Raymond Weil: The Independent Watchmaker Who Built a Family Dynasty During Crisis

A Man, a Crisis, and a Watch

In 1976, when the Swiss watchmaking industry was hemorrhaging to death, a 50-year-old man in Geneva made a decision that shouldn’t have worked. The Quartz Crisis had decimated mechanical watchmaking. Japanese manufacturers had proven that tiny electronic oscillators could keep better time than three centuries of Swiss craftsmanship. The world no longer needed mechanical watches. Mechanical watches were beautiful relics, nothing more.

Thousands of watchmakers shuttered their doors. The great houses—Jaeger-LeCoultre, Omega, Rolex—were battling for survival, desperately trying to understand how to compete with $30 quartz watches that never needed service. The industry that had defined Geneva for 300 years was collapsing.

It was into this apocalypse that Raymond Weil stepped.

His name wasn’t Raymond Weil the industrialist or Raymond Weil the heir. There was no family watchmaking dynasty. There was no inherited factory or intergenerational collection of master craftsmen. There was simply Raymond—a former general manager at Camy Watch Company, a modest manufacturer where he’d spent 27 years learning the business from inside.

For Weil, those 27 years (1949-1976) at Camy had been an education in survival. He’d entered Camy through an old classmate, Maurice Stroun, who’d recognized potential in the young Genevan. From that connection, Weil had climbed through the ranks, eventually running the entire manufacturing operation as General Manager. He’d witnessed the industry’s transformation firsthand—the desperate innovations, the failed strategies, the slow death.

Most men in his position would have retired. Weil did something else entirely.

In 1976, at an age when most executives considered their careers complete, Raymond Weil founded his namesake company in Geneva. But he wasn’t trying to resurrect the mechanical watch industry. He wasn’t trying to prove that Swiss craftsmanship still mattered in a world of quartz crystals and digital displays. He was doing something far more radical: he was asking whether there might be a completely different market—one that neither the heritage manufacturers nor the mass-market quartz producers were serving.

What if people wanted Swiss quality without Swiss pricing? What if they wanted artistic watches without choosing between mechanical precision and quartz reliability? What if they wanted timepieces that meant something—that told a story—without requiring them to be wealthy collectors?

Weil’s first distributor was not a luxury retailer. It was not a prestigious department store. It was a foldout bridge table in the Geneva market. Weil and his co-founder, Simone Bédat, sold watches directly to anyone interested—collectors, enthusiasts, curious passersby. No middlemen. No distribution networks. Just two people with a vision and a table in a market square.

The watches sold.

Not explosively. Not immediately. But steadily. People wanted what Weil was offering. By 1982, six years after founding, the brand had proven something remarkable: you didn’t need a two-century heritage to build a successful Swiss watchmaker. You needed clarity of vision. You needed to understand what the market actually wanted rather than what the industry insisted it should want.

Raymond Weil’s Strategic Expansion: When Family Became Foundation

In 1982, something subtle but transformative happened. Raymond Weil’s son-in-law, Olivier Bernheim, joined the company.

This wasn’t just hiring. This was the beginning of a family dynasty—one that would define the brand for the next 40+ years. Olivier was different from his father-in-law. Where Raymond Weil focused on technical excellence and product quality, Olivier understood something equally crucial: brand identity.

Olivier began asking questions that would reshape Raymond Weil’s trajectory: What is this brand about? Why should anyone care about Raymond Weil beyond the quality of the watch? How do you make customers feel something beyond mechanical precision?

His answer came through an unconventional insight: music.

Most watch brands traced their heritage through mechanical innovation or aristocratic clientele. Patek Philippe celebrated complications. Rolex celebrated durability. Raymond Weil, Olivier realized, should celebrate something more emotional—something that connected to human experience beyond timekeeping.

In 1983, just one year after joining, Olivier launched Amadeus—a collection named after Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the Austrian classical composer. The timing was strategic; the film “Amadeus” was about to release, bringing Mozart into popular consciousness. But the deeper philosophy was more important: watches could be about art, about human genius, about creative vision expressed through mechanical form.

The Amadeus collection announced something that no other watchmaker was saying: a watch isn’t just a device for measuring time. It’s an expression of philosophy. It’s a connection to greatness. It’s a wearable piece of the things humans create when they reach for transcendence.

Following Amadeus, more collections emerged—each named after musical traditions, each carrying its own philosophical weight:

Toccata captured the virtuosity of keyboard compositions—rapid, technically brilliant passages that required mastery. Fantasia embodied free improvisation, the moment when technical skill dissolves into pure artistic expression. Tango (1987) brought the sensuality of Argentine dance—passion, rhythm, seduction translated into mechanical form. Nabucco honored Verdi’s operatic grandeur.

Each name meant something. Each collection carried philosophical weight. Olivier had recognized that in a world obsessed with heritage, Raymond Weil could compete through meaning—through positioning watches as artistic statements rather than mere instruments.

This was revolutionary in watchmaking. Heritage brands celebrated the past. Contemporary brands celebrated innovation. Raymond Weil was doing something different: celebrating human creativity across time.

By the 1990s, as Olivier expanded the brand internationally—to the United Kingdom first, then the United States, the UAE, and India—this musical philosophy had become the brand’s DNA. Collectors didn’t just buy Raymond Weil watches. They bought connections to artistic vision. They bought timepieces that meant something beyond functionality.

Raymond Weil’s Luxury Threshold: Parsifal Collection Expansion

By 1991, 15 years after Raymond Weil’s founding and 9 years into Olivier’s strategic leadership, the brand had proven its market positioning. The grassroots distribution had evolved into a genuine international presence. The music-inspired collections had created emotional resonance with collectors.

But Olivier recognized a limitation: Raymond Weil was known as an accessible, quality-conscious brand. What if it could be more? What if it could compete at genuine luxury price points—not the ultra-premium stratosphere of Patek Philippe or Rolex, but the refined luxury segment where artistry and mechanical excellence commanded premium pricing?

In 1991, Raymond Weil introduced the Parsifal Collection—named after Richard Wagner’s final opera. This wasn’t a modest expansion. It was a deliberate statement of ambition.

Parsifal introduced stainless steel and 18K gold into the Raymond Weil portfolio. The case design featured an integrated cross-link bracelet—a signature element that would become instantly recognizable. The crown was protected by a lacquer dome (typically blue), giving the watch a distinctive, almost sculptural appearance. The bezel carried fluted gadroons. The dial featured Roman numeral hour markers—a classical touch that signaled serious, refined horology.

For men, the case was 41mm—substantial and authoritative. For women, 30mm—elegant and refined. The movement options ranged from ETA quartz (for accessibility) to automatic mechanical (for tradition-minded collectors). Some variants included chronograph complications or GMT functionality.

At prices ranging from $1,500 to $2,300 USD in the secondary market—higher than Raymond Weil’s established positioning but still accessible compared to heritage luxury houses—Parsifal proved something crucial: the brand could command premium pricing while maintaining its philosophical identity.

Parsifal became one of Raymond Weil’s most iconic collections. Discontinued in the 2000s, it was re-launched in 2010 with refined proportions, signaling that the collection’s design language remained relevant decades later. By the time we reach 2026, Parsifal remains in production—proof that a collection introduced 35 years earlier still resonates with collectors seeking refined, artistic timepieces.

Through the 1990s and early 2000s, Olivier guided Raymond Weil through steady expansion. The brand was no longer a curious upstart founded during an industry crisis. It was an established player—not prestigious by heritage standards, but genuinely respected for design excellence and philosophical coherence. The music-inspired collections had created emotional loyalty. The international expansion had created distribution strength. And Parsifal had proven that the brand could operate across multiple price points without losing identity.

The Generational Handoff: When Visionaries Trust Their Successors

By the mid-2000s, Olivier Bernheim—now in his 60s—had guided Raymond Weil for more than two decades. The brand had grown from a Geneva-market table to an international luxury watchmaker with presence on multiple continents. The musical philosophy had become institutionalized. The collections had become recognized.

Yet Olivier recognized something that many family business leaders struggle with: succession isn’t about hanging on. It’s about recognizing when new perspectives are needed.

In 2006, for the brand’s 30th anniversary, Olivier brought his two sons into the company. Elie Bernheim joined as Marketing Director. Pierre Bernheim took over Sales. This was no ceremonial appointment. Both sons were young professionals entering the family business with contemporary skills and perspectives that the company would need for the next phase of evolution.

For eight years, they worked alongside their father. Olivier remained CEO while his sons learned the business—not through classroom instruction, but through direct involvement in decision-making, product development, and market strategy.

In 2014, Olivier stepped into a new role: President. His son Elie was appointed CEO.

This wasn’t a dramatic transition. It was a natural evolution of the family knowledge that Olivier had always believed in. As he would later articulate:

“This continuity, this natural transmission of knowledge from one generation to the another, became our own school of thought, and can be seen in all our watches, despite their diversity in pattern and technology.”

Elie represented something different from his father and grandfather. Where Raymond Weil focused on technical excellence and Olivier on strategic positioning, Elie brought market-responsive innovation and authentic artistic collaboration.

The Modern Collections: Freelancer and the Contemporary Evolution

In 2007, under Olivier’s continued guidance but with Elie’s emerging influence, Raymond Weil launched Freelancer—a collection designed for the modern professional who rejected conformity.

The Freelancer philosophy was deliberate: “For the free-spirited individual who wishes to remain in control of their own destiny.”

This was a different aesthetic from Parsifal’s classical elegance or the decorative music-inspired collections. Freelancer embraced minimalism. Clean dials. Visible mechanical elements (often an open balance wheel at 6 o’clock). Sporty proportions without compromising refinement. Case sizes of 40-42.5mm—substantial but not overwhelming. Movements like the Sellita SW260 (38-hour power reserve) that prioritized reliability over complexity.

Freelancer was introduced for men in 2007, women in 2009. By 2026, it remains the brand’s most commercially successful contemporary collection—proof that Raymond Weil’s philosophy could evolve without losing coherence.

What made Freelancer remarkable wasn’t its initial success, however. It was how the collection became the platform for Raymond Weil’s most ambitious artistic collaborations.

In 2019, 12 years after Freelancer’s launch, the brand introduced Freelancer Jimi Hendrix—a limited edition of 500 pieces celebrating the 50th anniversary of Woodstock (1969). The watch featured a Fender Stratocaster design inspiration: a counterweight shaped like a left-handed Fender, 9 dot hour markers representing the 9 frets of a guitar, and the inscription “Music is My Religion.”

The design was estate-authenticated by the Hendrix estate—meaning the Hendrix family actively approved and endorsed the collaboration. This wasn’t merchandise bearing a dead icon’s name. This was genuine creative partnership between a watchmaker and the family preserving an artist’s legacy.

The commercial response was overwhelming. Collectors who might never have considered Raymond Weil suddenly wanted the Hendrix watch. The brand had proven something that only a few watch manufacturers ever accomplish: they could create products that transcended typical collector interest and entered mainstream artistic consciousness.

Following Hendrix, collaborations accelerated. Freelancer Basquiatbrought the bold, colorful aesthetics of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s artistic practice into watch form. Freelancer AC/DC celebrated the legendary rock band. Freelancer Les Paul honored the iconic Gibson guitar inspired by the “Black Beauty” 1953 model—with fret-shaped hour markers, tachymeter bezel, and guilloché motif resembling guitar strings.

These weren’t traditional watch collaborations. They were artistic partnerships between a watchmaker and creators whose legacies transcended their respective mediums.

The Mechanical Turn: Maestro and the Boldest Vision

In 2010, as Elie was fully integrating into product strategy, Raymond Weil made another decisive move: the Maestro Collection.

Where Freelancer represented minimalist modernism, Maestro represented a return to mechanical complexity—”entirely mechanical, complications-focused” watchmaking. The name itself—”Maestro,” a distinguished conductor or performer—signaled ambition: these watches would be orchestrated complexity, mechanical symphonies on the wrist.

For a decade, Maestro remained respected but relatively niche—a collection for serious mechanical watch enthusiasts who appreciated Raymond Weil’s technical capabilities.

Then, in 2019—as Elie was fully established as CEO—something extraordinary happened.

Raymond Weil, working with Apple Corps Limited (The Beatles’ company), created a series of limited-edition Beatles Maestro watches—four distinct timepieces, one for each Beatle.

The most iconic variant was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band—featuring the iconic drum motif on a black dial, yellow-gold electroplate accents, and the Beatles logo. The watch wasn’t just a product bearing the band’s name. It was an artistic statement that acknowledged the band’s cultural permanence and Raymond Weil’s understanding of music as philosophical foundation.

The result exceeded every commercial expectation. Every Beatles watch variant sold out immediately. Collectors who cared nothing about music—and many who cared nothing about watches—suddenly wanted Raymond Weil timepieces.

This success rippled through the brand’s strategy. If Beatles collaborations resonated this strongly, what other music icons could Raymond Weil celebrate? The company began developing partnerships with the estates of David Bowie (featuring photographer Terry O’Neill’s portrait on the caseback), Bob Marley (with Rastafarian colors and “Time Will Tell” inscription), Jimi Hendrix (the Maestro version, complementing the Freelancer edition), and others.

Each collaboration was genuine—meaning family estates approved, contributed, and benefited from partnership. Each watch told a story connecting Raymond Weil’s musical philosophy to specific artists whose legacies transcended their era.

By 2020, music collaborations had become central to Raymond Weil’s identity—not as marketing gimmicks, but as authentic artistic partnerships reflecting the brand’s core philosophy. Elie articulated this explicitly:

“I love The Beatles and their music. The Basquiat watch is proof that our brand can develop crazy timepieces, apart from refined, elegant timepieces.”

This statement revealed something essential about Elie’s leadership: he understood that Raymond Weil didn’t need to be one thing. The brand could be simultaneously classical and contemporary, elegant and bold, mechanical and accessible. The underlying philosophy—music, artistry, independence—could be expressed through completely different aesthetic languages.

Raymond Weil’s Breakthrough: Millesime GPHG Victory

For decades, Raymond Weil had operated successfully but in a kind of prestige shadow. The brand wasn’t prestigious enough for ultra-luxury collectors (Patek Philippe, Rolex, Omega territory). Yet it was somehow overlooked by contemporary enthusiasts who might have appreciated its independence and artistic vision.

In 2023—47 years after Raymond Weil’s founding and 9 years into Elie’s leadership—something changed.

The Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Genève (GPHG), the Swiss watch industry’s most prestigious awards body, announced the winner of the Challenge Prize for best watch under CHF 2,000.

The winner was Raymond Weil Millesime Automatic Small Seconds in silver dial.

The competitors it defeated were formidable: Kurono Tokyo (a contemporary microBrand darling), Studio Underdog (celebrated for design innovation), Seiko (the Japanese established giant), Nomos Glashütte (the prestige independent German manufacturer).

The Millesime win was significant not because Raymond Weil won aprize. The brand had been winning Baselworld recognition and retailer accolades for years. The significance was what the win represented: validation that Raymond Weil could compete at the highest contemporary design standards, even when facing brands with stronger marketing budgets and contemporary buzz.

The Millesime Collection itself embodied Elie’s philosophy: neo-vintage aesthetic with modern refinement. The name came from French wine terminology—”Millesime” means “vintage year,” suggesting wines, like watches, improve with time while honoring their specific moment of creation.

The watch was modest in ambition but radical in execution. A 39.5mm stainless steel case (with new 35mm variants launched in 2025 for smaller wrists). A slim 10.25mm profile. Drilled lugs. A grippy crown. Dial options in silver (the award-winning variant), salmon (warm vintage tone), and blue (contemporary option).

The movement was mechanical automatic—high-level hand finishing including perlage (striping) and Côte de Genève (Geneva waves). The strap was supple calf leather with vintage-inspired tones and contrasting stitching.

At a price below CHF 2,000, Millesime proved something Elie had always believed:

“Our aim is to offer refined timepieces at an accessible price. To get this prize in the ‘Challenge’ category means a lot because it’s where we have legitimacy and market share.”

The GPHG victory was a breakthrough moment—not because it validated Raymond Weil’s quality (collectors already knew this), but because it introduced the brand to a new generation of watch enthusiasts. Suddenly, Raymond Weil wasn’t an overlooked middle-market brand. It was an award-winning contemporary innovator.

The Fourth Generation and the Philosophy of Succession

By 2024, as Raymond Weil approached its 48th anniversary, something remarkable happened. Elie Bernheim made a public commitment that set his leadership apart from many contemporary family business leaders:

He committed to passing Raymond Weil to a fourth generation.

Not his children specifically—though they were the obvious candidates. But to the fourth generation of family members who could inherit not just a profitable business, but a philosophy. A set of values. A commitment to independence, artistic expression, and quality that transcended individual people or historical moments.

This wasn’t a casual statement. This was a deliberate declaration that Raymond Weil would not be sold to a conglomerate. It would not be consolidated into a larger luxury group. It would remain independent—owned by family members who understood that stewardship was as important as innovation.

Olivier, now in his 80s, represented the wisdom of the second generation. Elie embodied the contemporary energy of the third generation. And the fourth generation—his children or nieces/nephews—would carry forward the legacy with whatever innovations the 2030s and 2040s would demand.

This commitment meant something in the watch industry. In an era when independent brands were disappearing into conglomerates, when family businesses were being acquired by multinational luxury groups, when artisanal values were being replaced by financial optimization—Raymond Weil was choosing a different path.

The brand had proven over 48 years that independence could be commercially viable. That family leadership could drive innovation. That artistic philosophy could coexist with profitable business. That values could transcend quarterly earnings.

The Manufacturing Foundation: How Independence Actually Works

Most people assume that independence in watchmaking means smaller scale, lower quality, or compromised manufacturing. Raymond Weil proved something different.

In 1999, recognizing that long-term independence required technical self-sufficiency, the brand established a dedicated Research & Development Department in Lancy, Switzerland. This wasn’t a licensing arrangement or a quality-control function. This was genuine movement development infrastructure.

Partnering with Sellita (owned by Miguel Garcia, a Swiss movement specialist), Raymond Weil developed multiple in-house calibers that would define collections:

The RW1212 was named deliberately: “RW” for Raymond Weil, “1212” for the Lancy postal code. This movement featured an open balance wheel at 6 o’clock, 38-hour power reserve, and skeletonized dial variants. It was developed specifically to express Raymond Weil’s philosophy—showing mechanical architecture through sapphire crystal, celebrating the craft rather than hiding it.

The RW5200 was a modified ETA 7750 base, developed specifically for chronograph models (the Beatles Maestro, Jimi Hendrix Freelancer, and others). The 62-hour power reserve reflected Raymond Weil’s commitment to practical complications that actually served users.

The RW4250 powered women’s collections with equivalent finishing standards.

These weren’t mass-produced generic movements. Each was customized, finished, and regulated to Raymond Weil specifications. The perlage (striping), Côte de Genève (Geneva waves), and hand-finishing reflected the brand’s values: mechanical excellence expressed through visible artistry.

By 2026, Raymond Weil was producing approximately 200,000 watches annually—a substantial volume that proved independence didn’t mean minuscule scale. Sixty-plus employees across Geneva headquarters, R&D facilities, and retail locations supported this production.

The manufacturer operated with complete creative autonomy. No board of directors demanding cost reduction. No shareholders pressuring for efficiency gains. No conglomerate CEO imposing standardized production methods. Every decision was filtered through family wisdom, artistic vision, and long-term thinking.

The 50th Anniversary and What Comes Next

As 2026 approached—Raymond Weil’s 50th anniversary year—the brand occupied an extraordinary position in watchmaking.

Not prestigious by heritage standards (the brand was only 50 years old in an industry with 300-year-old houses). Not edgy by contemporary standards (the brand prioritized refined design over avant-garde experimentation). Yet genuinely respected among collectors who valued independence, artistry, and family stewardship.

The Millesime Collection’s GPHG 2023 victory had shifted perception. Younger collectors—who might have dismissed Raymond Weil as outdated or middle-market—suddenly recognized the brand as contemporary innovator.

The music collaborations (Beatles, Hendrix, Bowie, Marley, Basquiat) had proven that artistic authenticity resonated commercially. Partnership, not exploitation. Genuine collaboration with artist estates, not opportunistic licensing.

The Freelancer collection remained the brand’s most commercially successful contemporary line—proving that minimalist modernism and artistic expression weren’t contradictory.

The Maestro collection had evolved from niche mechanical offering to platform for ambitious artistic collaboration.

The Parsifal collection—introduced 35 years earlier—remained in production, validating that design excellence created longevity.

For the 50th anniversary (2026), Elie and his team were planning what would be most fitting: not nostalgic retrospective, but forward-looking innovation. The Millesime expansion included 35mm variants for smaller wrists and new dial colorways. The music collaborations continued exploring new artists. The manufacturing innovation persisted.

Most importantly, the fourth generation was being prepared. Elie’s commitment to family succession meant that Raymond Weil would continue beyond any single person. The knowledge transfer—that sacred transmission Olivier had described—would continue.

Why This Matters: Independence in the Consolidation Era

Raymond Weil’s story gains meaning not from what it has accomplished, but from what it represents in a specific historical moment.

The watch industry in 2026 is dominated by conglomerates. LVMH controls TAG Heuer, Zenith, Hublot, and others. Richemont owns Cartier, Patek Philippe (via family agreement), and others. The Swatch Group manufactures more watches than any other entity. Independent brands are vanishing into corporate portfolios.

In this context, Raymond Weil’s independence is radical.

The brand produces approximately 200,000 watches annually—a respectable number that most independent brands can only dream of. Yet it remains fully family-owned, with decision-making authority vested in family members who’ve grown up immersed in watchmaking philosophy.

This independence enables creative decisions that conglomerates would never make:

• Music collaborations that serve artistic vision rather than financial optimization
• Collections that take years to develop even if they’ll produce only hundreds of pieces (Maestro, Millesime)
• Pricing that reflects value creation rather than maximum extraction
• Aesthetic risks (Basquiat’s bold colorways, Hendrix’s unconventional design) that corporate boards would veto
• Long-term strategic thinking (fourth generation planning) rather than quarterly earnings pressure

These decisions are commercially viable precisely because the brand prioritizes values over growth. Elie articulated this explicitly when the Chanel investment rumors circulated: the brand would reject acquisition that compromised independence.

Independence isn’t nostalgia. It’s operational capability that enables the kind of creative excellence that conglomerates struggle to maintain.

The Philosophy: What Makes Raymond Weil Authentic

If you ask collectors why they choose Raymond Weil, you hear consistent themes:

It’s independent. In an industry dominated by conglomerates, there’s something refreshing about a brand that’s actually owned and led by family members who care about creative excellence more than quarterly earnings.

It’s artistic. The music philosophy isn’t marketing decoration. Every collection, every collaboration, carries genuine artistic vision. The Beatles watches matter because Raymond Weil understood the band’s cultural permanence. The Hendrix watch resonates because the design genuinely honors the artist’s legacy.

It’s accessible. You can buy a Raymond Weil watch for $1,500-$3,000 and own a mechanically sophisticated, artistically excellent, family-designed timepiece. You don’t need to be ultra-wealthy to access Swiss watchmaking quality.

It’s evolving. The brand isn’t resting on heritage. The Millesime victory proved Raymond Weil can innovate in contemporary design. The music collaborations prove the brand can partner authentically with contemporary artists.

It’s authentic. There’s no pretense. Elie isn’t claiming Raymond Weil is a 300-year-old heritage house. He’s saying: we’re a 50-year-old independent brand that makes excellent watches, celebrates music and art, and commits to family continuity. That’s enough.

The Legacy That Continues

Raymond Weil was founded by a 50-year-old former general manager who recognized an opportunity during an industry crisis. He didn’t have the resources of heritage houses. He didn’t have the marketing budgets of conglomerates. He had clarity of vision and commitment to artistic excellence.

His son-in-law, Olivier Bernheim, understood that watches needed stories. He positioned the brand around music—not as decoration, but as philosophical foundation. Every collection, every partnership, expressed this understanding.

Olivier’s son, Elie, inherited a successful brand and recognized that success enabled risk-taking. He authorized the Beatles collaboration, the Hendrix partnership, the Basquiat experiment, the GPHG Challenge Prize submission. He understood that artistic authenticity was commercially powerful.

And now, as the brand approaches its 50th anniversary, Elie is doing what great leaders do: he’s preparing the next generation. He’s committing to fourth-generation family succession. He’s ensuring that the knowledge, values, and artistic philosophy will continue beyond any single person.

This is the Raymond Weil story. It’s not about inventing revolutionary complications or claiming centuries of heritage. It’s about a family that believed—and continues to believe—that independence is a state of mind, and that belief, maintained across three generations with a fourth on the horizon, creates something durable and genuine in an industry increasingly defined by corporate consolidation.

The 50th anniversary approaches. The story continues.

While Raymond Weil built a family dynasty, F.P. Journe pursued pure technical innovation.