Our controlled reaction rate mixing and curing vessel was an established product, which had gone through many revisions. To keep costs and weight down on the 3-foot-high unit it was made mostly of sturdy industrial plastic, but with some complex digital controls powered by 110 Vac. Our engineers knew certification tests well, so approval from the testing labs for the latest round of minor customer-requested improvements was assured. And for the first time we didn't have to do the paperwork, as it had now been handed over to the newly-established Global Quality department.

Testing schedules were tight, but ample as it always passed the first time. So you can imagine our astonishment when a noticeably provoked call came from the VP of Engineering telling us for the first time in 12 years it had failed the tests.

We rushed over to the shipping dock to inspect the returned unit and couldn't believe our eyes. There was nothing left but a big blob. It looked like a complete, Pizza-the-Hut style meltdown, little lights and switches poking out from the gray plastic mozzarella like pepperoni. Even the hi-temp ball valves were contorted and heat-welded into the plastic case. All we could think was some major transformer failure.

The explanation was actually simpler. A marketing whiz-kid had consorted with a new-hire liberal arts Global Quality wonk. They looked inside the unit and, seeing nothing flammable, had decided that 'fire-resistant' would be a dandy additional marketing feature. So they checked that box on the required tests. The agreeable, ever-cooperative UL Labs had cheerfully baked it at 1,200 degrees for 4 hours in their testing oven, after which it didn't work all that well.

Wilbur K., Tuscaloosa,