During my education at engineering school, I always considered myself sort of a scientist. I suppose that I’ve always assumed that engineers and scientists are somewhat interchangeable ... probably due to the fact that both groups seem interested in how things work and that neither would seem out of place at a Trekkie convention. Beyond that, I’ve never worked directly with scientists, and so have never dwelled on the differences between the disciplines.

I have been reading The Titans of Saturn, an account of the lessons learned in building and sending the Cassini-Huygens space probe to Saturn and its largest moon, Titan. One of the eye-opening things for me is the diametrically opposed views of the engineers and scientists described in the book.
Engineers on the project were described as having a more linear drive toward mastery and perfection. The scientists had a more circular pattern of investigation, rejoicing in the fact that they knew very little and had many questions. Engineers were concerned with the means, while scientists worried more about the ends. The engineers’ job ends when the craft finally orbits Saturn — just when the scientists’ real jobs begin. Basically, each group felt that working with the other group was a burden.

Obviously, these two different groups were diametrically opposed in many ways. Yet, they learned to work together and listen. Eventually, the engineers and scientists began to listen, instead of simply hearing. This helped them figure out what the others were really saying, or what concerns hid behind statements like, “That’s not in the requirements” or “It’s too risky.” By opening dialogues about issues important to different sides, these two groups were ultimately successful in getting the spacecraft through both Earthbound and post-launch hurdles.

There is also a parallel lesson in Titans that struck me. This was a joint mission between the U.S-based Jet Propulsion Laboratory and the European Space Agency. As such, the U.S. technical staff had to work with European counterparts as never before. And the Europeans taught the Americans an interesting lesson. Instead of treating diversity as a problem to be swept under the proverbial rug, they delighted in it. They good-naturedly teased each other about their nationalities and cultural differences. At the same time, they realized that they were in this fight together, and they could only achieve their objectives together. If the Italians were the best at radio science or the Russians excelled at rocketry, why not let those teams take the lead?

I guess what I’m taking away from the book is that we need to be a little more flexible, we need to be better listeners, and we need to know when to defer to someone else’s expertise. These are good lessons, whether dealing with engineers or scientists — in everything from system design to rocket science.

Here's a link to an interesting related article by an IBM director. He discusses how to bridge the distance between engineers and scientists by combining the tactical/the how with the strategic/the what.

Check it out:

Bridging the Chasm Between Strategy and Execution