Read Online Dealers of Lightning by Michael Hiltzik - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Hiltzik
Tags: Non-Fiction
Ads: Link
research conducted in a pristine setting with Xerox's copious cash. "We're talking real money, George," he said, showing him the growth plan for a lab that would employ 300 professionals within four years.
Pake hesitated, wondering about Xerox's resolve over the long haul. "I had a lot of friends at other industrial research establishments and the usual thing they were worried about was the feast-or-famine effect," he said later. "You know, in the good business years the company invests in research, but in the bad years they want to pull out." That was a recipe for wasting millions of dollars. "Research is a steady-state thing. You can't just turn it on and off."
Goldman tried his best to be reassuring. He reminded Pake that in 1944 the Haloid Company had offered Chester Carlson research support when no other corporation would. Carlson had scarcely anything to demonstrate the potential of his invention other than a tiny scrap of paper on which he had duplicated his own scrawled "10-22-38 Asto ria"—the date and place of his first successful xerographic copy. The company that was now Xerox had invested in that improbable invention for fifteen years before the first Model 914 came off the production line in 1959 and made its fortune. Long-range research? Was there an enter prise anywhere in the land that understood it better than Xerox?
"Yes, but it seems to me the corporation has got it backwards," Pake replied. "If you're going into the computer business, you should have got the researchers first to help you identify the right corporation to buy."
"Unfortunately," Goldman said, "it's too late for that."
Pake ended the meeting insisting how deeply he enjoyed the life of a college professor in St. Louis, but he was beginning to crack. Before Jack Goldman reboarded his plane he extracted Pake's agreement to visit Rochester and Stamford to meet Peter McColough and the chairman, Joe Wilson. If anyone could charm his wavering quarry into joining the company, they could.
'When I went back I asked Peter McColough why he wanted to start a new research center," Pake recalled later. "I said, 'You've got a research center here that has developed xerography. To build a new one you'll have to have a new research library and new research machine shop and all the other things. Lot of fixed costs you have to duplicate. Wouldn't it be easier to expand the laboratory in Rochester?'
"McColough turned to me—and I remember this conversation very well, it's indelible in my memory. He said, 'George, I think these people here in Rochester have had a heady success with xerography. But I'm not sure they're adaptable enough to take on new and different technologies. If we're going to bring new technologies into Xerox it would be better to do it in a whole new setting.'"
McColough's reply might have come directly from the Jack Goldman playbook. Despite himself, Pake was utterly taken with McColough and Wilson and deeply flattered by their apparent willingness to place him in charge of a multimillion-dollar corporate asset after only one interview, especially since he told them he would expect to be held to a liberal standard of success.
"I said if you hire me you will get nothing of business value in five years," he recalled. "But if you don't have something of value in ten years, then you'll know you've hired the wrong guy."
Pake understood that managing a research center devoted to finding a common ground between his first love, physics, and the intriguing new field of digital computing was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. In comparison, the charm of closing out one's teaching career in the Midwest seemed meager indeed. Just after New Year's Day 1970, he telephoned Jack Goldman to accept the job.
The first order of business was to find a site.
Goldman's plan to locate the lab in New Haven had collapsed even before Pake came aboard. Yale, as it turned out, was afflicted by a strain of that old malady known as the town-gown
Pake hesitated, wondering about Xerox's resolve over the long haul. "I had a lot of friends at other industrial research establishments and the usual thing they were worried about was the feast-or-famine effect," he said later. "You know, in the good business years the company invests in research, but in the bad years they want to pull out." That was a recipe for wasting millions of dollars. "Research is a steady-state thing. You can't just turn it on and off."
Goldman tried his best to be reassuring. He reminded Pake that in 1944 the Haloid Company had offered Chester Carlson research support when no other corporation would. Carlson had scarcely anything to demonstrate the potential of his invention other than a tiny scrap of paper on which he had duplicated his own scrawled "10-22-38 Asto ria"—the date and place of his first successful xerographic copy. The company that was now Xerox had invested in that improbable invention for fifteen years before the first Model 914 came off the production line in 1959 and made its fortune. Long-range research? Was there an enter prise anywhere in the land that understood it better than Xerox?
"Yes, but it seems to me the corporation has got it backwards," Pake replied. "If you're going into the computer business, you should have got the researchers first to help you identify the right corporation to buy."
"Unfortunately," Goldman said, "it's too late for that."
Pake ended the meeting insisting how deeply he enjoyed the life of a college professor in St. Louis, but he was beginning to crack. Before Jack Goldman reboarded his plane he extracted Pake's agreement to visit Rochester and Stamford to meet Peter McColough and the chairman, Joe Wilson. If anyone could charm his wavering quarry into joining the company, they could.
'When I went back I asked Peter McColough why he wanted to start a new research center," Pake recalled later. "I said, 'You've got a research center here that has developed xerography. To build a new one you'll have to have a new research library and new research machine shop and all the other things. Lot of fixed costs you have to duplicate. Wouldn't it be easier to expand the laboratory in Rochester?'
"McColough turned to me—and I remember this conversation very well, it's indelible in my memory. He said, 'George, I think these people here in Rochester have had a heady success with xerography. But I'm not sure they're adaptable enough to take on new and different technologies. If we're going to bring new technologies into Xerox it would be better to do it in a whole new setting.'"
McColough's reply might have come directly from the Jack Goldman playbook. Despite himself, Pake was utterly taken with McColough and Wilson and deeply flattered by their apparent willingness to place him in charge of a multimillion-dollar corporate asset after only one interview, especially since he told them he would expect to be held to a liberal standard of success.
"I said if you hire me you will get nothing of business value in five years," he recalled. "But if you don't have something of value in ten years, then you'll know you've hired the wrong guy."
Pake understood that managing a research center devoted to finding a common ground between his first love, physics, and the intriguing new field of digital computing was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. In comparison, the charm of closing out one's teaching career in the Midwest seemed meager indeed. Just after New Year's Day 1970, he telephoned Jack Goldman to accept the job.
The first order of business was to find a site.
Goldman's plan to locate the lab in New Haven had collapsed even before Pake came aboard. Yale, as it turned out, was afflicted by a strain of that old malady known as the town-gown
Similar Books
