Figure 1: Me in front of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India. India taught me so much through its ancient monuments, amazing achitecture, and colorful culture.
15 March 2026
At the close of last year, following a decade at a stable job, a journey through India, where the lines between art and engineering seem to blurr, offered me a profound shift in my perspective on the work I do. Touring majestic structures that have endured for centuries—built with materials and technologies limited by their era, yet achieving breathtaking symmetry and robust longevity—it was easy to get lost in the details. The marvel of workmanship and scale is so impressive that any visitor is bound to find something deeply inspirational. For me, these massive structures, with their exacting tolerances and elaborate raw materials, illustrate that great engineering projects are never truly "done." Instead, they rely on temporal teams.
With construction timelines ranging from six years to over 75 years, these horizons forced me to challenge my understanding of a team’s composition. Teams are not just composed of those we sit next to today; they include those who contributed long before us and those who will maintain our work long after we are gone. This holistic approach is vital for producing engineering outcomes that are resilient and sustainable. It emphasizes Temporal Teamwork: collaborating across time to ensure engineering excellence.
The first and most familiar layer of Temporal Teamwork is the "Now" team. This involves tackling a problem through a shared perspective to complete the current phase of work. Success depends on an integrated understanding of our history, our current trajectory, and our ultimate destination. This mirrors the standard requirements-driven process: defining the next step to move a system toward operation.
The Sheesh Mahal (Hall of Mirrors) at the Amber Fort is a perfect example of the integrated success of a "Now" team. The objective was to deliver a stunning room that could be illuminated and warmed by a single light source during winter months using convex mirrors.
Realizing this design required precise execution: cutting thousands of small mirror fragments, mixing specialized plaster, and setting repeating patterns across vast surfaces. The team successfully bridged the gap between conceptualization and execution, creating an effect that has endured for more than 400 years.
Awareness of project objectives is the central pillar of the "Now" team. Friction often arises from conflicting information or a lack of alignment between teammates. It is the responsibility of the "Now" team to internalize the goal they were given, deconstruct large objectives into smaller, calculated steps, and take action.
Figure 2: The Sheesh Mahal at Amber Fort at Jaipur, India is more than just a historical monument; it's a testament to incredible engineering teamwork. The intricate Shish Mahal ceiling shown here was achieved by thousands of tiny, precise convex mirrors set in plaster—a process that demanded total alignment and shared vision. The original goal was as practical as it was beautiful: to warm and illuminate the vast chamber using just a single candle. Accomplishing this required more than individual skill; it demanded a "Now" team that shared an integrated understanding of the materials, the physics, and the ultimate desired outcome. Each mirror had to be placed with the same vision in mind, a perfect analogy for how modern engineering teams must align their short-term efforts with the primary project mission.
On large-scale projects, the "Now" team relies heavily on the "Before" team—those who wrestled with the initial challenges and made the foundational decisions. They have already passed the baton; our job is to run the next leg of the relay using their plans as our guide.
The Taj Mahal’s decorative stonework perfectly illustrates this generational relationship through two distinct aesthetic standards: the bas-relief marble carvings and the pietra dura (inlaid semi-precious stones). These two mediums required entirely different technical skill sets, yet they had to coexist in perfect mathematical harmony. To maintain this unity, every artisan hired—even those joining 20 years into construction—had to adhere to the strict geometric logic and floral taxonomy established at the project's inception.
Any loss of this collective perspective would have shattered the structure’s visual continuity. If a carver in year fifteen had deviated from the "Before" team’s established curves, or if an inlay artist had ignored the color palette of the initial stones, the resulting "aesthetic debt" would have compromised the entire architectural legacy. We succeed today by honoring the intentions of yesterday.
When collaborating with the "Before" team, foundational forensics is essential. Understanding original technical constraints and philosophical intent provides the context for why things are the way they are. We move beyond knowing what was built to understanding why it was built—recognizing that a specific floral motif isn't just a decoration, but a blueprint for symmetry that governs the entire facade. This minimizes technical debt and prevents wasteful rework. While the "Before" team may not be available for a meeting, they speak to us through the records, drawings, and artifacts they left behind. We just need to search for and read them.
Figure 3: The seamless integration of the marble relief and colored inlay seen here at the Taj Mahal is the result of rigid aesthetic standards established by the "Before" team at the project's inception. These artisans were required to subordinate their individual styles to a master geometric logic, ensuring that work completed decades apart felt like the touch of a single hand rather than a series of disconnected updates. By treating these established patterns as "knowledge artifacts," the builders avoided aesthetic debt and ensured that every new stone added was a continuation of the original vision rather than a contradiction. This demonstrates the power of foundational forensics: when the "Now" team takes the time to read the records left in the marble, they can run their leg of the relay with the same certainty as those who laid the first stone.
The ultimate expression of Temporal Engineering is the "Ahead" team mindset. This requires us to be "good ancestors" to those who will follow. We must ensure that the "Ahead" team receives our best current understanding so they can successfully take over when we transition out.
The Qutub Minar is a towering testament to this necessity. Built primarily of red sandstone over a 75-year period, the tower was expanded and repaired by successive rulers. Even after it was hit by lightning, the team at the time did not just repair it; they added a fifth story, bringing it to a height of 73 meters in 1368, nearly 170 years after the first stones were placed.
The fact that it still stands today, despite being the tallest brick minaret in the world, illustrates the critical need for transmissible designs that facilitate continuous maintenance across centuries.
When working for the "Ahead" team, we prioritize insight and direction. We provide them with "knowledge artifacts"—documentation that anticipates future problems. While we cannot know exactly what challenges they will face, we can give them the "leg up" they need by securing the messaging pathways of the project’s history.
Figure 4: Standing at 73 meters, the 12th-century masterpiece Qutub Minar in New Delhi, India wasn't the work of a single lifetime, but a relay race of architectural "knowledge artifacts." By treating successive rulers and builders as the "Ahead" team, the original architects ensured the tower could be repaired, expanded, and even elevated centuries after its foundation was laid. It remains a towering reminder that our best designs are those built to be understood and maintained by the "good ancestors" who follow us.
Engineering is often sold as the art of solving problems in the present, but as these ancient monuments suggest, true engineering is a dialogue across time. The "Now" team provides the energy and execution, the "Before" team provides the foundation and intent, and the "Ahead" team provides the longevity and evolution.
When we view our work through the lens of Temporal Engineering, our responsibility shifts. We are no longer just builders of parts; we are stewards of a continuum. By documenting our "whys," respecting the constraints of our predecessors, and aligning our daily tasks with a vision that outlasts our tenure, we create solutions that are truly resilient. Whether we are writing code, building bridges, or designing satellites, we are part of a relay race. The strength of the project lies not just in the quality of our individual stride, but in how well we handle the baton.
thx, m