There was a time when real heroes were selfless
June 23, 2005, 9:34PM
By LOREN STEFFY
I have a book on my shelf that I've never read. It's titled
Handbook of Semiconductor Manufacturing Technology, and
beyond the three-paragraph foreword, I understand almost
nothing of what's contained in its more than 1,100 pages.
The foreword, written by electronics pioneer Jack Kilby,
outlines the advancements in technology since a hot August
day in 1958 when a 34-year-old Kilby changed the world as
we know it.
That's when Kilby, working at a Texas Instruments lab in
north Dallas, invented the integrated circuit, the building block
of most modern devices. Kilby died this week at age 81 after a
brief battle with cancer.
If you're reading this, you have experienced the fruits of Kilby's
intellect, because it was written on a computer. If you've ever
used a cell phone, turned the key in the ignition of a late-model
car, heated up lunch in a microwave or had a pacemaker installed,
you've been touched by Kilby's legacy.
After I heard of Kilby's death, I pulled the book off my shelf
and reread the passage he wrote. The numbers are a little
dated, but those three paragraphs underscore both Jack Kilby,
the man, and the impact of his accomplishment.
"In 1958 ... a single silicon transistor sold for about $10. Today,
it is possible to buy more than 50 million transistors for that
price. This cost reduction has been unprecedented [and it has]
tremendously expanded the field of electronics. In 1958, the
most common electronic products were radios and television
sets, and the semiconductor market represented about $218
million. Today, semiconductors are found in everything from
automobiles to X-ray machines, and the worldwide market
exceeds $150 billion."
The thing that struck me as I read those words wasn't the
astounding growth Kilby discussed, it was the utter lack of
the first person. The pronoun "I" doesn't appear. Kilby goes
on to credit "tens of thousands of very capable engineers
working around the world" for the progress, yet never hints
at his own role.
Kilby was a man of few words, and none more sparing than
when he spoke of himself.
Robert Noyce had design
Just months after Kilby developed his idea, Robert Noyce,
who would go on to found Intel, devised a similar design, using
silicon instead of germanium. After years of patent battles
between their two companies, Kilby and Noyce agreed to share
credit, and the two companies licensed each other's designs.
In 2000, Kilby won the Nobel Prize in physics for his invention.
He later told me that the awards ceremony, presided over by
the king of Sweden, was "interesting." What he really wanted
to talk about, though, was Noyce, who died in 1990. Noyce, he
said, deserved to share the award with him, and he was sorry
that the Nobel, which isn't awarded posthumously, didn't reflect
Noyce's contribution.
Kilby went on to more discoveries, racking up 60 patents to his
name and helping with inventions such as the hand-held
calculator, another flagship TI product. He won the National
Medal of Science and the National Medal of Technology, one of
only 13 Americans to ever receive both.
Checks left uncashed
Kilby didn't care about fame or money or status. Friends tell
stories of tattered old cars and of large honorarium checks left
uncashed in a desk drawer for years. What mattered to Kilby
was the challenge of invention, the yen to solve a problem, the
thirst to find a better, more efficient way of doing things.
That commitment to science made him a folk hero among
engineers. At a company party before he left for Sweden, Kilby
was mobbed by employees asking him to sign T-shirts or slices
of silicon containing the descendants of his invention.
Kilby was inspiration far beyond his field. At a time when
society chooses its heroes from those obsessed with celebrity
and fortune, it's worth remembering a time when heroism
was about advancing human achievement, not pursuing
personal gain.
Jack Kilby never saw his accomplishment as a singular victory.
He saw the success of integrated circuits, the value of the
discovery to society, as the result of what others did with his
idea. That may be true, but somebody had to get them started.
The forward in my book ends with this line:
"The story is not over, and more progress can be expected."
Those words, perhaps better than any others, encapsulate the
legacy of Jack Kilby.
Loren Steffy is the Chronicle's business columnist. His
commentary appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Contact him at loren.steffy@chron.com.
His blog, Full Disclosure, is at blogs.chron.com/fulldisclosure.
HoustonChronicle.com -- http://www.HoustonChronicle.com Section: Business This article is: http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/business/3238855
By LOREN STEFFY
I have a book on my shelf that I've never read. It's titled
Handbook of Semiconductor Manufacturing Technology, and
beyond the three-paragraph foreword, I understand almost
nothing of what's contained in its more than 1,100 pages.
The foreword, written by electronics pioneer Jack Kilby,
outlines the advancements in technology since a hot August
day in 1958 when a 34-year-old Kilby changed the world as
we know it.
That's when Kilby, working at a Texas Instruments lab in
north Dallas, invented the integrated circuit, the building block
of most modern devices. Kilby died this week at age 81 after a
brief battle with cancer.
If you're reading this, you have experienced the fruits of Kilby's
intellect, because it was written on a computer. If you've ever
used a cell phone, turned the key in the ignition of a late-model
car, heated up lunch in a microwave or had a pacemaker installed,
you've been touched by Kilby's legacy.
After I heard of Kilby's death, I pulled the book off my shelf
and reread the passage he wrote. The numbers are a little
dated, but those three paragraphs underscore both Jack Kilby,
the man, and the impact of his accomplishment.
"In 1958 ... a single silicon transistor sold for about $10. Today,
it is possible to buy more than 50 million transistors for that
price. This cost reduction has been unprecedented [and it has]
tremendously expanded the field of electronics. In 1958, the
most common electronic products were radios and television
sets, and the semiconductor market represented about $218
million. Today, semiconductors are found in everything from
automobiles to X-ray machines, and the worldwide market
exceeds $150 billion."
The thing that struck me as I read those words wasn't the
astounding growth Kilby discussed, it was the utter lack of
the first person. The pronoun "I" doesn't appear. Kilby goes
on to credit "tens of thousands of very capable engineers
working around the world" for the progress, yet never hints
at his own role.
Kilby was a man of few words, and none more sparing than
when he spoke of himself.
Robert Noyce had design
Just months after Kilby developed his idea, Robert Noyce,
who would go on to found Intel, devised a similar design, using
silicon instead of germanium. After years of patent battles
between their two companies, Kilby and Noyce agreed to share
credit, and the two companies licensed each other's designs.
In 2000, Kilby won the Nobel Prize in physics for his invention.
He later told me that the awards ceremony, presided over by
the king of Sweden, was "interesting." What he really wanted
to talk about, though, was Noyce, who died in 1990. Noyce, he
said, deserved to share the award with him, and he was sorry
that the Nobel, which isn't awarded posthumously, didn't reflect
Noyce's contribution.
Kilby went on to more discoveries, racking up 60 patents to his
name and helping with inventions such as the hand-held
calculator, another flagship TI product. He won the National
Medal of Science and the National Medal of Technology, one of
only 13 Americans to ever receive both.
Checks left uncashed
Kilby didn't care about fame or money or status. Friends tell
stories of tattered old cars and of large honorarium checks left
uncashed in a desk drawer for years. What mattered to Kilby
was the challenge of invention, the yen to solve a problem, the
thirst to find a better, more efficient way of doing things.
That commitment to science made him a folk hero among
engineers. At a company party before he left for Sweden, Kilby
was mobbed by employees asking him to sign T-shirts or slices
of silicon containing the descendants of his invention.
Kilby was inspiration far beyond his field. At a time when
society chooses its heroes from those obsessed with celebrity
and fortune, it's worth remembering a time when heroism
was about advancing human achievement, not pursuing
personal gain.
Jack Kilby never saw his accomplishment as a singular victory.
He saw the success of integrated circuits, the value of the
discovery to society, as the result of what others did with his
idea. That may be true, but somebody had to get them started.
The forward in my book ends with this line:
"The story is not over, and more progress can be expected."
Those words, perhaps better than any others, encapsulate the
legacy of Jack Kilby.
Loren Steffy is the Chronicle's business columnist. His
commentary appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Contact him at loren.steffy@chron.com.
His blog, Full Disclosure, is at blogs.chron.com/fulldisclosure.
HoustonChronicle.com -- http://www.HoustonChronicle.com Section: Business This article is: http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/business/3238855
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