In the old days of “over the wall engineering,” all engineers had to do was throw drawings over the wall to manufacturing. That’s it. Nothing to worry about. Production planners and manufacturing folks would figure out how to make a product close to what designers were dreaming, sketching, and designing.
I’ve been fortunate having been given the chance to talk to many manufacturing companies ranging in size from small hardware startups to large manufacturing companies. In having done so, I’ve learned much from asking people about Bills of Materials, or BOM. Doing so exposes much about how a company designs, manufacturers, and services its products.
In my previous blog post, I provided an overview of what compliance certifications like UL, FCC, CE, and RoHS are, and what ones your new hardware product may need.
In this post, you'll get a sense of how much time and money your product planning should factor in to get them, along with other advice.
When my first engineering internship turned into a full-time job after graduation, my supervisor called me in for a chat. He wanted to talk about possible opportunities in the company, and give me some advice based on his experiences. When he asked me where I saw myself in five to six years, I told him I expected to be in management. I didn’t have the gall to say it to his face, but basically I figured I wanted his job.
A new year is a time for renewal, opportunity, and new beginnings. For engineers, however, it's a chance to argue about part numbers some more. I love the smell of part numbers in the morning. Whether your allegiance lies with the Generic Numbering Coalition (GNC) or the Confederacy of Intelligent Numbers (CIN), valid arguments worth defending exist on both sides. We've covered both factions and spaces in-between. The pursuit of part number perfection, however, may lie in mutually assured destruction. The part number is a lie. For one day, perhaps sooner than you think, part numbers will be no more.
In all the fireworks debating whether software engineering is somehow a subversive underling of "real" engineering, we've only touched on the underlying core issue: engineering ethics. In the Twitterverse, many were quick to invoke the Calling of the Engineer ceremony, specifically citing a symbolic iron ring as indicative of the higher standard for which software engineers are not invited. Here's the problem: costume jewelry doesn't magically impart ethics, unless perhaps you graduated from Hogwarts. I might as well have fabulous secret powers revealed to me, hold aloft my magic sword, and say "By the power of engineering!" Fantastic magical crap aside, what then is the root of ethics in engineering?
What if you had a dollar for every time someone grumbled about a young engineering grad creating impossible to manufacture designs due to lack of practical experience? And what if you also had a dollar for every engineering grad that wished their degree program gave them more job relevant skills and/or some viable experience? You'd probably have something like two times infinity dollars, and I'd be writing your biography for a perfectly reasonable six-figure retainer. If you're in engineering school now, there's no reason to wait for a miracle in education reform. Take matters into your own hands and be part of your school's cooperative education (co-op) engineering program.
It's been about a year since we boldly declared drawings dead, and despite citing some major caveats about the accessibility of enabling tools, the conversation nonetheless sparked a wee bit of controversy. A strong theme in that conversation focused on how classically drafted information critical to the design (tolerances, material specifications, surface treatments, finishes, etc.) can possibly remain readily accessible in an all-digital future. Especially difficult to imagine was how someone on the shop floor trying to run an inspection could possibly be hassled with all this new-fangled PMI garbage by fumbling a tablet from “those $%@# engineers.”
The venerable Engineering Change Order (ECO) has certainly had its day in the opulent halls of classical change management, but thanks to technology, ECOs might very well be on the path to extinction. Last time we mentioned that ECOs are slow and stupid, we emphasized that reducing overall ECO cost involves more than just reducing avoidable change. The second half of that battle involves the change process itself, evolving it to be both more agile and effective. Protip: It’s all about addressing the weaknesses of unincorporated change.