Engineer unfolds life's mysteries

For such sentences, Petroski has earned the title, "poet laureate of technology." In fact, what becomes apparent in talking to the engineer is that he is an unlikely combination of mathematical brain power and a more irrational curiosity: You can imagine him as a young teen comprehending the chemistry of frozen particles and still sticking his tongue out to touch a flagpole during recess in the dead of winter.

For the reader of his books, that means that Petroski not only can put science in laymen's terms, but also can do so without killing its magic.

By his fourth and last year delivering papers, the headlines in the Press spoke to Petroski: "Education Plan for Space Age Unveiled by Ike: Calls for Aid to Gifted HS Students." Not surprisingly, he was among those students funneled into math and science courses as the United States sank deeper into a cold war.

Petroski notes that after Sputnik, however, early news stories hailed the satellite as a scientific achievement rather than an accomplishment of engineering.

Apparently, that's because most people, including high school teachers, failed to understand the difference between pure science and engineering.

The confusion hasn't abated much today, according to Petroski, who describes the engineer as a hybrid of an inventor and a scientist: the guy who finds practical applications for lab research.

"Scientists discover what is, engineers create what never was," he says, repeating an industry saying and pointing out that the steam engine was successfully designed by engineers before scientists could explain how it worked.

While he exposes a twinge of underdog sentimentality, Petroski seems to have little patience for the polarization that can plague modern engineering debates.

Instead, he prefers to write about more timeless topics, rendering himself a cultural historian by default.

"The Book on the Bookshelf," and "The Pencil" were both histories of sorts. And "Paperboy," too, occasionally casts a historical eye on things like the tradition of delivering papers in the US and the suburbanization of New York boroughs.

Petroski says his next book will deal with engineers' never-ending quest to perfect what they create.

What inventions are in need of improvement? "Everything," he says, but not without a wholesome reminder that "need" might be a bit too strong. "We're really doing well," he chuckles.

Still, for the sake of conversation, he suggests – completely off the top of his head – the toothbrush (perhaps glancing around his hotel room for inspiration?).

"I can reach some sides [of my mouth] better than others ... It seems there might be room for inventing something that changes configuration ...."

• E-mail farahs@csps.com

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