I took my son to the Dickens Fair near San Francisco last weekend. We dressed up in our favorite Victorian garb—my son looked like he stepped right out of a Dickens novel. People thought he really worked there, especially when they heard his shockingly good accent! In preparation for the event, I pulled out my old copy of his A Christmas Carol and decided that it was time for my almost-fifteen-year-old to have read it, so I sat him down (without his phone to distract him), and we started reading. Re-tellings of the story are overdone. But here it is, again, for the EDA world. Please forgive my indulgence and any forced metaphors! Or, as Charles Dickens himself said: I have endeavored in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of and Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it. Their faithful Friend and Servant, —C.D. [or, in this case, M.C.] Stave I: Moore’s Ghost Moore’s Law was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of its burial was signed by the academics, the entrepreneurs, the industry, and the chief mourners. Old Moore’s Law was dead as a door-nail. Ben Easer, CEO of Skrooj, Inc, knew it was dead. But silicon was needed regardless of whether it was dead or not, and so Ben continued, using tools that may or may not have worked together, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, running inefficient placing-and-routing, requiring re-spins at every turn. Excessive work had little influence on Ben, as he had no qualms about making his underlings, Mary and Bob Cratchit work late into the night. In this way, Ben Easer plied his expertise, one night in the depths of December. It was cold, bleak, wet weather, even for California. His fitness tracker had just struck three (reminding him to stretch and walk about the office to increase his steps for the day) and the Cratchits were busily working at their computers on attempting to verify the signal integrity of a design, and the door to the office opened. “Happy holidays, Ben! Up to IC design again, are you? Not enjoying any kind of company shut-down, this time of year?” came a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Fred, his friendly neighborhood Cadence application engineer (AE), who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!” said Ben. “Humbug!” The Cadence AE had been out in the wind and rain, but because he had gotten all of his steps for the day that he was all aglow; his face was ruddy and his eyes sparkled. “IC design a humbug, Ben?” said Fred. “Surely you don’t mean that?” “I do,” said Ben. “Company shutdown? What right have you to tell me to shut down? You work hard enough on your own to never take a shutdown.” “Come, then,” returned the AE. “What right have you to work so hard? There are tools that can do that work, you know, and save you so much time.” Ben, having no better answer ready on the tip of his tongue, said, “Bah!” again; and followed it up with, “Humbug.” “Don’t be difficult, Ben,” said Fred. “What else can I be,” returned Ben, “when I live in such a world of fools as this? Company shutdown? Out upon happy holidays! What’s the holidays to you but a time for getting behind in your designs, inching closer and closer to a tapeout deadline, with no end to the redesigns?” he snapped his laptop closed for effect. “You keep the holidays in your way, and let me keep it in mine.” “There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have profited, I dare say,” returned the AE. “Holidays among the rest. And with our tools that share the burdens of design, placement, timing, and the rest, I have been able to take a quiet rest at the end of the year. Let me help you with your designs, and ease the burdens on yourself and your employees.” Bob and Mary Cratchit both involuntarily applauded, and with a scowl from Ben, both hurried back to their laptops, quietly conferring over the meager light of their laptops. “You’re quite a powerful speaker. I wonder you don’t go into politics. I hear the current president is hiring.” “Ha ha. Don’t be angry, Ben. Come! Let’s get coffee tomorrow. I can show you some of the things we can do for you, so you can take a holiday break.” Ben said that he would see him—yes indeed he did. He went the entire length of the expression and said that he would see him when hell froze over. “Good afternoon,” snapped Ben, and looked at his fitness tracker. “I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, at least that I know of. But I have made the trial in homage to the holiday, and I’ll keep my humor to the last. So happy holidays, Ben!” “Good afternoon,” said Ben. “And a happy new year!” “Good afternoon!” said Ben. Fred, the Cadence AE left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He gave his best to the hardworking Cratchits and swept out the door. “Moore’s Law is dead,” snapped Ben, muttering to himself. “We don’t need new engineers. We don’t need new tools. We just need to make do with whatever tools we have now. There is no innovation to be made, from here on out.” Mumbling noncommittally, each of the Cratchits looked at each other and stammered, “Well, sir, we…” “Nevermind,” interrupted Ben. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to take all day off tomorrow, will you?” with a snarl of ill-will. “If it would be convenient, sir, yes…” “…we do have things to attend to for the holidays…” “…and we have set this signal integrity check to run, and it should take at least 36 hours to complete…” “It’s not convenient, and it’s not fair. If I were to insist that you come in tomorrow afternoon when it’s done, you’d think it unfair?” “Nobody said life was f…” said Bob, before Mary kicked him under the table. “And yet,” said Ben, "you don’t think me ill-used, when I pay a day’s wages for you sitting around, waiting for the simulation to complete, drinking my coffee and using my internet, watching YouTube while you wait.” Mary said, “Well, it is only once in a… um… design cycle.” “A poor excuse for picking my pocket!” Ben snapped, zipping his raincoat up to his chin. “Be here all the earlier the next day!” Bob and Mary promised they would, quickly checked their code into github, and shut down their laptops. They laughed excitedly as they exited the office, and suggested to each other that they grab a pumpkin spice latte on their way home, where they had something extra special cooking up. Lugging his old laptop in a frayed messenger bag, Ben Easer walked home, stopping only once to pick up taco or two from the corner taco truck. ...to be continued...![]()
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