Electricity and Magnetism

Imagine this.  You thank Volta for his time and you leave his laboratory behind.  Franklin learned to store electricity in a jar.  Volta learned how to make it flow continuously and how to guide that flow.  As you continue down the hallway, you begin to wonder what comes next.  If electricity can be created, stored, and directed, what can it actually do?  Maybe Franklin was right about the amazing power, you think to yourself.  You consider sharing this comment with Dustin, but you decide against it.  Dustin doesn’t seem ready to have such a conversation.

The hallway twists around another corner.  You notice a narrow staircase leading downward.  Curious, you turn that way, and begin descending down the stairs.  You find yourself in a basement.  It is a dim place, yet it feels light and full of energy.  You are glad you found this place.  It feels secret and exciting.

There is a door in front of you with a nameplate: ‘Michael Faraday.’  You push on the door and walk in.

At first, the room seems almost gloomy compared to Volta’s bright laboratory.  Thick brick walls surround a cramped underground workspace.  Shelves cover nearly every wall from floor to ceiling.  Hundreds of glass bottles, chemical jars, and carefully labeled notebooks sit in rows.  Near one wall stands a massive brick hearth blackened by years of fires.  There is an old, stained workbench, with coils of copper wire, chunks of iron, and strange homemade devices wrapped with cloth and twine.

Beside a workbench you see a man working.  “Hello,” you call out to him.

The man turns around, startled.  He has wild hair and bright eyes, and is holding a magnet in his hand.

He walks over to you and greets you cheerily.  “I am Michael Faraday,” he says.

You and Dustin introduce yourselves.

Then Dustin jumps in with a question: “Why do you have so many magnets?”

Faraday pauses and thinks for a moment.  Then he says, “Because I think they’re trying to tell us something.”

Dustin stares at him, mouth open, not quite sure how to take that.  “The magnets are talking to you?” Dustin asks.

“Yes, I think so,” Faraday says, a slight smile on his face.

Dustin lowers his voice, as though he were talking to a little child.  “What are they trying to say?”

Faraday chuckles.  “That is exactly what I have been trying to discover.”  He places the magnet on the table and motions for you to come closer.  “Tell me something.  What have you been studying lately?”

“Electricity,” you say.  “It looks like you are studying something else.”

“It might seem that way,” Faraday responds, “but I suspect there is a deep connection between the electricity you have been studying and the magnets I have been studying.”

“Why do you think that?” you ask.

“Partly because I believe the universe has a deep unity to it.”

“What does that mean?” 

Faraday thinks for a moment.

“I believe the universe was designed by a Creator.  Because of that, I expect nature to fit together like a perfect and beautiful pattern, with everything connected.  Like a great piece of art.”

“You are saying that magnets are like paintings?” Dustin asks.

“No, it’s not like that,” Faraday says.  “It’s that I expect that the laws of the natural world are all connected somehow.  Electricity, magnetism, gravity, light—most people study them separately, but what if they are all connected?”  Faraday looks excited as he says this.  “I suspect that they are.  And I suspect that if I could see the connections, all the natural world would suddenly appear as one breath-taking, magnificent piece of art.  I would like to see that painting.  I suppose that is why I am down here, surrounded by magnets.”

“So, yes, you are saying that magnets are like paintings,” Dustin repeats, clearly missing the point.

You pick up a compass from the table, and look at it for a moment.  “What first made you think electricity and magnets might be connected?”

“It was a strange story I read several years ago,” Faraday says.  “I read a story about a scientist who was working with a Voltaic pile, and he was running electricity from the Voltaic pile through a wire.  The wire happened to be near a compass like the one in your hand.  The scientist discovered by accident that whenever he sent electricity down the wire, the needle of the compass twitched.  I was shocked—delighted!”

Dustin frowns.  “I don’t see why that is a big deal.”

Faraday taps the compass gently, and says, “What moves a compass needle?”

“The North Pole,” Dustin says.

“Well, not exactly,” Faraday says.

“A magnet moves the needle,” you clarify, “and the North Pole acts like a magnet.”

“Exactly,” Faraday says.  “So if a magnet moves the needle and electricity moves the needle….”  He lets the thought hang in the air.  

You think for a moment.  “Then electricity is doing something magnetic,” you say, finishing his sentence.

Faraday smiles.  “That was my suspicion.  And once that idea entered my mind, I could not stop thinking about it.  They must be connected.  They must be different aspects of the same pattern, woven together into a beautiful piece of art.”

“Have you seen it yet?” Dustin asks, a skeptical tone in his voice.

“Seen what?” Faraday asks.

“The one, big, beautiful painting,” Dustin says.

“No, I haven’t seen it yet,” Faraday says, “but I think I am getting closer.”  He pauses for some time.  Then he turns to you and says, “Maybe you can help me.  Would you like to investigate this mystery with me?”