Never quite practical enough to become an engineer, I have long had an ‘academic crush’ on engineering. Down in the sub-sub-basement machine shop, I was taught the tantalizingly long spiraled aluminum shavings that signal a good cut on the lathe; how to smoothly slow a barely perceptible rattle in the cut; and the glory of washing off the oil and metal shavings with green lava shop soap. This University of Chicago machine shop linked me to a rich scientific history, but at MIT the focus was the future. Marveling at giant inflatable robots, I was taught why 3D printing is slow and wasteful and usually the wrong tool for the job, and the joy of making press-fit parts by quickly iterating designs in a laser cutter.
That’s all background. Also background: the present pandemic. I’ve been craving ways to feel useful. Making (socially distant) food donations, connecting with (socially distant) loved ones, and continuing some (socially distant) science all feel fairly good, but I was greedy for something even more personally tailored. No, I’m too snobby for 3D printing to feel right. No, I don’t want to join a ‘volunteer army’ to transport covid-19 patients around Manhattan.
But yes yes yes I want to train you two on our department’s laser cutter; see you iterate a press-fit hospital face-shield design with a paper engineer on video chat after it was too tight around my glasses; hear crazy stories about how each half-ton roll of plastic was procured; print a few more masks for you to demo; know you are in contact with multiple hospitals and companies and aim to get this implemented at scale. In light of my background, that’s all I wanted you to appreciate.