This was an article review I submitted for the seminar course Technology, Economy and Society (Technik, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft) at the Technical University of Munich during Summer Semester 2023 (SS23). I enjoyed writing this review because I found many parallels between the fast-paced, wartime and postwar-time design culture of the US and the general startup culture today. Throughout his article, Scranton often mentions being at "the bottom" -- the space in which you are truly designing something new. It can be chaotic there, and indeed people do not tend to enjoy being there for very long. But it made me realize: foundations are built from the bottom -- It's therefore important we find ways to spend more time there. My favourite part was writing the final rejoinder: "If anything, Scranton’s exploration of the so-called ‘bottom’ – the chaotic, failure-ridden, often frustrating operating layer of scientific endeavour should instil humility and flexibility in managers and innovators. The uncertainty that is inherent when pushing on a boundary of human knowledge means that linear planning will, at some point, inevitably falter. The real question is how we set up the conditions necessary for persevering through manifold failures with _organizational_ attitudes of openness to experimentation and change. How do we make it easier for people to spend time at ‘the bottom’?" This is a question I am still pondering. ---- Philip Scranton (2006), **Urgency, uncertainty, and innovation: Building jet engines in postwar America**, Management & Organizational History, 1:2, 127-157, DOI: 10.1177/1744935906064096 This highly engaging case study by the historian Philip Scranton chronicles the development and design of jet engines in the United States after World War II. Set against the backdrop of a post-war world where supremacy in the air was rapidly becoming a defining factor in global geopolitics, Scranton uses archival material to illustrate the intense and chaotic nature of the project. By highlighting the cost-overruns, design setbacks, and in-fighting between the involved parties, Scranton debunks the public perception of the time -- that jet engine development was a predictable advancement of wartime hardware. In so doing, he challenges us to rethink the prevailing myth that generalized technological progress is an orderly process. In wartime scenarios, achievements from military research and development are often publicized without making any mention of the failures along the way. This creates a public perception of technical advancement as something orderly, well-planned and in some sense even predictable. Contrary to this narrative, Scranton reveals that the progress in jet engine development was often extremely difficult, and the advancements made in their development was anything but predictable. In fact, it was an endeavor beset with unknowns and driven forward through empirical problem-solving, flexibility, and determination in the face of chronic setbacks. Scranton highlights this distinction for us by meticulously detailing the ‘conflict-filled, failure-prone, non-linear, non-rational, [in some ways] even non-cumulative’ nature of the development cycle, referring to this chaotic underbelly of operations as ‘the bottom’ (p. 129). This exploration of ‘the bottom’ as a place that defies our assumptions around linear and orderly progress, has important implications for how we think about the nature of technology, especially in cases of massive competition or where innovation is a defining feature. One significant way Scranton elucidates this non-linear nature is by exploring the constant need for design overhauls during the development process. In one example, he outlines how engine advancements often led to new challenges, demanding a shift in the engine materials used. For instance, increased power requirements resulted in higher operating temperatures, necessitating the adoption of stronger alloys that could resist the heat.  But the usage of a new alloy meant that all the learnings on the previously used alloy became redundant, leading to a recurring ‘knowledge reset’. In Scranton’s words, ‘At every shift-point, much of what had been painfully learned about materials is devalued’ (p.131). Scranton doesn’t neglect to capture the emotional impact of dealing with such uncertainty, blending in first-hand accounts of the emotional and intellectual challenges for the workers involved. Lacking the theoretical guidance to predict outcomes, they were often in uncharted territory, commenting: “Neither scientific knowledge, nor theory…could lead metallurgists to solutions for the heat and stress hazards of jet propulsion. They had neither tools for assessment and comparison, nor basic principles which could predict the outcome.” (p. 134). Beyond exposing the development and testing process as non-linear, the work also shows us how political problems in the organizational structure in many respects mirrored the chaos in the designs. Jet engines, being composed of some 8000 parts or more, required the intersection and cooperation of multiple governmental agencies, private military contractors, research labs and external consultants, notably the US Armed Forces (Air Force and Navy), working with engine builders in what later would become known as the military-industrial complex. Scranton illustrates how disorder was endemic in this structure from top to bottom, inside and out: At the highest level, the armed forces struggled to communicate with the private firms; within each firm, internal battles raged on questions of how to proceed with each design. One level down, the abundance of different design decisions lead to a chaotic family tree of engine designs, with models being designated by model numbers, then sub-species, then subsystem variants and so on. As for the artifacts they were producing, the early designs for jet engines were notoriously unstable and were liable to burn out, stall, or otherwise break down. The article benefits from Scranton’s meticulous deep dive into the archival records from both military as well as the industrial firms, and then casts these stories into a compelling narrative that directly engages historians of technology and business, as well as people generally interested in processes of innovation. One shining example was Scranton’s inclusion of a letter from a US army general communicating his disappointment with the work of one of the industry firms, stating: “General Electric’s past performance…has been such as to discourage Air Force optimism toward _any_ new GE developments.” (p. 142). Given the military’s preference to not broadcast failures to the public, it is clear that this deep dive into archival material greatly strengthens the article: We simply could not have known these things otherwise. While the case study provides rich insights into the unpredictability and non-linearity of research and development processes, it stops short of drawing clear lessons or parallels for contemporary managers, leaders, or innovators. By offering explicit management frameworks or learnings based on the jet engine development experience, Scranton could have made his work even more relevant to the business strategy and organizational theory disciplines. Further, Scranton does not mention the opposite case that can occur in times of highly non-linear progress – that is, when research efforts _go unexpectedly well_ and behave like a step function. Including some commentary on this ‘flipped scenario’ would have made his analysis more well-rounded. That being said, the case study will resonate with a diverse audience. Readers who have been through technical projects where constant re-designs were needed and nothing seems to go as expected would find much to relate to. Beyond that, the article would also appeal to professionals in management, R&D, and innovation sectors. Overall, Scranton renders the story in a highly interesting way, and the technical descriptions are thoroughly well-researched. Although the implications on organizational and management theory are not laid out explicitly, Scranton has crafted a case study that paves the way to how we can theorize the process of innovating under uncertainty. If anything, Scranton’s exploration of the so-called ‘bottom’ – the chaotic, failure-ridden, often frustrating operating layer of scientific endeavour should instil humility and flexibility in managers and innovators. The uncertainty that is inherent when pushing on a boundary of human knowledge means that linear planning will, at some point, inevitably falter. The real question is how we set up the conditions necessary for persevering through manifold failures with _organizational_ attitudes of openness to experimentation and change. How do we make it easier for people to spend time at ‘the bottom’? Through its nuanced portrait of innovation under uncertainty, Scranton's account offers lessons in adaptability and resilience that still resonate in many of our ambitious technological pursuits today.