I by looking at lines of thought that have in the past intersected with this concept. In Part II, “Doing,” we’ll start to make use of this new approach to design smarter products. But for now, let’s jump in and talk about dinosaurs.
CHAPTER 1
The Thermostat That Evolved
Then the Nest Learning Thermostat
Let’s begin with an evolutionary fable. About 275 million years ago, a tiny, lizard-like creature broke free from its egg with a trait that was very unusual for its kind. Unlike the rest of her cold-blooded family, whose body temperature matched the ambient temperature, this little mutant produced her own heat. On the positive side, her mutation meant she could move around just fine in winter while her kin slowed down. On the negative side, it meant that she was ravenous all the time, and could feel cold and heat as direct threats to her weird new metabolism. To compensate, she had to develop some adaptive behaviors—that is, she had to find ways to stay cool in summers and warm in winters.
Fast-forward the video of this tale, and despite her being a world-class weirdo, she thrives and has kids. Her kids have kids. Two hundred million years pass and what was like a thick lizard now looks more like early platypuses, kangaroos, and mice. Cold-blooded types eyeball them suspiciously over mouthfuls of weird Cretaceous insects. Then, out of nowhere, a cataclysmic asteroid drops. Cold-blooded creatures cannot handle the global climate change like the mutant ones do. Goodbye dinosaurs, hello vacant ecological niche. After the dust clears: more kids, who dutifully evolve and speciate. Tree climbers. Grass eaters. Sea swimmers. Primates. Homo Sapiens. “Hello world!” Then ultimately, you, wherever you are, reading this book. Most of which can be traced back to that tiny therapsid’s weird mutation.
This is an oversimplified (seriously, don’t base your paleontology degree on this) introduction to the mammalian branch of the tree of life. We’re a small part of that branch, and it means we’re stuck with those same positives and negatives of being homeothermic, notably that we have to work to keep ourselves comfortable—neither too cold nor too warm. There are behaviors, of course, like huddling together or staying in shadow, but this book is about the evolution of tools. So what tools have we used to help us with the warm-blooded problem of temperature regulation?
Tools for Temperature
Grab a broad leaf with a sturdy stem, and you’ll have a simple fan to move air around. Wrap yourself in fur, blanket, or cloth and you can keep more of your body heat on you. Find a branch struck by lightning and you can carry that flame around, set the flammable stuff alight (whee!), and put the fire inside spaces, which can contain that heat.
Fireplaces, furnaces, and furnace doors allow some manual control of warm air. Even architectural features like curtains, doors, and windows act as simple tools that help control the flow of air, keeping the comfortable air on you and the uncomfortable air at bay.
These tools allowed you to physically work to control the temperature. That was on top of all of the labor required by the rest of living. Sometimes it was too much. (Get up and bar the door!) Such was the poor state of human thermal management until the Mennonites brought us a Dutch inventor by the name of Cornelis Drebbel.
Drebbel’s Incubator
Born in Alkmaar, North Holland in 1572, Drebbel was the fair-haired, handsome son of a landowner (or farmer, history is vague on the details).1 At an early age, he was sent to apprentice under the engraver Hendrick Goltzius, whose interest in alchemy rubbed off on the young pupil. Alkmaar at the time was also home to a large group of Mennonite scientists and inventors, and Cornelis’ young mind showed both an interest in and aptitude for invention. In his mid-to-late 20s, he was granted patents for a pump, a “perpetual motion” clock, and a chimney design. After marrying Feijtge, one of the younger sisters of his master (hey, a young apprentice can’t be expected to engrave all the time), he moved to seek greater fortunes in London. There his inventions caught the attention of King James I, and he was invited into the service of Henry, Prince of Wales, where he worked on other inventions. Despite a brief stint at court in Prague, it was in England that Cornelis lived out his days and invented what is regarded as the first automatic temperature regulator.
It worked like this: Inside an oven, furnace, or incubator, the warming air would cause a column of mercury to slowly rise until it would close a damper on the heat source. This closure allowed the temperature to drop back down slowly, lowering the mercury and reopening the damper. The simple feedback mechanism allowed Drebbel to tweak the height of the column of mercury and the qualities of the damper to gain fairly good automatic control over the temperature.
For the first time, people didn’t need to put in manual effort to manage the specific warmth of a space. What is now known as a feedback loop inside the machine managed it all for them automatically. It was a lot less work. Using the Drebbel system, people didn’t need to use a tool, but could just set up a heat source and leave it running until they no longer wanted the heat.
Others would later invent competing mechanisms, but they were still its conceptual heirs.
In 1885, Albert Butz was granted a patent on a device with the ungainly name of “damper flapper,” which lifted a flap as it got cold, fueling a fire with more air, and lowering again as it heated up. That patent gained the attention of a young engineer named Mark Honeywell, who purchased it and 20 years later under the auspices of the Electric Heat Regulator Company released the Jewell thermostat to the market. It included a thermometer to add some objective data to the temperature-setting task.
Around the same time, Warren S. Johnson used pneumatics in the late 1880s to allow for automatic temperature control in individual rooms. His product formed the basis of Johnson Controls, which has since evolved into the megacorporation Johnson & Johnson.
The invention of electricity allowed engineers in the 1950s to replace clunky analog components with tidier wires and circuits. In that same decade, Henry Dreyfuss, working for the now-giant Honeywell corporation, introduced the Round, a gorgeously designed thermostat that combined the thermometer readout with the control wheel in a unified way. It was not only an icon of gorgeous mid-century modern design, but it was also the thermostat control in most homes for nearly three decades.
