Release Announcement!

I'm happy to announce the release of Engineering Sovereignty Volume 1 in full-color paperback edition. You can read the back cover to get an idea of its content. To order, simply click on the cover image to go to the Amazon online store.

Instead of pitching my own sales, here's what Gemini says:

"Engineering Sovereignty" is a specialized concept heavily detailed by Singaporean engineer and self-published author Ng Keng Tiong. Known online and within the electronics industry through his blog, Ng uses the term to define how nations or organizations maintain technical self-reliance and operational continuity in an era of rapid obsolescence.

Core Pillars of Engineering Sovereignty

According to the author's framework, engineering sovereignty is not just about copying hardware (reverse engineering) or manufacturing parts; it is an overarching strategy to prevent foreign technology reliance and protect critical infrastructure:

• Beyond Reverse Engineering: It is an intentional pipeline to recapture missing institutional knowledge. When a manufacturer stops supporting a system, engineering sovereignty dictates that an organization must have the capability to map out the system internally.

• Advanced Digital Twins: It relies heavily on deep digital twins. In Ng's definition, a true digital twin doesn't just show a 3D model; it comprehensively catalogs the system's PCB layouts, electrical schematics, firmware code, behavioral simulations, and operational failure histories.

• Mitigating Supply Chain Obsolescence: This philosophy is thoroughly explored in his technical books like Solution to Obsolescence (STO). It serves as a defensive framework for keeping defense systems, industrial machinery, and critical grids alive when original manufacturing blueprints are lost or restricted.

As a Singaporean, the concept mirrors a broader geopolitical and defense discussions in my country's defense philosophy, where maintaining a "technological edge" indigenously has long been considered essential to national survival. This latest specialized literature bridges the island-nation's mindset with the tactical, nuts-and-bolts execution of electronic engineering and hardware diagnostics.

 

Beyond Maintenance

Maintenance, in its classic form, is a noble and necessary craft, concerned with restoring function. You replace a failed component, repair a broken assembly, and return a subsystem to service. These activities are the bedrock of operational engineering. However, they assume a world where replacements exist and repair is possible. We are increasingly confronting scenarios where this is simply not the case.

Documentation is incomplete or missing. The original manufacturer is unable—or unwilling—to help. The critical expertise, the tacit knowledge held in the minds of a generation of engineers, has walked out the door to retirement. In these circumstances, a different kind of response is required. You cannot intervene effectively without first understanding. The organization must do more than just fix the hardware; it must recover and internalize the knowledge upon which that hardware depends.

This is a profound philosophical shift. The engineer must evolve from being a mere maintainer of systems to something far more significant: a steward of the technological knowledge that underpins them. Maintenance is no longer simply about restoring function; it is about preserving and enriching the intellectual foundation that makes function possible in the first place.

 

Dear Reader

The following is an excerpt from the Preface of my memoir. I have named it Dear Reader to sound personal to those who may decide to pick up the book and read the story of my engineering journey. Here you go...

The book you hold in your hands began not as a book but as a series of moments—small decisions, unexpected turns, challenges faced and overcome. For much of my life, I did not think of my journey as remarkable. I was simply doing what needed to be done: learning my craft, supporting my family, solving the problems that landed on my workbench.

It was only later, after thirty years in the engineering trenches, after I had written six technical books and begun to reflect on the path that brought me there, that I realized my story might have value beyond the circuits and schematics.

This is a book about electronics. But it is also a book about life. The two, I have come to understand, are not so different.

A circuit is a system of connections. Components linked by traces, signals flowing along paths designed for purpose. When the system works, we barely notice it. When it fails, we must face and resolve the issue—tracing the broken connection, identifying the failed component, understanding why the expected behavior has stopped.

Life is the same. 

We are all systems of connections: to family, to work, to dreams and duties and the people who depend on us. When life proceeds smoothly, we take it for granted. When crisis strikes—as it did for me, weeks after my polytechnic graduation, when my father's failing health rewrote my future—we must take charge and make sense of our own existence.

Why am I here? What matters most? Which way do I go when the path I planned is suddenly closed?

I am an engineer. I think in systems, in connections, in causes and effects. But I am also a son, a brother, a husband, a writer, and a witness to my own time. This memoir is my attempt to trace the full schematic of my life—to show you the components, the connections, the unexpected paths that current can take when it encounters resistance.

My life has had its share of setbacks and unforeseen circumstances. Yours likely has as well. That is the human condition—to face challenges we did not ask for, to walk roads we did not choose.

But here is what I have learned:

The road still leads somewhere. The circuit still completes. And the person you become along the way—the skills you develop, the wisdom you gather, the strength you never knew you had—that person is no accident. That person is you, forged by experience, connected to all that came before and all that will follow.

Keep your spirits high, reader. The path ahead may not be the one you planned. But it is yours, and it is leading you exactly where you need to go. Remember: you are never alone. Many have walked the journey before you, and many more will follow after you. "How can you be so sure?" you ask.

Well… I offer my story as proof.

 

Feeling Lost? Get the Memoir!

Recently, an ex-colleague from ST Electronics called me out of the blue. He sounded troubled and not the usual, confident person I knew a decade ago. After talking with him for five minutes, I realized he's feeling lost and apprehensive at the prospect of retirement. He is the same age as me.

Such feeling is not unique to people facing retirement after years of working; it can also happen to young graduates who are just stepping out into the world. What should I do? Which company should I join? Where can I find my place in the industry? And many myriads of questions that overwhelm the mind, be it starting out afresh, changing runway mid-career, or entering into the final phase of a work life.

This is the reason I wrote a book about my own engineering journey that spanned three decades from the air force days to the home-grown defense industry, and into my passion and calling as an author. For the first time, readers of my PCB-RE books can now take a peek into the inner world of the writer and understand why he took the paths, whether through necessity or by appointment. Friends who knew me since the early school days had read it and found gems of inspiration, and a better appreciation for the person I am.

For anyone who has ever wondered how things work—or how a life is built—this memoir offers a rare glimpse into a world of precision, problem-solving, and the hidden connections that shape us all.

Get your copy today! 

The Engineering Sovereignty Ecosystem

These nine elements should not be viewed independently. They are not a checklist of features to be implemented one by one, but the components of an integrated ecosystem in which each element reinforces the others: 

• Leadership shapes culture
• Culture influences governance
• Governance strengthens AI deployment
• AI enriches digital twins
• Digital twins improve training
• Training develops Centers of Excellence
• Centers of Excellence populate knowledge repositories
• Knowledge repositories strengthen strategic partnerships
• Partnerships introduce new knowledge that further informs leadership

Engineering Sovereignty therefore functions as a continuously learning ecosystem rather than a collection of isolated initiatives. Each element depends on the others. Each strengthens the others. The organization becomes more capable not because of any single investment but because of the synergistic interaction of all its components.

 

The Engineer of Tomorrow

The engineer of the future will almost certainly possess tools unimaginable to previous generations. Artificial Intelligence will analyze complex systems in seconds. Digital twins will simulate entire platforms continuously, providing real-time insights into performance and potential failure modes. Augmented reality will overlay engineering knowledge directly onto physical equipment, guiding maintenance and repair with unprecedented precision. Autonomous inspection systems will monitor infrastructure around the clock, detecting anomalies before they become failures.

Yet these advances will not diminish the importance of engineers. Rather, they will elevate their responsibilities. Routine analysis may become increasingly automated, but the need for judgment, creativity, and ethical reasoning will grow. If AI can perform the calculations, engineers must provide the wisdom to interpret them. If digital twins can simulate every scenario, engineers must determine which scenarios matter most. If autonomous systems can monitor infrastructure, engineers must decide what to monitor and why. 

Tomorrow's engineer will therefore spend less time searching for information and more time asking meaningful questions. Less time performing routine calculations and more time exercising judgment. Less time documenting what has been done and more time envisioning what should be done. Understanding will become more important than calculation. Judgment more important than routine analysis. Wisdom more important than information. 

This is not a future in which engineers are replaced by machines. It is a future in which engineers are freed by machines to do what only humans can do: exercise judgment, take responsibility, and act as stewards of knowledge for future generations.

 

Digital Twins

Every reverse engineering project creates valuable engineering knowledge. Every failure analysis yields insights. Every technology refresh generates documentation. Engineering Sovereignty ensures that this knowledge remains accessible through digital representation. Digital twins extend far beyond three-dimensional models. They are comprehensive digital representations that integrate multiple layers of engineering understanding. 

A mature digital twin may include schematics that capture the electrical design of a system. PCB layouts that document the physical implementation. Firmware that defines the system's behavior. Simulation models that enable virtual testing and analysis. Manufacturing information that documents materials and processes. Test procedures that validate performance. Operational history that records how the system has performed over time. Failure analysis that documents what has gone wrong and why. Lifecycle documentation that captures the full history of the system from design to retirement. 

Each digital twin therefore becomes a living engineering reference that continuously supports maintenance, technology refresh, redesign, training, and future innovation. It is not a static archive but a dynamic repository that evolves with the system it represents. It preserves organizational understanding even as the people who created that nderstanding move on.

 

Transformation is Cultural

Many transformation programs focus primarily upon processes and technology. They redesign workflows, implement new software, and invest in equipment. These changes are visible and measurable. They can be planned, budgeted, and executed. Yet Engineering Sovereignty argues that lasting transformation occurs first within culture. 

Culture determines whether documentation is regarded as valuable or as bureaucratic overhead. Whether mentoring is encouraged or viewed as a distraction. Whether questions are welcomed or suppressed. Whether failures become opportunities for learning or occasions for blame. Whether engineers willingly share knowledge rather than protect it as personal capital. 

Without cultural transformation, technological transformation rarely endures. An organization may implement a knowledge management system, but if its culture does not value documentation, the system will remain unused. It may invest in digital twins, but if engineers do not trust the models, they will revert to intuition. It may establish mentoring programs, but if senior engineers are not rewarded for teaching, participation will be minimal.

Culture is not an abstract concept. It is the accumulated habits, values, and assumptions that shape how work gets done. Changing culture is difficult and slow—far more difficult than implementing new technology. Yet it is essential. Engineering Sovereignty cannot be achieved through processes alone. It requires a cultural commitment to learning, preservation, and stewardship that pervades the entire organization.

 

Engineering Knowledge

Not all knowledge possesses the same character. Engineering Sovereignty recognizes four complementary forms, each with its own value and its own vulnerabilities. 

EXPLICIT KNOWLEDGE 

Documented. Structured. Searchable. Examples include schematics, drawings, procedures, manufacturing files, and technical standards. Explicit knowledge is the easiest to preserve—it can be written down, stored, and retrieved. Yet explicit knowledge alone is often insufficient. Documentation captures what was known at a particular moment, but it may not capture why decisions were made or what alternatives were considered.

TACIT KNOWLEDGE 

Personal experience accumulated through practice. Pattern recognition. Engineering intuition. Diagnostic judgment. Tacit knowledge is what enables an experienced engineer to diagnose a fault that eludes less experienced colleagues—not because they have more information, but because they have developed the ability to recognize patterns and interpret subtle clues. 

Tacit knowledge is often the first capability organizations lose when experienced engineers retire. It cannot be easily documented. It resides in the minds and hands of practitioners. Preserving tacit knowledge requires mentoring, apprenticeship, and the deliberate transfer of experience from one generation to the next. 

EMBEDDED KNOWLEDGE 

Knowledge incorporated into products themselves. Circuit layouts. Firmware architecture. Mechanical tolerances. Manufacturing techniques. The product becomes a silent teacher for those capable of interpreting it. Embedded knowledge is often invisible until it is needed—and then it may be the only surviving record of how something was designed or built. Recovering embedded knowledge is the essence of reverse engineering. The artifact itself contains clues about its design, its materials, and its manufacturing processes. Learning to read those clues is a core capability of sovereign engineering organizations. 

COLLECTIVE KNOWLEDGE 

Knowledge that exists within the interactions of engineering teams. Design reviews. Communities of practice. Lessons learned. Collaborative problem solving. Collective knowledge frequently exceeds the sum of individual expertise. It emerges from dialogue, debate, and shared experience. Collective knowledge is particularly vulnerable because it depends on relationships and interactions. When teams are disbanded, when experienced engineers leave, or when collaboration is replaced by isolation, collective knowledge dissipates. Building and maintaining communities of practice is therefore essential to preserving this form of knowledge. 

Engineering Sovereignty seeks to cultivate all four simultaneously. An organization that relies solely on explicit knowledge will find its documentation incomplete. An organization that values only tacit knowledge will lose capability when individuals retire. A balanced approach recognizes the unique value and vulnerability of each form. 

 

Why Engineering Sovereignty?

The term "Engineering Sovereignty" may sound ambitious, perhaps even grandiose. But it is a phrase born of necessity, reflecting a reality already being grappled with by governments, defense organizations, and industry leaders. Sovereignty has historically been a political and territorial concept. Today, however, its meaning is extending into the technological domain. 

An organization that cannot understand the technologies it depends on cannot truly control its own future. An organization that cannot regenerate its own engineering knowledge becomes a hostage to external suppliers, its fate determined by forces outside its walls. An organization that cannot sustain its critical technologies will see its operational readiness erode, no matter how advanced those technologies once were. 

Engineering Sovereignty, therefore, is not a synonym for reverse engineering. It is not simply a guide to remanufacturing, a blueprint for digital twins, or a manual for using AI. It is a far more profound and holistic concept. It is the disciplined, systematic cultivation of enduring engineering capability—the art and science of ensuring that an organization can think for itself, solve its own problems, and safeguard its own technological future.

 

Reverse Engineering and Additive Manufacturing

When parts cannot be sourced or restored, the remanufacturer must create them. This is accomplished via reverse engineering and additive manufacturing. The processes can be quite involved, requiring multi-disciplined skills and specific equipment. It is not a one-man effort but a team of competent engineers and technicians who know their trade and tools. 

Reverse Engineering Example – Obsolete Bracket:

Part: Mounting bracket for alternator on 1990s diesel engine
Availability: OEM discontinued, no aftermarket 
Sample: Worn bracket from donor core
Measurement method: 3D scanner + CMM verification 
Material: Cast aluminum (identified via spectrometer) 
Manufacturing method: CNC machined from billet (no casting tooling cost)
Cost per part (10 units): $45 each (vs. OEM new was $18—but unavailable) 
Outcome: Bracket reproduced. Remanufacturing continues.

Of course, reverse engineering occupies a legal gray area. Remanufacturers must navigate intellectual property (IP) law carefully.

Remanufacturing (Revisited)

In late March, I was contacted by the DGM of ASTER and was invited to tour their facilities in early April. Then, sometime early June, a representative from the Army sought me out via Facebook Messenger and arrange for a meetup with his superior in the middle of the month.

Was it coincidence that two organizations, one commercial and the other military, expressed interests in my niche skillset of PCB reverse engineering? All within the space of two months this year. Both are also involved in remanufacturing, albeit in their own operational capacities. The timing could not have been anticipated.

After ten years and six engineering books on PCB-RE and its related subjects, I couldn't believe that here, locally in Singapore, there are actually people who not only read my works but also actively practicing this craft. I was both consolated and excited! It has opened new opportunities for future collaborations as well as enhancing local expertise.

Now that I have drafted two out of the three Rs (Refurbishing and Retrofitting) of Solutions to Obsolescnce, perhaps it's time to work on the final R (Remanufacturing).

Ps: Overseas readers and professionals who have read my book or are involved in these three aspects of overcoming obsolescence, do comment on this post and give your views.  They may prove invaluable to the upcoming book I'm currently working on...

ASTER

The name may not ring a bell to many people in Singapore. And no, it's got nothing to do with the leading provider of chemical and energy solutions in Singapore and Southeast Asia by the same name.

Right after my last post, I was informed by my former manager that someone from ST Engineering, a deputy president of International & PSS/SG BizDigital Systems, asking for my contact. Soon after, someone by the name Leo contacted me. He introduced himself as a deputy general manager of ASTER, a subsidiary of ST Engineering specializing in Maintenance, Repair, and Overhaul (MRO) services for the Singapore Armed Forces.

Leo claimed that he and his team had read my books on PCB Reverse Engineering, and would like to invite me to tour their remanufacturing facility. That piqued my curiosity and I readily accepted the invitation.

We fixed a date in early April. I was given a VIP reception upon arrival and the heads of each section in turn introduced their workplace and process flow, accompanied by the DGM himself and a few support staff. It was quite an eye-opening experience to be given free access to their electronics lab, mechanical workshop, engine bay, and the various test setups. There were similarity in some of their work practices that I could identify with my former work centre, but the majority of what I observed were new to me.

I was deeply impressed by what I saw.

At the end of the tour, we adjorned to a cozy meeting room where refreshments awaited. The DGM asked for my opinion on their setup, and whether there are room for improvements in terms of the processes and practices. In all honesty, I was humbled by the thought that someone of my status, a secluded self-published author, was given such recognition and honor at an institutional-scaled setting.

We had a good time of discussion and the engineers present eagerly asked questions to tap on my experience in reverse engineering and obsolescence solution. I reckoned this first meeting would not be the last, as the DGM generously offered his team and facilities at my service for a possible future collaboration.

I took note of his kind offer and promised to get back to him and his lead engineer, once I am able to provide a viable solution to their black box issue in PCB reverse engineering. In the meantime, there will be a lot of catching up on my part to get up to speed on the subject of remanufacturing.

Ps: As I made my way out, one of the security guards, a retired civil servant, came and shook my hand. He recognized me as the author of an eschatological book he read, and expressed his appreciation for the insights gained from my theological work. Now, that really surprised me and make my day!

Completing the Circuit

And so, here we are.

The full schematic of a life. Traced connection by connection, component by component, from the boy with the first spark to the man with six engineering books and a lifetime of memories.

Every path had a purpose, even when I couldn't see it at the time. The sacrifice that led me to the Air Force. The training that defined my skills. The mentors who taught me to see. The apprentices who carried the knowledge forward. The wife who believed when it was all she could offer.

The circuit is complete. Not finished—life continues, and who knows what new components may yet be added? But complete in the sense of coherent. Understood. Traced and mapped and made visible.

I look back at the journey and feel only gratitude. For the challenges that strengthened me. For the people who shaped me. For the work that gave me purpose. For the readers who made the writing worthwhile. Nothing that happened was wasted. Every moment contributed to the whole.

That's the beauty of a full schematic.

 

The Published Author

It's been over ten years since I exchanged the workbench for the writing desk.

Ten years. A decade. When I look back, it feels both long and short—long in terms of what I've accomplished, short in terms of how quickly the time has passed.

I have written a total of six engineering books. Each one well received by the engineering community. Each one contributing, in its own way, to the body of knowledge around PCB reverse engineering.

But I didn't stop there.

In between the engineering titles, I ventured into other genres. Family. Faith. Fiction. Writing, like engineering, is multi-disciplined. I couldn't be content with just writing about technical stuff. There were other stories to tell, other worlds to explore.

You never know what you're capable of until you try. That mantra has stuck with me through all these years.

In the process, my writing journey took on a life of its own. Not by compulsion or necessity, but by the sheer pleasure of discovering new worlds. Of seeing what words and imagination can come up with when you give them free rein.

Through trials and errors, I've come to realize that not every genre works for every author. My non-engineering books are well-received by peers and friends. That's about it. 

I've wished, sometimes, that international readers would give my other works a chance to land on their bookshelves—the way they did the engineering titles.

But perhaps that's not how it's meant to be. Perhaps my engineering voice is the one that resonates beyond my immediate circle. 

And that's enough. More than enough.

 

The Affirmation

When the final draft of "The Art of PCB Reverse Engineering" was ready, I launched it through Amazon Createspace—now called Kindle Direct Publishing.

Then I waited.

Within two weeks, there were sales.

Not many, but some. Enough to know that people were actually buying the book. Enough to hope that they might read it.

Soon, reviews appeared.

Most were positive. Encouraging. Some readers expressed appreciation for my engaging style of writing—words that meant more to me than any technical compliment.

It was then that I realized something important. I had found a way to transform boring engineering facts into enjoyable narratives. Not by diluting the content, but by framing it as story. By sharing not just what to do, but why it mattered. By revealing the beauty hidden in the work.

That was the affirmation I needed.

 

What It Means to Self-Publish

When I started out to become an author, leaving the comfort of thirty years in full-time employment, I had no idea how my first book would be received.

I worked on it for almost a year while doing part-time at ST Electronics. Juggling between work and writing is a feat not for the fainthearted. There were days when I came home tired from the lab and had to summon energy to write. There were weekends when I would have rather rested, but instead sat at my desk, wrestling with chapters.

I couldn't remember how many times I ground through each chapter. Every footnote. Every reference. Just to be sure I got everything right where it belonged.

Writing a book, I discovered, is not like writing a report. Reports have a beginning, middle, and end. They convey information and stop. Books need flow. They need rhythm. They need to carry the reader along, not just dump facts in their lap.

As a self-published author, I had to manage everything.

Writing, of course. But also editing—going through each sentence, each paragraph, each chapter, looking for ways to improve. Proofreading—catching the typos and grammatical errors that inevitably creep in. Designing the book cover—creating something that would catch a browser's eye and make them want to look inside.

These were skills of a different kind. Skills I picked up along the way, learning by doing, making mistakes and correcting them.

 

From Engineer to Author

Many experienced engineers prefer practical hands-on work to writing books.

Not because they're bad at writing. They do it every day—emails, reports, findings, training notes if they teach. Technical writing is part of the job. But writing a book? That's an entirely different ball game.

Besides the challenge of learning a new craft, you need to write with clarity and in an engaging manner. You can't bore your readers. You can't lose them in a jungle of engineering jargon. Engineers can state a technical fact accurately—that's what we're trained to do. Perhaps we can even state it clearly. But to write engagingly? To make someone want to read about circuits and diagnostics?

That's a skill most of us never develop.

I've often heard people say engineers are a boring lot. Lacking creativity and imagination. Stuck in left-brain thinking, unable to connect with normal humans. I wouldn't consider myself a boring person. But I'll have to admit: most people become lost whenever I tell them about my work. Their eyes glaze over. They nod politely. They look for an exit.

I've thought about why this happens. This was the new challenge I faced when starting out.

How do you translate technical expertise into prose that people actually want to read?

How do you explain complex ideas simply, without losing the depth that makes them valuable?

For engineers, this struggle is real. More real than we'd like to admit.

 

The Urge to Write

Being able to live a fulfilling life is one thing. Being able to pass on what you know to posterity is entirely another.

The urge to write had been growing for years. Quietly at first, then more persistently. It whispered to me during quiet moments at the workbench. It nudged me when I explained a concept to a junior engineer and saw understanding dawn in their eyes. It tapped me on the shoulder when I read technical books and thought, I could do this. I have something to say.

The urge to document. To capture what I had learned. To share it with others who might need it. But stepping out of my comfort zone—leaving a well-paid, promising career—was something most people would think twice about. Three times. Forever.

I was no different. I thought about it constantly.

I talked to Bernice about my dream of writing books. At first, she was taken aback. Her mind went to the obvious places: problems at work, burnout, the nine-to-five grind finally getting to me.

But after understanding where I was coming from, she advised that I take small steps instead of plunging headlong into it. I heeded her advice and arranged with my company to work part-time while attempting my first book.

This was another transitional phase of my career life. I looked forward to it with excitement and anticipation.

Will the dream of authoring my own book materialize? Or will it just be a temporary distraction—something I dabbled in and then abandoned when the reality of writing proved harder than the fantasy?

Only time would tell.

 

The Quiet Years

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years.

The long, stable decades passed quickly—not in a blur, but in a rhythm. The work, the colleagues, the daily routines. Projects started and completed. Problems solved and new ones appearing to take their place. Engineers came and went, some staying years, others moving on to greener pastures.

I remained.

Not because I lacked ambition. Not because I couldn't imagine doing anything else. But because this work, this place, this community of problem-solvers—it fit me. It suited the way my mind worked, the way I approached challenges, the way I found satisfaction in the careful unraveling of mysteries.

Yet in the midst of all this, a subtle shift was taking place.

I was moving, slowly and without quite realizing it, from simply doing the work to understanding that I had something to share. A deep well of knowledge that others might need. Lessons learned through years of trial and error, success and failure, patient observation and sudden insight.

The question was not whether I had something to teach. The question was who would want to learn.

In my twenty-five years at ST Electronics, I had only two true apprentices. Not for lack of opportunity. A few showed passing interest. But sustained engagement? The kind that transforms casual learning into deep mastery?

Only two.

One was a sixty-year-old engineer. The other was a young engineer half his age. They could not have been more different—in age, in experience, in life stage. But both, in their own ways, inherited pieces of what I had to offer.

Teaching isn't just about transferring knowledge. It's about witnessing. About seeing the spark catch on in another person and letting them know you've seen it.