 What was the “Piltdon Effect”?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, August 1958. "As chief engineer you're not carrying the ball," Piltdon went on savagely. "But Mr. Piltdon," remonstrated Feetch unsteadily under his employer's glare, "don't you remember? Our own Piltdon opener barely manages to open a can in eight point nine without chimes. "Dignity," pronounced Piltdon, "is for museums. I want it completely developed, engineered and tooled-up, ready for production. A designer had to dream at his board, investigate, search, build, test, compare, discard. He had always wanted to devote all his time to research, but Piltdon Opener had not given him that opportunity. What had happened, to the proud dream he once had, the dream of exploring uncharted engineering regions, of unlimited time to investigate and develop? Ah, well, thought Feetch straightening his thin shoulders, he had managed somehow to design a few good things during his twenty-five years with Piltdon. Sector type cutters, traversing several arcs at the same time, had seemed to offer the answer for a while, but the adjusting mechanism necessary to compensate for variable can sizes had been too complex to be practical. Twenty-five years of your life you put in with Piltdon, and he'd fire you just like that if you don't do the impossible. The Piltdon Company is built upon your designs and you get handed this deal!" "Piltdon ought to be rayed," he growled.
 The can-opener causing the cans to disappear.
 The ability to meet a tight deadline.  The can-opener causing the cans to disappear.  The deluge of cans falling from the sky.  Viral interest in a new product.