William Kinnersley
Living organisms have evolved a wide range of methods of communication in addition to the familiar five senses employed by human beings. Elephants and marine mammals communicate over long distances using infrasound. Electric eels and hammerhead sharks detect their prey from the tiny electric fields produced by muscular activity. Certain birds and insects have a remarkably complex system of vision with four and sometimes even five independent sets of color receptors.
Undoubtedly, many important communication channels remain to be discovered. Human pheromones are known to exist, although their function is as yet poorly understood. It is a well-established fact nevertheless that young women living in the same dormitory develop synchronized menstrual cycles, presumably from shared olfactory cues. Furthermore it has recently been confirmed that exposure to androstenol, an ingredient present in male perspiration, brightens women’s mood, reduces tension, and has a direct effect on the release of luteinizing hormone.
Even less understood are the mechanisms of communication between inanimate objects, although the existence of the effect is undeniable. Telephones and shower heads, for example, are known to activate simultaneously, to a degree which cannot be explained by chance. A similar observation holds for doorbells and boiling teakettles. Despite their considerable practical importance, these examples involve heterogeneous systems, and hence are better left as a topic for future research. The focus of the present paper is a much simpler case, namely the identification and delineation of the possible channels of communication between aging light bulbs.
The light bulbs in use in a given house at any one time would appear to be a totally random collection, being of different brands, having been purchased at different locations and at different times, put into service on different dates, and subjected to a variety of duty cycles. Nevertheless, a substantial body of evidence has been collected demonstrating the existence of light bulb groups or “cohorts,” and their tendency to expire within a short period of time.
Moreover there appears to be a pronounced seasonal synchronicity. Just as deciduous trees are able to sense the onset of autumn, informing them at what point to reduce chlorophyll production and thus turn their leaves from green to various hues, light bulbs also seem to be aware of the time of year. For it is early to mid-Fall when most light bulbs choose to go out in a blaze of glory. Trees, it is thought, are able to drop their leaves at the proper moment by monitoring the diurnal photoperiod or length of daylight. The leaf-to-air differential of CO2 vapor pressure may also play a part. However the mechanism used by light bulbs to determine the time of year has yet to be identified. It must be quite subtle, as bulbs housed within a room completely lacking in windows nevertheless demonstrate this ability undiminished.
This paper is devoted to a preliminary investigation of the communication channels available to light bulbs. The possibilities may be classified as visual, auditory and electromagnetic.
To begin with, consider the hypothesis that a team spirit or common purpose exists among nearby bulbs. Each bulb produces a steady outpouring of warmth and brilliance, and feels pride in making its contribution, both because it is a mutual endeavor and because it is a fulfillment of the purpose for which it was designed. Under this assumption, it is natural that when a bulb expires, its neighbors bearing witness to the event feel a sense of immediate loss. The trauma quite reasonably affects their subsequent performance and expected lifetime. Their thoughts turn to the finite lifespan faced by all, and the ultimate futility of a fleeting existence as a “mere” light bulb, with a lifetime measured in only a few hundreds of hours. This adds credence to the recent suggestion that the light bulb effect may be analogous to cluster-suicides among human teenagers.
We must next address the question of how this camaraderie among light bulbs might be established and maintained. Do they sing to each other? Although too faint to be readily perceived by human beings, audio emission would permit neighboring bulbs to remain in constant communication. In fact, heated tungsten filaments are observed to undergo vibrations in the audio frequencies, with primary emission occurring at the fundamental mode. The frequency of this mode varies according to details of the physical construction, and serves to give each bulb a distinctive and recognizable voice. High wattage bulbs have thicker filaments, hence lower-pitched vibrations, and at any time the typical home will have an assortment of 40-watt altos, 60-watt sopranos and 75-watt baritones, plus an occasional 100-watt bass. Those bulbs in a candelabra arrangement, in view of their similar physical size and close proximity, would be especially well coordinated and likely sing as one.
The interesting possibility is then raised that the demise of a bulb may not come as a complete surprise. Nearby bulbs may receive advance warning of the impending event before it has occurred. A light bulb filament oxidizes and becomes more brittle as the bulb ages, and the vibrations acquire a progressively larger amplitude. In the case of an unfrosted bulb quite near the end of its expected lifetime, filament vibrations are manifestly visible through the glass. Ultimately these vibrations cause the filament to snap in two, producing bulb failure. To a bulb that has been recently manufactured and put into service, witnessing the first such event may come as a shocking surprise. However after more expirations of others in the cohort, the new bulb will be able to anticipate the outcome, with increasing frustration in view of its helplessness to prevent it.
Now let us consider in more detail the events occurring at the moment of expiration. As the filament breaks, a dying bulb does not simply cease its light output. It typically produces both a flash and an audible pop. “What was that? What happened?” the nearest bulb must wonder. And then, “Am I going to be next?” Its own singing voice will be affected for some time afterwards, communicating and spreading its anxiety to the rest of the cohort. Deducing that bulb death most frequently occurs at the first surge of current just when a cold bulb is being turned on, a bulb may come to dread this moment, a condition known as electrophobia.
The communication channels we have discussed so far are rather short range. Optical communication is purely line-of-sight, while audio contact extends perhaps a bit farther to adjacent rooms. Finally let us now briefly consider another channel which may be effective over larger distances. At bulb death an electrical pulse will be transmitted through the electric wiring, and hence to any other appliance connected on the same circuit. “I felt a disturbance in the force, as if a voice cried out and was suddenly silenced. Something terrible has happened!” So said Obi-Wan Kenobi. But there are cogent arguments against the use of electric impulses for practical communication. Monitoring of the electric service line shows it to be an extremely noisy environment, with devices constantly being turned on and off, and other devices such as motors producing a great deal of emissions during their operation. Hence with background noise a significant factor, it is not known how well a single bulb may be detected.
To sum up, our knowledge in the field of inanimate communication at this stage is extremely limited. It is hoped that this paper will serve to stimulate further interest.