Engines of Democracy

Simplicity, by Design

The jet engine, like the telephone and antibiotics, is one of those wonders of modern technology that works so well that it has rendered itself mundane. That someone who lives in Topeka can decide on a whim to go to Tokyo, and be there in less than a day, is truly miraculous.

Unlike the computer chip or the MRI scanner, whose underlying technology is impenetrable to the ordinary person, jet engines work so simply, so elegantly, that they can be understood by a precocious fifth-grader. The principles of jet-engine design and operation are these: Suck. Squeeze. Bang. And blow. A jet engine moves itself along by sucking in air; compressing that air; mixing the compressed air with fuel and a spark to get a dramatic, controlled expansion of the air (that is, an explosion); and aiming that explosion out the back end of the jet.

It's just that simple.

The simplicity of the modern jet engine makes its power all the more impressive. GE's big jet engine -- the GE90, one of the most powerful commercial-jet engines in production -- generates 92,000 pounds of thrust. The Boeing 777 airplane, which is powered by the GE90, weighs 300,000 pounds when it's empty. Loaded with fuel, 350 people, their luggage, and food, the plane doubles in weight. It requires only two GE90s to fire a fully loaded 777 through the air at 600 mph. And the plane can fly safely on just one engine.

Although the engines made in Durham operate on principles that are easy to grasp, the specifics of engine design, assembly, and operation are anything but elementary. Walk up to a group of three people working at GE/Durham and ask, "So what are you working on?" and, likely as not, the answer will require a 20-minute explanation, along with the aid of a hastily sketched diagram.

John "Hoss" Swain, 54, Paul Bryan, 32, and Pat Miller, 31, are hunched over a stand that holds a metal ring about three feet across. While it looks like a ring, it's actually a seal, designed to keep exhaust gases inside the GE90 engine at a critical point. It works in much the same way that a washer in a garden hose does. Swain, Bryan, and Miller are measuring the seal to see if it is perfectly round.

How round? "It can't be more than four 1,000ths of an inch out of round," says Miller. That's about half as thick as a human hair. In other words, this three-foot-wide ring must be round within the tolerance of a single hair. If it isn't exactly that round, gaps will develop between sealing surfaces. With the parts turning at 10,400 RPMs, even a small gap can cause a decrease in performance. So these guys measure every single seal on every single engine. "This has never been four 1,000ths of an inch out of true in the four years I've been measuring these," says Miller. "Never."

Money alone can't motivate people to perform this well. At GE/Durham, people strive for perfection, expecting no reward other than their own satisfaction. This place has no performance incentives. And so, as impressive as the technology of the jet engine is, as demanding and precise as the assembly process must be, as unforgiving as the engines and the airlines are of even the slightest flaw, the human technology by which GE/Durham organizes its work is no less impressive. In some ways, in fact, the management of the Durham plant is more impressive than its products. High-performance turbo-fan jet engines can be found at every major airport. But a place where workers are given real responsibility is about as common in the world of work as an out-of-round aft-shaft seal is at this plant.

Pat Miller knows that as vividly as anyone. His last job was as technically advanced as any in the aviation-mechanics world. "I came from Northrop Grumman, in Palmdale, California, where I was working on the B-2 bomber," says Miller. "That plane, which used Stealth technology, was as high-tech as you can get. But someone else wrote the assembly process. Here, I write the process -- at the mechanic level. There, I was on a 'team,' but I also had a supervisor. He had a boss. And there were other bosses above him. In two years of working there, I never saw the plant manager. Every day, my boss would just hand me my job. I had no input at all -- none. I'm much happier here. I can change what goes on."