Author Archives: hightechhistory

The Synclavier: Where computer science embraced musical innovation

Left to right: Dartmouth’s Sydney A. Alonso, Jon Appleton and Cameron Jones listen to Appleton playing a Synclavier I, ca. 1977. Courtesy, Dartmouth Engineer, Thayer School of Engineering, Dartmouth College.

Synclavier I: Invention, and the creation of an industry

The Synclavier, an early digital synthesizer, sampling system and music workstation, was developed by the New England Digital Corporation (NED) of Norwich,Vermont; the prototypical model having been invented at Hanover, New Hampshire’s Dartmouth College in 1975. Dartmouth Professor of Music Jon Appleton, Digital Electronics expert Sydney A. Alonso and Engineering software programmer Cameron Jones collaborated in its invention.

The Synclavier I. Wikipedia.

According to a 2005 story in the Dartmouth Engineer, the prime motivation for the Synclavier’s development was that “The Moog synthesizer, the prime electronic instrument of the 1970s, linked a piano keyboard to an analog computer — but it had no memory. Wanting something better, Dartmouth music professor and composer Jon Appleton turned to [Dartmouth’s] Thayer School [of Engineering].”

The resulting Synclavier was the world’s first digital synthesizer, and pioneered digital sampling, hard-disk recording, and professional sound editing. “It did so many things, and the software was so beautifully integrated,”Appleton later remarked.

Early history

In 1972, Jones and Alonso met at Dartmouth, where they were both working on programming the college’s large, time-sharing computer. Together, they developed software for the computer that allowed it to produce electronic music and, under Appleton’s tutelage, aid with students’ ear training.

Within the next three years, in addition to graduating from Dartmouth, the two men were able to create a 16-bit processor card and then adapted the computer’s compiler for the new processor. This new “miniprocessor” – the ABLE – was the first product for Jones and Alonso’s new company, New England Digital. It was designed to help users avoid having to book time on large, mainframe computers (most academic computer labs in this period operated on a ponderous “time sharing” basis).

Out of the research, the men crafted their new instrument, which they called the Synclavier (pronounced, in three syllables, Sink – la – veer). It was intended as a commercial outgrowth of their “Dartmouth Digital Synthesizer,” which included the ABLE processor. In 1979, they raised some venture capital and brought in another partner to oversee the marketing of their new “Synclavier II.”

Synclavier II

The Synclavier II was revolutionary because it introduced both a terminal display and keyboard and allowed for both software additions and revisions that could even be retrofitted on earlier versions of the device. Encouraged by the success of these developments, in 1982-3, the company added significant “sampled” sound recording and playback capabilities directly from the unit’s hard drive. And with the addition of the graphics terminal, it was possible to analyze and edit sounds in a visual, as well as aural context. This figuratively opened up the flood gates to virtually unlimited possibilities of sound production and “post-production” editing, which made the system very attractive to both the music and film industries.

Dartmouth Professor of Music Jon Appleton demonstrating the Synclavier II (1984)

Decline, fall & resurrection

All of this innovation cost money – a lot of it. Units began at $75,000 and to outfit a proper studio, the price could reach $500,000 or even beyond. One account, from a website called “Yaking Cat Music Studios History,” added a little bit of cheeky perspective on NED’s pricing strategy: “The prices on Synclaviers were based on two primary factors. Those who owned the machine or needed parts generally had money to ‘burn,’ so to speak. NED took advantage of this. Second, there were about 11 guys at the top of the company pulling down six-figure incomes. Sting was paid to perform for the NED employees and their spouses at a big gala at the Roxy in N.Y. There were NED offices across the globe with marble desks. Spend, spend, spend. And make your customers pick up the tab.”

Mike Thorne, producer of such notable bands as Siouxie and the Banshees, Soft Cell and the Bronski Beat, was a pioneer in the use of the Synclavier for so-called "New Wave" music. Courtesy, vblurpage.com

Throughout the 1980s, the Synclavier was the musical device of choice for musicians such as Genesis’ Tony Banks, Sting, Frank Zappa, Stevie Wonder, Stanley Jordan, and numerous others. The machine’s ability to augment musicians’ guitar work though a specially-designed interface was unparalleled; but as that decade passed into the ‘90s, NED, due largely to the price of equipment upgrades, started to lose market share and opted to “repackage” itself in less expensive fashion. They began to move from their original mission of support for musical instruments toward post-production and editing software.

A silver lining to this lateral movement was that there was really no manufacturer who could offer a machine that was so perfectly suited to motion picture and television production. The software upgrades were spell-binding for those who could afford them, and the sound was unparalleled. It is safe to say that this is what rescued the company over its history; but regardless, NED passed into history itself in 1992, only to be resurrected, like the phoenix from the ashes, on several occasions in various permutations. It’s interesting to know that there are still over 100 units of the Synclavier and Synclavier II still in use today in various capacities, and part of the reason for that is their durability.

One example of the Synclavier’s reliable construction involves the B-52 military airplane. NED went out of its way to choose uncompromising materials for the manufacturing process. And one of those choices involved the famous red buttons the B-52 used on its control panels. It’s been suggested that the company’s decision to select superior components was designed to help prop up the instrument’s price tag; but experience has also revealed it was essential to construct units that could hold up to the punishment of musicians – spilled drinks, cigarette ashes and pounding fists included.

-Christopher Hartman

 

A brief, early history of Xerox PARC and the development of the personal computer

Xerox PARC logo, ca. 1971. Courtesy, Wikipedia.

PARC, or Palo Alto Research Center, Inc., was founded in 1971 as a research arm of the Xerox Corporation. Its critical contributions to computer science included development of the laser printer, the Ethernet, a variation of ARPANET (a predecessor of the Internet); various email delivery systems; the nucleus of the modern personal computer – featuring a monitor with graphical user interface, or GUI (pronounced “gooey”), and the first modern version of Stanford Research Institute’s Douglas Engelbart’s invention: the computer “mouse.” PARC sits in a low-lying, non-descript cement building nudging the Stanford University campus off Coyote Hill Road on the outskirts of Palo Alto, California.

Xerox PARC Computer Science Laboratory class, ca. 1971. Bob Taylor, second from right, would hold classes with laboratory students in "beanbag" chairs. Courtesy, Computer History Museum.

Paul Allen, co-founder of Microsoft, recalled in his recently published memoir Idea Man how during of September of 1980, he interviewed a PARC programmer named Charles Simonyi for a job, and how intrigued he was about the goings on behind the gates of Oz, or “ivory tower,” as Allen put it. Allen saw that PARC was a highly innovative and forward-thinking company that anticipated trends in computer technology a “decade” before everyone else in computer high tech.

Charles Simonyi, at Xerox PARC, ca. 1980 in front of one of their Alto computers. He left PARC that same year for Microsoft. Courtesy, Folklore.org.

Simonyi ultimately accepted a position with Microsoft, and subsequently invited Allen to Palo Alto to see a demonstration of PARC’s new “Alto” computer. Allen remembers being “blown away” by the complex word processing software graphics that displayed multiple-sized fonts on a screen that would print in an identical manner. The graphics were referred to as “WYSIWYG,” or “What you see is what you get.” One of the most devastating observations Allen mentioned was a completely intuitive interface, where one could actually “cut and paste” entire blocks of text via the computer’s mouse. In this particular mouse, motion was sensed by two wheels perpendicular to each other. Eventually, this was replaced by a “ball” mouse.

By the beginning of 1978, Altos were being tested in four locations: the White House, the U.S. House of Representatives, the Atlantic Richfield Company, and the offices of Xerox’s copier sales division. Xerox also donated a total of fifty Altos to outstanding universities—Stanford, Carnegie Mellon, MIT, and Universityof Rochester, including IFS file servers (the file server was a common application for the machine) and Dover laser printers. Xerox management rejected creating a commercially obtainable version of the Alto for many years.

A brief thumbnail of a few applications available for the Alto:

  • Bravo and Gypsy—the first WYSIWYG word processors;
  • Laureland its successor Hardy—Network E-mail clients;
  • Markup and Draw—Painting and graphics manipulation (bitmap editors);
  • Neptune—File manager;
  • FTP and chat utilities;
  • Games—Chess, Pinball, Othello and a Alto Trek game by Gene Ball;
  • Sil—vector graphics editor, used mainly for logic circuits, printed circuit.

Simonyi, when later asked about his decision to join Microsoft, explained that Xerox was simply “an old company going downhill,” and that it wasn’t just that they didn’t have all the right answers to complex technology questions. “That’s normal,” he said. But what bothered him the most was that they didn’t know the right questions, either.

The Xerox Alto was ultimately considered a failure because they were only able to sell 25,000 of them. Its successor, the Xerox Star, released in 1981 at a price tag of $16,000, might have been termed a “personal” computer, but definitely not a “popular” one. Malcolm Gladwell, in a recent New Yorker magazine article, said that Xerox PARC had developed the Alto for “professionals,” but that Apple computer’s Steve Jobs, who basically purchased an opportunity to tour PARC in 1979, wanted his personal computer to have a far more broadly-based appeal. Speaking of which, Jobs’ tour of PARC has entered high tech lore as a seminal moment in the development of the modern personal computer. Detractors have referred to it as letting the fox in the chicken coop, while Allen might be inclined to see it as letting a kid in the candy store. Jobs, for his part, asked if PARC would simply “open its kimono.”

Steve Jobs with the Apple II computer, ca. 1979 - the same year he gained entrance to Xerox PARC. Courtesy, Gizmodo.

The then 24 year-old Jobs got his chance to visit after negotiating for Xerox PARC to purchase 100,000 pre-IPO shares of Apple Computer for $1 million. He brought a team of executives and engineers along with him and was shown a number of PARC’s innovations, including the aforementioned WYSIWYG—the mouse-driven graphical user interface provided by the Alto. Jobs promptly integrated this into two of his key computer projects—first the Apple Lisa and then the Macintosh. Then, in similar fashion to the way Allen snapped up Simonyi at Microsoft, Jobs actively cherry-picked the talent at PARC for Apple.

An interesting epilogue, tying together both this sequence of events and the Simonyi defection, is Apple’s lawsuit against Microsoft (whose “Windows” technology derived heavily from the WYSIWYG interface) for illegally appropriating the “look and feel” of the Macintosh GUI. Not to be outdone, Xerox decided to sue Apple on the same grounds; but ultimately, all of the lawsuits were dismissed for lack of legal merit. Chiefly, none of the parties involved could claim ownership of any of the technologies they employed.

-Christopher Hartman

High Tech History review: Idea Man, by Paul Allen

Courtesy, Penguin Books

Idea Man is the latest in a growing group of “co-founder” memoirs (Apple Computer co-founder Steve Wozniak’s iWoz and Digital Equipment Corp. co-founder Harlan Anderson’s Learn, Earn and Return being two others) that have attempted to set the historical record straight by emphasizing contributions they’ve made and their relationship with partners who would wind up overshadowing them on the public stage. Paul Allen, the co-founder of Microsoft Corporation, arguably the most successful computer firm in history, has added significantly to this genre with Idea Man. With this autobiography drawn largely from his own journal entries, Allen has written a matter-of-fact, detailed account of his relationship with co-founder Bill Gates: how the two of them met at the Lakeside boarding school in Washington State, shared a love for “hacking” or writing code, and eventually set the stage for their company by securing a contract to write a BASIC computer software program for the fledgling MITS Altair 8800 computer, which Allen first read about in a computer publication while working for Honeywell Corporation outside of Boston. At the time, the younger Gates was enrolled at Harvard, but the itch to start a company was never far removed from either man, and after Allen showed Gates the article he read, it was apparent the Albuquerque-based MITS Corp. presented intriguing opportunities for software development - which Gates and Allen pursued with alacrity.

Paul Allen is a man of many talents, but has also accepted and liberally related both his flaws and regrets throughout the book. A core theme was a percolation of the animus he eventually felt for Gates, who Allen describes in this book variously as relentlessly brilliant, imperious, stubborn, conniving, insecure, insensitive, reckless (with an affinity for collecting speeding tickets) and stingy (yet capable of great generosity on occasion). A main point of contention between them was the original partnership agreement for Microsoft, and how it was later modified. Gates, the son of a successful attorney, argued effectively for a 60% – 40% stake, though after their contract with IBM, Gates asked that it be again modified to 64% – 36%. Though Allen was a bit resentful with these developments, he largely took them in stride.

Bill Gates and Paul Allen, ca. 1980. Courtesy, Miller-Nagan Wealth Management Weblog

However, the final straw came with a meeting between Gates and eventual CEO Steve Ballmer (who was friends with Gates at Harvard) discussing Allen’s perceived disillusionment and lack of productivity with the company. They then proceeded to hatch a scheme to diminish further Allen’s ownership stake in the company. Allen, who had been listening outside the whole time, angrily burst into the room and their relationship was never the same.

Allen left the company before it went public in 1986, after he had been diagnosed with a treatable form of Hodgkin’s Disease, and when Microsoft finally had its initial public offering (IPO), he became a billionaire overnight. He traveled a bit, but quickly became restless. Being a big basketball fan and a lover of sports generally from before his days at “Wazzu” (Washington State University), he made an overture to the ownership of the NBA’s Portland Trail Blazers, and at 35 years of age became the youngest team owner in all of professional sports. Later, he would become the owner of the Seattle Seahawks NFL team and part owner of the Seattle Sounders professional soccer team.

In addition to sports, Allen enjoyed listening to and playing rock music and was mezmerized by the guitar artistry of Seattle native Jimi Hendrix. This led him to build the Experience Music Project in Seattle (named after Hendrix’s band, the Jimi Hendrix Experience), a repository for important musical artifacts, archive and science fiction museum. Allen’s sister Jody, herself an experienced and capable fundraiser, spearheaded its financing efforts and construction, and Frank Gehry was later secured as its architect. Allen not only idolized Hendrix, he is himself a skilled guitarist and eventually realized a goal other men can only fantasize about: to meet and perform with the world’s most noteworthy rock musicians. Through various channels, he befriended musicians such as U2’s Bono, The Band’s Robbie Robertson, Peter Gabriel, Dave Stewart, Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, and many other members of rock ‘n roll royalty. Additionally, Allen later became involved with motion pictures, creating Vulcan Productions, where, among other works, he co-produced Martin Scorsese’s critically acclaimed PBS series “The Blues.”

But it wasn’t all fun and games for Allen, who was fascinated by the workings of the brain, and the seemingly endless possibilities for artificial intelligence. But the major impetus for his creation of the Allen Institute for Brain Science was personal: in 2003 his mother was diagnosed with dementia, which he described in a Jan. 21, 2003 journal entry: “My mother is struggling right now with an Alzheimer’s-like condition. I’m sick at heart about this.” He launched his Institute with a $100 million donation and it was opened in September of that year.

Kenneth S. Allen (left) and his son, Paul Allen (right). Courtesy, University of Washington

Allen describes being remorseful at not having been able to properly say goodbye to his father, who died prematurely (age 60) of complications from a blood clot in his leg. To commemorate him, Allen established an endowment in his dad’s name at the University of Washington, where his father was an associate director of libraries. The Kenneth S. Allen Library, Allen asserts, now holds over a million volumes.

Allen also made numerous other investments in startup companies, as well as cable TV, where he admitted to significant failure. But overall, Idea Man is a wonderful read; not only a firsthand, detailed portrait of Allen’s life, but an important and heretofore untold business history as well. Allen’s role in Microsoft was instrumental in obtaining the company’s lucrative relationship with IBM in 1981 and in developing software that was not only IBM, but Apple compatible. It’s safe to say that most of Microsoft’s greatest coups during the late ’70s and early ’80s would not have occurred without Allen’s presence.

From his average childhood in a typical American family of Seattle, via Anadarko, Oklahoma, to the pinacle of high tech achievement, Allen’s contributions to the computer industry remain monumentally significant, and he describes his career with honesty, conviction and not a small amount of humor. Idea Man is a winner.

Idea Man, by Paul Allen, is published by Penguin Group, U.S.A. $27.95.

Malcolm Gladwell on Xerox PARC, Apple, and the truth about innovation

Malcolm Gladwell writes in the May 16 issue of The New Yorker magazine about how the very inexact science of innovation occurs. From the late 1960s when Cal Berkeley-trained engineer Douglas Englebart first developed the computer “mouse,” to how colleagues of his at Xerox PARC passed on their knowledge to Apple Inc.’s Steve Jobs (in exchange for some very valuable Apple stock) in the late 1970s, it’s a fascinating study of the evolution of technology and how it is developed over time. The link above is to an abstract of the more detailed article, which is available both in hard copy and via its iPad application. The issue is definitely worth picking up.

-Chris Hartman

The Soul of a New Machine: The Product

The Souls of a New Machine (Wired December 2000)

Today in 1980, Data General (DG) introduced the Eclipse MV/8000 at the Roosevelt Hotel in New York City. Known internally as Project Eagle, the 2-year development of the 32-bit “super-minicomputer,” the engineers working on it, and the parallel (and eventually, failed) development of a competing DG product, became the subject of Tracy Kidder’s Pulitzer-prize winning The Soul of a New Machine, published in 1981.   Continue reading

A history of computer chess – from the “Mechanical Turk” to “Deep Blue”

 
Baron Wolfgang von Kempelen’s “Mechanical Turk,” an elaborate hoax. Courtesy, GearLog.com

An “elaborate hoax”

In 1769 the Hungarian-born engineer Baron Wolfgang von Kempelen (1734-1804) built a chess playing machine for the amusement of the Austrian Queen Maria Theresa. It was a purely mechanical device – a chess-playing automaton later revealed to be a hoax. Its outstanding aptitude, it was later revealed, originated from a man hidden inside the device. Interestingly, it was described in an essay by Edgar Allan Poe, “Maelzel’s Chess-Player.”

In March of 1949, Claude Shannon (1916-2001), a research worker at Bell Telephone Laboratories in New Jersey described how to program a computer to play chess based on position scoring and move selection.  He proposed basic strategies for restricting the number of possibilities to be considered in a game of chess. In 1950, Shannon devised a chess playing program that appeared in the paper “Programming a computer for playing chess” published in Philosophical Magazine, March 1950. This was the first article on computer chess.

In 1950, Alan Turing (1912-1954) wrote the first computer chess program.  The same year he proposed the Turing Test that in time, a computer could be programmed (such as playing chess) to acquire abilities rivaling human intelligence.  If a human did not see the other human or computer during an imitation game such as chess, he/she would not know the difference between the human and the computer.

In 1951, Turing tried to implement his “Turbochamp” program on the Ferranti Mark I computer at Manchester University.  He never completed the task.  However, his colleague, Dr. Dietrich Prinz (born 1903), wrote a chess playing computer program for the Ferranti computer that solved simple mates-in-two moves.  The first program ran in November, 1951.  The program would examine every possible move until a solution was found.  It took about fifteen minutes to solve a mate in two moves.

In 1946 the Hungarian/American mathematician John von Neumann was given the task of designing a powerful calculation machine to speed up the task. In 1950 a giant machine called MANIAC I was delivered. It was filled with thousands of vacuum tubes and switches and could execute 10,000 instructions per second. It was also programmable.

By 1956, Univac’s MANIAC I computer was capable of playing chess using a 6″x6″ chessboard.  This was the first documented account of a running chess program. It used a chess set without bishops.  It took twelve minutes to search four moves deep.  Adding the two bishops would have taken three hours to search four moves deep. MANIAC I was programmed by Stan Ulam who designed the Hydrogen bomb with Edward Teller.

In 1957, Alex Bernstein, an IBM employee, created the first really complete chess program. With three colleagues, Bernstein created a chess program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.  It ran on an IBM 704, one of the last vacuum tube computers.  It took about eight minutes to make a move. International Master Edward Lasker played the program, easily defeating it, but he commented that it played a ‘passable amateur game.’

In 1958, Allen Newell (1927-1992), Herbert Simon and Cliff Shaw developed the chess program CP-1 at Carnegie-Mellon.  It was the first chess program to be written in a high-level language and took about an hour to make a move.  Their NSS (Newell, Simon, Shaw) program combined algorithms that searched for good moves with heuristics (rules of thumb for making a move) that captured well-known chess strategies.  The NSS chess program ran on a JOHNNIAC computer.

Artificial intelligence in computer chess

In 1962, the first chess program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology was written.  It was the first chess program that played chess credibly.  It was chiefly written by Alan Kotok (1942-2006), assisted by John McCarthy (father of artificial intelligence) of MIT. The program ran on an IBM 7090, and was able to beat chess beginners. Kotok went on to become one of DEC’s leading computer designers (chief architect of the PDP-10), and created the first video game (Spacewar!) and the gaming joystick.

In 1965, McCarthy, who had been at Stanford University since 1962, visited the Soviet Union.  There, a group at the Moscow Institute for Theoretical and Experimental Physics (ITEP), led by Alexander Kronrod, challenged his chess program to a match with their own, later called KAISSA.  A match was held over nine months in 1966-67.  The Kotok-McCarthy program lost the match 3-1.  The Soviet chess program ran on an M-20 computer. 

MacHack (Mac Hack or Mac Hac) was a computer chess program written by Richard Greenblatt, an MIT expert in artificial intelligence, with Donald Eastlake, in the 1960s. MacHack VI was the first chess program to play in human tournaments.  It was also the first to be granted a chess rating, and the first to draw and win against a person in tournament play. Its name came from Project MAC (Multilevel Access Computer or Machine-Aided Cognition), which was a research project located at MIT.  The number VI refers to the DEC PDP-6 for which it was written.  DEC built the PDP-6 and gave the first prototype to Project MAC. 

Greenblatt added fifty heuristics to an older chess program written by Kotok.  MacHack was written in MIDAS macro assembly language on the PDP-6 computer that DEC donated to MIT.  Greenblatt wrote the chess program using only 16K of memory for the PDP-6 computer.  It evaluated about ten positions per second. Greenblatt was offered a B.S. degree from MIT if he would write a thesis about his chess program.  He never did write his thesis. Greenblatt later founded Lisp Machine, Inc., and is considered one of the founders of the hacker community.

On January 21-23, 1967, MacHack VI played in the Massachusetts Amateur Championship in Boston.  It was the first time an electronic computer played chess against human beings under regular tournament conditions.  The computer played all five rounds and ended up with a score of 0.5-4.5, one draw.  By the end of the year, it had played in four chess tournaments. It won 3 games, lost 12, and drew 3.  In 1967 MacHack VI was made an honorary member of the US Chess Federation.  The MacHack program was the first widely distributed chess program, running on many of the PDP machines.  It was also the first to have an opening chess book programmed with it.

Later, MacHack was available on all PDP-10 computers (400,000 instructions per second).  A version was made available on many time-sharing computer services using DEC PDP series computers.  This led to a rapid proliferation of chess programs.  Within three years of MacHack VI’s debut, at least eight new programs appeared.  This led to the first tournament for computer programs in 1970.  MacHack remained active in chess competitions through 1972.

Sargon Computer Chess

The original SARGON was written by Dan and Kathleen ‘Kathe’ Spracklen in a Z80-based computer called Wavemate Jupiter III using assembly language through TDL Macro Assembler.

The name “Sargon” was taken from either of the historical kings Sargon of Akkad (the first king to use his empire to try to conquer the known world) or Sargon of Assyria. (Ironically, neither ruler would have been able to play chess since it was not invented until long after their reigns.) One other possibility is that it was taken from a character in the original Star Trek series. The name was originally written entirely in capitals because early computer operating systems such as CP/M did not support lower-case file names.

SARGON was introduced at the 1978 West Coast Computer Faire, where it won the first computer chess tournament held strictly for microcomputers. This success encouraged the authors to seek financial income by selling the program directly to customers. Since magnetic media were not widely available at the time, the authors placed an advert in Byte Magazine and mailed photocopied listings that would work in any Z80-based microcomputer. Later they were contacted by Hayden Books and a book was published.

In 1985, three doctoral students created the chess-playing program Chiptest. This would develop into Deep Thought, a program that shared first place with Grandmaster Tony Miles in the 1988 U.S. Open championship and defeated the brilliant sixteen year-old Grandmaster Judit Polgar in 1993 in a thirty-minute game.

Deep Blue

In May of 1997, IBM’s Deep Blue, a chess program running on a high-powered computer, defeated world champion Gary Kasparov in a six-game series. The computer was designed to consider several billion possibilities at once. But it also uses a series of complicated formulae that take into consideration the state of the game. These formulae, among other factors, weigh the relative material value of pieces (e.g. queens are more useful than knights) and position (e.g. can you attack more squares than your opponent?), safety of the king and the pace of the game.

Deep Blue also kept a record of several past matches to see how it could make best use of what was available. Kasparov found this out – the hard way. On the other hand, when he played some unorthodox moves, he had the computer totally flustered.

References:

“Mastering the Game: A History of Computer Chess” Computer History Museum, current exhibition.

“MacAttack” Chess.com, May 13, 2008.

“IBM Deep Blue vs. Gary Kasparov,” Quantum Gambits, Ocbober 8, 2009.

Friedel, Frederick: “A Short History of Computer Chess.” Chessbase. N.d.

Surendran, Dinoj. “A Brief History of Computer Chess.” Zimaths, Vol. 2, Issue 1, October, 1996.

IBM Deep Blue website.

Sidney Harman, Audio Pioneer and Magazine Publisher, Dies at 92

Sidney Harman, physicist and electronics pioneer (ca. 1955)

Sidney Harman, who died yesterday, was born in Montreal in 1918, and grew up in New York City. According to Harman/Kardon’s website, “At New York’s City College, he majored in physics. In 1939, after he completed school, he found a job in the engineering department of the David Bogen Company, a firm that made public-address sound systems. He and his boss, chief engineer Bernard Kardon, quickly became friends.” In 1953, the two men partnered to found Harman/Kardon.

An electronics juggernaut
 

The first true high fidelity receiver invented by Harman/Kardon: the Festival D1000 (1954)

Harman and Kardon’s collaboration helped to create a new industry: high-fidelity audio. By 1954, the company simplified access to high-fidelity sound for the non-technical consumer with the introduction of the world’s first true hi-fi receiver, the Festival D1000. This product incorporated a tuner, control unit and power amplifier in a single chassis. Four years later, Harman Kardon presented the world’s first stereo receiver.

In addition to the Festival receiver, the also pioneered the TA230 stereo receiver (1958); the first ultrawide-bandwidth amplifier, the Citation II (1959); the first cassette deck with Dolby* B noise reduction, the CAD5 (1970); and the first high-current-capability amplifier, the Citation XX (1980).

Harman bought out Kardon, who retired in 1956 and proceeded to greatly expand the company. By the mid-1970s Harman-Kardon was a leader in the U.S. stereo industry. The company profited by pioneering the concept of separate components. Consumers would be able to mix and match them to create their own audio system. And the convenient part for the company was that Harman/Kardon made a wide array of those components.

As the 1960s and then the ‘70s progressed, Harman attributed the success of Harman Kardon and his other companies to a new style of management. He encouraged his managers “to respect people who do the work, to see them as a great untapped resource.” He believed strongly that the workers could contribute smart, practical ideas about ways to improve the manufacturing process.
 
A passion for politics and publishing
 

In 1976, Sidney Harman accepted an appointment in the Carter administration as undersecretary of the Department of Commerce. Upon entering government, he sold his company to conglomerate Beatrice Foods to avoid appearance of a conflict of interest. Beatrice then proceeded to sell nearly half of all the company’s holdings.

After Harman left the Commerce Dept. in 1978, he created Harman International Industries and went on a buying spree for new businesses, including several which Beatrice had previously sold off. Consequently, the company’s assets grew from approximately $80 million in 1981 to more than $500 million in 1989. By 1990, Harman International was selling consumer audio gear under such brands as JBL, Harman Kardon, Infinity and Epicure loudspeakers, as well as professional audio systems with such brands as JBL Professional, UREI, Soundcraft, etc.

Harman collected magazines from an early age and devoured them as quickly as he acquired them. A lifelong Democrat, Harman opposed the Vietnam War and for a year taught young black students in Prince Edward County, Virginia after the public schools were closed in a callous attempt to avoid desegregation.  In 1980, Harman married 9-term California congresswoman Jane Harman.

In 2010, Harman made a splash in the publishing and political worlds by purchasing financially troubled Newsweek magazine for $1 plus $47 million in liabilities. His leadership resulted in the magazine’s joining forces with Tina Brown’s online publication The Daily Beast.

Having aquired a personal fortune over his lifetime of some $500 million,

Sidney Harman, tennis star Andre Agassi and Rep. Jane Harman in Washington, D.C. at the American Academy of Achievement International Summit, June, 2007.

Harman gave millions to education, the performing and fine arts and other philanthropies. Harman has been often referred to as a “Renaissance Man” with a penchant for quoting long passages of Shakespeare from memory, and who lectured at the University of Southern California in disciplines as varied as architecture, medicine and law.

Becoming MIT: Moments of Decision – Part 4

“On April 17, 1974, a group of influential biologists met in the office of David Baltimore, a young faculty member who had recently moved into MIT’s new Center for Cancer Research … At MIT, the growth of the life sciences and technology eventually changed the Institute in ways that few of those who gathered that day in Baltimore’s office could possibly have foreseen.”  – from Becoming MIT  Moments of Decision.

The possibilities for the use of recombinant DNA (rDNA) were virtually limitless in the treatment of human diseases. However, everyone present in Baltimore’s office on that day in 1974 knew that many of the experiments they sought to carry out should not be undertaken until all relevant safety issues were considered.

From left: MIT biologist and Nobel Laureate Salvador Luria, Dr. Nancy Hopkins and Dr. David Baltimore at MIT's Center for Cancer Research, January, 1974. Courtesy, MIT Museum

As a result of an open letter co-authored by Baltimore, Stanford biologist Paul Berg and Harvard Medical School’s Richard Roblin, and published in three scientific journals, there was a broad-based moratorium on such experiments until the scientists could make recommendations to the National Institute of Health (NIH). The following February, a meeting took place at Pacific Grove, California’s Asilomar Conference Center to evaluate the situation before the submitting recommendations to NIH.

“Refrain from using the alphabet”

On Wed., June 23, 1976, the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare announced the final NIH guidelines for conduct of rDNA experiments. And that evening, the local Cambridge, MA City Hall, with Mayor Alfred Vellucci presiding, convened its own special hearing into rDNA research and its safety implications for Harvard and MIT’s host city.  

Vellucci was concerned that through experiments at this “moderate risk” facility at Harvard, the scientists might concoct “… a disease that cannot be cured – even a monster.” The Major opened the hearing with words that were a bit less apocalyptic, but no less direct:

Then, for the person who is speaking, kindly give your name, your address, your title, and the organization that you represent. Refrain from using the alphabet. Most of us in this room, including myself, are lay people. We don’t understand your alphabet, so you will spell it out for us so we know exactly what you are talking about, because we are here to listen.”

The scientists who spoke on behalf of the facility must have had their jaws drop a few minutes later when a resolution was read out that would propose a two-year ban on all rDNA experimentation in Cambridge. The resolution did not pass, the scientists were thrown back on their heels to propose measures that were considered safe. NIH’s oversight was invoked, and after this first meeting ended inconclusively, others were planned for later in the summer that resulted in the creation of the Cambridge Experimentation Review Board, or CERB. Though Mayor Vellucci publicly declared victory over the “big scientists” at Harvard, David Baltimore and MIT were well-positioned to make significant strides in biomedical research.

The making of “Gene Town” 

In 1975, David Baltimore shared a Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with two other scientists, and in 1977, with the passage of the Cambridge ordinance, MIT found itself ideally placed to make rapid progress with the new rDNA research.

Biomedical entrepreneur and philanthropist Jack Whitehead

In 1979, Baltimore started the negotiations what would eventually result in the Whitehead Institute at MIT. Jack Whitehead was a biomedical entrepreneur and philanthropist, and most of the negotiations involved where the new Institute should be built and faculty concerns over its model – it was to be independent but also affiliated with MIT.

The Whitehead Institute was built in 1982 and quickly proved to be a big success. It was at the very forefront of MIT’s efforts in genomics, and with the advent of the 1990s, the Whitehead Institute/MIT Center for Human Genomics served a pivotal role in the Human Genome Project. In 2004, this union became the Broad Institute of MIT and Harvard.

Putting gender on the table

“MIT Women Win a Fight against Bias. In a Rare Move, School Admits Discrimination.”Boston Globe front page headline, March 21, 1999.

MIT’s “A Study on the Status of Women Faculty in Science at MIT,” the so-called “MIT Report,” initiated by MIT Professor Nancy Hopkins, was being prepared by the Institute in advance of the Boston Globe story. It was emailed to faculty prior to the story, after which, on the following Tuesday, the New York Times came out with their own headline: “MIT Admits Discrimination against Female Professors.”

This report demonstrated that even highly successful women scientists, members of the National Academies and widely known for their research, were subject to subtle, unintentional discrimination – not blatant harassment – which according to the report, “consists of a pattern of powerful but unrecognized assumptions and attitudes that work systematically against women faculty even to the light of obvious good will.”

Dr. Nancy Hopkins of MIT

Needless to say, the issuance of the report caused a sensation. Response was worldwide, but much of it was positive: women and institutions were anxious to hear more, and asking for help to conduct similar studies. Additionally, there were words of thanks for MIT’s acknowledging a problem that many knew existed, but were not able to express easily. On April 7, 1999, Professor Hopkins and then dean Robert Birgeneau were invited to the White House, where President Bill Clinton and Mrs. Clinton congratulated MIT for identifying an important problem. Hopkins accepted sixteen invitations to speak that year, and in December of 1999, when the Chronicle of Higher Education reported in detail of how the report came about, the invitations grew exponentially. The Ford Foundation, among others, then offered MIT funding if they would assemble a syndicate of institutions to spread the word.

Though there were detractors, like a professor at the University of Alaska, who released his own report titled “MIT Tarnishes Its Reputation with Gender Junk Science.” This was picked up by the Independent Women’s Forum, a politically conservative research organization. And a Wall Street Journal editorial on December 29, 1999 called MIT’s actions “politicized exercises in ‘social science’”. Their argument was largely that the dearth of women faculty in the sciences was that they were less interested in entering science and may have different aptitudes that lead more easily into other fields more congruent with their values. This of course had no bearing to the treatment of the women faculty at MIT, who were highly committed and accomplished scientists.

Spearheaded by MIT Provost Robert Brown, deans in the other MIT schools were each asked to assemble committees to follow a similar procedure to that done by the School of Science. And in 2000, the MIT President, Charles Vest, and Provost Brown created the Council on Faculty Diversity. And in 2001, President Vest invited his peers at eight other institutions (Berkeley, Caltech, Harvard, Michigan, Penn, Princeton, Stanford and Yale) to meet at MIT for a conference, “Gender Equity in Academic Science and Engineering.”

The long-term effect of the initiatives undertaken by Professor Hopkins and President Vest and his colleagues – both within and without MIT – has been to gradually, but steadily increase the number of female faculty at MIT and its sister institutions. But it is quite possible, if not probable, that if Professor Hopkins had not resolutely undertaken this initiative and enlisted the wholehearted support of her fellow female faculty, these reforms would not have taken place. When presented with the letter Professor Hopkins had drafted and which had been signed by sixteen of the seventeen women faculty, dean Robert Birgeneau recalled the impact it had on him:

Listening to the personal stories of all 15, one at a time, was simply overwhelming. At that moment I realized that there really was a systemic problem and that it needed to be addressed immediately not just for the health and welfare of these women faculty, but also for the health of MIT as a whole.”

Conclusions: MIT at 150 and beyond

Current MIT President Susan Hockfield, in the book’s ”Epilogue,” describes two main lessons learned from the Institute’s 150 year history. First, that MIT’s founding ideals from the time of founder William Barton Rogers have served the Institute well. Rogers favored fundamental scientific principles and direct experimentation over “the minute details and manipulations of the arts.” Adherence to these principles, Hockfield writes, saved MIT from reducing itself to an industrial school. Rogers also believed in a mission of service to society, which greatly inspired MIT’s contributions to World War II efforts.

Secondly, MIT’s model, which in the 1940s put into form the concept of the federally-funded research university, created historic advances in America’s security, health, innovation and prosperity. But with us now in the second decade of the new millennium, MIT has challenges as well. New frontiers must be pursued, and as an example, in 2006, MIT devoted resources and talent to approach the vast global problem of sustainable energy. The MIT Energy Initiative was the outgrowth of this effort and embraces all the principles established founder Rogers and continued by the MIT community to this day, and presumably, far beyond.

Current MIT President Susan Hockfield

Becoming MIT: Moments of Decision was published through the MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. It is the companion publication to MIT’s yearlong sesquicentennial anniversary celebration, MIT150.

VC65: Metcalfe, McCance, Doriot, and Bush

Bob Metcalfe added today to his many accomplishments the leading of 1100 people in the singing of “Happy Birthday Venture Capital.” What a way to open the VC65 event, a joint venture of Xconomy, the NVCA, and the MIT Museum. Metcalfe argued that reports of the death of innovation have been greatly exaggerated (I’m paraphrasing) and he cited two important developments in January in support of this thesis:  1. President Obama devoted ten minutes of his State of the Union address to “encouraging American innovation.”  2. Bob Metcalfe became Professor of Innovation at the University of Texas in Austin.

Sixty-five years ago, General George Doriot founded (with Ralph Flanders and Karl Compton) American Research and Development Corporation (ARDC), the first publicly owned venture capital firm. ARDC is credited with the first major venture capital success story when its 1957 investment of $70,000 in Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) would be valued at over $355 million after the company’s initial public offering in 1968 (representing a return of over 500 times on its investment and an annualized rate of return of 101%).

Metcalfe published earlier this week an expanded version of his short talk today in which he outlined what he calls the “Doriot Ecology (Ecosystem).” Participants in this innovation model are research professors, graduating students, scaling entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, strategic partners, and early adopters.

The addition of research professors and graduating students to what we usually consider as the key players in the venture capital industry or ecosystem is important in the specific case of “technological, entrepreneurial innovation at scale,” the type of innovation that is of interest to Metcalfe the venture capitalist (and now, the research professor).

Metcalfe: “America has perhaps 100 good research universities, and it is my hypothesis that they are where President Obama should be directing all the research dollars our nation can afford. Do I propose this because research universities are well managed? No. But keeping universities competing with one another for research dollars is the best remedy for that. The real reason for doing our nation’s research at research universities is that they graduate students, who are the best vehicles for carrying new knowledge out into world markets where it can do some good.”

Sixty-six years ago, a similar advice to a sitting President was advanced, probably for the first time, by Vannevar Bush, in his “Science, the Endless Frontier.” Bush wrote that basic research was “the pacemaker of technological progress” and that “New products and new processes do not appear full-grown. They are founded on new principles and new conceptions, which in turn are painstakingly developed by research in the purest realms of science.” He recommended the creation of what would eventually become in 1950 the National Science Foundation (NSF).

So I think that a more apt label to the ecosystem Metcalfe described, an ecosystem generating new knowledge and new ways of using it, would be the “Bush Ecology,” with government funding supporting research universities.

Interestingly, the next speaker at the VC65 event described what I think should indeed be called the “Doriot Ecology,” a different model in which private funding, from venture capitalists, supports basic research, research professors, and their graduating students.

The speaker was Henry McCance, Chairman Emeritus of Greylock Partners. He is the co-founder of the Cure Alzheimer’s Fund, which has provided $13 million to 18 different institutions with the goal of ending Alzheimer’s by 2020. McCance applied the best practices he learned in the venture capital industry – proactively identify visionaries, help build successful management teams, establish the culture, dare to be great – to medical research and recommended applying this model to other social issues. He calls it “venture research.”

Research universities and research professors are no doubt important in solving big problems. The traditional way of funding them has been the Bush model with the federal government providing support and encouragement. But as McCance noted in his talk, grant-making has become risk-averse. The new, risk-taking, “dare to be great” model that McCance described is what should be called the Doriot model.

By Gil Press

Apple, WELL, Gmail

Thirty-five years ago today, Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, and Ronald Wayne signed a partnership agreement that established the company that will become Apple Computer, Inc. on January 3, 1977. (Wayne left the company eleven days later, relinquishing his ten percent share for US$2300). Steve Jobs told Stephen Segaller in Nerds 2.0.1:  Continue reading