How Shrinking Feature Size Made Modern Wireless Work

If you’re living your life right, you probably know what as MOSFET is. But do you know the MESFET? They are like the faster, uninsulated, Schottky version of a MOSFET, and they used to rule the roost in radio-frequency (RF) silicon. But if you’re like us, and you have never heard of a MESFET, then give this phenomenal video by [Asianometry] a watch. In it, among other things, he explains how the shrinking feature size in CMOS made RF chips cheap, which brought you the modern cellphone as we know it.

The basic overview is that in the 1960s, most high-frequency stuff had to be done with discrete parts because the bipolar-junction semiconductors of the time were just too slow. At this time, MOSFETs were just becoming manufacturable, but were even slower still. The MESFET, without its insulating oxide layer between the metal and the silicon, had less capacitance, and switched faster. When silicon feature sizes got small enough that you could do gigahertz work with them, the MESFET was the tech of choice.

As late as the 1980s, you’d find MESFETs in radio devices. At this time, the feature size of the gates and the thickness of the oxide layer in MOSFETs kept them out of the game. But as CPU manufacturers pushed CMOS theses features smaller, not only did we get chips like the 8086 and 80386, two of Intel’s earliest CMOS designs, but the tech started getting fast enough for RF. And the world never looked back.

If you’re interested in the history of the modern monolithic RF ICs, definitely give the 18-minute video a watch. (You can skip the first three or so if you’re already a radio head.) If you just want to build some radio circuits, this fantastic talk from [Michael Ossmann] at the first-ever Supercon will make you an RF design hero. His secrets? Among them, making the most of exactly these modern everything-in-one-chip RF ICs so that you don’t have to think about that side of things too hard.

Thanks [Stephen] for the tip!

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Networking History Lessons

Do they teach networking history classes yet? Or is it still too soon?

I was reading [Al]’s first installment of the Forgotten Internet series, on UUCP. The short summary is that it was a system for sending files across computers that were connected, intermittently, by point-to-point phone lines. Each computer knew the phone numbers of a few others, but none of them had anything like a global routing map, and IP addresses were still in the future. Still, it enabled file transfer and even limited remote access across the globe. And while some files contained computer programs, others files contained more human messages, which makes UUCP also a precursor to e-mail.

What struck me is how intuitively many of this system’s natural conditions and limitations lead to the way we network today. From phone numbers came the need for IP addresses. And from the annoyance of having know how the computers were connected, and to use the bang notation to route a message from one computer to another through intermediaries, would come our modern routing protocols, simply because computer nerds like to automate hassles wherever possible.

But back to networking history. I guess I learned my networking on the mean streets, by running my own Linux system, and web servers, and mail servers. I knew enough networking to get by, but that mostly focused on the current-day application, and my beard is not quite grey enough to have been around for the UUCP era. So I’m only realizing now that knowing how the system evolved over time helps a lot in understanding why it is the way it is, and thus how it functions. I had a bit of a “eureka” moment reading about UUCP.

In physics or any other science, you learn not just the status quo in the field, but also how it developed over the centuries. It’s important to know something about the theory of the aether to know what special relativity was up against, for instance, or the various historical models of the atom, to see how they inform modern chemistry and physics. But these are old sciences with a lot of obsolete theories. Is computer science old enough that they teach networking history? They should!

Forgotten Internet: UUCP

What’s Forgotten Internet? It is the story of parts of the Internet — or Internet precursors — that you might have forgotten about or maybe you missed out on them. This time, we’re looking at Unix-to-Unix Copy, more commonly called UUCP. Developed in the late 1970s, UUCP was a solution for sending messages between systems that were not always connected together. It could also allow remote users to execute commands. By 1979, it was part of the 7th Edition of Unix.

Ken Thompson and Dennis Ritchie may have used UUCP on a PDP-11 like this one. (Photo via Computer History Museum/Gwen Bell)

Operation was simple. Each computer in a UUCP network had a list of neighbor systems. Don’t forget, they weren’t connected, so instead of an IP address, each system had the other’s phone number to connect to a dial up modem. You also needed a login name and password. Almost certainly, by the way, those modems operated at 300 baud or less.

If a computer could dial out, when someone wanted to send something or do a remote execution, the UUCP system would call a neighboring computer. However, some systems couldn’t dial out, so it was also possible for a neighbor to call in and poll to see if there was anything you needed to do. Files would go from one system to another using a variety of protocols.

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Tech In Plain Sight: Incandescent Bulbs

While they are dying out, you can still find incandescent bulbs. While these were once totally common, they’ve been largely replaced by LEDs and other lighting technology. However, you still see a number of them in special applications or older gear. If you are above a certain age, you might be surprised that youngsters may have never seen a standard incandescent lightbulb. Even so, the new bulbs are compatible with the old ones, so — mechanically, at least — the bulbs don’t look different on the outside.

You might have learned in school that Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, but the truth is much stranger (public domain)

It has been known for a long time that passing a current through a wire creates a glow. The problem is, the wire — the filament — would burn up quickly. The answer would be a combination of the right filament material and using an evacuated bulb to prevent the filament degrading. But it took over a century to get a commercially successful lightbulb.

We were all taught in school that Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, but the truth is much more complicated. You can go back to 1761 when Ebenezer Kinnersley first caused a wire to glow. Of course, wires would quickly burn up in the air. By the early 19th century, limelight was fairly common in theaters. Limelight — also known as the Drummond light — heated a piece of calcium oxide using a gas torch — not electric, but technically incandescence. Ships at sea and forts in the U.S. Civil War used limelights to illuminate targets and, supposedly, to blind enemy troops at night. Check out the video below to see what a limelight looks like.

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Your Undocumented Project May Also Baffle People Someday

What’s life without a little mystery? There’s one less rolling around after historians finally identified a donated mystery machine that had been in storage for years.

Feeding dough through this machine may have been faster, but probably not safer.

The main pieces of the machine are about a century old and any staff who may have known more about the undocumented device were no longer around to ask. The historical society finally posted pictures and asked for any insights, which eventually led to solving the mystery.

The machine is in all likelihood a beaten biscuit maker, which was a type of dense baked good popular in the American south. Making them called for a long and labor-intensive process of pounding and working the dough, and the society says this machine was likely created by a fellow trying to help his aunt streamline her business, offloading the labor of working the dough to a machine.

The machine had no branding of any sort and lacked any identifying marks. Its purpose was doubtlessly obvious at the time, but no records remained and quite possibly none existed in the first place. Sound familiar? Perhaps someday our own undocumented projects and prototypes will mystify people. It’s certainly happened in the case of mysterious Roman dodecahedrons, which remain a head-scratching mystery.

Historical map of The Netherlands overlayed with clouds

Hacking Global Positioning Systems Onto 16th-Century Maps

What if GPS had existed in 1565? No satellites or microelectronics, sure—but let’s play along. Imagine the bustling streets of Antwerp, where merchants navigated the sprawling city with woodcut maps. Or sailors plotting Atlantic crossings with accuracy unheard of for the time. This whimsical intersection of history and tech was recently featured in a blog post by [Jan Adriaenssens], and comes alive with Bert Spaan’s Allmaps Here: a delightful web app that overlays your GPS location onto georeferenced historical maps.

Take Antwerp’s 1565 city map by Virgilius Bononiensis, a massive 120×265 cm woodcut. With Allmaps Here, you’re a pink dot navigating this masterpiece. Plantin-Moretus Museum? Nailed it. Kasteelpleinstraat? A shadow of the old citadel it bordered. Let’s not forget how life might’ve been back then. A merchant could’ve avoided morning traffic and collapsing bridges en route to the market, while a farmer relocating his herd could’ve found fertile pastures minus the swamp detour.

Unlike today’s turn-by-turn navigation, a 16th-century GPS might have been all about survival: avoiding bandit-prone roads, timing tides for river crossings, or tracking stars as backup. Imagine explorers fine-tuning their Atlantic crossings with trade winds mapped to the mile. Georeferenced maps like these let us re-imagine the practical genius of our ancestors while enjoying a modern hack on a centuries-old problem.

Although sites like OldMapsOnline, Google Earth Timelapse (and for the Dutch: TopoTijdreis) have been around for a while, this new match of technology and historical detail is a true gem. Curious to map your own world on antique charts? Navigate to Allmaps and start georeferencing!

On The Nature Of Electricity: Recreating The Early Experiments

Bits of material levitating against gravity, a stream of water deflected by invisible means, sparks of light appearing out of thin air; with observations like those, it’s a wonder that the early experiments into the nature of electricity progressed beyond the catch-all explanation of magic. And yet they did, but not without a lot of lamb’s bladders and sulfur globes, and not a little hand waving in the process. And urine — lots and lots of urine.

Looking into these early electrical experiments and recreating them is the unlikely space [Sam Gallagher] has staked out with the “Experimental History of Electricity,” a growing playlist on his criminally undersubscribed YouTube channel. The video linked below is his latest, describing the apparatus one Francis Hauksbee used to generate static electric charges for his early 18th-century experiments. Hauksbee’s name is nowhere near as well-known as that of Otto von Guericke or William Gilbert, who in the two centuries before Hauksbee conducted their own experiments and who both make appearances in the series. But Hauksbee’s machine, a rotating glass globe charged by the lightest touch of a leather pad, which [Sam] does a fantastic job recreating as closely as possible using period-correct materials and methods, allowed him to explore the nature of electricity in much greater depth than his predecessors.

But what about the urine? As with many of the experiments at the time, alchemists used what they had to create the reagents they needed, and it turned out that urine was a dandy source of phosphorous, which gave off a brilliant light when sufficiently heated. The faint light given off by mercury when shaken in the vacuum within a barometer seemed similar enough that it became known as the “mercurial phosphor” that likely inspired Hauksbee’s electrical experiments, which when coupled with a vacuum apparatus nearly led to the invention of the mercury discharge lamp, nearly 200 years early. The more you know. Continue reading “On The Nature Of Electricity: Recreating The Early Experiments”