This 2014 celebration of inventor/actress Hedy Lamarr fell through the cracks when there was a change of editors at the Southern Illinoisan, so it appears here for the first time in print.
November 9 marks the one hundredth birthday of Hedy Lamarr, a 1940s
Hollywood movie star christened by MGM’s publicity department “the
most beautiful woman in the world.” But while most of Lamarr’s
films have largely been forgotten, it was what she did in her spare
time that changed the world.
Born Hedwig Kiesler (Lamarr was a name given her by Hollywood mogul
Louis B. Mayer) in Vienna, Austria-Hungary, in 1914, Lamarr first
became famous at the age of 18 with the release of the Czech film
Ecstasy. The movie scandalized proper European society with its
story-line of a young woman actively pursuing an affair, only to cast
her lover aside after a one-night stand, as well as a scene in which
Lamarr appears nude and another in which her face is shown in
close-up as she simulates orgasm.
In 1933, she married the wealthy Austrian munitions maker, Fritz
Mandl, whose clients included top German and Italian political and
military figures. Lamarr was expected to serve as window dressing
when Mandl entertained his important guests as Hitler’s and
Mussolini’s governments prepared for war, but she listened to the
discussions and learned a great deal.
Lamarr left Mandl in 1937 and ended up in Hollywood, where she signed
with MGM, which featured her in such movies as Algiers, White
Cargo, and Samson and Delilah. Her co-stars included such
leading men as Charles Boyer, Spencer Tracy, Clark Gable, James
Stewart, William Powell, Victor Mature and Bob Hope. But Lamarr
always chafed at her glamorous image. “Any girl can be glamorous,”
she once observed. “All you have to do is stand still and look
stupid.”
Lamarr though was anything but stupid. And because she was not
attracted to the Hollywood nightlife, she typically spent her
evenings at home engaging in her favorite pastime—inventing. Over
the course of her life, Lamarr invented a dizzying array of items,
including a bouillon cube that, when dropped in water, would create a
carbonated, soda-like drink. As historian Richard Rhodes writes in
his 2011 book Hedy’s Folly, “Hedy invented to challenge and
amuse herself and to bring order to a world she thought chaotic.”
In Hollywood, she met George Antheil, a former avant garde composer
who was now writing movie soundtracks. Antheil’s most famous work,
“Ballet Mecanique,” was written to be performed by, among other
instrumentation, sixteen synchronized player pianos. Like Lamarr,
Antheil was a fellow amateur inventor.
With the outbreak of World War II, the two sought to help the Allied
war effort. Drawing on a range of influences from the conversations
Lamarr overheard at Mandl’s house to Antheil’s experience trying
to synchronize player pianos, the two invented a radio guidance
system for torpedoes that could not be jammed, a system Lamarr termed
“frequency-hopping” and would later be called “spread
spectrum.” As Rhodes explains, “With a signal hopping all over
the radio spectrum, and doing so not regularly but arbitrarily, more
or less at random, the transmission would be impossible to jam
because an enemy would be unable to follow it.”
The invention was patented, but the Navy showed little interest in
developing it and with that, the idea languished for decades, the
patent expiring in 1959, the same year Antheil died. The military
found some uses for spread spectrum technology, but it was not until
the cell phone revolution of the 1980s that the idea was put to use
on a large scale.
Spread spectrum solved a major problem arising with the widespread
use of cell phones—that is, according to Rhodes, “allowing many
different phones to talk at once by arranging for them to hop in many
different sequences, thus staying out of each other’s way.” Thus
it made possible the technology revolution of Wi-Fi, Global
Positioning System (GPS), wireless cash registers, bar-code readers,
digital watermarking and much more.
Lamarr received no money and, for a long time, little credit for her
role in this technological revolution, as her contribution largely
went unnoticed or was dismissed. Gradually though, in the decade
before her death in 2000, the significance of her invention was
recognized. In 1997, she and Antheil received the Electronic Frontier
Foundation’s prestigious Pioneer Award.
So the next time you send a text or check your GPS to make sure you
aren't lost, take a minute to think of Hedy Lamarr, the glamorous
Hollywood star who definitely was more than just a pretty face.
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