Transcript
Introduction
In many ways, I have come to live what might seem to be a contradictory life, part in the future, part in the past. Most of my waking time is spent in our labs, surrounded by Dyson's engineers and scientists, exploring ideas that we hope might shape the future. Ours is a life of challenge and frustration, all of which is a fulfilling past time. But I also have an interest verging on obsession with the past, with the stories, artifacts and spaces that have shaped our world. Repairing the old and adding to the new has become as much an important part of my life as inventing for the future. Renovation might sound an odd enthusiasm for a modern designer and engineer, yet there is much to learn from the past and from those who have shaped the world before us.
It is about understanding and celebrating the progress that has been achieved, learning from it and building on it. Let me give you an example. The Whittle jet engine, which we have lovingly restored to its original specification and which we fire up from time to time in the parking lot at the Dyson headquarters, is another example of restoration of the past. Though it needed love when we took it on, the Whittle engine is not some old-world object. It's the embodiment of Frank Whittle's revolutionary concept, a way of solving the problem of how aircraft could fly at much greater height, speed and smoothness than they could possibly do in 1930.
The idea that he formulated at the age of 23 to form a new aero engine was as extraordinary as it was fragile. And who wanted to believe Whittle was right, certainly not government experts. He had to pursue his project alone. Yet in doing so, he revolutionized flight for everyone and changed the course of the second world war. While the Whittle engine is perhaps my biggest inspiration, there are great many similar designs and engineering icons scattered around our campuses, each with its own story.
There is the English Electric Lightning jet that's hanging in one of our campus cafes, the Concorde engine in one of our office spaces, the dissected Mini parked in another and a Harrier Jump Jet in the parking lot. One of these, the Mini, which I can't help coming back to, is a good example of why you should not listen to market research.
The British Motor Corporation, BMC, canceled one of the two proposed Mini production lines as a result of the feedback from market research. The corporation was told that people would refuse to buy a car with such small wheels. In the event, the BMC was never able to catch up with the demand that followed the launch of the trendsetting, Mini. There are many more examples I won't name here, yet each such artifact has its own story of against-the-odds progress and lessons on why having faith in your ideas and believing in progress is so important.
What these pieces of our history demonstrate is that it is hard for other people to understand or get excited by a new idea. This requires self-reliance and faith on the part of the inventor. I can also see that it is hard for an outsider to understand the challenge and thrill of inventing new technology, designing and manufacturing the product and then selling it to the world. Being an entrepreneur is not necessarily about making a fast buck. It's about creating new products and new opportunities, generating rewarding employment and opportunities in the process.
The entrepreneur is part of a cycle of renewal, driving progress. It is not easy. The margin between profits and loss, between success and failure is small. Just as you think you've understood the situation and how things work, it changes without warning. There are traps around every corner. As soon as Dyson became successful, people in Britain asked when I was going to sell the company, as if I were only lowering myself temporarily to the dim and grubby world of uncreative manufacturing. Once I made my first million, it was surely time for me to get away from the sweat, grime and grim routine of factory life and become a reclusive landowner, building duck houses perhaps and cleaning the moat around my house.
In any case, why would a supposedly educated person be ruling around in factories when he could be doing something "creative" and preferably from an office or a studio? Is it that they did not see a company as an enterprise that makes wonderful products, employs and supports many others? Is it because they admire brilliance and easy success over the long stamina and grind of running a business for generations?
Many wise friends advised me to sell in the early days when a few attractive offers came in. I suspect they feared that I might lose it all or they felt that I had achieved all that I needed to achieve. A family business has most of its wealth tied up in the business. So continuing to keep it as a family business is both a risk and a responsibility. But I like living on a knife's edge, competing and building the business. I am passionate about developing new technology and working with a wonderful and creative team around me. Those kind people totally missed the point. I didn't work on those 5,127 vacuum cleaner prototypes or even set up Dyson to make money. I did it because I had a burning desire to do so. I find inventing, researching, testing, designing and manufacturing both creative and satisfying.
Going against established expert thinking was a huge risk. No one could confirm that what we were doing was a good idea. Everyone, in fact, confirmed the reverse. The data were all against it. If, however, we had believed the "science" and not trusted our instincts, we should have ended up following the path of dull conformity. In following a different path, obstacles will be put in the way of pioneering manufacturers, yet the process of creativity and of solving seemingly insolvable problems is rather wonderful.
It is hard to be pioneering because you don't know whether or not you're going to succeed. You will stumble and have to pick yourself back up, believing that you will succeed. It is scary. I am scared all the time. Fear, though, can be a good thing as it pumps the adrenaline and motivates, as athletes will confirm. A life of perpetual learning, pursuing science, engineering and technology has been a magical and fulfilling adventure.
The quiet thrill of improving products through the application of technology and making them enjoyable and surprising to use. For an engineer, the creative impulse, the desire to improve things and the need to solve problems are a state of mind that cannot be switched off. It is there all the time, whether you're at work or you're at home. It is the intellectual challenge of seeing frustrations and problems and developing a product or system that solves them. Scientists and engineers combined recognize today's problems and are capable of providing new solutions. History has proved this time and time again.
That's an excerpt from the book that I'm going to talk to you about today, which is, Invention: A Life, and it was written by James Dyson. So this is an updated autobiography. If you've listened to even a few of these episodes by now, you know that I think that his original autobiography that he wrote 20 years ago, or I guess, over 20 years ago by now, is a must-have. It should be in every entrepreneur's library.