When the New York Times Said Manned Flight Was a Million Years Away, How Quickly It Was Proved Wrong

One of my favorite themes over the years has been the unreliability of experts. You can read a batch of examples here in my 2007 blog post "Experts don't always know what they are talking about." Most of these examples are quite amusing. Would that all proclamations were  harmless and amusing.

Da Vinci's design for a flying machine.

Nevertheless, I just learned a new one about human flight, and I think you'll find this entertaining. 

In October 1903, the New York Times published one of the most famously wrong editorials in journalistic history. Titled “Flying Machines Which Do Not Fly,” it confidently declared that a practical flying machine would require “the combined and continuous efforts of mathematicians and mechanicians in from one million to ten million years.”

No doubt many people were thinking about manned flight in those days, in part stimulated by Jules Verne's fanciful 1886 sci-fi novel Robur the Conqueror (a.k.a. The Clipper of the Clouds) which featured a massive, propeller-driven heavier-than-air machine named the Albatross. 

Four centuries earlier Leonardo Da Vinci contemplated the possibilities of manned flight, so this was not an entirely new idea. What was new were the advances in technology that had been emerging over time.

So back to our story.

At the time, the most respected scientific authority on aviation in America was Samuel Pierpont Langley, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Langley had conducted promising experiments with unmanned, steam-powered models. Impressed, the U.S. War Department gave him roughly $50,000 — a huge sum in 1903 — plus institutional backing from the Smithsonian to build a manned “Aerodrome.”

With Langley's prestige, funding, and the full weight of America’s scientific establishment behind it, the Aerodome was launched from a houseboat on the Potomac River. It promptly plunged into the water like a “handful of mortar,” as one observer put it. 

The pilot, Charles Manly, survived thanks in part to a cork jacket. (You can see one of these at Corktown here in Duluth, I believe.)

The New York Times jumped on the fiasco just two days later with its October 9 editorial. Langley’s very public failure was proof that powered human flight was essentially impossible in any reasonable timeframe. If the best-funded, most credentialed expert in the country couldn’t do it, the editorial implied, then who could?

Langley may have been humiliated, but to his credit he didn'quit. On December 8, 1903 Langley tried again. This time the Aerodrome collapsed during launch, its wings crumpling as it tumbled back into the river. Another high-profile disaster.

Kitty Hawk, December 17, 1903

Nine days later, on December 17, 1903, if you remember your history, at a windswept beach in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, two brothers from Dayton, Ohio, achieved what the experts had declared would take millions of years. Orville and Wilbur Wright — self-taught bicycle mechanics with no formal scientific training, no government grants, and only a few hundred dollars of their own money — flew the first powered, controlled, sustained flight of a heavier-than-air machine.

They completed four flights that day. The longest lasted 59 seconds and covered 852 feet. They built their own wind tunnel, designed a lightweight gasoline engine, and solved critical problems of control through relentless experimentation and iteration. They didn't have elite credentials or massive institutional funding. Just a "can do" persistence and practical ingenuity.

At its core, it’s a story about how elites and credentialed “experts” can mistake their own failures — or the limits of their approach — for the permanent boundaries of human possibility.

Langley had resources and prestige. The Wrights had grit and a willingness to question conventional wisdom. One approach crashed (literally). The other soared. Or sort of soared. For sure, they got off the ground and that was a start. As I write these words Artemis II is two-thirds of the way to the moon with four astronauts sharing the adventure of a lifetime. [Trivia: Did you know that Artemis, in Greek mythology, was the twin sister of Apollo?]

I'm surprised at how quickly the NYTimes rushed to declare the death of the dream (of manned flight) after the establishment’s golden boy failed, then had to watch these two nobodies from Ohio prove them wrong.

Lesson: Whenever you hear confident pronouncements from prestigious institutions that something is “impossible,” “decades away,” or “requires massive top-down funding and expertise,” remember the Wright brothers.

My main point remains: experts, even when earnest, don't always know what they are talking about. Add to this the reality that there are a lot of people with agendas who use the media to parade their "experts" in the service of those agendas. Don't be suckered. Learn to discern.

Here's How Much a Drawing of a Foot Is Worth

I first saw this story in Hyperallergic: Michelangelo Drawing of a Foot Could Fetch $2M at Auction.  When it actually fetched 27 million many folks were mightily surprised.

This news story brought to mind an anecdote from when I interviewed comedian/actor Jonathan Winters in 2004 for an article about his art. Winters, who enjoyed painting, had a room in his Malibu home where he painted.

EN: What makes your work unique?

JW: Well, that’s an interesting question. All I ever hope to do with anything is try to be a little bit different from the guy on the wall. As I mentioned earlier, I look for style. A woman turned to me the other day and said, “How much is your largest painting?” The biggest I get is about 18 x 24. And I said $25,000. And she said, “Oh my God! I never dreamed it would be that much.” Well, I said, “The painting’s a joke. The idea is worth $25,000.” And she didn’t get that, so she said, and I get this a lot, >>> alters voice << “If you weren’t Jonathan Winters, you couldn’t ask those kind of prices.” And I said, “But I am Jonathan Winters.” Why would I put Henry Walker, or Lyle Davenberger on my painting?

Sink or swim. I get annoyed very quickly. If you don't want to pay that--now the woman is wearing heavy jewelry, pulls up in a brand new Jaguar--You’re talking to a guy who’s 77. I see these assholes coming in with all this glass on their hands bringing in a Delta flight, dickering with me... and I say, “Look, let me tell you something. You’re best bet is to go to Tijuana and get something on velvet. That would be tops $35 and a picture of Elvis.”

I’ve only painted 150 paintings in my life. They’re not all 25,000 for crying out loud. My drawings are like $500, framed pen and ink things. Red Skelton, for an 8 x 10, gets $45,000.

But you’re dealing with people. People say, “After you die do you think these will be worth anything at all?”

* * * 

Well, I doubt Michelangelo's drawing of a foot had much value when he first created it, though it is quite striking how much work went into painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Every face, foot and hand required special attention.

The five-inch sketch, which dates back 500 years, fetched 27 million dollars at Christie's auction house. According to the Hyperallergic story, "Its existence was completely unknown to scholars until a Christie's specialist in the Old Master Drawings department, Giada Damen, rediscovered the red-chalk-on-paper work in a digital photograph sent to the auction house as part of a batch of inquiries before it was authenticated earlier this year." The sketch was made sometime around 1511 or 1512 and is titled “The Libyan Sibyl on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.”

It makes you wonder what other "buried treasures" are out there in the art world.  

If you want to see "unburied treasures" from the Renaissance era, I suggest that you make Italy a destination. My brother and his wife saw DaVinci's "The Last Supper" in Milan a few years back. [If you're in Italy for the Olympics this week, don't neglect grabbing the opportunity to see some of the Renaissance period art and other treasures there.] 

When I visited Parma in 2023, my AirBnB was directly across the street from the National Gallery (Galleria Nazionale di Parma). I was astonished to find DaVinci's "Head of a Woman" (aka La Scapigliata.) Long before I ever went to Italy I fell in love with this paintng and did a few pen and ink drawings of my own based on this piece. What is it worth? No, it's not for sale. Few of DaVinci's works can be purchased, as they are national treasures and irreplaceable. This piece, an oil and umber sketch on poplar panel circa 1506-08, was acquired by the National Gallery in the 1830s or 40s. You can read about my exciting encounter with it here.

Bottom Line: Art seems to increase in value based on who's signature adorns it.  

   

Michelangelo's five-inch sketch has been privately owned by a Northern California collector whose family reportedly owned the masterwork since the 1700s, passing it down through multiple generations. (The seller's name has not been disclosed, and I'm curious what else they own. Part of the proceeds may have to be used for security services.) Since authentication is an important step in the process of determining value, the owners no doubt had their stressful moments for a spell.

They say Michelangelo first used pen and ink and black chalk in his earliest studies for the Vatican City frescoes before favoring red chalk for his drawings of live models. He was believed to have produced hundreds of these drawings, although most have been lost to history. Alas. 

The drawing of the Sibyl’s foot is one of a small group of surviving red chalk studies, among them Studies for The Libyan Sibyl, housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Art historians regard these works as among Michelangelo’s most accomplished pieces in red chalk. Although roughly 600 of his drawings are known to exist, nearly all — except for perhaps ten — reside in museum or institutional collections, according to Christie’s.

 

* * * 

Related Link

Full Jonathan Winters interview

A Brief Overview of My Italy Adventure

The Duomo at the heart of Florence.

It began last fall as a gift from my daughter on my 70th birthday. The gift came in the form of three envelopes. The first envelope contained a pre-paid flight on Delta Airlines to be used for a trip to Italy. (Plus instructions warning me that I cannot give this away, lest I be tempted to decline.) The second envelope contained Airbnb instructions to cover all my room and board expenses. The third envelope contained 700 euros. 

After several months of thinking about what, where and when, I settled upon an April trip to Florence and Parma. I'd originally considered Milan, Torino, Genoa and even a brief trip into France. Ultimately, I decided to reduce my Italy footprint and chose two smaller cities, one of them being amongst the most significant in history, Florence, where the birth of the Renaissance occurred during the reign of the Medicis. The cultural, economic, artistic and political events that took place in that era. New forms of literature and breakthroughs in science shaped, and continue to shape, much of what we experience today. 

Ultimately, my travel schedule looked like this:

Duluth to Florence via Amsterdam     Apr 16    

Florence to Parma                                      April 20

Parma to Florence                                      April 23

Florence to Duluth via Paris                     April 27       

 My Day-by-Day schedule unfolded like this:

Monday, April 17 
Arrive at Florence Aeroporte. 

Take a taxi ride with Giuseppi to my Airbnb on Via Borgo Ognissanti with Superhost Mariantonietta. Walk around the neighborhood... meet people, check out the Arno (River). First thought: "I'm home."

Tuesday, April 18   
For my first full day my aim was to locate the Bargello and Uffizi museums. The Uffizi is Italy's answer to the Louvre in Paris. It has been argued that the Uffizi is the oldest and most mesmerizing museum in the world. The Bargello is a sculpture museum of the highest order. I planned to visit both the following week  On that first full day in Italy I just walked the streets, inhaling the sights, sounds, and smells as I got oriented to the layout of the city. The Gallileo Museum is located just around the corner from Uffizi. Spending some time there was an imperative.

Wednesday April 19

My second full day in Florence began with a walkabout. After lunch I visited the Uffizi Gallery/Museum, which was indeed a total "Wow!" 

 

Thursday, April 20     

Traveled from Florence to Parma by bullet train. Parma is a couple hours to the North, famous for its prosciutto and cheese. I arrived at my Airbnb on Strada Garibaldi, located directly across from the National Gallery.            

When I first arrived in Parma I had momentary doubts...  "Why am I here?" Fewer  people spoke English, it seemed, and I feared becoming isolated. The next morning, however, under sunny skies my spirits were lifted and there was no turning back. Parma would be wonderful.

Friday, April 21            

Parma, too, is home to a lot of history. The Monastery de San Giovani Evangelista, the Baptistery and the Duomo attest to the enduring power of centuries-old architecture. The Baptistery was dedicated in 1059, and may have been an expanded version of a baptistery built in the 400s. It's an amazing feeling to see the scale of this building that is more than a thousand years old, and it's deocrated interior.

Saturday, April 22 

When I stepped outside Saturday morning, the city had come alive. A market had sprung up to the left of the National Gallery and there were people everywhere. After a half day of walking aimlessly, enjoying the sights and sounds, I visited the National Gallery.

One of the bridges near the Uffizi, crossing the Arno.

Sunday, April 23 

I took the train back to Florence via Bologna. On the second leg I was seated next to a bassoon player from the Berlin Symphony Orchestra, one of many interesting people I got to know on this trip. Usually, a short while into many of these conversations, I am asked where I am from and I reply, "From Duluth, Minnesota where Bob Dylan was born." Numerous conversations about Dylan would ensue, and in this case the professional musician said, "Bob Dylan is my hero." 

Thanks to my daughter's guidance, all three of the Airbnbs I stayed at were a ten minute walk from the train stations, in the heart of each city. I checked into my Airbnb on Via dell'Ariento, about a block from the Medici Chapel, and returned to exploring Florence.         

Monday, April 24  

This was my day designated to seeing Michelangelo's David at the Accademia. This statue is deservedly a wonder of the world. More another time about this and the other treasures here.

I'm not sure whether it was Sunday or Monday that I encountered a parade of Peruvians protesting what they were calling a genocide of indigenous peoples in Peru. This is something I will also write about later. 

Tuesday, April 25          

There were gaps in my schedule to allow for options at various points. On the 25th I'd not established a plan but was considering a day trip to Pisa. I'd learned that the Leaning Tower was not entirely breathtaking, but there were other things there that many are unaware of. 

An impressive crowd gathered to hear speeches 
praising America for helping rid Italy of fascism.
The David statue is a replica, not Michelangelo's.

The day trip was cancelled because of a more important event. April 25 is Liberation Day in Italy, a day in which they celebrate the American soldiers who liberated the country from Mussolini and fascism. It was a major holiday and all the museums were free that day, though I was most impressed by the two gatherings I attended and the size of the crowd that went to hear the mayor and other important speakers. I had several opportunities to share that my father-in-law had served in the U.S. Army during its two year climb up the boot from Sicily to Torino. (Copies of his war memoir  And There Shall Be Wars are still available for purchase. You can learn more about the book here.)

Wednesday, April 26

My last day in Florence included a visit to the Medici Chapel, which I'd walked by many times during my last three days in Florence. Many people are unaware of the numerous statues by Michelangelo there. 

 

Thursday, April 27
I arrived at the airport a little before 4:00 a.m. to catch my flight back to the USA. After 26 hours with no sleep I arrived home, unpacked and found some rest, though a few hours later I woke again. My body was apparently on Italy-time. An hour of reflection passed and I began to yawn again, slumberland just beyond the horizon.

 

* * *

Stay tuned for more.

A Blog Post about the Future of Publishing

When I attended the Fourth Annual Robert Wright Writers Conference at Mankato State University in 1985 one of the speakers skewered us with straight talk about the challenge of getting published. He pointed out that there were 50,000 new books being published a year and of these only 2,000 were fiction, and most from this latter category would be sold as “remainders” after they failed. Pretty grim stats, but nothing like today. The last I heard there were one million books published in the most recent year where stats were available, and if you think it was tough getting noticed then, well… don’t choke on it.

How does an unknown entrepreneurial writer hope to even find an audience in this complicated, overcrowded marketplace? And what will the world of publishing look like ten years from now? Here are a few of my thoughts on this matter near thirty years later.

Ellen Sandbeck, a writer from Duluth, successfully caught the attention of a New York publishing house the old-fashioned way: sell enough books to show that your product has a market even without a “big New York marketing budget” and prove you’ve got still more material in the well. This is what Irma Rombauer did in the 1930's when she produced The Joy of Cooking, selling copies of her novel (at the time) approach to recipe writing out of her apartment. Ellen’s first book, Slug Bread and Beheaded Thistles, was not only original, it had a captivating title as well. She sold 10,000 copies in three years before Bobbs-Merrill sought her out and recruited her to their stable. (She later moved to Scribner.)

A Book Is a Product
Books come in all shapes, sizes and formats on an improbably wide range of themes, many of them defying easy categorization. Once we decide to bring our book to the markatplace, however, the one common denominator of all is this: in one way or another the book is a product that must offer value.

For the consumer, all books cost something. Publishers are businesses that need to make money to survive, but money isn’t the only thing readers sacrifice. They also must give up a measure of time, which has varying degrees of value depending on one's situation. Retired people may be looking for ways to fill their time. Many others must make sacrifices in order to find the time to read and for these time is a precious commodity, sometimes even more important than money.

In any event, writers must understand the value proposition, whether it be entertainment, information, diversion, comfort, personal fulfillment, wisdom or status – a book must serve a purpose.

The Future of Publishing

Imagining the future has been a stimulating endeavor for centuries. Da Vinci imagined a time when men would fly. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells mixed fact and fantasy to imagine remarkable futures. A whole assortment of books and magazines thrive on making predictions about what tomorrow might bring.

Thirty years ago I was reading an article in The Futurist magazine (a publication decidedly optimistic about Tomorrow) that declared that in the 21st century every person would have a personal robot to serve them. I was at a Minneapolis apartment complex at the time and looked up to see a dumpster diver near the alley. “I don’t think that fellow will have a personal robot any time soon,” I thought to myself. In other words, the future may not match what our imaginations are capable of conceiving.

So what will the future of publishing look like, really, in ten years. Ray Bradbury had no clue that many people would be reading eBooks when he wrote Fahrenheit 451. (Anyone know the melting point of a Kindle, by the way?)

Profits from eBooks have certainly grown in recent years. I read recently that 40% of all books being read in Great Britain are now digital and 20% here in the States. The market is growing, but who’s making the money?

One thing I have observed... Things change.

In 1990 there was no World Wide Web. Five years later I was able to place nearly two dozen of my short stories on the Internet to be shared anywhere and everywhere around the globe. Three were translated into foreign languages (Croatian, Russian and French) and two of my twelve-year-old daughter's stories found publication in California and New Zealand. One of my stories, Episode on South Street, was produced as a short film.

You might say this was all made possible by the new digital world of cyberspace, but it was more than that. I had been an early adopter. My stories were much easier to find in 1996 than on today's crowded cyber space today, now comprised of more than 1.55 billion pages according to one estimate.*

In 2000 there was no Facebook, no YouTube, no Twitter and though America Online in 1990 created full-fledged virtual communities, the sea change of the past ten years has been the phenomenon known as social media. And how quickly it shifts and shakes and quivers with each rumbling new wave of technical advance. How can we even begin to imagine what ten years will bring when what’s hot is so temporary?

Here are some clues as to what we can anticipate. First, the big money players make their bread and butter by creating mass media celebrities whom they market as brands. Television is still the driver because it requires no real mental engagement, unlike reading. Second, you do not have to be The Beatles to profit from the game. For every Elton John there are thousands of music groups making money playing bars, casinos and even weddings.

The same holds true for writers. You can reach a lot of people without being a nationally known household name. Steve Martin, in his autobiography Born Standing Up, said he had been on The Tonight Show seventeen times before a single strangers said, “Say, aren’t you the guy…”

The future of publishing will continue to evolve as technology evolves, that’s a given. But whether digital or print, the medium is nothing more than that. The supreme task for writers is to produce noteworthy copy that has value to readers and potential readers. To paraphrase a Zen notion about students and teachers, “When the writer is ready, the publisher will appear.”


Featured eBook of the Week: The Red Scorpion

Ivory Towers and Pipe Dreams

"Whatever their future, at the dawn of their lives, men seek a noble vision of man's nature and of life's potential."
~Ayn Rand

I began reading Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead yesterday and it brought to mind an art project from when I was in high school. Everyone was supposed to design a house. The picture on this blogspot is the house I designed.
(click image to enlarge)

It is a somewhat hilarious memory because... well, the design problems are self-evident. First off, try supporting half the house with a staircase. Something tells me there's going to be structural problems here. Yes, the upside-down pyramid is suspended in the air by the staircase running from the low portion of the house.

I would guess that if the structure were built in Minnesota, you might also have a problem with accumulating snow adding additional weight. Furthermore, from my observation living in the Northland, flat roofs are notorious for springing leaks over time. Leaky roofs are not a fun thing to deal with either.

But when the model you build is made of paper, and your only barrier is the imagination, a young person can dream up some pretty far out images. Just don't ask too many questions, like what would the re-sale value be? Or, what would a wife think of the amount of closet space here and the lack of windows?

An unrealistic hope or fantasy is known as a pipe dream, the origin of the phrase being an allusion to the stimulated imaginations of opium smokers. Many a business has crashed and burned because their product or process or service was ultimately a pipe dream. Like my house here, it may have been imaginative, but was decidedly not practical.

(This isn't to say that such a house could never be built. Or that the idea could not be modified to become a little more stable. For example, if the upside-down portion were supported by its tip, and thin rods made of some super-alloy supported the corners...)

In point of fact, much of what man has achieved is because he didn't allow his imagination to be restricted too much by reality based thinking. Da Vinci wrestled with the problems of flight, and must have been thought a kook by many. He was simply ahead of his time. The Wright brothers showed that gravity could be defeated. And today there are people with jet propelled suits doing solo flights that make the Wright brothers' contraption to be but a baby buggy.

While it's true that some ideas are created in ivory tower environs that have no possibility of practical implementation, it is also true that what seemed absurd from one point of view is quite astonishing from another.

So let the kids dream. Tomorrow it will be their world anyways.

Famous Lefties

Unless you’re in a minority, you can easily take it for granted that all are like you. I remember the first time I knew someone whose parents were divorced (that I knew about) and it seemed so unusual. And for most of us who are right handed, it is quite strange to find that a portion of the world is unlike ourselves… or that their needs might be different from ours.

Take the guitar, for example. Jimi Hendrix did not have the luxury of owning a guitar designed for lefties, so he learned to play a right handed guitar the opposite way, with the bass string on the bottom instead of the top.

There are actually whole stores for left-handed people. There are even scholarships for lefties, as if their minority status required our support, I suppose. Maybe some rich lefty wanted to make sure left handers got a fair shake.

In baseball I remember that one of the great pitchers of all time, Sandy Koufax, was a southpaw (nickname for left handed pitchers.) Being one of the greatest Jewish baseball players, he stands out as a double minority.

Allegedly, the following presidents were all left handed: James A. Garfield, Herbert Hoover, Harry S. Truman, Gerald Ford, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton. It’s remarkable how four of the next five post-Nixon presidents were lefties. Bet you didn’t know that. (In researching, I learned something else about Mr. Hoover, our Roaring Twenties president who ushered us into the Great Depression. He died in 1964, a year after John F. Kennedy, who ushered us into the Sixties.)

Here’s a smattering of other left handers: King Louis XVI of France, Queen Victoria of England, Prince Charles of England, Fidel Castro, Henry Ford, David Rockefeller, Helen Keller, Dr. Albert Schweitzer, astronauts Edwin Buzz Aldrin and Wally Schirra, Jay Leno, Dave Barry, Edward R. Murrow and Ted Koppel. Some interesting characters in my book.

A few left-handed authors you might be familiar with include: James Baldwin, Peter Benchley, Lewis Carroll, Marshall McLuhan, Mark Twain, H.G. Wells and Eudora Welty.

The list of lefty musicians is longer still. Here’s but a portion: David Byrne, Glen Campbell, Kurt Cobain, Phil Collins, Bela Fleck, Judy Garland, Isaac Hayes, Chuck Mangione, Robert Plant, Cole Porter, Rachmaninoff, Maurice Ravel, Lou Rawls, Paul Simon, Tiny Tim and Rudy Valee.

Artists of the left hand persuasion include Albrecht Dürer, M.C. Escher, Paul Klee, Michelangelo, LeRoy Neiman, Raphael, and Leonardo da Vinci... an auspicious group.

And of left handedness in the acting profession there seems no end, much too long to list here.

I get the impression that being left handed has a somewhat negative connotation, as if a person is somehow underhanded for being a lefty. This is a strange notion, but it's born out in a number of ways. For example the Chinese character for "left" means improper.

It's no doubt a bummer that many tools and implements are designed for righties, making many activities just that much more challenging. Seven to ten percent of all people are left handed, and yet we have failed to accommodate for them in so many ways. Thank goodness for left handed teacups when we have company.