Recent reports about nuclear fusion research progress lead me to wonder about how many contemporary researchers know about Philo T. Farnsworth's ideas and experiments in the field of controlled nuclear fusion. Farnsworth conceived the basic operating principles of electronic television as a teenager and went on to invent the first complete system of electronic television.
An October 7, 2013 BBC News article by Paul Rincon reported that during an experiment at NIF in late September, a milestone was reached as "the amount of energy released through the fusion reaction exceeded the amount of energy being absorbed by the fuel — the first time this had been achieved at any fusion facility in the world."
Philo's widow and biographer Elma G. Farnsworth wrote in her 1989 book Distant Vision: Romance and Discovery on an Invisible Frontier:
As he explained it to me, there are basically two ways to release the energy that binds atomic nuclei. In developing the atomic bomb, science had mastered a process called "fission," which splits the nucleus of heavy atoms such as uranium into lighter elements with an attendant release of energy.
Since the dawn of atomic theory, science has known that it might also be possible to release atomic energy by means of another type of reaction called fusion, which is the same process that powers our sun and all the stars in the universe. Fusion involves the binding, or fusing, of light nuclei, such as hydrogen, into a heavier atom, such as helium. Because the mass of the new helium nucleus is less than the mass of the two hydrogen nuclei which preceded, the difference is given of as energy, in a quantity expressed by Einstein's formula E=mc2.
Physicists have postulated since the 1930s that it might be possible to build a device that would harness fusion.
The solution to the riddle of controlled fusion is the holy graal of modern science. Once achieved, it will alter the course of history and reform the condition of all mankind. It will, in short, be an equivalent to the discovery of fire.
This is the quest that began to captivate the imagination of Phil Farnsworth at the end of World War II.
In 1947 on one occasion Philo conversed about his ideas on controlled nuclear fusion over the telephone with Einstein, who confirmed for him that his original conceptions were viable.
Throughout the ‘50s, Philo continued to formalize his math and develop operative concepts for his fusion device, a fusion reaction tube which he called the “Fusor.” By 1962, Elma was sure that fusion was every bit as real in Philo's mind as television had been during 1926 and 1927.
There was simply no question in his mind that the Fusor was going to work, and he talked frequently of the breakthrough that was only a few steps away.
On earth, Phil predicted that fusion power would soon replace every source of energy presently in use. The most obvious benefit of this development would be the end of the pollution that fouls our skies and from the burning of fossil fuels, and our streams from human waste. It would also eliminate the dangers of nuclear waste from the fission reactors in use today.
Once the Fusor was perfected, he figured it would be a relatively simple matter to employ it as a star drive.
In 1953 during a family vacation, Elma was behind the wheel of the car when Philo made an unforgettable announcement. "'I've figured out a way to control fusion!' he said, with a note of wonder at the enormity of what he was saying." His son Russell asked, "More important than television?" Philo explained how such an accomplishment would furnish the world with a very cheap, almost unlimited source of power. ". . . I'm going to have to be very sure of myself before I let this information out."
The Farnsworth method of controlling a nuclear-fusion reaction is quite different from any of those financed by the Atomic Energy Commission. He proposed to contain a plasma (a high temperature, ionized plasma-separated gas composed of positive ions and negative electrons) by inertia within a minute structureless volume, using a self-generating electrical field. (Every other process makes use of magnetics for plasma containment!)
Farnsworth's company had been acquired by the International Telephone and Telegraph Company (ITT) in 1949. Elma wrote: "The Farnsworth Company and ITT headquarters in New York had put their collective heads together and decided that if Phil was so sure he had a good idea, perhaps they should put some money into it and give him a chance to prove it."
When the start-up plans were finalized, Philo and his associate Frederick R. 'Fritz' Furth decided it was time to file a patent. The Farnsworths took a train to Washington, D.C., where they were greeted by Philo's mathematical expert 'Doc' Salinger and patent attorney George Gust.
The head patent examiner had invited his top mathematical/atomic expert to sit in on this meeting. After Phil had finished his explanations, this man said he was sorry to say he didn't understand this concept. His superior said: "Let me remind you that never in all the patents filed by Mr. Farnsworth have we found it necessary to reject one. I think if he says he had patentable material, then he probably has. It is up to us to be able to evaluate it."
During the 1950s and 1960s, conventional wisdom maintained that the only way fusion could be attained was by heating the fusible materials to extraordinary temperatures, on the order of many millions of degrees. Even today, multi-billion dollar experiments are trying to duplicate the conditions at the very center of our sun, in order to strip the like-charged atomic nuclei of their natural tendency to repel each other. Only by overcoming this natural repulsion can fusion be attained. Scientists since the 1950s have attempted to produce fusion by a method called "magnetic confinement," which employs enormous magnets to contain and compress the fusion fuel. But heating the particles to high enough temperatures to achieve the intended effect requires enormous amounts of energy, and the effect can be sustained only for tiny fractions of a second.
Phil's approach to fusion was very much analogous to his approach to television thirty-three years earlier.
As Phil recognized instantly the futility of mechanical scanning, and thus devised electronic scanning, so he had recognized the futility of magnetic confinement.
He had already chosen Gene Meeks as his special assistant and George Bain, an electronics engineer, as project chief under his direction.
To produce the fusion reaction, he would need tritium and deuterium, which required a special permit from the Atomic Energy Commission.
By the end of 1959, Phil had made and discarded several Fusor models. He then progressed to a design that appeared to have considerable merit. This was a spherical metal enclosure with six pairs of opposing electron guns, arranged in the form of a dodecahedron with a hollow spherical abode having twelve conical orifices disposed interspersed radially between the guns and an "electron collection" system.
On Friday, October 7th, 1960, in a small basement room, the Fusor was assembled with its bell jar and hooked up to the vacuum and power systems.
At sufficiently high vacuum, power was applied and gradually raised until the power supply's maximum was reached. A bright glow within the Fusor increased in intensity as the voltage was increased. When a magnet was placed against the bell jar in line with the orifice of the Fusor, a gas-like flame was drawn out of the center of the structure to a length of about one inch. This proved beyond a doubt that a plasma had been formed, as a natural gas would not have been affected! Phil, Fritz, George, and Gene were witnesses to this major achievement.
The next morning, Saturday October 8, 1960, deuterium was admitted for the first time, and a run was started. Soon after voltage was applied, a Geiger counter placed adjacent to the bell jar began registering counts which increased progressively as voltage was increased until the counter pointer was driven off its top scale! Just what was causing the intense radiation — x-ray, gamma radiation and/or neutrons — could not be determined.
The following Monday, when the plant's supply room was opened, a sheet of lead was obtained to shield the Geiger counter, preventing x-ray and gamma radiation from entering the counter and permitting only neutrons to register. A deuterium-charged run was made and a small neutron count recorded. The neutron count increased as the voltage increased. As the power-supply voltage was quite limited, the neutron count was also quite limited.
The Mark 1-Mod.0 was declared a huge success. (A major change in the geometry of the Fusor was designated as "Mark" with a Roman numeral, and minor modifications as "Mod" followed by an Arabic numeral.)
To delve into Phil's "electrostatic inertial confinement" would entail explaining the details of the Fusor's operation, but such terminology as "virtual cathode," "permeable anode" and "force-fields" would only confuse the reader. Suffice it to say that Phil intended to employ the special properties of atomic particles in effect to contain themselves. These were the very properties that he had first discovered when he learned the source of the mysterious glow in his multipactor tubes.
Elma Farnsworth explained that the ultimate goal of all fusion research is "the reaction which, once started, would continue indefinitely under its own power."
A January 1961 New York Times article by Gene Smith reported that "Dr. Farnsworth's work is said to involve an electrostatic process in which clouds of electrons would confine the hydrogen atoms in a small area for the actual fusion process . . . The heart of his unit is a metal ball about half-way between the size of a basketball and a softball. The fuel itself, reportedly tritium, a form of heavy hydrogen, is located in the center of this ball and measures no more than a teaspoon. Yet once in action it is said to produce tremendous power."
A Fort Wayne, Indiana Journal-Gazette article by Ernest Williams quoted Farnsworth's commentary at a lecture the previous September:
He visualized a high-energy power pack, capable of being housed in the average-sized living room, which could generate enough power to supply the energy requirements of a city the size of Fort Wayne.
The progress of Philo's research from 1962 through 1966 is summarized in Distant Vision with Elma mentioning her husband's "ever-worsening health situation."
The work had been going on for almost five years now, and there was little question but that Phil was able to produce fusion, as evidenced by the prodigious neutron counts the Fusor could produce. These neutrons were proof that atoms were being fused together, since the extra neutron was one of the by-products of the reaction. After one test run of the Mark II, Phil reported that "a neutron count of 1.3 X 109 per second (1.3 billion neutrons) was obtained for more than one minute. The operation was stable and could be controlled by the operator."
Elma described the problems with the project in 1966.
Even as his determination increased, so did his mistrust of ITT and its intentions. Phil harbored great hopes that fusion would be used for the benefit of all mankind, but he doubted that the directors of ITT shared his humanitarian intentions. ITT being a highly profit-oriented organization, it was naive of Phil to expect them to go along with his philanthropic ideas. Despite his reservations about ITT's ultimate intentions, Phil continued to try to solve the problems in the Fusor.
The problem was of course one of the highest technical order, but perhaps it could be explained in simple terms: in producing a fusion reaction, Phil had created what amounted to a miniature man-made star, around which formed a multi-layered electrostatic force field. The problem was that, once the reaction was started, the force field prevented more fuel from getting into the center of the reactor core. Without additional fuel, the star simply burned out.
In the summer of 1966 Philo and his associates worked on his second fusion patent.
He was happy in his belief that at last Hans and Fritz had finally grasped an understanding of his new math. Together they worked for the better part of a week on the patent claims. Finally, at a critical point concerning one of Phil's pivotal equations, he realized that they had completely missed the vital point of his concept.
With this disheartening realization, Phil closed his briefcase, arose from his chair and announced, "I have given you all the material you need to finish this patent. Now I am going home and get drunk!"
An attempt to complete a planned article written by Philo for the Journal of the Franklin Institute also ended in frustration. Philo's dictation was typed by Elma and the pages were sent to Fritz Furth and Bob Hirsch (Bob had joined the fusion staff in 1964) so that they could "put it in shape to publish." Elma reported that Philo again was left bewildered. "He said that they had revised his math so it would fit into the accepted grooves of their own ideas."
Philo eventually decided to try to complete the fusion project at Brigham Young University. Former fusion group members agreed to join the new company, including George Bain and Gene Meeks. The fusion patents belonged to ITT and were not offered for sale, which meant that ITT executives would have complete control over the results of Philo's further work. Extensive preparations were made but eventually the planned new enterprise "came tumbling down around our ears," as chronicled by Elma.
There were insurmountable financial difficulties, a predicament suggesting the ineffectual structure of the world's economic system in relation to a visionary scientist such as Philo T. Farnsworth (1906-1971). Another example of contemporary human social dysfunction is the ongoing crisis at Fukushima, an environmental disaster for all of humanity and not only the people of Japan.
For more information, visit philotfarnsworth.com.
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