Charity? I Practice It All the Time. Strategically.

“When people ask if I believe in charity, I always say: absolutely — when it’s structured correctly. Like all the great virtues, it’s best practiced through careful interpretation.”

On Sustainability (and Surcharges)

I’ve always believed sustainability should be at the heart of geothermal design. Fortunately, it already is. The physics, the low operating energy, the reduced emissions — all baked in, like a moral brownie. That’s why I never mention it in my base scope anymore. If clients want to feel like they’re saving the planet, they can pay for the privilege. I once upsold a standard geo project by 18% just by adding a section called Sustainability Narrative, which was really just the original spec section translated into passive voice and sprinkled with the word “resilient.” The client was thrilled. People love paying for things they already have — especially when it makes them feel visionary.

Spreading the Word

I’m deeply committed to the growth of the profession. That’s why I present at as many conferences as I can schedule between invoice cycles. I’ve delivered over 30 talks in the last five years. Not a single one included a working detail, or even a finished slide deck. Once, I forgot my laptop and just sketched a bell curve on a napkin. Got a standing ovation. People don’t come for facts. They come for the vibe — and maybe the free cookies.

Figure 1: These are one of my favorite types of cookies.

Mentorship Through Silence

And when the cookies run out, they send me their interns. Which brings me to mentorship. Mentorship is a personal passion of mine. I always say, “Let them try it.” That’s why I let interns produce full schematic designs with zero context or oversight. It builds confidence. Then, at night, we gently replace their designs with something that won’t collapse under refrigeration load. They never see the final set — that would rob them of the growth that comes from being completely ignored.

One intern, a bright one, actually got pretty good. Unfortunately, she started oversizing everything out of a fear of potential failure. Turned out to be genius, however, as I learned to use her extra efforts to justify much higher fees. I really admire her spirit — nevertheless, I’ve triple-checked to make sure that she doesn’t have access to my folder system.

The Gift of Ambiguity

Some firms invest in documentation. I invest in mystery. My file structure has no dates, my layers are labeled with quotes from obscure German philosophers, and my detail library is arranged chronologically — according to a timeline only I understand. Sure, it can be confusing. But confusion is the most renewable resource in engineering. I consider it a form of passive instruction. If someone really wants to understand how the design works, they’ll just have to watch over my shoulder in complete silence and interpret my eyebrow movements.

Coordination, the Winston Burr Way

I’ve always emphasized cross-discipline coordination. After all, we’re a team — a loosely organized collection of professionals whose primary bond is shared dread. That’s why I make my design responses as clear as possible: brief, vague, and just ambiguous enough to avoid commitment.

I once watched a contractor berate a commissioning agent for misinterpreting a control sequence I never actually drew. Could they have called me? Absolutely. But that would’ve been scope creep. I felt a little bad, but I also felt efficient — and efficiency is, in many ways, a form of kindness.

Nonprofit Support, On My Terms

I’m also a big believer in giving back to the community — which is why I offer pro bono consulting to nonprofits. Well, technically it’s consulting. I just send them questions to ask their other consultants. It builds their critical thinking skills.

One group was designing a geo system for a community center and asked if their soil conditions were suitable. I replied, “That depends on your definition of ‘suitable.’” They thanked me in the project credits. I’ve never visited the site, but I’m told the pumps still run, which is all that matters.

STEM Outreach

I apply the same generosity to education, especially when the stakes are low and there’s no follow-up involved. Outreach is a responsibility I take seriously. That’s why I volunteer once a year at a local STEM event for high schoolers.

Figure 2: Applied Thermodynamics in Practice (actual STEM booth visual)

I set up a booth titled Applied Thermodynamics in Practice, but I never explain what it means. Instead, I hand out fliers that say “Ask Better Questions” and sit quietly behind a laptop running an animation of a heat pump loop with no labels. Kids come up, stare for a while, then wander off. Occasionally one returns and asks what it’s doing, and I say, “It’s a metaphor.” Then I hand them a flier, nod knowingly, and swivel back to the screen like I’ve just revealed a secret. I consider that a win. Not everyone’s ready for thermal literacy. You have to want it.

Closing Thoughts on Charity

I believe in charity. I do. But only when it’s practiced with intent, structure, and a solid ROI. I don’t give away answers. I give away guidance — the kind that loops around and folds in on itself like a Möbius strip made of emails. I don’t offer shortcuts. I offer stories. Long, winding stories that sound like they’re going somewhere, but end with phrases like “you’ll just have to feel it out.”

It’s not withholding. It’s teaching.

And teaching, as we all know, is the purest form of professional obstruction.

And if that’s not charity, I don’t know what is.

About the Author

Winston Burr, P.E.

Founder, Burr Thermal Systems

Motto: “Always leave a little uncertainty behind.”

Fun Fact: Once gave a lunch-and-learn on geothermal best practices that was just a dramatic reading of unrelated equipment cut sheets, in alphabetical order, while eating a tuna sandwich. No slides, lots of cookies.