Normally when you find yourself dressing in such extreme protective outfits, you’re guarding yourself against some kind of hostile environment: severe cold, pathogens, the vacuum of space. But in the clean room, the suit is designed to protect the space from you. You are the pathogen, threatening the valuable resources of computer chips waiting to be born: your hair follicles and your epidermal layers and the mucus swarming around you. From the microchip’s point of view, every human being is Pig Pen, a dust cloud of filth. Washing up before entering the clean room, you’re not even allowed to
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