Wednesday, April 10, 2013

An Industrial Leave

  I wrote last week about the results of the three sabbatical leaves I took during my academic days.  An industrial leave had an even more profound impact.

  In 1968, a stranger came into my office at UC Berkeley.  He said that he and a partner were starting a company which had the possibility of a contract from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development.  He had been referred to me by one of my academic colleagues as someone with technical knowledge that might help in the contract.  That was true, and I began consulting for the new organization, which was called Teknekron.

  HUD wanted to explore technologies with which the locations of vehicles in large fleets—buses, police cars and fire engines, taxis, delivery trucks—could be monitored in order to improve the efficiency of dispatching them.  (This was well before the Global Positioning System of satellites was conceived.)  One method could be radio multilateration, i.e., measuring location by comparing the times of arrival at dispersed listening posts of a radio signal from the vehicle.  Radio-signal propagation in urban areas was encompassed in theoretical research I had been doing for more than a decade.

  I proposed that, instead of actually constructing several particular multilateration systems and evaluating their relative performances, Teknekron should focus on measuring and modeling the characteristics of urban radio propagation itself.  Once we had a good model, it could be simulated on a computer, and various multilateration systems could be compared in simulo to determine which might be most successful.  I contended that computer simulation would be much less expensive and more comprehensive than physical trials of a number of "in the metal" systems.

  That approach was adopted, and I began designing an experiment that would lead to the urban-radio model.  It soon became clear that I was needed full-time to lead the experiment, so I took an industrial leave from Cal in 1969-70.  The experiment consisted of circulating through typical types of urban and suburban areas in an instrumented truck, and measuring, at a prescribed set of locations, the distortion of radio pulses transmitted from an elevated position.  Here's a much-younger me in the truck recording some of the data:

Taking data.

And here's a sample of what appeared on the oscilloscope in front of me:

The responses of the urban radio medium to
 narrow pulses at three frequencies (logarithmic scale).
   
  (Amusing aside:  The project went under a rubric that encapsulated its purpose, "Public Urban Locator Service" or PULSE, which was emblazoned on the side of the truck.  In the Berkeley of the late 1960s, we should have known better.  The constant appearance in the streets of a truck so-labeled, bristling with antennas, stoked an inevitable Berkeley paranoia: were we part of some nefarious project that was tracking innocent people?  We attracted much attention and some protest.)

  The waveforms from thousands of oscillograms like that above were laboriously manually digitized, yielding some 100,000 punched cards of data—the standard storage technology of the day.  The data were then analyzed and transformed into a statistical model of the urban radio medium.  When experiments using the model were run in simulo and the results compared to those of equivalent physical experiments reported in the literature, we were ecstatic at the superb agreement.  We had indeed successfully captured the urban radio medium in a computer!  I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  Thus having eliminated the need to build actual multilateration systems for physical trials, we moved to the main task of the project: running simulated trials of such systems and calculating the location accuracies that could be expected with each.  The results gave us insight beyond all our expectations.  All told, it was perhaps the hardest year of work I had ever experienced, but well justified by the outcome.

  Teknekron went on to try to commercialize the most promising of the systems we had simulated, but was decades ahead of itself in terms of viable and inexpensive electronics.  Commercially practical multilateration of the type we simulated in 1970 had to await the late 1990s.  It is now a commonplace, employed by the cellphone industry to locate cellphones with excellent accuracy.  And the totally different GPS technology is of course also available; its users anywhere in the world can locate themselves with it.

  I went back to Cal much enriched professionally by my industrial leave.  The 100,000 punched cards were a trove of still-unexamined data, which led to several PhD theses under my supervision and a further-enhanced model of the urban radio medium.  That model was used in the design of the GSM cellular telephone system, now one of two worldwide standards. 

  On comparing the sabbatical leaves I described last week with my industrial leave, there is no contest.  While the sabbatical leaves might have been more relaxing, even more creative in terms of theoretical work, the practical work of the year at Teknekron was a new and immensely valuable departure for me, one that I couldn't have done at the university.  For engineers and scientists, I think that a revolving door between the university and industry—between academic research and its commercial application—is a vital cycle.  It should be used more, even during sabbatical years.

 I continued my involvement with Teknekron for another quarter century.  The ability to simultaneously live both inside and outside the University's walls was a great boon in my professional life.  But I leave that tale for another time.