The Problem of Increasing Human Energy

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THE PROBLEM OF INCREASING HUMAN ENERGY

WITH SPECIAL REFERENCES TO THE HARNESSING OF THE SUN'S ENERGY.

by Nikola Tesla

Century Illustrated Magazine, June 1900

THE ONWARD MOVEMENT OF MAN—THE ENERGY OF THE MOVEMENT—THE THREE


WAYS OF INCREASING HUMAN ENERGY.

Of all the endless variety of phenomena which nature presents to our senses, there is none
that fills our minds with greater wonder than that inconceivably complex movement which, in its
entirety, we designate as human life; Its mysterious origin is veiled in the forever impenetrable
mist of the past, its character is rendered incomprehensible by its infinite intricacy, and its
destination is hidden in the unfathomable depths of the future. Whence does it come? What is
it? Whither does it tend? are the great questions which the sages of all times have
endeavored to answer.

Modern science says: The sun is the past, the earth is the present, the moon is the future.
From an incandescent mass we have originated, and into a frozen mass we shall turn.
Merciless is the law of nature, and rapidly and irresistibly we are drawn to our doom. Lord
Kelvin, in his profound meditations, allows us only a short span of life, something like six million
years, after which time the suns bright light will have ceased to shine, and its life giving heat
will have ebbed away, and our own earth will be a lump of ice, hurrying on through the eternal
night. But do not let us despair. There will still be left upon it a glimmering spark of life, and
there will be a chance to kindle a new fire on some distant star. This wonderful possibility
seems, indeed, to exist, judging from Professor Dewar's beautiful experiments with liquid air,
which show that germs of organic life are not destroyed by cold, no matter how intense;
consequently they may be transmitted through the interstellar space. Meanwhile the cheering
lights of science and art, ever increasing in intensity, illuminate our path, and marvels they
disclose, and the enjoyments they offer, make us measurably forgetful of the gloomy future.

Though we may never be able to comprehend human life, we know certainly that it is a
movement, of whatever nature it be. The existence of movement unavoidably implies a body
which is being moved and a force which is moving it. Hence, wherever there is life, there is a
mass moved by a force. All mass possesses inertia, all force tends to persist. Owing to this
universal property and condition, a body, be it at rest or in motion, tends to remain in the same
state, and a force, manifesting itself anywhere and through whatever cause, produces an
equivalent opposing force, and as an absolute necessity of this it follows that every movement
in nature must be rhythmical. Long ago this simple truth was clearly pointed out by Herbert
Spencer, who arrived at it through a somewhat different process of reasoning. It is borne out in
everything we perceive—in the movement of a planet, in the surging and ebbing of the tide, in
the reverberations of the air, the swinging of a pendulum, the oscillations of an electric current,
and in the infinitely varied phenomena of organic life. Does not the whole of human life attest
to it? Birth, growth, old age, and death of an individual, family, race, or nation, what is it all but
a rhythm? All life-manifestation, then, even in its most intricate form, as exemplified in man,
however involved and inscrutable, is only a movement, to which the same general laws of
movement which govern throughout the physical universe must be applicable.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs Notes, page 334, Photograph X.]

FIG. 1. BURNING THE NITROGEN OF THE ATMOSPHERE.

Note to Fig. 1.—This result is produced by the discharge of an electrical oscillator giving twelve million volts. The electrical
pressure, alternating one hundred thousand times per second, excites the normally inert nitrogen, causing it to combine with
the oxygen. The flame-like discharge shown in the photograph measures sixty-five feet across.

When we speak of man, we have a conception of humanity as a whole, and before applying
scientific methods to, the investigation of his movement we must accept this as a physical fact.
But can anyone doubt to-day that all the millions of individuals and all the innumerable types
and characters constitute an entity, a unit? Though free to think and act, we are held together,
like the stars in the firmament, with ties inseparable. These ties cannot be seen, but we can
feel them. I cut myself in the finger, and it pains me: this finger is a part of me. I see a friend
hurt, and it hurts me, too: my friend and I are one. And now I see stricken down an enemy, a
lump of matter which, of all the lumps of matter in the universe, I care least for, and it still
grieves me. Does this not prove that each of us is only part of a whole?

For ages this idea has been proclaimed in the consummately wise teachings of religion,
probably not alone as a means of insuring peace and harmony among men, but as a deeply
founded truth. The Buddhist expresses it in one way, the Christian in another, but both say the
same: We are all one. Metaphysical proofs are, however, not the only ones which we are able
to bring forth in support of this idea. Science, too, recognizes this connectedness of separate
individuals, though not quite in the same sense as it admits that the suns, planets, and moons
of a constellation are one body, and there can be no doubt that it will be experimentally
confirmed in times to come, when our means and methods for investigating psychical and
other states and phenomena shall have been brought to great perfection. Still more: this one
human being lives on and on. The individual is ephemeral, races and nations come and pass
away, but man remains. Therein lies the profound difference between the individual and the
whole. Therein, too, is to be found the partial explanation of many of those marvelous
phenomena of heredity which are the result of countless centuries of feeble but persistent
influence.

Conceive, then, man as a mass urged on by a force. Though this movement is not of a
translatory character, implying change of place, yet the general laws of mechanical movement
are applicable to it, and the energy associated with this mass can be measured, in accordance
with well-known principles, by half the product of the mass with the square of a certain
velocity. So, for instance, a cannon-ball which is at rest possesses a certain amount of energy
in the form of heat, which we measure in a similar way. We imagine the ball to consist of
innumerable minute particles, called atoms or molecules, which vibrate or whirl around one
another. We determine their masses and velocities, and from them the energy of each of these
minute systems, and adding them all together, we get an idea of the total heat-energy
contained in the ball, which is only seemingly at rest. In this purely theoretical estimate this
energy may then be calculated by multiplying half of the total mass—that is half of the sum of
all the small masses—with the square of a velocity which is determined from the velocities of
the separate particles. In like manner we may conceive of human energy being measured by
half the human mass multiplied with the square of the velocity which we are not yet able to
compute. But our deficiency in this knowledge will not vitiate the truth of the deductions I shall
draw, which rest on the firm basis that the same laws of mass and force govern throughout
nature.

Man, however, is not an ordinary mass, consisting of spinning atoms and molecules, and
containing merely heat-energy. He is a mass possessed of certain higher qualities by reason
of the creative principle of life with which he is endowed. His mass, as the water in an ocean
wave, is being continuously exchanged, new taking the place of the old. Not only this, but he
grows propagates, and dies, thus altering his mass independently, both in bulk and density.
What is most wonderful of all, he is capable of increasing or diminishing his velocity of
movement by the mysterious power he possesses by appropriating more or less energy from
other substance, and turning it into motive energy. But in any given moment we may ignore
these slow changes and assume that human energy is measured by half the product of man's
mass with the square of a certain hypothetical velocity. However we may compute this
velocity, and whatever we may take as the standard of its measure, we must, in harmony with
this conception, come to the conclusion that the great problem of science is, and always will
be, to increase the energy thus defined. Many years ago, stimulated by the perusal of that
deeply interesting work, Draper's "History of the Intellectual Development of Europe," depicting
so vividly human movement, I recognized that to solve this eternal problem must ever be the
chief task of the man of science. Some results of my own efforts to this end I shall endeavor
briefly to describe here.

I have observed the above effects so far only up to a limited distance of about six hundred
miles, but inasmuch as there is virtually no limit to the power of the vibrations producible with
such an oscillator, I feel quite confident of the success of such a plant for effecting transoceanic
communication. Nor is this all. My measurements and calculations have shown that it is
perfectly practicable to produce on our globe, by the use of these principles, an electrical
movement of such magnitude that, without the slightest doubt, its effect will be perceptible on
some of our nearer planets, as Venus and Mars. Thus from mere possibility interplanetary
communication has entered the stage of probability. In fact, that we can produce a distinct
effect on one of these planets in this novel manner, namely, by disturbing the electrical
condition of the earth, is beyond any doubt. This way of effecting such communication is,
however, essentially different from all others which have so far been proposed by scientific
men. In all the previous instances only a minute fraction of the total energy reaching the planet
—as much as it would be possible to concentrate in a reflector—could be utilized by the
supposed observer in his instrument. But by the means I have developed he would be enabled
to concentrate the larger portion of the entire energy transmitted to the planet in his instrument,
and the chances of affecting the latter are thereby increased many millionfold.

Besides machinery for producing vibrations of the required power, we must have delicate
means capable of revealing the effects of feeble influences exerted upon the earth. For such
purposes, too, I have perfected new methods. By their use we shall likewise be able, among
other things, to detect at considerable distance the presence of an iceberg or other object at
sea. By their use, also, I have discovered some terrestrial phenomena still unexplained. That
we can send a message to a planet is certain, that we can get an answer is probable: man is
not the only being in the Infinite gifted with a mind.

TRANSMISSION OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY TO ANY DISTANCE WITHOUT WIRES—NOW


PRACTICABLE—THE BEST MEANS OF INCREASING THE FORCE ACCELERATING THE
HUMAN MASS.

The most valuable observation made in the course of these investigations was the
extraordinary behavior of the atmosphere toward electric impulses of excessive electromotive
force. The experiments showed that the air at the ordinary pressure became distinctly
conducting, and this opened up the wonderful prospect of transmitting large amounts of
electrical energy for industrial purposes to great distances without wires, a possibility which, up
to that time, was thought of only as a scientific dream. Further investigation revealed the
important fact that the conductivity imparted to the air by these electrical impulses of many
millions of volts increased very rapidly with the degree of rarefaction, so that air strata at very
moderate altitudes, which are easily accessible, offer, to all experimental evidence, a perfect
conducting path, better than a copper wire, for currents of this character.

Thus the discovery of these new properties of the atmosphere not only opened up the
possibility of transmitting, without wires, energy in large amounts, but, what was still more
significant, it afforded the certitude that energy could be transmitted in this manner
economically. In this new system it matters little—in fact, almost nothing—whether the
transmission is effected at a distance of a few miles or of a few thousand miles.

While I have not, as yet, actually effected a transmission of a considerable amount of energy,
such as would be of industrial importance, to a great distance by this new method, I have
operated several model plants under exactly the same conditions which will exist in a large
plant of this kind, and the practicability of the system is thoroughly demonstrated. The
experiments have shown conclusively that, with two terminals maintained at an elevation of not
more than thirty thousand to thirty-five thousand feet above sea-level, and with an electrical
pressure of fifteen to twenty million volts, the energy of thousands of horse-power can be
transmitted over distances which may be hundreds and, if necessary, thousands of miles. I am
hopeful, however, that I may be able to reduce very considerably the elevation of the terminals
now required, and with this object I am following up an idea which promises such a realization.
There is, of course, a popular prejudice against using an electrical pressure of millions of volts,
which may cause sparks to fly at distances of hundreds of feet, but, paradoxical as it may
seem, the system, as I have described it in a technical publication, offers greater personal
safety than most of the ordinary distribution circuits now used in the cities. This is, in a
measure, borne out by the fact that, although I have carried on such experiments for a number
of years, no injury has been sustained either by me or any of my assistants.

But to enable a practical introduction of the system, a number of essential requirements are
still to be fulfilled. It is not enough to develop appliances by means of which such a
transmission can be effected. The machinery must be such as to allow the transformation and
transmission, of electrical energy under highly economic and practical conditions.
Furthermore, an inducement must be offered to those who are engaged in the industrial
exploitation of natural sources of power, as waterfalls, by guaranteeing greater returns on the
capital invested than they can secure by local development of the property.

From that moment when it was observed that, contrary to the established opinion, low and
easily accessible strata of the atmosphere are capable of conducting electricity, the
transmission of electrical energy without wires has become a rational task of the engineer, and
one surpassing all others in importance. Its practical consummation would mean that energy
would be available for the uses of man at any point of the globe, not in small amounts such as
might be derived from the ambient medium by suitable machinery, but in quantities virtually
unlimited, from waterfalls. Export of power would then become the chief source of income for
many happily situated countries, as the United States, Canada, Central and South America,
Switzerland, and Sweden. Men could settle down everywhere, fertilize and irrigate the soil with
little effort, and convert barren deserts into gardens, and thus the entire globe could be
transformed and made a fitter abode for mankind. It is highly probable that if there are
intelligent beings on Mars they have long ago realized this very idea, which would explain the
changes on its surface noted by astronomers. The atmosphere on that planet, being of
considerably smaller density than that of the earth, would make the task much more easy.

It is probable that we shall soon have a self-acting heat-engine capable of deriving moderate
amounts of energy from the ambient medium. There is also a possibility—though a small one—
that we may obtain electrical energy direct from the sun. This might be the case if the
Maxwellian theory is true, according to which electrical vibrations of all rates should emanate
from the sun. I am still investigating this subject. Sir William Crookes has shown in his
beautiful invention known as the "radiometer" that rays may produce by impact a mechanical
effect, and this may lead to some important revelation as to the utilization of the sun's rays in
novel ways. Other sources of energy may be opened up, and new methods of deriving energy
from the sun discovered, but none of these or similar achievements would equal in importance
the transmission of power to any distance through the medium. I can conceive of no technical
advance which would tend to unite the various elements of humanity more effectively than this
one, or of one which would more add to and more economize human energy. It would be the
best means of increasing the force accelerating the human mass. The mere moral influence of
such a radical departure would be incalculable. On the other hand if at any point of the globe
energy can be obtained in limited quantities from the ambient medium by means of a self-
acting heat-engine or otherwise, the conditions will remain the same as before. Human
performance will be increased, but men will remain strangers as they were.

I anticipate that any, unprepared for these results, which, through long familiarity, appear to me
simple and obvious, will consider them still far from practical application. Such reserve, and
even opposition, of some is as useful a quality and as necessary an element in human
progress as the quick receptivity and enthusiasm of others. Thus, a mass which resists the
force at first, once set in movement, adds to the energy. The scientific man does not aim at an
immediate result. He does not expect that his advanced ideas will be readily taken up. His
work is like that of the planter—for the future. His duty is to lay the foundation for those who
are to come, and point the way. He lives and labors and hopes with the poet who says:

Schaff' das Tagwerk meiner Hände,


Hohes Glück, dass ich's vollende!
Lass, o lass mich nicht ermatten!
Nein, es sind nicht leere Träume:
Jetzt nur Stangen, diese Bäume
Geben einst noch Frucht und
Schatten. [1]

1 Daily work—my hands'


employment,
To complete is pure enjoyment!
Let, oh, let me never falter!
No! there is no empty dreaming:
Lo! these trees, but bare poles
seeming,
Yet will yield both food and shelter!

Goethe's "Hope"
Translated by William Gibson, Com.
U. S. N.

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