Got chance to tour a Western Mass. “advanced manufacturing” facility with colleagues who are focused on science, tech, engineering and math (the “STEM-cell stuff,” as one Norm Crosby-esque boss of mine/former pol used to botch it). The tour gave me a firsthand sense of what goes on behind the bland-looking walls of the cryptically named companies that dot today’s NE industrial parks. Like the machine shops that made NE famous, but now building body parts, instead of engine parts.
We all got shock-resistant smocks to make sure we didn’t cause a spark that could throw off the processes. The company reps showed us a laser for sealing their products. Important stuff cos they build implantable heart pumps designed for people awaiting heart transplants. The scientists held the sample in a small velvety-looking pouch. Reminded me of Rat Race when Mr. Bean is carrying a real heart.
Despite my years of snide, uninformed put-downs of science work, I realized the scientists at this “advanced manufacturing” shop were jovial and truly happy with their work. Moreover, what they did could actually help people. (I couldn’t help thinking that their gadget probably would have prolonged the life of my oldest brother, whose heart transplant failed 20 years earlier.)
To be sure, these scientists were also very business-oriented. They chuckled briefly when I broached the idea of marketing the electrostatic smocks in the retail economy for thunderstorm protection. Then they descended naturally into talk of skunkworks, supply chains, line balancing, time studies, continuous improvement—all heavy on efficiency. (Even could they shorten the number of steps the scientists have to take between two crucial machines?) I was going to ask what happens if a partner has a new idea not focused on efficiency, but I held back. It was time to keep my cynical instincts in check; I was really buying this stuff now, thinking I should have been a scientist.
The scientists at the advanced manufacturing shop noted how difficult it was to draw talent to places like theirs outside the Boston market. Which seemed odd given the wealth of higher ed institutions just up the road around Amherst, Hadley and Northampton. (Not to mention the kielbasa outlet I had passed on the way to the facility, which seemed to shout Western Mass. to me.) But those famous colleges were not breeding technicians. Indeed, the last time I was in these parts, I had traveled to UMass for a conference on reinventing Marxism. Not much STEM talk there.
Fired up on lifesaving science, I braved the streets of dingy Springfield to buy my daughter a souvenir at the NBA Hall of Fame. Not much Marx talk there.
