The spirit in design

Jim Williams and Bob Pease have not left us; their spirits live throughout the community in everyone they’ve touched and helped, and in every electronic device we hold and use.

Patrick Mannion, Director of content -- EDN, July 14, 2011

Even after only a few months in “the biz,” I knew that these two guys were something special, and here, right in my hands, was the physical embodiment of a tiny portion of what they knew or how they thought. I was going to read their books, from cover to cover … after I got my next story out. So, I took them home, put them on my shelf, and got back to work.

Fast-forward 20 years—and many stories later—and those two books were still sitting side by side on a shelf, except the shelf had changed—from an apartment in New York, to an apartment in New Jersey, to a house in New York, and to another house in New York. Besides the shelf, the addition of a wife, two kids, a dog, and a couple of gray hairs, nothing much else had changed: I still was going to read those books, and I was someday going to meet Williams and Pease face to face.


So here I am, wondering how to say goodbye to two heroes I’ve never met, meanwhile asking myself how they became so great and who or what will fill the gap they’ve left behind? I finally reached for those two books, and the answers to the questions became quickly apparent.

Lacking a formal education, Williams relied upon his own indomitable spirit, curiosity, and love of analog to rise to the top of his profession. Beyond all the formulas, diagrams, laws, and general chaos that is analog design, though, what is it that makes a designer great?

Williams himself gave some pointers: “The single greatest asset a designer can have is self-knowledge. Knowing when your thinking feels right and when you’re trying to fool yourself.” He added, “Knowing your strengths and weaknesses, prowesses and prejudices. Learning when to ask questions and when to believe your answers.”

Besides the passion for electronics and hands-on learning, both Williams and Pease had another quality: humility, along with a recognition that they owed those who came before them. Both acknowledged the many contributions of op-amp pioneer George Philbrick to their personal and career development, and Pease paid special homage in his book to the late Bruce Seddon, an engineer who helped him “appreciate the niceties of worst-case design.” Seddon always lent his ear and helping hand. Wrote Pease, “And if I never got around to saying thank you—well, 30 years is a long time to be an ungrateful, lazy bum, but now’s the time to say, ‘Thank you, Bruce.’”

Pease took the example of Seddon to heart and practiced the same principles, day in and day out, as did Williams in his own way. It’s with that example in mind that I acknowledge the futility of looking for other heroes to fill the space they leave behind or of the need to say goodbye.

Many heroes are out there today, from the ones we know—Barrie Gilbert, Bonnie Baker, Howard Johnson, Dan Sheingold, Walt Jung, and Walt Kester—to the up-and-comers EDN’s Paul Rako points to: Bob Thomas at Cisco, Francis Lau at Tyco/Elo Touch, Eric Schlaepfer at Maxim, and Mark Thoren and Glen Brisebois at Linear Technology.

Both peers and newcomers alike are wiser and better for having had the gift of Williams and Pease. They have not left us; their spirits live throughout the community in everyone they’ve touched and helped, and in every electronic device we hold and use. So, there is no need to say goodbye; just a simple thank-you is enough.

Contact me at patrick.mannion@ubm.com.