TRANSFERRING technology from lab bench to production line is something that
universities in Australia and New Zealand have found difficult to do.
American-born Jim Scott, who has more than ten years鈥 experience working with
Japanese companies, reckons he at least part of the solution. 鈥淏ring engineers
into your lab and have them work shoulder to shoulder with your people,鈥 he
advises. Scott, who is now at the University of New South Wales, is trying to do
just that in Australia.
The interaction of scientist and corporate engineer worked for well for Scott
at the University of Colorado, where he was a professor of physics from 1972 to
1992. When Japanese firms Olympus Optical and Matsushita Electric wanted to
license technology developed by Scott and his colleagues at the university, he
insisted that as part of the deal they send up to four of their best engineers
to work in the laboratory for at least 18 months. 鈥淭hey sent very good people,鈥
Scott said. The outcome of this collaboration included high-gain, low noise
amplifiers that Matsushita is mass producing for use in its mobile phones.
In Australia, Scott has been attempting to replicate this success with Sony.
He began by inviting Hajime Yagi, a senior R&D manager with Sony, for a
week鈥檚 visit. That was in July last year. Yagi reciprocated by inviting Scott to
Japan. From January to March of this year, Scott held the Visiting Chair of
Science at Sony鈥檚 Central Research Laboratories in Yokohama.
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While in Japan, Scott signed an agreement with Sony under which the company
will send one postdoctoral scientist or engineer a year to work in his lab at
the UNSW. The first postdoc, Koiji Watanabe, is due to arrive in September.
Besides funding Watanabe and his successors, the company will chip in about
$30 000 for research. 鈥淭his is to get things started,鈥 Scott says,
鈥淭hey鈥檙e looking to do something bigger later on.鈥
Sony wants to learn more about Scott鈥檚 speciality, a promising class of
ceramic materials called ferroelectrics. The company hopes to develop a new
generation of Walkman personal stereos that will store music on ferroelectric
memory chips in place of cumbersome tapes or discs.
Scott first came to Australia in 1986, while working as a consultant for
Ramtron, a start-up company formed to make ferroelectric chips. Ramtron was
largely funded by Australian venture capital and Scott visited the Royal
Melbourne Institute of Technology to investigate the possibility of the
institute doing some prototype fabrication for the company. Scott returned six
years later to become dean of applied science at the RMIT. In 1994 he moved to
the UNSW, where, until a recent restructuring, he served as dean of the science
faculty. He is now a professor of physics. Along the way, Scott and his family
have become Australian citizens.
His work is gaining international attention. This month he leaves for Germany
for six months as part of a $100 000 Humboldt Prize. Scott will take up
the prize at the Max Planck Institute in Halle.
Scott believes that Australian universities are well equipped to provide
industrial partners with intellectual property. Japanese corporations, which find
it hard to hook up with professors in their own country, offer an opportunity
for such collaborations. Academics at Japan鈥檚 national universities are regarded
as public servants. They are barred therefore from earning extra income by doing
consultancy work.
No such limits apply to Australian academics, but Scott has encountered
cultural barriers. 鈥淪ome professors think that when you enter a university it鈥檚
like entering a convent鈥攜ou take a vow of poverty and obedience,鈥 he says.
鈥淚t鈥檚 not true. Professors are allowed to get rich.鈥
The UNSW, according to Scott, is leading by example. The university has
managed to spin off successful high-tech start-ups like Pacific Solar and
Memtech.
Elsewhere, with a few exceptions, efforts to transfer technology have been
disappointing, he says. Almost all of Australia鈥檚 37 universities have a
division handling and marketing intellectual property. Scott estimates that
perhaps three of them actually make a profit. These divisions, he says, may run
up hundreds of thousands of dollars in patent filing fees. But the result at the
end of the year may be a few hundred dollars in royalties. 鈥淯niversities do this
for much the same reason they publish books or have their own university
press鈥攖hey feel there鈥檚 a moral obligation to do it,鈥 Scott says.
The problem is not that academics don鈥檛 disclose inventions. On the contrary,
according to Scott, the problem is that too many inventions are touted with most
of them having little chance of success. 鈥淧hysicists like myself are the worst
offenders,鈥 he says. All too often they think their way is best and have no idea
if alternative solutions on the market are cheaper, better and faster.
But even when academics do come up with a new technology of interest to
industry, they have little idea of how to interact with the buyer. 鈥淭ypically in
Australia you try to get money from some industry, then you send them quarterly
reports of what you did with their money,鈥 he says. Such an arms-length approach
is inefficient, according to Scott. 鈥淵ou really need to exchange personnel.鈥
The link between Sony and the UNSW is an example of what can be
achieved. For years, Sony has sent engineers and scientists to US universities.
鈥淭o have them recognise that they could do similar quality work here is a
breakthrough,鈥 says Scott. Until this initiative, Sony was actually pulling
research out of Australia. Five years ago, the company shut down a software
development group it had been running out of its Sydney office. Sony officials
told Scott that the Australian government did nothing to encourage the company
to expand its local activities, nor was it approached by any universities. Now,
thanks in part to Scott, the tide has begun to turn.