Product Testing
Bernard Wilcox had not expected the twilight of his career to look like this. For thirty years he had been a man of tools—respectable tools. He was tall but going soft around the middle, with thinning brown hair that refused to lie flat and a permanent frown line carved above his spectacles. Colleagues called him “Old Torque,” partly for his obsession with correct ratios, partly because he gripped clipboards as if they were lifebuoys. He thought of himself as steady, reliable, faintly dull—qualities he assumed Stamford & Sons prized. But the company directors had other ideas. "The power tool market has plateaued," the chairman declared that grim Monday, his double chin settling comfortably on his waistcoat. "The pandemic has left people isolated, desperate for... connection." He paused, fingers forming a steeple. "Adapt or die, gentlemen. The future lies in what we're calling 'personal lifestyle enhancement devices.'" Silence smothered the ...