John Hutchinson is the co-founder of PCS Instruments and one of the engineers behind the company’s earliest breakthrough tribology systems. What began as a practical solution to a real-world testing gap grew into a global instrumentation business trusted by industry and academia for repeatable, standards-aligned tribology data. 

In this article, John reflects on the origins of PCS, the principles that shaped its reputation, and why the company’s US expansion marks a new chapter, bringing customers faster access to specialist support, deeper partnership, and the next generation of innovation across tribology and adjacent application areas. 

‘PCS started life as a consulting company. At the time, there was no real mechanism for universities to spin out non-academic consultancy work. 

If someone came along and said they wanted to do a completely novel piece of research, the university tribology group might say that was great and sponsor a project, perhaps creating a PhD or MSc. But if the request was more practical, such as testing a set of oils, there was no established way for the university to handle that. 

Instead, informal arrangements existed. A company would approach one of the academics, agree a price, and the work would be done by the academic and one or more PhD students in their spare time. The university did not mind, as it was not seen as their remit to police or profit from that activity, as long as no one overdid it. 

Someone involved very early on suggested setting up a company to do this properly. Initially it was conceived quite altruistically. People who did more work would earn a greater share in the company. Inevitably, after a few years, most of the people involved left and got what they would probably call proper jobs. In the end, it was just Clive and me doing the work. 

We nearly did the same ourselves and considered leaving to work elsewhere, but an opportunity came along that made us realise we needed to stop doing consultancy and start making things. That led to the first instruments, and it grew from there. 

One way of looking at it is that PCS solved the problem of us having to find proper jobs. More importantly, it created a formal entity that could accept external consultancy work properly, rather than everything being informal and personal. 

There is a long story about what PCS originally stood for. 

When we were trying to think of a name for the company, one suggestion was Imperial Consulting Services. We realised the college probably would not like that, and Companies House are not keen on small startups calling themselves Imperial or United either. 

At the time, we had an office in the Mechanical Engineering building and a subscription to New Scientist. In March 1987, the April Fool’s issue included a spoof article about cold fusion research at Primelia College, which is an anagram of Imperial. 

As a joke, I suggested Primelia Consulting Services. Everyone loved it. Clive and I hated it, but that was the name the company was incorporated under. 

It was a mouthful, so we quickly shortened it to PCS. When we started making equipment, it became PCS Instruments. Around 2000, we formally changed the company name to PCS Instruments Ltd, and the original name was consigned to history. 

Tribology is almost the definition of a multidisciplinary subject. Depending on the application, it involves chemistry, stress analysis, fluid flow, and contact mechanics. 

Historically, lubricant formulators were often excellent chemists but did not necessarily understand contact mechanics or how surface roughness affects what is happening in a contact. The same applies elsewhere. Even food and oral tribology are fundamentally the same problem, just with softer materials. 

Most tribological problems cannot be solved analytically because they are too complex. The equations governing fluid flow in an elastohydrodynamic contact are effectively unsolvable in closed form. As a result, you rely on empirical testing or numerical models, which tend to give insight only into specific cases. 

If you want to know whether an engine oil both protects an engine and reduces fuel consumption, the definitive test is a full engine test, which is extremely expensive. If you can design a bench test that gives meaningful insight into how a lubricant would perform in an engine test, you can drastically reduce the number of full-scale tests required. 

In some applications, the cost difference is enormous. One of our early projects involved gearbox failures in gas-turbine-powered ships. These used Concorde-derived jet engines driving huge gearboxes. Testing that system at full scale is incredibly expensive, or you can use a machine that replicates the conditions in the gearbox, which is exactly why the MPR was developed. 

The same principles apply in other industries. One of our early customers was a food company trying to make a zero-fat mayonnaise. They could get the appearance, flavour, smell, and consistency right, but when you put it in your mouth, it just felt wrong. 

Sensory panels have limits. People can only eat so much mayonnaise, and the quality of the data is not great. Repeatable, reproducible testing provides far better insight. 

From the very beginning, we genuinely enjoyed solving customers’ problems. 

When we sold an instrument, that was the start of the relationship, not the end. Once procurement was done, we wanted to talk to the end users. Some ran the same test repeatedly, while others wanted help interpreting results. 

We were always keen to help customers understand what they were seeing and how it related to their problem. In the early days, we did not even think about charging for that support. It was simply part of what we did. 

Many early customers were people we already knew, including former colleagues and PhD students who had moved into industry. They came to us with problems, and solving them genuinely made our day. That mindset carried through into the culture of the company. 

America has always been an important market for us. Many oil companies are headquartered there, a lot of research and development happens there, and US universities have long been good customers. 

We had known for years that a US office would make sense, but Clive and I did not start the company because we enjoyed managing satellite offices across continents. We did it because we liked engineering. 

We were self-aware enough to know we would not have done it well. We would have opened an office and then neglected it because we did not want to spend our lives flying back and forth. 

Now the company has evolved. We have a management team for whom this kind of expansion is not only feasible but desirable. That is what makes this the right time. 

For customers in the United States, the immediate impact will be faster, more local support with people much closer to their time zones. 

Historically, support involved emails, photos, and phone calls, sometimes over several days. If that did not work, one of us would get on a plane. I once flew to New Jersey, fixed a problem in minutes, and flew home the same day. 

Going forward, customers will see quicker resolution, better engagement, and access to new product launches across adjacent markets and entirely new areas. 

As industries change, with electric vehicles, new materials, and new applications, we will bring new ways of solving problems, including some that customers may not even realise are addressable yet. 

The products we make today are far more sophisticated, with much greater internal complexity. 

What has not changed is our refusal to release something unless we believe it is right. Because the company was run by engineers, we never bowed to commercial pressure to release unfinished products - that philosophy still holds today.’