Chester F.
Carlson, Inventor of Xerography
by
John Vardalas
On 8 February 1906, Chester F
Carlson, the inventor of "electron
photography," was born in Seattle, Washington. For marketing
purposes, the Haloid Company, which had obtained exclusive
commercial rights to Carlson's idea, changed the technically apt
but otherwise unattractive name of electron photography to the
more exotic "xerography." In time, the Haloid Company would
rename itself the Xerox Corporation. As a 1962 article in
Fortune explained, it was an Ohio State professor of classics
who suggested the name of xerography to Haloid's public
relations department. In Greek "xero" means "dry" and "graphy"
means writing. Carlson's patent on xerography represented a
radically new direction in printing technology, perhaps the most
dramatic change since Gutenberg's work on movable type in the
15th century. For the first time, all manner of printed
material, line drawings and half-tones could be copied easily
and quickly onto untreated paper without the use of chemicals.
Xerography revolutionized office work around the world and
became a source of enormous economic value. Laser printing,
invented by an engineer at Xerox, has furthered
multiplied the economic potential of the xerographic process. As
brilliant as Carlson's patent was, the story of xerography is
more a testament to Carlson's great inner strength, which had
been forged in the crucible of hardship, than to genius.
Carlson was born into abject poverty
and spent all of his boyhood and early manhood in its tight
grip. Homelessness was a constant threat throughout his childhood. By
age 12, Carlson had to work to help his parents, and by 14 he had
become the family's main breadwinner. In a well-written
biography of Carlson, David Owen explains that "[Carlson] was a
shy, soft-spoken boy who, deep within himself, couldn't help
sharing his parents' deepening despair about the precariousness
of their existence." And yet, the young Carlson would not let
poverty crush his spirit as it had done to his father. He
continued to go to school, while working to support his family,
and developed a strong interest in science. With little hope of
going to college, the adolescent Carlson was convinced that a
career as an inventor was the only way he could use his
technical talents to break free of poverty. Stories of
successful inventors like Edison had made a strong impression on
Carlson. In high school, Carlson started to keep a notebook on
ideas for inventions. Though devastated by his mother's death
and left to take care of an invalid father, Carlson's desire to learn
was too strong not to go to college. Carlson got into Cal Tech
and managed to graduate in physics with decent grades, although
he had to work to support himself and his father. He regretted
going to Cal Tech. Poverty made Carlson feel like an outsider.
And yet, in later years, Carlson observed that his rigorous
grounding in science and math proved very useful to his work in
xerography. The inner strength he summoned to educate himself
not only gave him the technical skills to invent a bold idea, but
it also prepared him to wage a single-handed battle to pursue an
invention that others thought was a useless curiosity.
The idea of xerography only came to
Carlson while he was taking law courses. The Great Depression was not the
best time to graduate from college. There was an over abundance
of physicists, many of whom had higher degrees than Carlson.
He used his technical training to get a job in the Bell
Labs patent department, after which he moved on to the patent
department of the electrical and electronic manufacturer P.R.
Mallory & Company. Carlson then thought it wise to get a law
degree. But all during this time, he still harbored a deep desire to
invent something great. While copying text from law books that
he could not afford to buy, Carlson's inventive desires
naturally turned to finding an easy way to duplicate documents.
Convinced that photographic techniques using chemicals would not
work, he looked for a new angle. His Cal Tech degree would now
serve him well. He started to study the work of other physicists
in search of a phenomenon that could serve as the basis for a new
copying technique. He then came upon photoconductivity which
deals with the conductive properties of materials when subjected
to light. On 8 September 1938, he filed for a patent on
"Electron Photography" and was granted patent # 2,221,776 on 19
November 1940.
In retrospect, one could say that
patent #2,221,776 ushered in a revolution in printing technology
and stupendous business opportunities. But at the time, no one
saw any significance or value in it. Carlson knocked on numerous
big corporate doors, including GE, RCA and IBM. The response was an
unequivocal "not interested." Sustained only by a quiet, but
deep inner strength, Carlson worked in relative obscurity trying
to develop a demonstration that photoconductivity and
electrostatics could indeed provide a workable framework for
copying documents. The early work in xerography did not emerge
from the large, well equipped, and sophisticated R&D laboratory.
Instead, Carlson toiled away in crude makeshift labs, sometimes
using his kitchen, other times a rented backroom.
In 1944, Carlson's hope to
commercialize "electron photography" got a boost when the
Batelle Memorial Institute and the Haloid Company got involved.
But even then it would take another 15 years before the Haloid
Company would produce a successful xerographic machine, the 914.
Carlson's patent was the crucial first step. But it took a team
of talented scientists and engineers and a good deal of money to
solve the large number of very difficult technical problems that
blocked xerography's successful commercialization.
According to Owen, "Carlson's most important contribution to the
project during the 1950s was probably helping to maintain the
company's enthusiasm for his idea, despite repeated setbacks."
This story has an unexpected twist that deserves special mention. The 19th century
development of interchangeable-parts manufacturing in armories,
the early work on electronic digital computers, and the
aggressive pursuit of miniaturization in electronics are all
examples of the important role the peace-time military
enterprise has played in underwriting technological development
in the United States. And as such, the military also played an important role
in xerography. Owen relates the U.S. military's concern that
standard reconnaissance using photographic techniques would be
nullified, if nuclear weapons were used. The silver halide
emulsion in photographic plates is extremely sensitive to
background radiation. Nuclear fallout could easily cause silver
halide emulsions to fog. In 1948, the Signal Corps, at Fort
Monmouth, N.J., gave Batelle and Haloid a considerable amount of
money to look at electro-photography as an alternative to
conventional photography. Military imperatives thus provided an
important source of funding to help underwrite early
xerography R&D.
The 914 was an enormous success, and
within a few years it catapulted the insignificant Haloid
Company to the Xerox Corporation — the fifteenth largest company
in the United States. Carlson had become extremely wealthy. The
adolescent's dream had come true: a great invention had indeed
freed him from poverty. Although wealthy, Carlson lived simply.
He preferred to give away his considerable wealth to a
variety of social causes. Hardship had not only given Carlson
enormous inner strength, it also had opened up his heart to the
needs of society.
For a detailed look into Chester
Carlson's life, read David Owen's Copies in Seconds
(Simon & Schuster, 2004).
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