Fall 2015 Commencement Address, Russell E. Parker

Thank you, Dean Wood. Good morning. We're sort of awake. Good morning. There we go. I got to tell you, I'm very humbled and very honored to be asked to speak to you this morning. And to Dean Wood, and to the faculty, graduates, and friends and family, I'm very, very honored just to be asked to be here. So thank you for giving me that opportunity. You know, what starts here changes the world. When Dean Wood asked me to make the keynote speech today, I was very honored but also said to myself, how successfully could I accomplish the task at hand? Like any good engineer, I started with high quality research, using my phone and YouTube, right? Sadly, I actually find all too often that 22-year-old engineers consider YouTube and their phones valuable engineering tools. Let me caution you with this a little bit, because these tools will also lead you to conclude that reality television is a benefit to society and actors are experts in everything from climate science to geophysics to economics. So be careful with that phone. I'm fairly confident that none of that is true. And as a matter of fact, for now, you want to go ahead and put it back in your pocket. You can fact check me later. For the next 15 minutes, you can use your neck as Mother Nature intended and just look forward. So back to the research behind successful commencement speeches. It seems that being famous is a big help. Well, with the exception of two 10 soccer teams and one Boy Scout troop, I am not in fact famous. I have, however, been told I look something like Brett Favre. I could pass for Adam Levine's older brother, or on a rare occasion, Oprah. Apparently it's in the eyes. So even though I'm not famous, I've got a suggestion. Well, why don't you all just pretend that I am famous, and that will make the next 14 minutes seem that much more impressive. So here we go. You've heard it before, that what starts here changes the world. Well, I can tell you that that's true. Moreover, what starts here can change your life. You now have the ability to change the way in which the world works for the better. You have the ability to build the bridges to meet the world's challenges. You can also build the bridges for that next generation of engineers to walk across, just as the engineers that came before you built the bridges that you all walked across. All right, now I'll pause here. I'm hoping that my metaphors are making sense even at 9:15 in the morning, when many of you are still feeling the after-effects of all the ethyl alcohol you pumped through your liver last night. Dr. Larry Lake, my reservoir engineering professor behind me, would be proud to know that I can actually still translate drinking alcohol into a multi-phase fluid flow through porous media diffusivity problem. For everyone in the room that's not an engineer, get used to that kind of humor. You're obviously here because you love an engineer, or you think you do, and it never stops. What starts here changes the world. Graduates, you have the ability, you have the benefit of pedigree. Your ability to achieve will not be limited by the caliber of your degree. As a matter of fact, the only universities with more members of the National Academy of Engineering or more patents are Stanford and MIT. And you see, this school and its graduates are responsible for, among many other things, 3D printing technology, the lithium-ion battery, ethernet networking, and the construction of the iPhone, the iPad, and the MacBook Air. It was a Steve Jobs design, but a Longhorn engineer actually led the team that made it happen. That's right. Once again, you can fact check me later. Just put your phone back in your pocket. And in my industry, Longhorn engineers actually comprised the leadership of 40% of the top private E&P companies in the United States and 25% of the top public E&P companies in this country. Even the school's namesake, Ernie Cockrell Jr., was one of the first petroleum engineering graduates of the university. He, like so many others, paved new ground. He used math and science to solve problems, creating value for those around them. They contributed back to their communities, their university, their country, ultimately building a bridge for others to walk across on their way to solve that next problem. What starts here changes the world. 20 years ago, we thought the United States was about to run short on natural gas, so much so that an LNG import terminal was constructed to import natural gas from the Middle East. But guess what? All you need to solve a problem is a collection of engineers and geoscientists with the blessing of a free market economy. And 20 years later, the US oil and gas industry is so efficient at producing domestic natural gas that LNG export terminals are in the works. We have the cheapest electricity of any large western nation, and because natural gas is so much cleaner than coal or fuel oil, collective CO2 emissions from the US power sector have dropped 16% over the last seven years. I'm referring, of course, to the benefits of the US shale revolution, which I am very, very proud to be a small part of. Engineers solve the problem. Engineers made the world a better place, and all the while produce great economic benefit and opportunity. This was not a result of policy or federal mandate. And even though our feds would love to take the credit for things such as this, at the risk of becoming an even larger target for the IRS, I'll say it publicly: they don't get it. They don't get the credit. Engineers do. Longhorn engineers do. What starts here changes the world, and how lucky we are to be a part of it. Now, as an engineer, I'll try to quantify luck. All right, again, for those of you who are not in the room, or in the room that are not engineers, just get used to this. So roughly 300,000 students graduate from Texas high schools every year. 1,137 undergraduate degrees were awarded at the Cockrell School over the last calendar year. So there's less than a 0.4% chance that a graduating Texas high school senior will end up as a Longhorn engineer. Now, less than half graduated in the fall. And while four years is the goal, not all of you made it in four. Don't feel bad. I really enjoyed sophomore year a couple of times. Maybe three. So if less than half graduate in the fall, then there's less than a 0.2% chance that the average overachieving nerd sitting in a Texas high school in 2011 would end up in this room right now, right here today. Now let's consider how unlucky it is, or how odd it is, that you would be sitting here today listening to me talk about how lucky you are. The Cockrell School had well over 20,000 alumni to choose from for today's address. And I must admit, I had a bad case of senioritis. As a matter of fact, if I had not scored a 98 on my petrochemistry final 11 days before graduation, I might not have... I'd have failed that class, and I might not have been in the pool of 20,000 to begin with. Therefore, even though the bulk of us in this room or sitting on the floor are Texas high school graduates and we are at the University of Texas, the odds that we would all end up here today in this very situation are less than 10 to the negative seventh. How nerdy are we? How lucky are we? While I used a little engineering humor to make my point, I don't want it to escape you that we are all fortunate just to be in this room. You on the floor have been blessed with the analytical skills that will enable you to solve great problems. You can tackle incredible challenges. You have the ability to make what seems impossible common. And in short, you can change the world. I just... one note: the parents are gonna love this. You're not going to change the world staring at your phone or living life through it. Use your talents to find the problems you have a passion to solve and get after it. If you're not passionate about what you're doing, that's fine. Change it. Keep exploring, keep trying, and don't give up. Engineers make a difference when their passion for math and science leads them to a problem they want to solve, not for money or fame or position, but because they can, because they have a natural curiosity and the initiative to do so, and because solving that problem makes a difference. It changes the world, even if just slightly. I hate to warn you that if you're chasing that sign-on bonus or that next higher salary, you'll probably only be fulfilled until your dollar is spent. I may be the president of a company, but I got to tell you, my most exciting days at work are spent going through our research projects, some of which are actually conducted here at the university. I actually thoroughly enjoy modeling and then experimenting and trying to decipher things such as horizontal well completion techniques, trying to improve the recovery of gas in place. I get fired up about this stuff. I just love it. I find the process and the results just enjoyable for the sake of solving the problem and seeing the positive results that are achieved. Following your passion can produce a sense of excitement and reward that is contagious. And I can tell you, when you get to solve problems that can change the direction of a group or a company or a school or a community, maybe a state, maybe a nation, maybe our world, you're going to know the difference. And that feeling of success, it's an incredible sense of fulfillment. My goal for all of you is to achieve this kind of success. And when you do, you will have built the bridge. You will have changed the world. I don't want to mislead you today and make you think that you're about to head down the path of roses and lollipops to a permanent utopia where Longhorns always win in football and tickets are free. Life can be tough. You'll work your tail off at times just to find other people working against you, dragging you down. You may challenge your own choices and actions and lose faith in yourself from time to time. But don't let it consume you. Don't be a victim. And remember, no matter how tough you have it, someone else has it worse. Let me tell you a little story that maybe you can lean on when you hit that brick wall. Instead of UT, imagine you graduated today from a university on the other side of the world. You decide that there's a neighboring country that looks ripe with opportunity, so you move. You cross the border, you move there. You start a couple of businesses. You get married. You have a child. And you think life is looking good. Then one day, the military shows up and says, get out or die. And I don't mean pack, and I don't mean go to the bank and get your money. I mean get out. Walk to the border with the clothes on your back. You've been caught up in an ethnic cleansing. You end up with the clothes on your back, floating on a barge from one nation to another. Eventually, a church in a country halfway around the world hears about this and sponsors your trip to freedom. Well, freedom of a sort. You end up halfway around the world in a country where you know no one, you don't speak the language, and you are a citizen of nowhere. You don't give up, though. You were a businessman, but you start working as a gardener, and you start saving your money so that you can start another business. After three years, you manage to move your family to town. And of all things, you start a simple donut shop. More years go by. You and your family continue to work diligently, and eventually you can open a second donut shop. You're making enough money that you can quit working as a gardener, concentrate on your business, and things are starting to look up. Eventually, your kids are in the local school, learning the language, working at the shop, actually helping you negotiate with the local banks because you don't speak the language. And soon, you've opened up so many shops and they're doing so well that you've run about every other donut franchise out of town. Your oldest son ends up at UT, an engineering student, and he rooms with his friend from high school, a friend he had to keep out of trouble more than once. Years later, you managed to actually retire, franchising all the shops. It's the ultimate American success story. You never gave up. You were not a victim. And your only advantage was your own work ethic, and you used it, and you succeeded. And you damn sure didn't make your fortune suing someone over hot coffee that was in fact hot. You earned your success. Your oldest son, who could have died as an 18-month-old refugee in the South China Sea, actually finishes at UT with a degree in petroleum engineering. And his best friend, who only switched major because your son talked him into it, ends up giving the commencement address today. Love your friends and love your family. You're gonna need them. I wouldn't be here today without mine. And by the way, to my man Moe, I think you know this: I'm damn sure better off for having known you. Class of 2015, if you remember nothing else here today, remember that what starts here changes the world, and you are now a critical part of that change. I want to be the first to congratulate you today, but I'm gonna ask you to do something first. I'm gonna make you earn it, okay? I want to hear you make a promise to the faculty, to your friends, to your families, to each other. Before you take that next step in life, I'm gonna ask for a little participation. I'm gonna ask you graduates to stand up. I'm gonna ask you to get your horns up. And on my count of three, I want you to say with me, 'We will change the world.' And I want you to say it with some heart so we don't have to do it twice. So graduates, if I can, I'm gonna ask you to please stand up. Get your horns up. And on my count of three, say it with me: 'We will change the world.' One, two, three. We will change the world! Congratulations, class of 2015. God bless you. God bless the Cockrell School. God bless Texas. And Hook 'em!