Engineering Professor Does Lighting, Too

Classes in Pierce, Sever and Vanserg Halls, while in the middle of a heated section debate or perhaps a snoozy lecture, are occasionally interrupted by sudden darkness.

The reason behind the unseasonal night-fall, annoyed section leaders may be happy to know, is not malfunctioning circuits but a Harvard engineering professor, Frederick H. Abernathy.

Abernathy, a specialist in fluid mechanics and robotics, is also a man on a mission: to preserve the earth's energy resources and save Harvard and other institutions millions of dollars through energy conservation.

According to colleagues, Abernathy, who is McKay Professor of Mechanical Engineering, has saved the University a lot of money. A big lot.

In fact, the amount stacks up to the kind of funds for which top administrators are schmoozing potential donors every day--McKay Professor of Environmental Engineering Peter P. Rogers estimates "many millions of dollars."

Lawrence Professor of Engineering Bernard Budiansky will venture only that the money saved is "not peanuts."

"It's a very substantial amount," he says.

The engineering department's marvel of money preservation is an almost stereotypical professorial type: Tall, white-haired and distinguished, casually dressed and perched in the standard messy office of an academic.

The scholarly specialty that earns him that office is, of course, not light switches and insulation.

"The breadth of his technical interests...started in fluid mechanics and branched over to manufacturing and robotics as well as energy," Budiansky says. He is now focusing on improving efficiency in retail clothing manufacturing.

Abernathy says he chose engineering because, growing up in Denver, his father managed a paper mill. The future professor became fascinated with the workings of the mill's complicated machines, and he never looked back.

English, history and government had no appeal: "I wanted to learn about fluid mechanics," Abernathy says.

After college and a brief stint at the Oak Ridge School of Reactor Technology, he headed directly for Harvard and has spent little time away since. After a 1953 Ph.D., and a few years spent with the Federal government--unsurprisingly, during an energy crisis--he returned to the University in 1958.

And the years in teaching have apparently paid off: students praise the professor as tough--engineering is not a concentration noted for its large offering of guts--but also humorous, accessible and interesting. One student calls him "an amiable fellow."

"[Engineering Sciences 125] was a very difficult class," says Eric T. Navales '95. "It was all about mechanical vibrations and it was fairly mathematically difficult but he was able to use everyday experiences to make it clear."

In fact, Abernathy took a class which consisted mainly of "a lot of boring math and difficult formulas," according to John S. Burkhart '95, and used stories and examples to make his points clear.

Several students interviewed, for instance, remember Abernathy's graphic illustration of the natural frequency of a body: the John Hancock building, which swayed in the wind and dropped windows on those below until a huge oil tank was placed on its top floor to change its frequency.

Still, students occasionally wish that Abernathy would--or could--make the material a bit less dry or ease up a little on the intensity level in his course.

They are unlikely to get what they want: Abernathy has no plans to let Engineering become a refuge for academic slackers.

"I push my students very hard because in applied sciences, you have to know how to do the problems and the problem sets," Abernathy says. "No one becomes a great tennis player by watching movies on how to play tennis."

However, while research interests and pedagogical duties occupy much of his time, Abernathy still finds hours for his role as Harvard's--or fiscally conservative Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles'--secret weapon in the energy wars.

His interest in energy conservation began in the early 1960s. Pierce Hall, the Engineering Department's building, operates on a separate endowment and must pay for its own heat, lighting and electricity.

The building, and the department, were far into the red, and Abernathy "thought I would help them solve the financial problem by relieving excessive energy use."

Thus began a crusade of epic proportions. The mysteriously unpredictable lights in Sever and other buildings are only one small aspect of Abernathy's efforts.

Those lights are programmed to shut off an hour and a half after they are turned on so that no unnecessary energy is wasted, Abernathy says.

The timers, however, are no longer adequate for Abernathy's ongoing quest for true energy efficiency. They will soon be replaced by infrared motion detectors that sense motion and body warmth, and Abernathy hopes that all buildings in the Faculty of Arts and Sciences will have these detectors soon.

He also hopes to replace Harvard's incandescent bulbs with flourescent lighting. Flourescent bulbs give off the same amount of light as incandescent ones but cost less money and last eight times longer, Abernathy says.

His efforts have not been wasted. The Science Center and the newly remodeled Thayer Hall have only flourescent lights with the exception of the Greenhouse Cafe area.

The professor has also taken his mission to conserve past the bounds of Harvard.

He is pushing manufacturers of the ubiquitous halogen lamps to switch their production to a more efficient form of lighting, and he has spoken to the Coop about selling a more efficient lamp to students.

Abernathy is not finished, either. There are more watts to conserve, and more dollars to save.

His goals include installing fiberglass windows to minimize heat loss, reducing inefficient use of steam, converting the Chemistry building to use chilled water from the central line and "teaching Harvard students, faculty and staff to be wise energy consumers."

If all these projects were implemented, the Faculty of Arts and Sciences could save an additional million dollars a year. He estimates that over the last 20 years, FAS has saved $5 million per year through his innovations.

And there is one final project Abernathy would like to see become reality, but no date has yet been set.

The office of President Neil L. Rudenstine still has incandescent lights, rather than flourescent ones, he notes.

"I have an advantage as a faculty member," he adds. "I can say things and not get fired."

Abnerathy at a Glance

A specialist in fluid mechanics, McKay Professor of Engineering

Abernathy teaches Engineering Science 125--no gut, students say.

A Denver native, he entered engineering because of his interest in the workings of the paper mill where his father worked.

And he is the man behind many of Harvard's small efficiency miracles, notably the on-again, off-again lights of Sever, Vanserg and Pierce Halls.