When I introduce myself at a party, I say I’m an engineer.
When I die, I’d like my gravestone to read "engineer." Perhaps more, but at least that.
An engineer is a great identity to assume. It’s the identity of a builder and a fixer. A problem solver. Someone who makes the world a better place, in ways we didn’t know could be better. We often talk of how magical and world-changing inventions are. The invention of the light bulb. The printing press. The car and the internet.
It’s engineers who create the tools for leverage, so everyone else can be more than just their human bodies allow. Regardless of whether the computer is the bicycle of the mind, both the bicycle and the computer were created by engineers. Cars let people speed, and planes let people fly. Computers accelerate thinking, while your stove cooks your food and your AC keeps you cool. From the big to the invisible, our world was built by engineers before us and will continue to be built by engineers ahead of us.
I love all these inventions and more - and I have respect for the inventors behind them. The engineers who brought them into being. The folks who bent over a table, thinking through the fundamentals of the universe and ideated what was possible. And then took those ideas, manifested them into existence, broke them, and tried all again.
There’s a pleasant humility that comes with being an engineer. The titles are understated, the salaries high-but-fair, and often a culture of utility over status. They often don’t aspire to dominate colleagues - great engineers tend to dislike management. Most engineers I know don’t wear expensive clothing, and if they have a fancy watch, it’s surely in part because the complicated internals remind them of good mechanical craft.
A good engineer cares more about interesting problems than money. They’re hungry for smart people to spitball with, and for ambitious ventures to take on. A sad engineer is one working on problems they dont believe in, constrained in how they’re allowed to solve them, and surrounded by people they dont like. Give an engineer a good problem, agency, and smart, friendly peers - and you’ll find yourself a happy camper.
Engineers can be annoying. Pedantic. Not the most interesting chat at the party. Stuck reciting problems and fandoms you might not care about. Sometimes quiet, or worse, loud and lacking self-awareness. These occasional stereotypes are real, but not morally bad. Rather, they’re symptoms of a brain born to build. Obsessing over problems. Fixing on the world around them rather than on their place in it. Finding enthusiasm for curiosities others ignore. It’s the same selflessness and dog-eared resilience that makes them great at their jobs.
To be an engineer is to be a good thing. The role of an engineer is to find the levers that order the universe’s entropy, and to share those levers broadly. Not just a builder, but a giver - what engineer wouldn’t want their invention to be broadly used and loved?
Not everyone should become an engineer - what a chaotic place that would become. It’s not the only good profession in the world - we certainly need others. But it is a good one, and a rare one.
If you’re an engineer reading this, you might enjoy my ode. More likely, you have a line or two you disagree with and are excited to cite counterexamples of. Good job, you’re an engineer.
I’m grateful for you and all the engineers in the world - past, present, and future. My father is an engineer, and my sister is an engineer - and I’m happy to call myself just as well.