right then, but I dutifully followed his advice (being a Director and all) and tried to come up with a design with those machined springs. That design (the concept - not the implementation) has been the source of much mocking from every mechanical design guy that has walked in the door since. Apparently, that was only the way it was done in his head.
Next, we move on to the limit switches. I had selected nice, inexpensive ($6) limit switches. They were of a type that I had used before in other projects without incident. Captain Fantastic informed me that they would not work. He would know, afterall, he routinely bolted the limit switches onto instruments as they were going onto the truck. He picked out better switches. I believe he meant easier to use. I looked a the price - yikes, they were $60 each. Then, I did a quick tally: 11 limit switches in the instrument. I decided that it was time the Captain learned to use the cheap switches. Fortunately, the Mad Man and the Sarcastic Brit saw things my way.
Next, we move on to the selection of the motor. We had a problem with "ringing" of the filter wheel on the motor. Oddly enough, the wheel, coupled with the electromagnetic forces of the stepper motor makes a very nice pendulum. The Captain told me that I didn't understand. I told him that if we increased the torque of the motor the spring constant would go up, making the frequency of the oscillations higher and the amplitude lower. I had calculations that modled things, and the numbers worked. He still insisted that I had no clue. I reminded him that I have a degree in physics and may have some clue about how pendulums work. He told me that he had a three year degree (where I come from real degrees take four years) in mathematics from Santa Clara University. That's sort of like Stanford, right? Apparently I knew nothing.
Even after I switched to a higher powered motor and completely solved the problem, he insisted that the filter wheel needed to be redesigned. It just didn't work. I'm not sure how. It moved the filters into position and held them there. I think that sums up the functional requirements for a filter wheel quite nicely.
Now that I have started, there is so much to write about. There is "the drawer", that delayed the instrument prototype for three months. There is the "inconceivable" failure of the pressure sensitive adhesive, begging the draftsman to alter drawing dates, the accusations of sabotage, the lies, the threats, the yelling, the screaming, the backstabbing. Sorry... got out of control there. Looks like I have plenty of material for the next posting or 20.
By the way, you may want to check out this Captain Fantastic video from Do Not Adjust Your Set.
Labels:
Captain Fantastic,
CTO,
mad man from down south,
Miracle FET,
Sarcastic Brit,
Smee
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