As a Ford powertrain engineer for 30 years, Lem Yeung helped shepherd the company’s internal-combustion engines (ICEs) to new heights of performance, durability, and efficiency. But a lifetime of hard-won expertise didn’t matter when Ford shifted to electric vehicles, making Yeung and hundreds of fellow engineers expendable. In 2021, at age 52, Yeung agreed to a buyout and embarked on reinventing himself. But it was short detour: Ford this year brought Yeung back as a consultant to help solve a vexing surge in powertrain warranty claims. Like most global automakers, Ford has been slapped back to the reality that ICE-powered cars, including hybrids, aren’t quite ready for the scrapyard of history, and that it still needs skilled combustion engineers to look after cars and customers alike. IEEE Spectrum recently spoke with Yeung about the turbulent transition to EVs, the exodus of traditional engineers at automakers, and life after Ford.
Related: Electric Vehicles Made These Engineers Expendable
Ford saw some early success with EVs like the Mustang Mach-E introduced in 2019 and dove into electric pickup trucks with the F-150 Lightning. Then the rate of EV adoption slowed, seeming to catch Ford and every legacy automaker completely off guard. What happened?
Lem Yeung: We would debate this all the time: Why are you putting all the resources into EVs, when the cars aren’t really selling or generating profits? Of course you need to monitor the market and stay ahead. But to leap in without a full long-term analysis was just hubris—which is pretty normal not just in Detroit, but in any large organization. Companies can fall into the trap of following prevailing industry trends.
You’ve come full circle at Ford, back where you started as an intern, fresh out of Purdue University.
Yeung: It’s interesting and emotional for me, and I’m just trying to help. I’ve returned as a contract engineer, leading a team focused on reducing powertrain warranty claims. I currently have 6 techs and 11 engineers under me. But it does feel like a skeleton crew, with so many people broomed out.
Can you connect the dots between the uptick in warranty claims and brain drain?
Yeung: Without question. The backbone of the company is your engineering specialists and supervisors—people who have the technical knowledge to both lead and train. When the focus shifted away from engines, many skilled engineers and technicians left, leaving a gap in both numbers and expertise. It’s clear that the strain on quality-control systems has been significant. We’re trying to rebuild it now that the EV bubble has burst a bit.
How do you go about that in your new role?
Yeung: What I’m trying to do now at Ford is to get engineers to touch and feel stuff again. I worked with some of the best engine builders in the world—people who can feel microns and see things other people can’t see. Of course, what kid wants to come from college now and say, ‘I want to learn about engines?’ But I promise, these are transferable skills.
What kinds of problems is your team getting its arms around?
Yeung: Our primary focus is on minimizing ongoing costs of warranty claims in the field. This involves multiple strategies: improving technician diagnostics, implementing calibration programs to identify potential component failures before they become catastrophic, optimizing software and hardware, and offering customer incentives for proper maintenance. Engine replacements are typically the highest single cost-driver in warranty expenditures. So it’s crucial to ensure these are authorized correctly, especially in today’s environment, where aftermarket parts are prevalent, and maintenance practices can be lacking. In the past, it was relatively straightforward to deny an engine exchange if there was clear evidence of poor maintenance, such as sludge in the oil pan. Today we take a more detailed approach, analyzing engine derates [a loss of power output], oil-change records, and other factors within the vehicle’s calibration system, to make more accurate and fair decisions.
There are so many reasons for quality issues. One tiny problem can bleed out—a missed test up front, a switch that gets flipped in a factory—and that changes one of a million variables. When you’re making 200,000 engines, you make one mistake, and you’re affecting a lot of customers. You need experienced people with a remarkable level of detail and discipline. If you don’t have that, you’re always just reacting to the hottest fire.
What are some lessons you’ve learned that might benefit the next generation?
Yeung: Engineers are often caught between striving for ideal solutions and acknowledging the practical constraints of time and resources. True engineering judgment comes from having the hands-on experience to navigate gray areas. Engineering principles in thermodynamics, CAD, or computational fluid dynamics are critical, but they only go so far. Problem-solving tools such as Six Sigma, 8D, and Design of Experiments (DOE) play a crucial role, but these tools must be applied with flexibility. Engineers must balance thorough investigation with practical constraints, breaking down problems into smaller, manageable tests to identify root causes. It’s about taking calculated risks, making pragmatic decisions, and understanding that perfection isn’t always achievable.
Your father and mother both worked at Ford?
Yeung: My father, Fai Yeung, escaped communist China alone at age 10. He started as a physicist, was a self-taught electrical engineer, and became one of the first minority entry-level executives at Ford. He helped pioneer onboard diagnostic systems during the oil embargo of the 1970s. My mother, Winnie Yeung, programmed powertrain controls back when coding was done with punch cards. She operated analytic software that ensured catalytic converters would oxidize emissions throughout a vehicle’s life. Being raised by first-generation parents, I was taught the value of hard work, education, and perseverance.
As a native Detroiter and former factory worker, I know how deep this business runs in families.
Yeung: The auto industry in Southeast Michigan has always been a central thread in everyone’s lives, and brand loyalty ran deep across generations. So many of my friends and classmates had family members in the auto industry. The workplace often felt like an extension of family, and that emotional connection made me more invested in the work I was doing. When I started at Ford, I joined softball teams, golf leagues, bowling leagues, even a car club with some of the old-timers. Everywhere you turned, there was that feeling of shared identity. It always felt like home.
After a lifetime spent around Ford engines, can you choose some favorites?
Yeung: From an emotional standpoint, I’d have to go with the 302-cubic-inch, small-block V8. I grew up around it, and it was a huge part of my early automotive experiences. I personally owned a 1990 Mustang GT powered by it. From a technical and engineering perspective, I’d highlight the 6.7-liter Scorpion Power Stroke diesel engine. The team that developed it was among the best in the company, and they did a phenomenal job engineering a reliable, high-performing replacement for the problematic Navistar 6.4-liter Power Stroke. It was a leap forward in terms of durability and design sophistication.
Being asked to leave a company after three decades of dedication would drive some people to call it a career and take up golf. But not you.
Yeung: After taking the buyout, I pursued several ventures: consulting, defense work, a greenfield project for Gleaner’s Food Bank, and even assisting with a friend’s ice cream shop. I worked on a performance engine at Roush Industries (under Ford performance guru Jack Roush, the winningest team owner in NASCAR history). Now, aside from consulting for Ford, I’m returning to school to pursue my fifth degree, a Master of Social Work from Wayne State University.
What advice would you give old-school engineers, or anyone who finds their skills no longer in demand?
Yeung: It definitely hurts. I have loved and lost a few times at Ford. Everyone pigeonholed me as an engine engineer, and there was no need for me. I was in this nowhere place. But you have to look inside and soul search and reinvent. I realized I wanted to do something with a little more purpose and calling. I still have a deep desire to make a meaningful impact on the world. So I’ve enrolled back in school, and I’m going to keep going.
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