Archive for the ‘chumby’ Category

Where Have All the Innovators Gone?

Tuesday, February 13th, 2007

People have often asked me, now that I have some perspective on China, what I think will happen to the US. Can we compete? Will we continue to lead? I’m quite bullish about the US in general, but I had an interesting reality check tonight. I’m at ISSCC 2007 right now (where I and my former colleagues at Luxtera had the honor of receiving an “outstanding paper” award for work presented at last years’ conference), and I was chatting with UCSD high speed integrated circuits professor Jim Buckwalter about the nature of the graduate student applications he has received.

The statistics were astonishing. Of the thousands of applicants, only 80 were from the US. To put this in perspective, he had more applicants with the surname “Lee” alone than he had domestic applicants. And UCSD engineering is no slouch; according to the rankings they are #11 in engineering overall. Even more interesting is that apparently Korean students studying in the US get Korean-government sponsored fellowships–clearly that gives them an edge when considering who to take into your graduate program.

The enormous disparity in domestic applicants to higher education in crucial fields such as high speed circuit design is a bit disturbing. With numbers like these, it is inevitable that the US will lose its edge in technology. I guess it wouldn’t be as bad if these foreign students actually stayed in the US and started companies, but my experience in China has shown that just about every company I talked to had US-educated management from schools like Berkeley and Stanford.

Now, a protectionist mode of thought would suggest that we should put quotas on the number of foreign people we admit to our universities. That doesn’t work because US citizens don’t want to go to graduate school in electrical engineering, as evidenced by the paltry showing of domestic applicants, and forcing them in doesn’t make us more competitive in the global sense.

As the son of Chinese immigrants born and raised in the cornfields of Michigan, clearly I’m disposed to argue that we should try harder to woo these brilliant foreign minds to graduate and set up shop here in the US. Back when my parents came, staying in the US was an easy decision, because China was not a land of opportunity. But in this new global economy, the US no longer has the monopoly on opportunity. That’s the big paradigm shift here that I think we aren’t internalizing. We are no longer “the land of opportunity”– we’re now just one of the better places to find an opportunity.

When you don’t have a monopoly, it means there is competition. We need to compete to retain foreign talent, but instead, we hassle them away. I just wrote a green card recommendation for a brilliant photonic circuit designer. It seems weird that he has received such scrutiny and is going through such detailed background checks when anyone who lives in a border town like San Diego knows there is another easier way for immigrants to sneak into the country and make a living–and I have a feeling the guys sneaking in don’t have PhDs in electrical engineering. And it really bugs me that a brilliant Iranian circuit designer friend of mine just got interrogated by the FBI out of the blue, but presumably motivated because of current events in the world. He’s not a terrorist, and he doesn’t make nukes, despite his Farsi-sounding name. He is a core technical contributor in a US electronics company whose work has been critically peer-recognized as innovative and valuable. We should be rolling out the red carpet for these innovators, and not making them feel like aliens.

While I understand the motivations of many of our immigration policies, it is becoming clear to me that in practice, something is broken here, and the loser will be the US. The beauty of a melting pot is that we have the opportunity to incorporate the best and brightest minds into our culture; instead we skim the cream and throw it away, simply because they are the easiest and most cooperative targets. The system is hassling the people who are educated, and rewards those who are not. This is because the educated ones know the rules and are held to a high standard, and those who don’t know the rules often are not well educated so they have well-meaning public advocates who try to represent and defend their interests.

Of course, these privileged foreigners don’t need public advocates, and they don’t make a fuss, so their problems rarely garner the attention of the public eye. They are resourceful, self-sufficient, and they have other options–if the US gives them the run around, they can always take their good ideas and start a company back at home.

Seeing Through Circuit Boards

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

I’m resolving some manufacturing challenges in the new chumby design and had the opportunity to use an X-ray board inspection tool. This tool is what you want to use if, for example, you wanted to reverse engineer a circuit board with buried or hidden traces. It also lets you see through the packages and inspect the quality of the wirebonds. This particular system has a feature that let you rotate the board as you inspected it so you can look at it at an angle–which is actually really cool to see live, it’s sort of like flying through the circuit board. I wish I had a video of it but I didn’t bring my camera into the shop today.

Anyways, I thought those who have never seen this capability before would find the following pictures interesting and perhaps thought provoking.

Nothing hides from the X-ray eye!

Akihabara, Eat Your Heart Out

Wednesday, January 31st, 2007

Ten years ago, Akihabara was the place to be for the latest electronics and knick knacks and components. I’m convinced the new place to be is the SEG Electronics Market in Shenzhen (although to be fair I heard there is a competing market in Korea that’s supposedly even better–the Japanese test-market their stuff there even before they try it in Akihabara!).

As I first step foot into the building, I am assaulted by a whirlwind of electronic components. Tapes and reels of resistors and capacitors, ICs of every type, inductors, relays, pogo pin test points, voltmeters, trays of memories, all crammed into tiny six-by-three foot booths with a storekeeper poking away at a laptop, sometimes playing Go, sometimes counting parts. Some booths are true mom-and-pop shops, with mothers tending to babies and kids playing in the aisles.

Other booths are professional setups with uniformed staff and work like a bar for electronic components, complete with bar stools.

And it’s not like, oh, you can get ten of these LEDs or a couple of these relays like you do in Akihabara. No, no. These booths specialize and if you see something you like, you can usually buy several tubes, trays or reels of it–you can go into production the next day. Over there, a woman sorting stacks of 1GB mini-SD cards like poker chips; here, a man putting sticks of 1 GB Kingston memory into retail packages, next to him, a girl counting resistors.

Stacks of power supplies, varistors, batteries; ROM programmers. Atmel, Intel, Broadcom, Samsung, Yamaha, Sony, AMD, Fujitsu, every variety of chip. Some of them clearly ripped out of used equipment and remarked, some of them in brand new laser-marked OEM packaging.

Chips that I couldn’t dream of buying in the US, reels of rare ceramic capacitors that I only dream about at night. My senses tingle, my head spins. I can’t supress a smirk of anticipation as I walk around the next corner, to see shops stacked floor to ceiling with probably a hundred million resistors and capacitors.

Oh my god! Sony CCD and CMOS camera elements, I couldn’t buy those in the US if I pulled teeth out of the sales reps–and behind the counter, the guy sometimes has a datasheet–ask for it. A stack of Micrel regulator chips–over there, a Blackfin DSP chip for sale. The smell, the bustle, the hustle. It’s the ultimate electronic component flea market. Over here, a lady counting 256 Mbit DRAM chips…trays of 108 components, stacked twenty high, a row of perhaps 10 of them–she has the equivalent of Digikey’s entire stock of DRAM chips sitting right in front of me.

And across from her is a half dozen more little shops packed with chips just like hers. A man standing proudly over a tray of 4 Gbit NAND FLASH. All of this available for a little haggling, a bit of cash, and a hasty goodbye. This is Digikey gone mad. It’s as if they let the monkeys into the warehouse at Thief River Falls, Minnesota and spilled it into a flea market in China, and then some.

And that’s just the first two floors. Six more floors of computer components, systems, laptops, motherboards, digital cameras, security cameras, thumb drives, mice, video cameras, high end graphics cards, flat panel displays, shredders, lamps, projectors, you name it. On weekends, “booth babes” dressed in outrageous Acer-branded glittery body suits are loitering around trying to pull you in to buy their wares. It’s got all the energy of a year-round CES meets Computex, except the point here is not to show off the latest technology–it’s to get you in to these booths to buy it. Trade shows always feel like a bit of a strip tease, with your breath making ghostly rings on the glass as you hover close over the unobtainable wares underneath. This is no strip tease. This is the orgy of consumer and industrial electronic purchasing, you can get your grubby paws on every piece of equipment for enough quai out of your wallet.

A brisk walk down the street 3 blocks lies the Shenzhen bookstore. The first and most visible rack of books is a foreign book section, packed with classic books like Thomas Lee’s RF design book and several Razavi titles. I pick up Lee’s book…68 quai, or $8.50. Holy cow! Jin Au Kong’s book on Maxwell’s Equations…$5. Jin Au Kong taught me Maxwell’s Equations at MIT. I go on a spree…I pack my bag with six or seven titles, probably around $700 worth of books, and I go to the checkout counter and buy them for less than $35–complete with the supplemental CDs.That’s like an economy class ticket to Hong Kong right there!

Knowledge is cheap. Components are cheap. The knowledege in those books are the Real Deal, and the parts down the street are all there. And within an hours drive north is probably 200 factories that can take any electronics idea and pump them out by the literal boatload…and these are no backward factories. I saw with my own eyes name-brand 1550nm single-mode long-haul fiberoptic transcievers being built and tested out there. Shenzhen is fertile ground. You need to come here to see it to understand it. As a technologist from the US, I tremble in my boots, with terror and excitement–I get to be a part of this! This place has the pregnant feel of the swapfests in Silicon Valley back in the 80’s, when all the big companies were just being founded and starting up…except magnified by 25 years of progress in Moore’s Law and the speed of information flow via the Internet. In this city of 12 million people, most involved in tech or manufacturing, plenty of foreign influence, many learning English, all of them willing to work hard, there has to be a Jobs and Wozniak somewhere, quietly building the next revolution.

Okay, so this wasn’t a name that ware…it’s lame, but my dog ate my homework. I lost my digital camera on the way to Shenzhen in the plane somewhere, so now someone has a camera full of pictures from Christmas, factories, bachelor parties, and idiosyncratic amounts of close-up shots of electronics. The guy who found it has to think I’m a weirdo (I guess I can’t deny that!). I’ll find another ware and put it up soon–give me a couple of days!

Real Sichuan Food

Wednesday, January 31st, 2007

Despite growing up in a Chinese family (granted, a Chinese family in the midwest of the USA), until last week, I was never exposed to real Sichuan food. Sure, sure, I had sampled many of the restaraunts in various cities in the US, but typically the cuisine was Cantonese, Shanghainese, Taiwanese or at best Hunan. Eating real Sichuan food in China (yes, I was back there again!) was a bit of an experience.

Soo…above was a chicken dish I had. Well, chicken is sort of applied in the loosest of ways. It’s more like chicken hidden in a sea of red peppers. You sort of pick your way through it, looking for morsels of chicken, and the bolder ones of course just eat it all. But that wasn’t the most interesting thing.

Above is the real Ma Poa Tofu. It looks innocuous enough, but to my surprise, there is a spice I have never had before. My hosts couldn’t translate the English name to me, but it turns out to be, according to Wikipedia, the Sichuan Pepper.

That’s it up there. In Chinese, the word for “spicy hot” is la. The word to describe the effect of the spice pictured above in Chinese is ma–and that’s the “Ma” in Ma Poa Tofu that I had been missing all my life (nice how ma and la rhyme, huh? makes for some poetic sounding dinner conversation and cheeky sayings about the Sichuanese in Mandarin). Many of us are familiar with the la sensation–that burning, five-alarm sensation in your mouth. Ma is something else. Your lips tingle and numb. Your mouth tingles. As you swallow it, your stomach feels strangely warm and tingly all over. It’s definitely spicey, but it’s not hot…it’s…ma. I think the ma sensation fights the hot-spicey sensation so you can eat more of it. Or something like that. But everything they say about how hot Sichuan food is, is true. And anecdotally, just as addicting. My friend was telling me that his friend’s girlfriend is from Sichuan, and apparently if she doesn’t eat at least one scorchingly hot meal a day, she gets extremely irritable and very aggressive.

I’m wondering how in all my years eating Chinese in the US, I have never come across this spice. The Wikipedia page notes briefly that the FDA banned it from 1968 to 2005, which may have something to do with it.

You learn something new every day. Speaking of learning new things, did I ever mention that the Irish slang for an unstable object is “wonky” (for example, a table with uneven legs is a wonky table)? I learned that too on this trip, from a joke this Irish girl told me at a pub: Q: What do you call a three-legged Donkey? A: A Wonkey. Q: What do you call a three-legged donkey with one eye? A: A winkey-wonky…I tell you, Shenzhen is growing up to be a rather international place!

And another factoid for you: there are seven women for every man in Shenzhen. I have no idea how true this is–my host asserted this to me–but it seems consistent with the ratios I’ve seen in every factory, office, store, and pub in that city.

The Sichuan chef’s arsenal…

Lack of religion does not mean lack of morality

Sunday, December 10th, 2006

There’s a fairly vigorous thread going on in the discussion of the previous article, and I wanted to clarify some points that I am making about China. I appreciate that people have taken the time to read the article and give such thoughtful commentary, so hopefully I can do their comments justice, although it’s a bit like trying to talk to twelve points at once.

I think the basic objection that people have in the previous article is that they believe I am associating a lack of religion with a lack of morality. This is not the case. I myself am fairly atheist. I was born a Catholic but I haven’t really followed up with it (sorry, mom), finding that I had a lot of disagreements with the Catholic church and its history of hypocrisy. I am still a very spiritual person, however. Having been through the process of thinking about religion and considering it carefully, I was forced to think about morality, so to some extent the absence of religion in this case is as defining as the presence of religion. So no, I’m not saying that atheists are amoral. And I’m also not saying that the Chinese are atheist. An atheist states “there is no deity”; the attitude that I met in China is “what deity?”.

The point of starting with religion as a root of morality (not the root!) was to ground the discussion in a reference point that I am familiar with. However, I transitioned away from that in the article over a single sentence, a point that I did not expound greatly upon, and I will do now in this post. The sentence I refer to is this:

“I was talking to some of the locals who were familiar with both Chinese and Western cultures, and it seems that in the absence of religion, the moral code is primarily enforced by family: loyalty, family reputation (or disgrace), and social status.”

I believe that morality has its roots in many sources. Religion is a very American source for morality. However, the world is not America. Family and tradition are just as important in other cultures, a fact which I perhaps too glibly accepted in the previous article without exposition. I myself am Chinese, and I know many Chinese of no religious background who are very moral, upright individuals, so clearly one can be moral without religion. However, I was never forced to consider where the roots of such morality would come, if they were not exposed to the 10 commandments and nuns, like I was, at a young age.

Let’s take a step back. I think–perhaps wrongly–that morality is essentially the system of default assumptions that enables a large group of humans to co-exist. The power of defaults is amazing–how many people still use IE as their web browser? How many people still type QWERTY, despite it being a keyboard layout designed to slow down typing? The conflict of defaults is also very powerful; it is perhaps no small chance that the “vi versus emacs” debate is often termed a religious war (fwiw, I’m an emacs guy, and I use dvorak too. I suppose if I can reject Catholicism I can reject QWERTY, too), and there is vigorous debate over the default assumption of a marriage being a union between a man and a woman.

Now the question is, how is a default imposed upon an infant or an adult? In my opinion, moral defaults are imprinted through consistent exposure to societal rituals and judgements. Therefore, the most important source of moral imprinting is your family, because you spend the most time with them growing up. The customs and traditions of your family influence your views of the world. A first generation Chinese American myself, I was exposed to the strength of the family unit. Cultures tend to make unique names for things important to them; the Chinese have an extentsive naming system for extended family relationships. I call my parent’s friends, who have no blood relationship to me, Auntie or Uncle, as a sign of respect and trust. Confucianism adds a layer of almost “religious” cohesion on top of this basic foundation, with its emphasis on relationships, filial piety, and humaneness: “Do not do to others what you would not like them to do to you”–parallel to the Christian saying “Do onto others as you would have done on yourself”. At Chinese New Years, I bow to my parents, and I also bow to the graves of ancestors, and we have shrines to our ancestors. Therefore, one could say that the Chinese have a deity-free religion of ancestry and tradition. Or you could say they have no religion, but they have their moral code enforced by a strong sense of family and family ethics. For the specific case of sleeping around, sleeping around is bad for a tight-knit family culture, since it leads to accidental pregnancies that can greatly upset the balance of power in families, especially when land titles and estates were merged and undone by family relationships. Thus, I’m going out on a limb, but it appears logical that many traditional Chinese would have a very straight moral ethic when it comes to sexual relationships.

The important point is that family exposure is constant and imprinting, thereby creating defaults. Parallel to this, religion also imprints through constant exposure and teaching. Christians go to church every weekend; Muslims pray several times a day. Regular study of the Bible, Koran, or Torah causes us to change our thought patterns. These books are filled with parables that are meant to imprint a certain pattern of thought, and our religious advisors help us interpret and understand these challenging and extensive texts. Of course, families are also important in these cultures. However, the key difference between religion versus family is that a religion is formally codified and therefore a child estranged of family can find guidance in the church, mosque or synagogue (for better or for worse…).

Coming full circle, my point in the article is that the modern China has interfered with several of the classic mechanisms used to imprint ethics and manners: religion, tradition, and scholarship were done away with in the Cultural Revolution, leaving nothing but family and the rule of law. The rule of law is indeed strict, but even in China it does not have an all-seeing eye, and the favor of law can be bought anyways. The most important pillar – family – was attacked by the one child per family policy, thinning the ranks of extended family and causing many children to become spoiled. The coup de grace is the mass emigration of young people from the country into the city, where they leave their family behind. Here, with no familial supervision, and no traditional teaching, texts, or religion to refer to, they float in a moral vacuum. Again, this doesn’t mean they are amoral, it just means they have no defaults to rely upon, and they must create a version of morality for themselves, de novo. Perhaps a friendlier term for “moral vacuum” could be “innocence”–innocence has a connotation closer to what I am getting at.

Therefore, I should restate an opinion in the article to more accurately reflect these conclusions: I said that perhaps American morality is 5% inherent, 15% fear of law, and 80% customs and traditions (not necessarily religious, but it does include religion). Perhaps I should have made the Chinese comparison as follows: 5% inherent, 40% fear of law, 10% customs and traditions, and 45% innocence. Innocence, like a vacuum, is neither good nor evil, and it tends to be filled with other things, and these young people were filling it in the philosophy of “to become rich is glorious”.

And that was the truly shocking point about the women in the Hard Rock Cafe in Beijing. They did not believe they were prostitutes, no more than the women in American bars who come up to you, chest forward, asking you to buy them a drink (and nothing more), believe they are. [Note that no where in the previous sentence did I declare anyone a prostitute; the sentence is left deliberately vague to accomodate your world view]. It is simply a matter of scale along the same vector. Consider, however, that some would be upset upon learning that their significant other uses their sexuality in bars to score drinks from strangers. Now, remember that many, if not most, people would not use their sexuality to go up to a stranger and ask them to pay for their drinks–just as most Chinese women would never offer sex for money. I am not casting broad judgement upon Chinese society from this limited experience: it is clearly a corner case. However, as every engineer knows, the corner cases are the most interesting and informative cases. Therefore, in my previous article I contemplate (perhaps incorrectly) what could have lead to this, and what the implications could be for an up and coming generation that will play a major role in defining the world we live in.

As a final point, I extend the concept of a “moral vacuum”–remember, neither good nor evil, but it needs to be filled, so perhaps a better phrasing is “moral innocence”–to the realm of MMORPGs. An MMORPG is a society like any other, yet no Biblical text tells you how to live in one (unless you consider Snowcrash to be Biblical), and certainly my parents have no notion of what an MMORPG is. There is also virtually no rule of law in an MMORPG, and the cost of doing something “bad” in an MMORPG is currently almost nothing. Therefore, the observation that overt commercial sexuality is rampant in some MMORPGs shines a new light on the adage “prostitution is the oldest profession” for me.

The contemplation of morality and MMORPGs is a new thread, however, probably best saved for another post on another day.