How Linear Labs and Brad Hunstable Are Revolutionizing The Electric Motor Industry

The running joke in the Hunstable family was that Fred Hunstable never knew that garages were where you parked your cars. Instead, they served as places for the nuclear and electrical engineer to tinker and invent. Growing up in Granbury under the tutelage of his father, oldest son Brad was fascinated by technology.

As a young boy, he wanted to be an astronaut. Then, he began learning how to program on a RadioShack TRS-80. When he was 12, he developed a computer bulletin board system called Dark Realms where users could log onto a host computer through a modem to participate in chat rooms, message boards, and games. 

It was a Frankenstein arrangement of hard drives, modems, and PC parts, says Fred, who handled the hardware while his son worked on the software and ran the business. “I had to be creative, figure out how to market it and what products were on there,” Brad says. “People had questions, so I was on call and had to go into the chat rooms.

I was the customer service representative.”

What Makes Linear Labs’ Motors So Unique?

Electric motors first came on the scene in the early 1800s. Like many new inventions, they were enhanced in the years that followed, but there hasn’t been a significant breakthrough for more than a century. With his son Brad, Fred Hunstable–an inventor who holds more than 75 patents–was the first to build and test an entirely new methodology in electric motors and generators in 120 years.

With the new motors, advanced controllers, high-performance software, and machine learning, Linear Labs is able to unlock at least two times the torque (force) while lowering electrical consumption by up to 40 percent. The impact goes beyond sustainability, Brad says. “I love clean energy, but I also like doing things that are smarter, cheaper, and good for business,” he says. “The goal is to get this technology in the right industries and applications so we can improve energy utilization.”

Along with sparking an entrepreneurial drive that persists to this day, the experience and a shared love of inventing ultimately led to another father-son collaboration–one that is set to transform electrification. The two were on a trip to South Africa in 2017 when they were struck by the lack of infrastructure.

It prompted them to wonder if they could create a motor with enough torque to provide electricity and access to clean water for those who lived in the villages. “My belief was we could be a part of that equation to help people,” Brad says.

They put their collective brainpower to work and began experimenting with an old windmill that used a shaft that moved up and down to pump out fresh water for cows. What if something like that could be used to generate electricity? Through trial and error, they eventually discovered a way to leverage the up-and-down motion of the shaft to do just that. 

“That’s why we’re called Linear Labs,” Brad says. “Our vision was to bring clean water and electricity to rural Africa and South America with one device.

It led to an important discovery in motor topology, resulting in the world’s most efficient, highest-torque motors and generators.”

The implications are staggering. About 50 percent of the world’s electricity passes through electric motors. Global robotics and computer science guru Henrik Christensen called the Hunstables’ invention “the holy grail in electric motors.”

Since Linear Labs was founded in 2018, the company has raised £20 million to fund operations.

So far, the biggest roadblock has been convincing prospective customers that the innovative motor isn’t too good to be true. “The most difficult challenge has been skepticism about our motor’s performance,” Brad says. “We have developed a new technology that the market has never seen before. Our electric machines provide twice as much torque when compared to the best motors today for the same size, weight, and input energy. The even, high-torque output allows designers to eliminate gear reduction.

This is an incredible achievement, but one that most don’t believe.”

As a West Point cadet, there comes a time when a decision must be made. Before beginning their junior year at the academy, nestled along the Hudson River in New York, cadets must choose whether to stay the course or transfer credits to another university. Staying means taking an oath to serve on active duty in the U.S.

Army.

A decision to stick it out at West Point turned out to have life-changing ramifications for Brad Hunstable.

This was the decision Brad Hunstable was wrangling with the night before starting his junior year. “It was typical of everybody who was there,” he says. “I was on the fence and really struggling with it. I called my dad, and he said, ‘I would love for you to stay; the long-term benefit is good. But if you want to come home, it’s your decision.’ He communicated what he thought I should do but told me it was my life–and my call.

That freed me to make the decision openly with my heart. I decided I was going to stick it through.”

Hunstable had always wanted to attend West Point. After securing a recommendation from former U.S.

Congressman Charles Stenholm and surviving an intense medical screening that found remnants of a heart murmur he had since infancy–which almost disqualified him–he was accepted. The experience set the stage for every facet of his life. 

Just making it through the academy is an accomplishment. The four-year process is laced with strenuous physical and academic challenges.

During Hunstable’s ‘plebe’ year, first-year cadets were not allowed to speak outside their rooms or at meals and had to be able to recite news from the front page of The New York Times. He says as many as 40 cadets quit after the first day. By graduation, what began as a class of about 1,200 had dwindled to roughly 800.

His Army service assignment took him to Columbus, Ohio.

While there, he attended The Ohio State University, earning an MBA in engineering and industrial management, taking night classes then getting up at 4 a.m. to go to work. All the while, he was raising a newborn daughter with his wife, April, whom he had met three months before leaving for West Point.

“I had some dexterity from my military experience, but it was stressful,” Hunstable says. “My wife was key; you can’t do something like that without someone helping you. She was gracious enough with a new baby to allow me to go to school.

I knew I was going to get out and that I’d be better positioned in the business world to at least understand how it worked. You must make an investment in certain things for a payoff later. In my experience, the most successful people are the ones that can delay satisfaction for something in the future.”

His theory manifested again in 2007.

Hunstable had been working for about a year as an engineering development manager with Ross Perot Jr.’s Hillwood when he decided to take a chance on a dream. An internet video startup side hustle called Ustream, which he developed with fellow West Point grad Johnny Ham, was showing promise, and the duo went to San Francisco to see if there was any “there” there.

At the time, YouTube was rising to prominence with recorded and on-demand videos. Hunstable came up with the idea of building a live version. “I was young, and I knew nothing about fundraising or about Silicon Valley,” he recalls. “I went to Ross Perot Jr. and told him I was going to leave Hillwood and that I was thankful for such an incredible organization.

He ended up being one of my first investors.”

Fred Hunstable’s first collaboration with his son was a computer bulletin board system that Brad developed at the age of 12.

With Ustream, Hunstable envisioned a content creation platform similar to the popular and fast-growing technology that’s readily available today. He began by experimenting with his brother Nathan’s band, Venture, which opened for established acts like Godsmack. The band had been using a webcam to stream its concerts.

“With MySpace, my brother had fans all over the world,” Hunstable says. “He was the bassist.

People who couldn’t come see live shows could watch videos and experience concerts live. I would sneak in a backpack, a big camera with a cord, a 3G card, and a laptop, and I would get in the middle of the crowd. I had an earpiece in, and I would talk to my co-founders, asking how it looked.

Then I would go into the bathroom and secretly adjust the settings to stream it live.”

Finding Meaning After Tragedy

After Brad Hunstable went public with his son Hayden’s suicide, he heard from people around the country who shared their own experiences. Wanting to do what they could to help others, the Hunstables created a nonprofit called Hayden’s Corner to spread awareness of youth suicide. They also produced a short film, Almost Thirteen, which shares information about warning signs. “I got a letter from a guy who said he talked to his daughter about suicide, and she told him that she was depressed,” Hunstable says. “Two months later, she tried to kill herself by taking pills.

She had organ failure, but she somehow made it. He called me and thanked me for saving his daughter’s life. I told him I hadn’t, but I appreciated the gesture.

He said, ‘No. At the last second, my daughter came downstairs and told what she’d done. Had I not had those talks with her I don’t think she would still be here.'”

As they strived to get their company off the ground, Hunstable and Ham hung a picture of YouTube co-founders Steve Chen and Chad Hurley on the wall of their office to serve as inspiration.

Gyula Feher, a native of Hungary who Hunstable met at a tech conference, became a third partner in Ustream. For six months, they canvassed firms along Sand Hill Road, the epicenter of venture capital in Silicon Valley.

“We had a little suitcase with cameras, and we would set up meetings,” Hunstable says. “We’d walk from one venture capital firm to the next, then the next one, etc. We’d have a taxi drop us off and start walking up the hill to our meetings.

It was 50 no’s and one yes.”

The one yes came from Ted Wang, an attorney who agreed to take a small stake of equity in exchange for making the introductions to get the venture off the ground. Soon, things began to take off, and funds began to flow. Ustream closed its Series A funding at £10 million.

The Series B garnered nearly £60 million. After a half-year away from his family, Hunstable was able to start crisscrossing the Rocky Mountains each week, flying into San Francisco on a Monday and returning to April and their kids on the weekends.  

At its peak, Ustream had 350 employees, attracted between 60 million and 80 million views per month, and had its fingerprints all over iconic pop culture and historical moments. It was a part of the paparazzi chasing after Britney Spears in 2006 throughout Malibu.

In 2013, Ustream controlled as much as 4 percent of the world’s internet traffic during a live stream of Sony’s launch of PlayStation 4. A student during the 2007 shooting at Virginia Tech University streamed the horrific event in real time. And, in 2008, Ustream became the first company to live stream video through mobile devices, using President Barack Obama’s inauguration as the ideal vehicle to do so. 

Ustream’s meteoric rise and pioneering innovation led to the creation of platforms such as Twitch and Skype, forever reshaping how people consume content.

Big industry players took note. In 2016, Ustream was acquired by IBM as part of the IBM Cloud Video division for more than £150 million. “It created generational wealth for many team members,” Hunstable says. “That was incredibly rewarding.” 

He officially exited Ustream in 2017, the same year as that fateful trip to South Africa and the spark of what would become his next big thing. 

Brad’s father, Fred Hunstable (left) is a prolific inventor who holds more than 75 patents–and even more pending.

Hunstable gestures to a tattoo on his arm. It’s a replica of the last time his son, Hayden, wrote his name on a homework assignment.

On April 17, 2020, less than a week before his 13th birthday, Hayden took his own life. Hunstable says the social isolation of the pandemic had a devastating impact on his son. 

“I remember just spinning around in a circle, just trying to process,” he says of that tragic day. “It was so beautiful outside, but there was a storm happening all around me. The doctors called the time of death, and I wanted to just grab them and tell them not to stop.

There were 20 doctors standing there who were all in shock. 

“I began walking down the hallway toward my family,” he continues. “I struggled with when to tell them. My wife was bawling, looking at me, and waiting for me to give the answer. I looked at them and said, ‘He didn’t make it.'”

Hunstable had been away from the house for just about 30 minutes that morning.

He kissed Hayden on the forehead before leaving, only to return shortly later to the chaos of what had transpired in his son’s closet, where Hayden’s younger sister found him.

“The person you were dies, and you become somebody new,” Hunstable says, tears welling up in his eyes. “I wasn’t an awful person before, but my priorities in life are much clearer today. 

“In business, we can get in the mode of running companies and trying to get to the next stage of building a product and traveling to meet customers,” Hunstable explains. “Sometimes you don’t stop enough to appreciate the beauty in life.”

Struggling to cope with the isolation of Covid, Hunstable’s son, Hayden, took his own life shortly before his 13th birthday.

He and his family launched a nonprofit to help others learn from their grief. (See sidebar on the opposite page.) Through it all, he still had to try to guide Linear Labs through its early stages. “I went through some bad PTSD. I was having nightmares that I had to work through–it was tough,” he says. “How do you help your family heal when you have to heal yourself–on top of having a startup company and trying to keep it surviving during the middle of COVID lockdowns, inflation, and funding crises in the markets? 

“It was hard keeping the wheels on the bus,” Hunstable says. “The only thing I could do was continue to look inside myself and believe that there was something bigger than what I could understand in this world. Without faith, I don’t know how I would have gotten there.

I’ve concluded that Hayden is OK. We may not be, but he is.”

Former EY partner Debra Von Storch got to know Hunstable when he was honored in the firm’s 2019 Entrepreneur Of The Year program. “Brad has very grand aspirations, but it’s in the spirit of really helping others,” she says. “He is very humble but brilliant and driven. Normally, you don’t put all of that together with humility.

What he has gone through with his trials and tribulations to help others despite his pain is remarkable.”

Hunstable still has sights set on returning to South Africa one day to bring water and clean energy to villages. But the possibilities of what he and his father are creating with Linear Labs are much bigger.

“I believe the technology we built can have an impact on the global energy landscape,” Hunstable says. “Energy is increasingly finite. It comes with some costs–pollution, scarcity, it’s used in war as a weapon, and people die because they don’t have access to energy.

I believe the technology we built can be a part of that solution.”

After starting with light electric vehicles, the innovative motors have been modified for larger industrial markets, including wind turbines. Through it all, Hunstable strives to keep things in perspective.

“I love Linear Labs, and I love trying to create economic value to solve cool problems. But life is so much more than that.

If you don’t have your family and your health, nothing else beyond that matters.”