§1. Thermal expansion mismatch in dissimilar-material joints [00:04]
I want to finish up a couple of things on diffusion bonding. I mentioned that diffusion bonding allows you to join dissimilar materials, and that's true, but when we join dissimilar materials one of the first things we always have to worry about is thermal expansion. Sometimes the materials are used at elevated temperatures, and you have thermal cycling, so you get thermal fatigue from cyclical stresses. Or you form the joint at an elevated temperature and cool it down. Even if it's formed at room temperature you have residual stresses because of thermal expansion.
Does anyone have an idea of how much temperature differential it takes to create yield-level residual stresses? You've probably never thought about that question. A typical value for steel is 10⁻⁵ per degree C — inches per inch, centimeters per centimeter. That's the thermal expansion of steel. Most ceramics, and that's not unusual for nickel; aluminum's maybe 50% or 100% higher, could be double that — but it's on the order of 10⁻⁵. What's the yield strain of steel approximately? It's 0.002 strain. If you draw a stress-strain curve, the yield point is usually defined at 0.2% offset, or a strain of 0.002.
That means 200° centigrade — if it's α∆T to give you 0.002 strain, and 0.002 strain is the strain at yield, that's 200° centigrade. If you take the secant modulus, 0.003. So 200 to 300° temperature differential will cause yield-level residual stresses, approximately. Most people don't realize this. Even in soldering — except in soldering you have material that's going to creep, so you don't get a lot of residual stresses, because even at room temperature the solder creeps. But if you're doing brazing or diffusion bonding and you're up at 1,000° centigrade for your bonding temperature, this thing's going to go through yielding on its cooling for a dissimilar-metal joint. Most people haven't stopped to think how little the ∆T has to be.
Now I think about it all the time, because I spent my career talking about welding, and welding is nothing more than dealing with big thermal gradients all the time. I make an arc weld, I've got thermal gradients of 1,000, 2,000° centigrade per centimeter. Sometimes 1,000° per millimeter if I'm doing laser or electron beam — that means in ten-thousandths of an inch I can have temperature gradients that would cause yield-level residual stresses.
§2. Ceramic coatings on turbine blades [04:35]
When we do dissimilar-material bonding — here's a turbine blade with a ceramic coating on it — the problem in general with metals and ceramics is they vary by about an order of magnitude in thermal expansion coefficient. A ceramic has something on the order of 2 × 10⁻⁶, five times less. So maybe it's 400 or 600 degrees centigrade, you still have some pretty serious problems. And on this blade you've got temperature gradients. If you do the modeling, you've got 500° between here and here. This is attached to the stator, this big massive thing, and the hot gases are hitting right in the center. The thermal model shows a big hot spot in the middle and cool spots down here. How do you keep the ceramic from forming a dried riverbed pattern and flaking off?
You do it several ways. First, the ceramic they always use is zirconia. Why zirconia? It's got a phase transformation, but the coefficient of thermal expansion of zirconia matches that of metals very closely, particularly at elevated temperatures. It's not a factor of five or ten off — it's almost the same. So zirconia has excellent thermal expansion matching. They'd love to use aluminum oxide, but the only way you can use aluminum oxide is in very thin layers. That's what the natural oxide coating is — either chromium oxide or aluminum oxide on most of the superalloys. But that's an extremely thin layer, 100 nanometers thick. For thicker coatings like this, they also plasma-spray on a bond coat first, a nickel-base alloy on the nickel-base alloy. And the bond coat is porous.
Remember the Farberware pot I showed you the other day. They didn't really want 100% bonding in that cold bonding of the aluminum base to the stainless steel pan, because if it was 100%, the difference between aluminum and steel when you go up 600 or 700° would cause warping. If you actually get only a 10% bonded joint — what's the stress on that aluminum at the bottom of a cooking pot? There's not a lot of stress compared to the area of bonding. You actually want porosity at that interface. They want porosity in the bond coat of these turbine coatings too, because what has a better ability to absorb strain than empty space? Voids are wonderful.
I had a student do a doctoral thesis ten years ago who showed through modeling and experiments that if you look at the amount of porosity at an interface in a ceramic-metal joint, you get something like this, where 10% porosity gives you the strongest joint. The residual stresses kill you with no porosity, because of the thermal mismatch. With some porosity you're losing bonded area and you've got stress concentrators, but you're reducing residual stresses. Around 10% it starts to decrease, because now the amount of bonded area is so small. So some porosity actually can be good in a dissimilar-material joint for combating residual stresses.
§3. The strain-energy scaling argument [08:46]
Another principle of dissimilar-metal joints. If I look at plane stress — just a flat slab — and look at the strain energy, you can write down a formula: the difference in modulus of the two materials, the elastic effect, ∆α², ∆T², width², error function — it's being relieved as you go further away from the interface. The strain energy is just like a spring, dx, ½ kx². The bond energy goes linearly with the bond area — proportional to the length or width of the joint. The strain energy increases as the square of the length of the bonded area, and the bond energy goes as the distance to the first power. If you do it axisymmetric, the strain energy goes as the third power of the radius, but the bond area goes as the square of the radius in a circle.
The point is, strain energy always goes one dimension higher than the bonding strength. Which means you can always bond small things, but you can't bond big areas, because strain energy will kill you. You're stretching the spring bigger and bigger, and there's more and more energy there, and eventually it's going to fall apart. The student showed that strain energy was one of the best ways to look at the problem of dissimilar-metal bonding.
You have a problem if you want to do stress or strain. Stress and strain are not scalar properties, not vector properties — they're tensors. There are nine values of strain and nine values of stress, and the tensor matching the two has 81 coefficients. You can prove that only 31 or so are independent, because there's symmetry, and if you assume no volume change you can get it down a little more, but you still end up with a lot. What strain do you use? People have been worrying about this for years, not just in dissimilar-metal joints but in a biaxial tensile test — what do you use for the criteria for failure?
People use von Mises, which is a strain energy criterion — von Mises strain (strain energy), or von Mises stress (basically a square of your stress, an algebraic square). Or there was the Tresca condition originally, which is basically the maximum principal stress. You'd like to have a single number in the real world. As an undergraduate you learn about the 81 stress-strain tensor coefficients, and then you learn you can reduce that to a smaller number, but it's still huge. What number would you use? In practice we found there is a single scalar number — basically the strain energy of the joint — and that goes one dimension larger.
It turns out computer chips haven't been made larger than about a centimeter on a side. In general, integration sizes are such that you can put 10 million transistors on a single chip a centimeter on a side. Ten or twelve years ago they couldn't get that packing density, and when they wanted, I think it was the Pentium 6 or whatever they called it, they actually had two chips, because they couldn't go larger than about a centimeter. If they tried a centimeter and a half on a side, they couldn't bond it to its substrate without it cracking, just from about a 30° centigrade temperature differential that you have to carry the heat out of the chip. If you don't have a temperature gradient, Fourier doesn't help you get the heat out — Fourier says the heat won't flow out if you don't have a temperature gradient. So with a 30 or 40° gradient on the dimensions you have, you really can't bond chips more than about 1 cm on a side. That's just dissimilar-metal bonding.
That's not to say that back in the mid-90s the Defense Department didn't make chips that were an inch or two on a side — but this was all super-classified military stuff, where the interconnect distance had to be small enough to get the speeds they wanted. As they've downsized the chips, that technology has gone away. They don't need to do that. But these were some of the things that Motorola's defense division was doing for the Department of Defense — really pushing well beyond the limits in terms of dimensions you can bond.
Now think about — a couple of you are mechanical or civil structural engineers — what size brazing tool bit do you typically see? If you braze a carbide bit to a piece of steel, it's about a centimeter on a side. You don't see two-inch layers of carbide bonded by a brazing joint to a piece of steel, or diffusion bonded. This is just dissimilar-metal bonding — not necessarily diffusion bonding I'm talking about right now — and it's because of the strain energy. Same thing I just had up on the board. That's not to say there aren't ways around it. You can add porosity to the interface, you can pattern the interface, you can separate it so you essentially put a tile on there with spaces in between. It's like looking at the Stata Center first-floor lobby — they've got concrete on the floor and little gaps in between, so that allows for the thermal expansion.
§4. Activated diffusion bonding [16:38]
There is another type of diffusion bonding that is not used very often. Let's say I've got some surface that has poor surface qualities for diffusion bonding — there's something sometimes called activated diffusion bonding. The example comes out of what used to be known as Rocky Flats, where they used to make nuclear warheads, and they did things that were sort of offbeat and could afford to do things no one else could afford. There's a research paper by O'Brien, Rice and Olson in your notes.
They had very high-strength maraging steel — 200 ksi steel — and they wanted to bond it. The problem is you can't form a diffusion bond at low temperatures. If you go very high in temperature, these maraging steels lose their properties. That's one of the problems of diffusion bonding — I said you get a near-perfect joint but you can't always get the microstructure you want. I heat-treat a steel and make it martensitic, and if I go up to 1,200° to diffusion bond it, it's no longer martensitic and it's lost its strength. And there are other things — you have oxides on the surface that won't let you diffusion bond at low temperature.
What O'Brien, Rice and Olson did is deposit a layer of silver on both surfaces. They called it activated diffusion bonding, but now you're not bonding iron to iron or high-strength iron to high-strength iron, you're bonding silver to silver. Silver is a relatively soft material, and silver doesn't form oxides above 400° F. If you look at the thermodynamics of silver oxide, it decomposes at about 400° F. So you can heat up silver surfaces in a vacuum and drive off by vaporization the surface contamination of the oxide and a lot of the oils. Now you have a very clean surface. It's got its peaks and valleys, but silver is so soft — really pure silver is 10 ksi yield strength. So the amount of force I need to deform those asperities and do a diffusion bond is at 400, 500, 600° temperatures below those at which I would destroy the properties of my high-strength base materials.
If you have a thin enough joint — on the order of a thousandth of an inch thick — you can actually get a joint with a strength in tension of 100 ksi. How? It's called contact strengthening, and I'll talk about that later. Very thin joints: the material enters a state of triaxiality when you pull on it, and it won't yield. It may not be very good in fatigue and it's terrible in shear, because you've got this soft interlayer in between. But in pure tension, you set up a triaxial stress state in that very thin joint, which can take something with a strength of 10 or 20 ksi and make it appear to have a strength of 100 ksi. If you have the proper stress state and you don't want high temperatures, there's an example of a technique where you essentially change the surface.
That's one example. Another is not as esoteric. Let's say I've got a material that's hard to diffusion bond — take aluminum with its aluminum oxide. I can put tin on the surface, and tin will diffuse into aluminum, and hopefully the tin might break up some of that aluminum oxide. Zinc sort of works. Titanium works on a lot of your higher-temperature alloys — change your surface to a titanium surface; titanium is the perfect material for diffusion bonding above 900° centigrade. So plate something on the surface that's easier to diffusion bond, whether it's silver or titanium, and you often can get around a problem.
Student: [inaudible — question about thickness of plated layer]
They could be a half a thousandth — you're electroplating them on, so they can be very thin. They have to be very thin, or you have to use enough force that you actually flatten them significantly. It's in some of the notes — I've got graphs later, actually in the brazing manual. When I get to brazing is when I usually talk about contact strengthening. Braze joints can have a fivefold increase in tensile strength if they're a thousandth thick as opposed to five thousandths thick. It all has to do with this triaxial state of stress you can set up in very thin joints.
To give you a little bit on triaxial state of stress — this is an unyielding surface. The iron is unyielding. This stuff wants to suck in, if you want to think of Poisson's ratio — as you're pulling on it, it wants to pull in. It can't pull in because it's connected to an unyielding surface, so it has an effective stress pulling it out this way. You go with tension in this direction and biaxial tension in the plane, and that's a state of triaxial tension. Does not lead to shear. If you get into Mohr's circles or von Mises cylinders, you can prove to yourself that a state of triaxial tension or triaxial compression does not contribute to deformation. The material will appear much stronger, because it's not going to shear. Metals deform by dislocation motion, and you don't move dislocations with triaxial stresses. So you can play little games like that.
§5. Soldering and brazing — definitions, and the 450° gap [23:47]
I want to now go into soldering and brazing. Nikolai, you brought up soldering and brazing — what is it? These are the standard terms and definitions of the American Welding Society, mostly written by a guy H. Cary. Brazing: "a group of joining processes that produces coalescence of materials in the presence of a filler metal having a liquidus above 450° centigrade or 800° F." If you look up soldering, you'll see the exact same definition except below 450°.
Soldering and brazing are the exact same process. One occurs at high temperatures, one at low temperatures. How did we get to two different sets of terms? Soldering came first. Soldering has been done for thousands of years. I showed you the little solder beads on the Etruscan earrings and King Tut's dagger, where they were soldering with tin. Tin has a melting point below 450° C — it's 212° C — so it's soldering. They actually ended up forming a transient liquid phase diffusion solder joint. Soldering has been around for years; brazing came a little later and people gave it a different name.
This comes out of an old soldering manual and shows the complexity of a solder joint. You've got a soldering iron with this intermetallic compound of iron-tin (if you're talking about lead-tin solder), molten solder, solid solder, a flux, a contaminated surface a little different down here, your base material that you want to solder to, and temperature gradients all through here. Soldering is a fairly complex process, controlled by the inherent wettability of the flux, the solder, the base material, and the solid solder and the liquid solder. That is governed by Young's equation.
Young's equation — you probably studied in some sophomore thermodynamics course. You have a vapor, liquid, and solid, and a little drop of liquid on top of the solid, and you want to know if the liquid will wet the solid. There's some contact angle of the liquid — think of raindrops on a freshly waxed car hood. You draw force vectors coming off this contact point: surface tension between liquid and vapor, solid and liquid, and solid and vapor, at different magnitudes. Resolve the forces in the horizontal direction and you end up with Young's equation: the solid-vapor surface tension equals the solid-liquid plus the horizontal component of the liquid-vapor, which is just the cosine of the contact angle. That's Young's equation.
Here's what I've learned about Young's equation over my career. It's a very simple equation, but the more you think about it, the less you understand it. It's like a tensile test — the more you think about a tensile test, the more complex you realize it is. Things shrinking this way, pulling that way, triaxial states of stress when it starts to neck, gradients in all kinds of directions. One thing about Young's equation: it only applies to equilibrium, and you will see all the time in the literature people trying to apply Young's equation to non-equilibrium situations.
Twenty years ago I was providing funding for Professor Sonin in mechanical engineering, who's retired now. Professor Sonin is an excellent mathematician, fluid-flow analyst. We were trying to do — sort of pre-3D-printed — printing of circuit boards. You could make one-of-a-kind circuit boards by shooting out little drops of lead-tin solder. People have been doing this with polymers; why couldn't we do it with liquid metal? Tens and hundreds of millions of dollars have been spent trying to do this with liquid metals, and it has not yet been perfected after twenty years.
Professor Sonin called me up and said, well Tom, I'm getting all confused. Here's one of the better theoreticians in the mechanical engineering department asking me a question. He was thinking of a solid with a liquid drop on it, and he said, what's the contact angle? I said, you just use Young's equation. Well, no, you don't. The contact angle is not a function of the surface tensions; it's a function of the mass of the drop and the weight of the drop. If it wets, you can put larger amounts of liquid on top of the material. In addition — you could think of it as isothermal at the melting temperature — but in the real experiment it wasn't even at equilibrium. I'm putting a hot drop on top of a cold post when I'm trying to build these up. Whether you assume isothermal or not, you try to work out the math and you find it's an indeterminate problem. By just changing the geometry — it works great in a flat plane, I can explain it to any sophomore in the Institute, but change the geometry a little bit and oops, doesn't work anymore.
That, and the fact that it only applies to equilibrium — Young's equation is oversimplified.
So why do we have this 450° break? Was it just historical that people started talking about soldering and then a couple hundred years ago started talking about brazing? You can look at different families of solders. Here are gallium solders with tin, indium and tin, bismuth, indium-tin-lead, gold with silicon, germanium. Tin forms very deep eutectics, and gold-tin is often used on bonding of semiconductors to their substrates. Here's your lead-tin — 37, okay.
There are temperatures up to 400°. By the way, this 450° C and 840° F — older versions of the American Welding Society it was 800° F, because they didn't know about the centigrade scale back in the old days, like 1990. The Welding Society has learned to use the metric system. Then you can look at brazing alloys: aluminum, silver, gold, copper, nickel, and palladium. And these silver solders are actually silver brazes — we call them silver solders but they are brazes if we want to be precise.
Now there's an interesting thing. This one starts at 500° centigrade, the other stops at 400. What happened between 400 and 500° centigrade? There's nothing on the periodic table that melts in that range. Think of an element that melts in that range. You can go through the lanthanide series — you can't find anything with a melting point in that range. Nature didn't give it to us. There is a natural breaking point between soldering and brazing. There's a certain class of alloys that melt below 400 and a certain class that melt above 500, and 450 is the happy hunting ground between 400 and 500. That's where the International Institute of Welding defines the difference between soldering and brazing. So there is a scientific foundation for it, and it's because nature forgot to give us something that melts in that range.
I've thought about it — meaning I probably spent 60 seconds of my life thinking about it. I haven't thought of a good reason for it. Some chemist who understands bonding kinetics might be able to come up with something, but there's a gap there, and it's a pretty large gap. Out of about a hundred elements, to find that you just miss that range — sure, we miss the range between helium and hydrogen and whatever the next thing is in terms of melting points, but among the metals, we just don't have anything.
§6. Wetting, cleanliness, and the limits of Young's equation [34:52]
Student: Is there any temperature dependence in there? For example, when you're soldering something, if you just try to drop a cold solder wire —
Right. There is a temperature dependence, but once we start talking temperature dependence, we're no longer at equilibrium. People have tried to take Young's equation and develop a kinetic equation of wetting from it, but I've never seen a model that really works or gives you new insight. My insight to you is, don't spend too much time trying to explain what you're thinking about in terms of Young's equation, because you will often just go around in circles. Sometimes it's because you're not at equilibrium — you just imposed a temperature gradient. The other problem is, you don't know what the cleanliness of that surface is. If I go back to my model of soldering — look at what I've got going on at the interface. What is my interfacial tension that I should be talking about? Is it solder against the base material? Solid solder, liquid solder? Is it flux? Is it a contaminated surface?
When you're talking about a wetting phenomenon spreading across the surface, I have never seen a really good model that can predict the solder flow or the braze flow across the surface in the presence of a flux. I've never even seen one other than Young's equation, which is very simple and tends to explain just on a clean surface — take contamination out of it. Young's equation gives us sort of a warm fuzzy feeling, but that's about all it does. I'm not saying Young's equation doesn't have some utility on a simple scale, but that's all it does — on the most simplistic scale.
In the real world of soldering, the kinetics of cleaning control most of our soldering operations. This comes out of an old soldering manual from the 60s. Here's six months old, 21 days old, 24 hours in steam, and a freshly cleaned copper surface. They're looking at different coatings: a resin lacquer, tin-plated copper, silver-plated copper, 6440 — this is the eutectic solder, so you pre-tin it with the low-melting solder. This was put on by roller, immersion, roller, electroplating — different coating methods of the copper, different thicknesses.
They tried a number of experiments. This is the wetting time in seconds. There are a couple of different wetting tests — I may talk about the different ones later, because wetting time becomes important particularly when you're trying to do a printed circuit board. You put the little solder paste on top of the circuit board — you've screen-printed on a solder paste. This one is pre-tinned: copper with electroplate of tin on the surface. You're going to melt the solder to the surface. This is old, lead-tin solders. Nowadays, for the last fifteen years people have spent a lot of money trying to get the lead out of the solder for environmental reasons, which has been a big problem because nothing wets as well or as fast as lead-tin solder. Hundreds of millions of dollars have been spent by industry and government.
The wetting time on a freshly cleaned copper surface, once you get to the melting point, to allow the wetting to occur and the flow to start being pulled across — by Young's equation, except it's not even Young's equation because it's not equilibrium. That's why I said, how are we using Young's equation? We're using it for the general idea, but never in an equilibrium situation. It's less than a second, on the order of a half second. If you let it sit 24 hours in steam, unplated, no coating, fresh copper, you go from half a second to more than ten seconds to get the basic solder to take off that copper oxide tarnish that formed over 24 hours.
If you go to a really good electroplating shop, they go from the cleaning bath directly to soldering. They may have to put some components on in between — capacitors and chips. Typically there's not much more than an hour, and there are military specs that say you must go from cleaning to soldering, melting your solder, within an hour. This is the reason why. With other surfaces — 20, 21 days long-term damp heat — you get similar problems. If it doesn't start wetting within 10 seconds, it's not much good. Six months at normal storage is sort of interesting; some things actually clean up over time after six months.
§7. Solder testing methods and wave soldering [41:24]
This handout is in your handouts. There are various solder tests, some just very practical. One is a globule test: you have your mandrel, you have a wire, you put a piece of solder on there, you heat it up, and afterwards you see if it wet. Stick it in a furnace and — did it wet or not? Pretty simple test.
There's the automated dip test schematic, where you have your whole thing on a rotary dip. You take your circuit board, you have a pendulum, and you swing it spring-loaded so it goes swinging across the surface of this liquid solder bath, and then you look to see if all the joints got made in the amount of time. Depending on what you have for dampers or springs, you can change the amount of time on the solder bath that it's actually in contact with the solder.
And for merely $50,000 you can have one of your own — a machine that measures a wire. This is going to be a copper wire going into a solder bath as a function of time. I've got this little wire I'm going to drop into the solder bath, and when it first touches, that's time T = 0. Initially the wetting angle is such that it makes the wire feel like it weighs less. The wire is on a balance, so you're weighing the wire. Surface tension is such that it's floating, and the force on the balance decreases. When the wetting actually increases — you've got a 90° contact angle — it comes back through zero when it actually wets, and now surface tension is sucking it in, it goes up to a positive force. It stays there, and if you try to pull it out, it should show a little residual force because you have a little bit of solder stuck to the surface.
You can do it in a system where everything is hot, or where it's cold. Typically the wire is cold, because this is a practical test. You're going to be putting your circuit board into the system cold and the bath is going to be hot, so the whole thing is in temperature gradients. These $50,000 machines can do various things. You're trying to simulate what's going to happen in what we call wave soldering.
Wave soldering is the way most circuit boards are soldered today. You have a circuit board with the components on it — this is sort of old. They either put a foam flux on the surface, spray a liquid flux, or it could be a gaseous flux in the system, to do the cleaning. These are your components on the other side, but they have many components that survive the plating bath. The bath might be three or four times as long as from here to the window, and the actual bath of solder might be two of these tables long. You've got five or ten tons of solder being pumped — liquid solder pumped at a couple hundred degrees centigrade — up, and it goes over a little weir, so you've got a waterfall, a solder fall, going over this. You have a high spot over the weir, and you bring this in. Typically you bring it in at a slight angle, but this shows everything flat. You end up scouring off the oxides and the contaminants — they call it wave soldering. Your solder becomes the heat source to heat up the copper wires. They could be preheated.
§8. VAX 9000, Ken Olsen, and the cost of bad bonding [46:17]
In a good shop, this occurs within an hour of cleaning the copper for the circuit board and then maybe plating it. Now, twenty-four years ago, in the manufacturing program at MIT, I had three of the four students I was supervising that year working in a partnership to build the VAX 9000 computer. This was Digital Equipment, and Motorola, or maybe Rogers Corporation — two firms down in Arizona. They wanted to bond Digital Equipment's latest and greatest type of chip — like this little Intel chip — and it was on a TAB bonding tape. We haven't really talked about this; we'll probably talk about it Monday.
By the way, I'm around Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday next week, no class on Wednesday, and Dr. Belmar's gone next week, so four classes next week of me. TAB — tape automated bonding — a tape that had a computer chip on it. Digital Equipment was making the tapes, and Rogers Corporation was supposed to be bonding them down in Arizona. They would be made in Cupertino, California, and the inner lead bonds would be made up there; the outer lead bonds were made about three or four weeks later in Arizona.
I told you cleanliness is next to godliness, and you should bond within an hour. Three or four weeks is more than an hour. They were having terrible problems with bond quality, and there are 400 inputs and outputs, and one bad joint means you've got a piece of junk. Their yield was essentially near zero. This was back in the late 80s when IBM was the world's market leader in computer technology — they had this $40 billion business, which today would be equivalent of a $100, $120 billion business in mainframe computers. PCs were not yet powerful enough to do a lot of the number crunching.
Digital Equipment decided they were going to go after this $40 billion business instead of minicomputers — they were going after the mainframe computer business. They invested several billion dollars. They never really got the VAX 9000 to work very well; they didn't sell very many. They gave one to MIT. They essentially killed Digital Equipment — they went bankrupt by the mid-90s, because of that VAX 9000 project primarily, and a few other poor choices, like they didn't believe in RISC. Ken Olsen, who had founded Digital Equipment.
Early on MIT owned 7% of Digital Equipment, but they decided it wasn't appropriate for a university to own that much of a company, so they divested well before they could have made a few hundred million dollars off selling their stock. Ken Olsen thought RISC — reduced instruction set computing — were you familiar with the difference? A PC runs on what's called complex instruction set computing, but most of your Hewlett Packard printers run on reduced instruction set computing, where you don't have a whole lot of — it's in your machine language, not your software, not Java that you're used to, but if you go to the machine language, someone has to still program that chip in terms of binary code. Their complex instruction set was what everyone had used for 35, 40 years.
Around 1990, computer scientists came along and said you don't need to have so many instructions in your binary code, you can have a reduced set of 10% of those things — it's more lines of code, but it's going to be simpler. Ken Olsen, president and chairman of Digital Equipment, said RISC is a fad. I remember guys from Hewlett Packard saying, great, he doesn't understand where the world is going. They were absolutely right. That was what allowed Hewlett Packard to grow. They were not a computer company in 1990. They were sort of making some printers, and their printer business took off as over half their business, because they were doing RISC programming. It turns out it was just the right niche. Meanwhile Ken Olsen was trying to make a VAX 9000 that didn't really work, and Digital Equipment no longer exists.