|FREDERICK EMMONS TERMAN–author, teacher,
mentor, university administrator and maker of policy par excellence was
beyond any reasonable doubt responsible for the concentration of
economic accomplishment in what has come to be known as California's
Silicon Valley, as well as for important innovations in engineering. Son
of National Academy of Sciences member the late Lewis Madison Terman,
Frederick Terman achieved perhaps as distinguished a reputation for his
work in electronics and education as his father who was credited with
development and widespread adoption of the IQ test had in psychology and
Like his father, the younger Terman was gifted with remarkable energy
and clearly defined goals. He achieved a lifetime of accomplishment in
spite of a setback caused by severe illness (tuberculosis) contracted in
1924. His distinctions included the Presidential Medal for Merit; the
IRE (now IEEE) Founder's Award; and Stanford's highest, the Uncommon Man
Award. He was a founding member of the National Academy of Engineering.
Perhaps more than any other individual since the university's start, he
left his mark on Stanford University. Terman served successively as
electrical engineering department head, dean of engineering, and
provost. His approach to support of graduate education had the effect of
winning Stanford University a nationwide
reputation, and the approach has been adopted by many other
institutions. At one point Stanford, which prior to the war was scarcely
known nationally, was graduating more Ph.D.s in electrical engineering
Terman married in 1928 and fathered three children.
Born in 1900, he passed away peacefully in his sleep in 1982.
Frederick Terman had a profound influence on the lives of many others,
as well as on his profession, his technical specialty, his university,
and indeed his country, as his many awards and prizes make clear. To
accomplish all this required phenomenal concentration. If there was a
single theme that characterized his life and may in some measure explain
his success, it would be his ability to take advantage of opportunities
(for example, maintaining contact with former students of unusual skill,
keeping in touch with friends in industry, etc.) This theme will appear
frequently in this memoir.
The Terman family moved to Stanford University in 1912 and settled in a
home on the farm-like campus where Fred grew up. The senior Terman was
inventor and co-developer of the Stanford Binet intelligence (or IQ)
test, which was widely used in World War I for screening recruits. As
part of his research on measuring IQs, he identified a number of
individuals having exceptionally high scores, and presumably exceptional
intelligence. One of these proved to be his son Frederick. At the time
very little of a scientific nature was known about such gifted individuals in
particular it could not be said whether the high intelligence was a help
or a hindrance. A study was organized to follow their careers as long as
possible. Interim reports (understandably) aroused considerable
interest. A finding of one such study was that those with exceptional IQ
did considerably better than average career-wise and in their personal
lives. This circumstance may well have had an influence informing
Fred Terman's personal philosophy concerning the importance to any
organization of truly gifted individuals, who with their followers could
be said to form "steeples of excellence."
Since his father believed in progressive education, the younger Terman
did not begin his formal schooling until age nine. He graduated from
Stanford in 1920 with a major in chemistry. He then switched his field
to electrical engineering, receiving a master's degree in 1922. He went
to MIT for his doctorate, where he was a student of Academy member
Vannevar Bush, another choice that surely helped later. Upon completing
his degree in 1924 he was offered an instructorship at MIT, but before
he could begin it, he fell victim to a severe form of tuberculosis,
which sent him to bed for a year and very nearly took his life. During a
protracted convalescence at Palo Alto, he nevertheless managed to teach
electrical engineering on a part-time basis in 1925 at Stanford. He then
decided to stay on at Stanford and accept a full-time appointment in
electrical engineering. During the same period he began work on his
first textbook on radio engineering, which was designed to be an
improvement on the then leading text in this field authored by
Columbia's J. H. Morecroft. The Morecroft text reflected a strong
program in radio engineering at Columbia University. For example, its
faculty included such well-known early contributors to the art as Edwin
H. Armstrong, credited among other things with the invention of FM.
Although Stanford had had for several years a distinguished program in
electric power engineering under Academy member Harris J. Ryan, there
was no formal instruction in radio (or what we now call electronics)
until Terman came along. Thus, the decision to compete with Morecroft
must have required courage.
Since there were no resources available for building a
new program in radio engineering at privately supported Stanford
University, Terman had to use every possible source of funds. First were
the royalties on textbooks, and in this Terman was successful from the
start. In addition, he found that even though it might not be
particularly strong, a viable individual patent in a particular field
could nevertheless have appreciable value to a company already holding a
group of patents in that field. For a second income source, Terman found
it possible at least in the early days to make patentable improvements
to existing inventions, claiming that almost anyone could do it, and
that a rate of one or two saleable inventions per month is not unusual.
By his own admission, young Fred was not a distinguished inventor like
the University of California's Ernest Lawrence, whom he greatly admired.
Terman had a remarkable ability to understand complex material and to
present it in books, articles, and teaching in such a way that his
readers found it easy to grasp. His well-respected textbooks brought in
a steady stream of income, much of which he plowed back to support
educational enterprise at Stanford. His radio engineering texts were at
one time the second most valuable book property of the McGraw-Hill Book
Company, being exceeded in popularity only by a standard treatise on
Terman's own inventions and contributions to the state of the art can be
better understood by recalling that in his early days the way vacuum
tubes amplified was poorly understood. For example, it was not clear
whether residual gas inside the bulb improved results or made them
worse. By showing that the tube represented a problem in electrostatics
and by deriving a simple but effective equivalent circuit, Terman and
his colleagues made the tube amplify so effectively that there was in
effect more gain available than needed for the minimum functions. The
extra gain could
then be used to achieve results not previously contemplated (for
example, negative feedback in amplifiers). Since vacuum tubes were
costly, a great deal of effort was devoted in those days to cutting down
the number needed to perform a given task. One thrust of Terman's work
showed not only how to get maximum gain from a given set of tubes, but
also what interesting things could be done once that gain was available.
Preparation of Terman's textbooks and patent disclosures required visits
to manufacturing concerns to establish the state of the art in areas of
When Terman returned to Stanford University in 1946 as dean of
engineering, he applied his wartime reputation and experience to
augmenting the university's income by encouraging research for the U.S.
government, which reimbursed its contractors generously. His success
with building the engineering department then led to his appointment as
provost, where he was instrumental in building other departments as
The success of Terman's books (which had a profound effect on his
reputation in electrical engineering) may be traced in part to his
choice of subject matter. During the late 1930s most electrical
engineering texts were dominated by needs and attitudes of the by then
reasonably mature and in some respects standardized electric power
industry. Communication, if mentioned at all, was subservient to
electric power engineering. Terman's texts reversed this order; radio
came first and a-c analysis as needed. In Terman's books mathematical
analysis was used when needed and appropriate, and design information
was also given. Mathematical derivations primarily for their own sake
were avoided. This sometimes gave his texts a deceptively simple
appearance, however readers looking for rigor in the mathematical
discussions were never disappointed.
Another characteristic of Terman's texts was that they
addressed themselves to the user's needs. He always undertook to find
out whether a particular design approach described in published
literature was actually favored in practice. He would take the trouble
to contact the chief engineers of important radio companies to find out
which device or approach was widely used. To compensate his informants
for their trouble he kept them in touch with the abler Stanford
engineering degree candidates. In this way he acted as a sort of one-man
In planning his own teaching career at Stanford, Terman must have been
influenced by his experience at MIT, where students supplemented
theoretical work on campus with practical experience in industry. At
Stanford the only such industry contact was incidental to faculty
consulting. While arrangements of this sort augmented professors'
salaries, they did little to improve the quality of university
instruction in the subject field. Financial support was particularly
important if students were to be attracted to a privately supported
university in those post-depression years. Since there were only a few
local manufacturers interested in or able to pay for research at
Stanford, it was natural if not inevitable to explore other
possibilities, such as the U.S. government.
Still another source of support used in attracting able students was
acquisition of discarded equipment from firms contacted by Terman for
information needed in his textbooks; he was very skilled at securing
gifts of nonstandard but nevertheless entirely workable apparatus.
This activity required that Terman keep in touch with defense research
circles in Washington, D.C. It is possible that these contacts plus
those resulting from his textbooks had more than a little to do with his
appointment in 1942 as director of a newly established civilian
counter-radar laboratory, a counterpart of the pro-radar MIT Radiation
in Cambridge, Mass. The new organization was called the Radio Research
Laboratory (RRL) and was assigned a very high security level by the
military services. This caused some puzzlement at the time, because
hardly anybody knew what radar was, much less radar countermeasures.
A further factor making Terman a particularly happy choice was his wide
circle of acquaintanceships among radio engineers resulting from his, by
then, widely read textbooks plus his professional work for the Institute
of Radio Engineers (IRE). (He was the first national president of that
organization from west of the Mississippi River.) A complicating factor
in staffing RRL was caused by the great many physicists who had already
signed up for the radar and atomic bomb efforts; it was expressly
forbidden to approach anyone already spoken for.
Located at Harvard University, by the end of the war the RRL staff had
grown to about 800 persons. The group included a few atomic physicists,
whose mysterious disappearance as the end of the war approached gave
rise to some inevitable conjectures. There were also two world-famous
astronomers, as well as a remarkable group of radio engineers, many of
whom were recruited from prominent industrial laboratories (such as
radio broadcasting), which for one reason or another had not previously
become involved in war work.
The extent of Terman's previous administrative experience can be
surmised from his being head of the Stanford electrical engineering
department, which in those days consisted of some five faculty members.
At the first official cocktail party he and his wife gave after
establishment of the Cambridge laboratory, the Termans found it prudent
to seek how-to-give-a-party advice from an eastern U.S. student couple
of their acquaintance. There had been no need to acquire this recondite
skill at Stanford, because the
university's founding grant strictly forbade alcoholic beverages both on
campus and in neighboring Palo Alto. Faculty-student socializing at
Stanford had traditionally been done at dessert parties.
Radar countermeasures (in case the reader is wondering) consist
basically of active jammers (i.e., interfering signal sources), passive
reflectors or jammers (also known as "window" and
"chaff"), and search receivers for locating the radar to be
jammed. Like standard communication sets, these devices were often
needed in quantity. In the case of "window" as many as several
hundred packages might be required per plane.
In using these devices, enemy counteraction frequently had to be taken
into account. For example, given advance warning, the Germans could, to
some extent, mitigate the effect of the jammers by changing the
operating frequency of their radars. Anticipating this action and
providing for it in advance was an important part of jammer design.
Getting the right number of jammers to the places where they were
needed, and at the right time, was a logistics problem that proved
taxing to normal military supply procedures. Civilian assistance proved
helpful. Seeing to it that the jamming transmitters were used in the
proper fashion was an additional challenge. (For example, jammers do no
good if they are tuned to the wrong radio frequency.) Terman's
laboratory had the task of finding out which jammers would be important
and in what quantities and locations, so they could be manufactured
sufficiently far in advance to get to their destinations through the
standard military supply channels. It is generally conceded that
Terman's group did an outstanding job of dealing with these challenges
by following his advice of "keeping your eye on the ball."
One of the sources of undesirable delay was the well-known tendency for
able engineers to make a workable
device even better. Research engineers tend to build prototype devices,
which, however elegant they may have seemed to the designer, could not
be manufactured in the available time. It is better to have an inelegant
but workable solution delivered on time than a more refined solution
that could not be delivered until too late. To speed the supply process
RRL followed MIT's example in establishing a transition office whose
purpose was to speed up the passage of equipment through prototype
design and construction, field test, production design and test,
manufacturing, instruction book preparation, packing, field shipment,
and finally, user training.
The transition office reported directly to the director, and its job was
not considered complete until sufficient of the desired "black
boxes" were not only performing in the field as planned, but were
producing the desired effect. Other requirements for the black boxes
included minimizing space and weight, making adjustment straightforward,
and having the device rugged enough to operate under severe
accelerations at unconscionably high altitudes for those times. Many
problems of an unusual nature both psychological and technical were
encountered, and in most instances, innovative solutions were found.
Terman took an active role in supervising the work, dropping in on the
various groups (as he did with university students in the laboratory)
and making useful suggestions. He believed in the hands-on approach. He
was especially good at avoiding related activities, which, however
interesting they may have been, did not bring RRL perceptibly closer to
its fundamental goal.
As as example of Terman's ability to take advantage of opportunities,
one might cite his good fortune in having acquired a wartime home next
door to a senior member of the Harvard business staff (William H.
Claflin). Chats over the backyard fence on weekends seem to have yielded
insights and information concerning Harvard University customs and
practices. An occasional conflict between university customs and
military requirements took place. An example of an unexpected situation
was the fire accidentally set in the black cloth used to disguise the
operating wavelength of a high power jammer called TUBA. Since the
antenna was located on the roof, and the firemen had no security
clearances to enter the laboratory, they could not get to the fire by
conventional access means.
Terman often expressed his gratitude for Claflin's advice and
assistance. One of the best indicators of the effectiveness of an
organization is whether it stimulates imitation, and RRL qualified on
that score. Various military laboratories held both the technical and
administrative program of RRL in considerable respect.
Terman's success as director of RRL led to his receipt of various high
prestige offers, but both during the war and later he remained intensely
loyal to Stanford. He was appointed head of the electrical engineering
department during the war, and accepted the post of engineering dean
The year 1942 must have been incredibly busy. In addition to assuming
directorship of a rather sizeable organization put together at wartime
speed, Terman also completed his Radio Engineers' Handbook, a
volume particularly remarkable because of the coherence of presentation
made possible by sole authorship.
Throughout his life, Terman showed great ingenuity in taking advantage
of opportunities. His decision to write a series of textbooks intended
for a wide audience rather than specialists led him to visit regularly a
variety of companies in the radio manufacturing field. These visits,
whose primary purpose was to inform him of contemporary practices, also
helped him identify job opportunities for his students,
especially during the depression years. In addition, he could frequently
arrange for gifts of equipment to the university obsolete, perhaps, but
nonetheless of value for instructional purposes.
As another example, he published a textbook on measurements in radio
engineering, which was in large measure based on experience derived from
a measurements laboratory he and his students built as part of the
Stanford instructional facility. The book was particularly attractive in
its day because of the direct hands-on experience it represented.
Terman also used his students to catch typographical errors in his
texts. This was both great fun and part of the instructional process.
Some of his books went through several editions, and in this way they
were considerably improved each time.
Terman must have received help formally or informally from his
psychologist father. Certainly, his procedure of seeking out
above-average students, rather than selecting at random from an entire
applicant group, suggests that. (Mrs. Terman was a student of Fred
It is interesting that in the selection process for new appointments the
younger Terman did not exclusively rely on IQ scores. While this was
useful information, he felt it was important to look at the components
of the score, or at the student's detailed academic record. Sometimes,
otherwise very able students are turned off by unexciting courses. The
trick is to watch for high grades in difficult subjects. A low IQ score
in a given subject or overall did not necessarily signal a lack of
Another indicator of ability used by F. E. Terman in a manner unusual
for his time was extracurricular activity. He found that the most
effective individuals were those who, after completing their course
work, had time left to
do things on the outside, such as athletics, hobbies, or business.
Terman's acquaintance with Vannevar Bush must have had an influence direct
or indirect on his choice as director of the Radio Research Laboratory
at Harvard University. It can be said that the younger Terman had little
experience in running a large organization. The professionals among its
staff included such specialists as physicists and astronomers, as well
as radio engineers with years of industrial experience. In the course of
its work the laboratory interacted with a large number of military
users, some of whom did not feel particularly pleased to have assistance
from a civilian organization. RRL was the lead laboratory of Division 15
of the National Defense Research Committee (NDRC), which in turn was an
agency of the Office of Scientific Research and Development (OSRD).
OSRD's role in the U.S. war effort was to decide in each instance
whether a piece of science-based equipment to aid the military could be
developed; to develop it and show that it was indeed useful; and
finally, to persuade the military to adopt and use it. The last item was
as difficult as it was important, because several of the armed services
especially toward the latter part of the war had laboratories of their
own in which developments parallel to those of the NDRC were being
carried out. While some military service individuals generously aided
and accepted the NDRC, others, by insisting on the superiority of their
own special approaches, were a source of strain and even programmatic
In spite of or perhaps because of wartime pressures, defusing these
situations required great tact and skill. Terman deserves credit for his
choice of A. Earl Cullum, Jr., as associate director. Cullum was given
responsibility for RRL's external relations. A consulting radio engineer
having extraordinary tact and originality in human relations and
building, Cullum had a number of years of experience in the ways of
officialdom in Washington, D.C. He was a happy choice, and the team of
Terman and Cullum proved very effective.
One reason for its effectiveness was what Terman called "keeping
one's eye on the ball." This might be defined as deciding at any
given time on the most important objectives and moving toward them in
spite of the most plausible distractions, and there was never a
shortage. It could be said that the technological problems faced by the
laboratory were in some respects not as challenging as the human
problems, many of which required great ingenuity to solve.
A troublesome item, at least initially, was finding out exactly what
countermeasures were needed in a given situation. This required
determining what enemy radars might be planned for use, what their
characteristics were, and how they were currently being used all highly
sensitive information not normally shared by the military with
civilians. One of the first steps taken by NDRC was to devise improved
search receivers and procedures for acquiring intelligence of the type
needed by RRL. In this connection, invaluable assistance was received
from the U.S. Allies, particularly the British. The U.S. mission
differed sufficiently (e.g., daylight versus nighttime bombing) to
justify an independent search effort.
Later, receivers were initially used to give threat indication and for
checking jammer frequency coverage. Next came devising the transmitting
electronic jammers themselves plus the passive arrangement code-named
"window" and "chaff." This consisted of thin strips
of tinfoil a few inches in length. Several of these would create, in
falling to the ground, a radar echo equivalent to that of a bomber.
These were ejected from the plane to create electronic clouds in which
the plane could hide at least temporarily to
evade ground-based, fire-control radar or airborne fighter attack.
Although the British were among the first to experiment with chaff,
Terman made a major contribution to its practicality by arranging for L.
J. Chu of MIT (a specialist in electromagnetic theory) to do a complete
theoretical analysis so that the design could be optimized. This plus
important mechanical innovations made by RRL staff saved, over time,
hundreds of tons of aluminum and made any given plane's complement of
chaff very much more effective.
Development of the needed electronic jammers called for solution of a
large number of individual problems, such as high voltage equipment that
could operate at high altitudes without pressurization. Engineers who
had spent their civilian careers combating noise suddenly found
themselves engaged in trying to produce (and utilize) noise in
spectacularly large amounts. Many of the initial RRL devices used the
existing state of the art, but methods for generating random noise or
energy sources of extremely high RF power required novel approaches.
A most difficult problem was seeing to it that working jammers were not
only developed but were also engineered for volume production. It was
found necessary to monitor every step of the way from factory to field
operation, since roadblocks could and frequently did develop as a result
of the sheer size and bulk of the military procurement process.
Fortunately, when differences of opinion developed and when it was
absolutely necessary, civilians could bypass the military chain of
command and straighten out mix-ups that might otherwise have been very
troublesome. Of course, this required great tact.
The need for speed in development, procurement, and deployment of
military apparatus was never more keenly felt than in the case of radar
countermeasures whose use
depended on the enemy's disposition and utilization of his radars. In
addition, the relative need for some countermeasures depended both on
our own frequently changing deployments and the impact on them of enemy
activity. The successful use of radar countermeasures by our forces
during the Second World War depended in no small measure on the skillful
direction of Terman's RRL effort. That effort extended far beyond the
walls of the laboratory at Harvard. The military was assisted at every
step of the way; for obvious reasons, this assistance had to be low key
and largely anonymous, but it was effective.
Terman's personnel challenges were both internal and external to the
organization. Inside the laboratory, there was a large staff, many of
whom had headed successful industrial laboratories of considerable size.
It was unavoidable that laboratory leaders did not see eye to eye on all
issues of importance. One of Terman's policies helped him avoid or
settle a number of conflicts. In the case of untried individuals, he
always waited for signs of natural leadership to emerge before
appointing that person to a position of importance. In the end it was
Terman's reputation, to which his textbooks greatly contributed, that
saw him over the rough spots.
Terman's outside challenges included a few persons and organizations
already to some extent in the radar countermeasures field, who
understandably felt threatened by the activity at Harvard. This required
tact on the part of Terman and Cullum. By including all concerned (even
rivals) in the planning and decision-making process in what came to be
called "smoke-filled sessions," working at cross purposes was
avoided to a considerable extent.
Terman had a remarkable ability to persuade others to adopt the fresh
viewpoints he introduced on many issues. This was especially noticeable
when he was building up
Stanford University. (For example, see R. S. Lowen, Creating the Cold
War University, Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press,
1997.) He used mathematically based arguments when appropriate. If
adequate information on a particular issue was unavailable, Terman would
arrange to collect it. When at all possible, he would base his value
judgments on quantitative considerations, such as classroom attendance,
costs of preparing teaching materials, etc. As might be expected, the
mathematical approach (for example, the amount of research money a
certain department had either spent or brought in during the last year)
had the effect of upsetting some of those affected, particularly in the
humanities, since some faculty members were unaccustomed to such
procedures and in some cases understandably felt threatened. Terman was
very skilled in dealing with these reactions. He could foresee them and
would come to meetings well prepared with counter arguments. Terman was
quite insistent on advance preparation, which was known as "doing
one's homework." This procedure caused Terman to be (understandably
and perhaps unavoidably) unpopular in certain circles. However, for the
most part his proposals represented win-win situations. Once the initial
shock wore off, the new procedures usually went smoothly. In preparing
his own proposals as provost, Terman took maximum advantage of his own
and his father's familiarity both with the campus and the likes and
dislikes of the faculty. It is probably fair to say that throughout his
life, Terman's enthusiasts and supporters considerably outnumbered his
detractors in terms of true influence.
In the postwar years, an important consideration in winning over
non-defense sponsors was the generosity of the funding made available
when sponsors followed the Defense Department example. It was a pleasant
surprise that other parts of the government (such as the U.S. Army Corps
Engineers) adopted the same generous contracting procedures as those
used by the Defense Department when the relatively penurious approach
followed by the National Science Foundation was a clear alternative.
That Terman so clearly foresaw the generous alternative that was
selected is to his credit, since the possibility was by no means obvious
at the time.
The success of Terman's wartime radar countermeasures program was not
unnoticed by the large backlog of students (and their advisors) in
search of university degrees under the GI Bill. Electrical engineering
was particularly attractive because of its clear-cut civilian
applications. In making appointments, Terman followed his philosophy of
strengthening specialties (such as semiconductor devices), which led to
additional applications. In addition, to attract attention he made
certain landmark appointments of well-known individuals, such as the
late William Shockley, co-inventor of the transistor. As a result, there
was little difficulty in finding outstanding students or research
support, for that matter. The principal objections at the university to
Terman's proposed program of appointments were the faculty members and
others who objected to military-sponsored research on general
principles; those who felt that support by the government would destroy
the unique financial independence of the university; and those who felt
that research having a military component was more like development and
not sufficiently theoretical for an institution of Stanford's analytical
To these objections some negative perceptions of certain sponsors would
normally have to be added. However, Terman's wartime reputation for
being friendly and helpful to sponsors and for holding meetings at which
information was exchanged on an equal footing overcame them.
Stanford had traditionally followed an appointment procedure
whereby each department or area was assigned a fraction of the funds
available, and the final decision was made by the department. It was
necessary for Terman to circumvent this tradition, which he did by
pointing out that if outside financial help could be found for one half
of an individual's time, the fraction to be borne by the department
would permit two appointments instead of one for the same total amount.
By this and other means Terman built up electrical engineering and then
the rest of the School of Engineering.
Terman perceived that from the university's point of view a number of
useful ends could be served by continuing work for the U.S. government
after V-J Day. Of course, strictly military research was expected to
taper off postwar to some extent, and it did, but never to the vanishing
point. Successful wartime development of the atom bomb conferred great
prestige on physicists and on academic research generally. Prior to the
war, such research had a reputation for producing results that were
interesting but for the most part impractical. The war had shown clearly
how academic and government scientists could work together to produce
useful, tangible results in a timely fashion. Aided by low-cost air
travel, postwar inter-institutional cooperation produced excellent
From the sponsor's point of view, to be responsible for an important
research program was a great feather in the cap. Provided that the work
outcome was successful, the more costly the research the greater the
From the individual faculty member's point of view, government
sponsorship conferred many advantages, not the least of which was
independence. From the university admissions point of view, it meant
that offers could be made to more and better faculty. A given department
budget could be stretched to an extent otherwise infeasible.
However, from the standpoint of the university administrator, direct
support of the individual faculty member could be a disadvantage,
particularly when the objectives of the faculty member did not coincide
with those of the administration. On balance, however, outside support
was advantageous in that it could be used to raise the quality of the
faculty, thereby making a given department more attractive from the
standpoint of all concerned.
Terman can be said to have made major contributions in many directions
during his lifetime. His contributions to the state of the electronic
arts were a consequence of his textbooks in which he clarified his
subject to the point where many readers, who might not otherwise have
done so, were encouraged to take up and use electronic devices in their
work. His books were translated into a number of foreign languages. This
took place even in the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War.
- The circle diagram of a transmission network. Trans.
Am. Inst. Elect. Eng. 45:1081-92.
- The inverted vacuum tube, a voltage reducing power
amplifier. Proc. Inst. Rad. Eng. 16:447-61.
- With B. Dysart. Detection characteristics of
screen-grid and space charge-grid tubes. Proc. Inst. Rad. Eng.
- With D. E. Chambers and E. H. Fisher. Harmonic
generation by means of grid-circuit distortion. Trans. Am. Inst.
Elect. Eng. 50:811-16.
- Radio Engineering. New York: McGraw-Hill.
- Resistance stabilized oscillators. Electronics
- With J. H. Ferns. A calculation of class C
amplifier and harmonic generator performance of screen grid and
similar tubes. Proc. Inst. Rad. Eng. 22:359-73.
- Measurements in Radio Engineering. New York:
- With W. C. Roake. Calculations and design of class
C amplifiers. Proc. Inst. Rad. Eng. 24:620-32.
- Feed-back amplifiers. Electronics 10:12-15,
- With W.-Y. Pan. Frequency response characteristics
of amplifiers employing negative feedback. Communications
- With R. R. Buss, W. R. Hewlett, and F. C. Cahill.
Some applications of negative feedback, with particular reference to
laboratory equipment. Proc. Inst. Rad. Eng. 27:649-55.
- With W. R. Hewlett, C. W. Palmer, and W.-Y. Pan.
Calculation and design of resistance-coupled amplifiers using
pentodes. Trans. Am. Inst. Elect. Eng. 59:879-84, 1133.
- Radio Engineers' Handbook. New York:
- Network theory, filters, and equalizers. Proc.
Inst. Rad. Eng. 31:164-75, 233-40, 288-302, 582, 656.
- Fundamental research in university and college
laboratories and its contribution to industrial research and
development. In Proceedings of the First Annual Northern
California Research Conference, pp. 34-37. Sponsored by the San
Francisco Chamber of Commerce, University of California, Stanford
Research Institute, and Stanford University.
- New times bring new problems. J. Eng. Ed.
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