Ben Franklin was a brilliant polymath and a proud card-carrying member of the Age of Enlightenment. He left scorch marks on nearly every field he touched — publishing mogul, civic pioneer, champion of education, savvy politician and diplomat, relentless inventor, and cutting-edge scientist (back when they called them “natural philosophers” and wore fancy waistcoats). America wouldn’t be America if not for Franklin (you decide if that’s a good thing).
In the world of science, Franklin was basically the colonial Bill Nye — dragging the study of electricity out of the parlor and into the lab. Until Franklin came along, electricity was mostly for party tricks and shocking unsuspecting friends (I gotta admit, I’d be one of those doing the shocking). He made it serious, and seriously fascinating.
Ben didn’t invent electricity — that was Mother Nature’s gig. Franklin wasn’t colonial Electro-Magneto Man (though now that you mention it, I’d read that comic). And no, he didn’t discover it either — the ancient Greeks were already rubbing amber and collecting static before ol’ Ben ever picked up a kite string.
What Franklin did do was prove that lightning is a form of electricity, and then had the gall to tame it with his invention of the lightning rod — a genius device that saved lives and property.
As for the famous kite experiment? It may be partly apocryphal. Some historians suggest it was actually his son William who flew the kite, not Ben. Smart move, really. If you’re going to fly a metal key into a thunderstorm, better to use a relative you can spare. And Franklin wasn’t terribly fond of William anyway — he liked his grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache a whole lot more (probably because Bache wasn’t a British loyalist, and also hadn’t tried to kill him via atmospheric electricity).
After all, nobody wants one of our nation’s founding fathers remembered as BBQ Ben.
Franklin also gave us several foundational terms in electricity — positive, negative, charge, conductor, and insulator — which were way more appropriate than his choice of “battery.”
The term “battery” originally referred to a battery of cannons — a group of weapons working together to kill and destroy. Franklin used it to describe multiple Leyden jars (early capacitors) linked together. This made sense… at the time.
But today, we know a battery refers to a single device that stores and delivers power through electrochemical reactions, not a group of jars or anything else. Calling one AA battery a “battery” is like calling a single trombone a “brass band.”
Franklin was a genius, no doubt (and my favorite forefather by far)— but if he’d gone with something like “Voltpack” or “Joule Box” instead of “Battery”, we might’ve saved ourselves a bit of confusion… and a syllable.