Lost in translation: How one engineer learned to speak CFO – Chapter 1

Synopsis

Building a simulation business case isn’t only about having the best technology, it’s about explaining its value in a language decision‑makers understand. Marcus wasn’t trying to change his company. He just wanted better tools to do his job. A simulation platform that could model the complex thermal-electrical interactions his current software couldn’t handle. The kind of technology that would turn weeks of guesswork into days of certainty.

He had the technical proof. He had the vendor demos. He even had a business case, at least he thought he had. What he didn’t have was the ability to speak CFO.

This story follows an engineer who discovered that translating simulation capabilities into financial outcomes like ROI, NPV, and payback period is what turns promising ideas into approved investments.

This is a fictional story, with fictional characters working for a fictional company, but it’s built on real experiences. From engineers in various industries including automotive, aerospace, marine, heavy equipment and industrial machinery, and dozens of others who’ve fought the same battle. Engineers who learned that speaking two languages fluently, technical and financial, isn’t selling out.

Chapter 1: The Language Barrier

The conference room felt smaller than usual. Marcus watched the CFO’s finger trace down the spreadsheet on the projected screen, stopping at a number that made his stomach tighten.

“€47,000 for a software license?” The CFO looked up. “Help me understand what we’re getting for that.”

Marcus had prepared for this. He’d spent two weeks building his case, documenting every technical advantage of the system simulation platform. He clicked to his first slide, showing a colorful diagram of interconnected components.

“The multi-domain modeling capabilities alone would revolutionize our workflow,” he began, warming to his topic. “We can simulate mechanical, hydraulic, thermal, and electrical systems simultaneously, all in one environment. Right now, we’re using four different tools that don’t talk to each other.”

The CFO nodded politely. Marcus took it as encouragement.

“And the ready-to-use libraries with over 5,000 validated components. Pneumatic systems, electromagnetic actuators, thermal management, battery systems. We wouldn’t have to build everything from scratch anymore.” He clicked through slides showing the library interface. “Plus, the FMI standard support means we can co-simulate with our 3D CAE tools, and the Modelica integration gives us…”

“Marcus.” The CFO’s voice was patient but firm. “In euros. What does that mean in euros?”

He blinked. “Well, the time savings from having integrated multi-physics in one platform would be significant. We could run thermal-electrical coupling analyses that currently take us weeks to set up across multiple software packages. The scalable model complexity means we can start with simple models early in the design cycle, before we even have CAD geometry, and then…”

“How much money does that save us?”

The room went quiet. Marcus felt heat rising in his neck. He had charts showing simulation accuracy improvements, graphs comparing the platform’s advanced modeling techniques for rigid and flexible body dynamics, a whole section on how the tool could handle both low- and high-frequency phenomena in their electric powertrains.

What he didn’t have was an answer to that question.

“I’d need to… calculate that,” he managed.

The engineering director (Marcus’s boss) shifted in his seat. The CFO closed the laptop.

“Come back when you can tell me what we’re buying,” she said. Not unkindly, but final. “Right now, I’m looking at a €47,000 expense with no clear return. That’s not a decision I can defend.”

“Come back when you can tell me what we’re buying.”

CFO

Marcus walked back to his desk in a daze. Three months of evening research, comparison matrices, technical evaluations: dismissed in twelve minutes. He slumped into his chair and stared at the simulation model on his screen, a beautiful multi-physics representation of their new electric powertrain concept that had taken him weeks to build in the trial version. Thermal management, battery dynamics, motor control: all integrated, all interacting in real-time.

Beautiful. Useless. Apparently.

His colleague Stefan rolled his chair over. “Rough meeting?”

“They don’t get it.” Marcus gestured at his screen. “This tool could transform how we work. We’re designing electric powertrains with the same process we used for conventional transmissions. The complexity is exploding, we need to analyze thermal-electrical coupling, battery state-of-charge interactions, regenerative braking dynamics. We can’t hire fast enough, and they’re worried about the cost of a single license?”

Stefan nodded slowly. “What did the CFO say exactly?”

“She wanted to know what we’re getting ‘in euros.'” Marcus made air quotes, frustration bleeding through. “I showed her the multi-domain capabilities, the comprehensive libraries, the FMI standard support for tool integration…”

“In euros, though. What’s it worth in euros?”

Marcus stared at him. “You sound like her.”

“Maybe she has a point.” Stefan leaned back. “Look, I’ve been here longer than you. I’ve seen brilliant technical ideas die in that conference room. You know what survives? The ones that speak their language. You need to convince them about the simulation business case”

“I’m an engineer, not an accountant.”

“You’re an engineer who wants a €47,000 tool approved.” Stefan shrugged. “Your call which language matters more right now.”

That night, Marcus couldn’t let it go. He opened his laptop at home, staring at the rejection like it was a technical problem to solve. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A problem. Just not the kind he was trained for.

Three hours later, he’d filled a notebook with scribbled concepts. The core idea was starting to crystallize: every engineering hour the simulation tool saved had a cost. Every design iteration it eliminated had a cost. Every physical prototype it replaced had a cost.

Costs he could count. Costs he could put in euros.

He thought about the current project, the electric powertrain integration. The team had just ordered their third round of physical prototypes because the analytical models couldn’t predict the thermal interactions accurately enough. Each prototype: €12,000. Three weeks lead time. And they’d probably need a fourth round.

With the integrated thermal-electrical simulation capabilities, they could have caught those thermal management issues virtually, weeks earlier, before committing to hardware.

Marcus started a new spreadsheet, ‘simulation business case.xlsx’. Not technical comparisons this time. Numbers the CFO would recognize.

By 2 AM, he had something. Rough, probably wrong in places, but something. He’d identified three areas where the simulation tool would save measurable time: concept validation (using early-stage models before CAD geometry existed), integration testing (multi-domain co-simulation replacing sequential analysis), and calibration optimization (virtual testing replacing physical prototype iterations).

He’d estimated hours saved per project phase. Multiplied by the average engineering hourly rate. Added the prototype cost reductions.

The number that emerged made him sit back: €180,000 in potential savings over the first year. From a €47,000 investment.

He immediately doubted everything. Was he being too optimistic? Were his assumptions valid? Would the CFO laugh him out of the room for amateur financial analysis?

But then he remembered her words: “Come back when you can tell me what we’re buying.”

At least now he had an answer. In euros.

The next morning, Marcus caught his engineering director in the hallway. “I want to take another run at the simulation business case.”

His boss looked skeptical. “Marcus, the CFO was pretty clear.”

“I know. That’s why I spent last night learning to speak her language.” He pulled out his laptop. “Give me five minutes.”

They found an empty meeting room. Marcus walked through his analysis, hands slightly shaking, waiting for the dismissal.

Instead, his boss leaned forward. “Where did you learn to build this?”

“Internet. YouTube. Some finance blogs.” Marcus laughed nervously. “Probably got half of it wrong.”

“The methodology is rough, but the thinking…” His boss scrolled through the spreadsheet. “This is what she wanted to see. This is how they make decisions upstairs.”

“So I should request another meeting?”

His boss was quiet for a moment, considering. “Not yet. Your numbers are directional, but they need to be bulletproof. If you’re serious about this, I can connect you with someone in finance who can help you refine the model. But Marcus…” He looked up. “This takes time. Real analysis. Are you willing to put in that work for a software tool?”

“It’s not about the tool, it’s about how we work.”

Marcus

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