A Chinese-Singaporean Scientist’s Quest to Revolutionize Aerospace Materials
From Singapore to Sheffield: A Chinese-Singaporean Scientist’s Quest to Revolutionize Aerospace Materials
In the gleaming labs of the University of Sheffield’s Advanced Resource Centre, Dr. Elaine Tan bends over a high-powered microscope, her eyes fixed on a thin sheet of aluminum alloy. The screen beside her glows with 3D models of molecular structures—data from months of experiments aimed at making airplane parts lighter, stronger, and more sustainable. At 38, this Chinese-Singaporean materials scientist has already led breakthrough research that’s caught the attention of Airbus and Rolls-Royce, two of the UK’s biggest aerospace giants. But her journey to this lab wasn’t easy: it involved overcoming doubts about her “foreign” expertise, balancing the demands of cutting-edge research with homesickness, and proving that a scientist from Singapore could solve problems that had stumped teams in the UK for years. For Elaine, her work isn’t just about science—it’s about showing that brilliance has no nationality, and that the best ideas come from daring to bridge cultures and perspectives.
A Childhood Curiosity, a Dream to Innovate
Elaine grew up in Singapore, the daughter of a mechanical engineer father and a math teacher mother. Her fascination with materials started at age 10, when she took apart an old radio with her dad and wondered why some parts rusted while others stayed strong. “He told me, ‘The answer is in the metal itself—what it’s made of, how it’s shaped,’” she recalls. That curiosity led her to study materials science at the National University of Singapore, where she graduated top of her class, and later to a PhD at MIT, where she focused on developing lightweight alloys for electric vehicles.
But Elaine had long been drawn to the UK’s aerospace industry. “Britain has a legacy of innovation in aviation—from the Concorde to modern jet engines,” she says. “I wanted to be part of that, to work on problems that affect how we travel and how we reduce our carbon footprint.” In 2016, she applied for a senior research fellowship at the University of Sheffield, which hosts one of Europe’s leading aerospace materials labs. The interview process was grueling: a panel of five professors grilled her on her research, her plans for collaboration, and whether she could “adapt to the UK’s research culture.” One professor even asked, “Do you think your work in Singapore is relevant to our aerospace needs here?”
Elaine didn’t back down. She presented data showing how her alloy designs—optimized for heat resistance and durability—could solve a major problem facing UK aerospace: reducing the weight of jet engine components to cut fuel use and emissions. “I told them, ‘Materials science is global. A good alloy works whether it’s tested in Singapore, the US, or Sheffield,’” she says. She got the job, but the doubt lingered—a reminder that as an Asian woman in a field dominated by white men, she’d have to work twice as hard to prove herself.
Battling Doubts, Breaking Barriers in the Lab
Elaine’s first project at Sheffield was ambitious: developing a new aluminum-lithium alloy that could replace traditional materials in airplane wings, reducing weight by 15% while increasing strength. The aerospace industry had been trying to perfect this for a decade, but previous attempts had failed—either the alloy was too brittle, or it was too expensive to mass-produce.
Her first six months were frustrating. Her team, which included three British researchers, was slow to embrace her ideas. “They’d say, ‘We’ve tried this before’ or ‘That’s not how we do things here,’” Elaine remembers. Once, a senior researcher dismissed her proposal to use a new heat-treatment method, saying it was “too unproven.” Instead of arguing, Elaine spent nights in the lab running small-scale tests, collecting data that showed her method made the alloy 20% less brittle. When she presented the results to the team, the senior researcher apologized. “That’s when they started to take me seriously,” she says.
Elaine also faced challenges outside the lab. She struggled with the UK’s long, dark winters, which made her homesick for Singapore’s year-round sunshine. She missed her family’s weekly dinners of chicken rice and laksa, and she often stayed up late video-calling her parents, who worried she was working too hard. “There were nights I’d cry into my takeaway curry, wondering if I’d made the right choice,” she admits. But she found solace in Sheffield’s small but vibrant Asian community—she joined a Singaporean food club, where she cooked otah-otah for friends, and she volunteered at a local school, teaching kids about materials science through simple experiments (like testing which materials float or sink).
By 2019, her hard work paid off. Her team’s alloy passed its first round of industrial tests with Airbus: it was lighter, stronger, and cheaper to produce than any previous version. Airbus invited Elaine to present her research at their headquarters in Toulouse, France—a rare honor for a university researcher. “When they told me they wanted to use our alloy in their next generation of planes, I called my parents right away,” she says. “My dad cried. He said, ‘I knew that little girl taking apart radios would do something big.’”
Turning Research Into Impact—For the Planet and the Community
Elaine didn’t stop at the lab. She wanted to ensure her research had real-world impact—both for the aerospace industry and for the environment. In 2020, she co-founded a startup, EcoAlloy Tech, with two Sheffield colleagues. The company’s mission is to scale up production of her aluminum-lithium alloy and make it available to smaller aerospace firms and even electric vehicle manufacturers, helping them reduce their carbon footprints.
Starting a business was a new challenge. Elaine had to learn about funding, marketing, and UK business laws—skills she’d never needed as a researcher. She spent weekends attending workshops, pitching to investors, and networking with industry leaders. “I’d go from analyzing molecular structures in the morning to negotiating contracts in the afternoon,” she laughs. But her scientific rigor helped: she used data to convince investors that her alloy could cut aerospace emissions by 10%—a selling point that won the startup a £2 million grant from the UK government’s Net Zero Innovation Portfolio.
Elaine also made it a priority to mentor young Asian scientists at Sheffield. She started a “Women in Materials Science” program, which pairs female PhD students with industry mentors, and she often talks to Asian students about overcoming imposter syndrome. “I tell them, ‘Your voice matters. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong here,’” she says. One of her mentees, a Chinese PhD student named Li Wei, now works at EcoAlloy Tech as a research engineer. “Dr. Tan showed me that I can be both Chinese and a leader in British science,” Li says. “She’s not just a scientist—she’s a role model.”
In 2022, Elaine was named one of the UK’s “Top 50 Women in Engineering” by the Women’s Engineering Society. She was also invited to speak at the COP27 climate conference in Egypt, where she talked about how materials science can help achieve net-zero goals. “Aerospace is responsible for 2.5% of global carbon emissions,” she told the audience. “Our alloy isn’t just a technical breakthrough—it’s a step toward a greener future.”
Today, Elaine splits her time between the university lab and EcoAlloy Tech’s offices in Sheffield’s Innovation District. Her alloy is set to be used in Airbus’s new A320neo aircraft, which will roll off the production line in 2025. She’s also working on a new project: developing a fully recyclable version of the alloy, which would further reduce waste in the aerospace industry.
On a sunny spring afternoon, Elaine stands in her lab, watching as a technician tests a sample of her alloy. The machine beeps, and the screen shows the alloy has withstood 10,000 cycles of stress—more than enough for a commercial airplane. She smiles, thinking of how far she’s come. “When I first moved here, I thought I’d have to choose between being Singaporean and being a British scientist,” she says. “But now I know I don’t have to choose. I’m both—and that’s my strength. My research bridges cultures, just like I do.”
She picks up a small piece of the alloy, turning it over in her hand. It’s light, almost weightless, but strong enough to hold up a plane. “This isn’t just metal,” she says. “It’s proof that when you dare to dream big—no matter where you’re from—you can change the world.”