The Chip

More than twenty years ago I read a book called The Chip by T.R. Reid,which detailed the history of the microchip, which has had such an enormous influence on almost every aspect of our lives. I was intrigued to find that the idea was conceived in Milwaukee. The book described how Jack Kilby got a degree in electrical engineering at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, and in 1947 got a job in Milwaukee. The firm he worked for refused to allow him to spend time on working out fully his revolutionary idea, and in 1958 he got a job with Texas Instruments in Dallas. A year later, TI took out a patent on his invention. A couple of years after that Robert Noyce, the co-founder of Intel, got a patent on a similar device, using silicon rather than germanium as the semiconductor. Silicon is one of the most common elements on our planet, so his research made it possible to produce integrated circuits in which all the expense was R&D and virtually none in production. A huge legal battle followed as to who had the right to what. (In the year 2004 integrated circuits were a $179 billion industry.) Nowadays the honors are shared between Kilby and Noyce, Kilby being recognized as the first discoverer, and Noyce as the first to make the process commercially viable.

Jack Kilby died on July 20, 2005. Like the inventor of the TV remote (who lived in Chicago: there must be something about the midwest air) he made nothing from his invention, which belonged to his employer. But five years ago he won a Nobel prize, the prestige of which exceeds the money that accompanies it.

Kilby's death reminded me of something else. Just as I finished reading The Chip all those years ago, my youngest son came to our house bringing three friends with him. They had been on the staff of a kid's camp in northern Wisconsin, were driving back to Chicago and civilization, and stopped off at our home in Milwaukee for a rest and some food. In chatting with one of the boys, I mentioned to him enthusiastically Reid's book. Since he seemed interested, I suggested he read it too. Years later, my son told me that he had run into this young man. He said that my casual conversation with him had a profound effect on his life. He had read the book, and was so interested that he resolved to get a qualification in that area of endeavor. And apparently he met with much success.

At any time you can say something without thinking, yet it has a significant effect somewhere else. King Solomon declared that "mere talk leads only to poverty," (Proverbs 14.23) which is mostly true, I guess, but occasionally it helps someone find their path in life.