An Inventor’s Dilemma
When he sees the future
“Damn it!” Philo Farnsworth slammed his fist on the workbench, scattering papers and electronic components. “Another dead end.”
His friend, Albert, looked up from the corner. “Still no luck with inventing television, eh?”
Farnsworth slumped into a chair. “No luck at all. And I have been working on this since 1919… six years of painstaking effort! I’m beginning to think it’s impossible. Maybe the concept is fundamentally flawed.”
“You can’t give up now, Philo. You’re on the verge of something revolutionary.”
“Am I?” Farnsworth scoffed. “Or am I chasing a fool’s dream?”
Albert hesitated, then said, “What if I told you there was a way to know for certain?”
Farnsworth raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember I received a patent for a time machine?”
Farnsworth sat up. “Don’t tell me you got it working!”
“I did,” Albert gestured to the next room. “There is a working time machine right there! Why don’t you use it? Go to the future, and see if televisions exist. That’ll tell you if you’re on the right track.”
Farnsworth’s eyes brightened. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Albert spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the controls on his time machine. After a quick demo, Farnsworth was ready.
When he finally arrived in the future, Farnsworth found himself in a world he barely recognized. Strange horseless carriages zoomed by on paved streets. People walked with small rectangles held to their ears.
He peered into a nearby window and froze. Inside, a family sat motionless, eyes fixed on a large, flat-screen displaying moving images.
Farnsworth moved to another house, then another. Everywhere, people stared at screens, barely interacting.
After wandering for another hour in the future, Farnsworth was back in the present.
Albert looked up eagerly. “Well? Did you see televisions in the future?”
Farnsworth nodded slowly, his expression troubled.
“That’s fantastic!” Albert exclaimed. “You were right all along!”
But Farnsworth shook his head. “No, Albert. I was wrong.”
“What do you mean? Televisions existed, didn’t they?”
“They did,” Farnsworth said quietly. “But the cost… The people, Albert. They were like zombies, barely alive. Just staring at those screens.”
“But surely the benefits–”
“No,” Farnsworth cut him off. “No benefits could outweigh what I saw. I won’t be responsible for that future.”
“So what will you do?” Albert asked.
Farnsworth’s jaw set with determination. “I’m going to burn my research. All of it. And then I’m going to find a new field of study.”
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