Perpetual Motion and Design
I felt a little uncomfortable about the situation as I waited for Sam. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but there was something that made me feel uneasy. Sam was working on a new invention and had asked me to do some engineering consulting for him. He was willing to pay a fair consulting fee and I was confident that he had the means and intent to pay. There is also risk in doing work for friends or family. But none of these things were the problem.
I pushed back the unsettled feeling that was still lingering so that I could concentrate on the technical problem that was about to be explained.
“Follow me,” Sam said, and he led me to his home office. He directed me to sit down where I could see his presentation.
“What you are about to see,” Sam began, “is going to change the world as we know it!”
No! I screamed in my mind as I realized what was coming. What have I gotten myself into!
“Many of society’s biggest problems, such as national security, energy availability and pollution are solved by my invention.”
What have I done!
“Others have tried and some think it’s impossible. But that is because of their ignorance. Ignorance!”
On, no!
I sat trying not to look as uncomfortable as I felt. Then he unveiled his invention. I already suspected what it was and now there was no doubt. I was looking at a perpetual motion machine.
“With enough of these we can provide the power for everything in the world! We won’t be dependent on foreign oil. We won’t burn coal for electricity. Imagine the possibilities!”
He then excitedly explained how the device would work. And then came the inevitable line accompanying perpetual motion machines: “There’s just one more thing to work out,” he explained.
That would be changing the laws of nature, I thought.
“And that’s why you’re here,” he added with emphasis to make sure I knew how lucky I was to be seeing this at all.
He explained what he understood to be the problem. I listened carefully. By the time he was done with his explanation, I had calmed down. I sat back in the chair and thought for a minute. I then leaned forward and tried to explain the situation.
“The real problem,” I began, “is the law of conservation of energy.”
He sat down in a chair with a sad look. “I thought you’d say that,” he said. But it wasn’t clear if he was concerned that laws of nature were against him or if he thought I just wasn’t open-minded enough to recognize the beauty of the invention.
I explained the basic concepts of the device and the challenge it would have in producing more energy than was put into it.
“I’d like to see more proof,” he said. “I want you to show me what you think the problem is and then I can fix it.”
I nodded, we had some small talk and I left. I spent a couple of hours writing a report for him with illustrations and mathematics specific to his machine. I didn’t charge for my time, but I worried about the potential damage to our friendship. He had shown me something that was precious to him and I had not appreciated it. That can be a difficult thing to recover from.
This would not be the last perpetual motion machine I’d see in my career, but I would often reflect on this particular experience. I could feel empathy for Sam when working on my own novel projects. Sometimes when things would get hard, I would worry that maybe I was unknowingly pursing not just a difficult design, but an infeasible one.
In creating new things, you are often stepping out into the unknown to do something that has never been done before. This means that there is no one to show you the way and you wonder if it has not been done before because, like the perpetual motion machine, there are fundamental reasons why it won’t work, or because you’ve just not yet found the solution. Sometimes in engineering design you are a pioneer pushing into a new domain and there is no one to guide you. This can be both exhilarating and terrifying.
When something isn’t working, I wonder if it is because I’m not trying hard enough, or because there are fundamental reasons why it is just not feasible? Am I really close to the solution or am I years away? Is there something simple that I’m just not seeing yet or is there a fundamental flaw? Oh, the questions that come when you step into the unknown!
These questions can be healthy so long as they lead to understanding and not paralysis. Here are three approaches that can be helpful: First, it is wise to take a step back and look at the most basic fundamentals through analogy, calculations, computer simulation, or simplified prototype hardware. I’ve seen serious engineering design problems surface after significant time and energy had been invested, but that could have been avoided with a simple free-body diagram early on. Second, another approach, if done cautiously and not defensively, can be talking to naysayers. Listen carefully to what they say – is their concern because it would disrupt the status quo, or because there is a fundamental problem. Finally, consider why the problem is relevant. Is it because recent advances or new connections make it possible? Have new needs risen to make it relevant now when it wasn’t before? Or is there is a long history of unsuccessful attempts by others? If the latter, then carefully evaluate if there is some genuine reason why you can create a solution when others have failed (and just being convinced that you are smarter than everyone else is not good enough). Thinking through these things can help you exit ill-fated projects early or encourage you to persevere and accomplish things that are unique and meaningful.
