May 1958 Popular Electronics Table of Contents Wax nostalgic about and learn from the history of early electronics. See articles from Popular Electronics, published October 1954 - April 1985. All copyrights are hereby acknowledged.

Typical of Carl Kohler's husband and unwilling "Friend-Wife" technoadventures, the self-assured inventor triumphantly unveils his "Truth Detector" - a device he claims advances beyond lie detectors by reacting only to truthful statements. After dismissing his wife's interest in psychology, he insists she test it, attaching electrodes with smug superiority. The needle remains dead still as she denies wanting a mink coat or jealousy of their neighbor - but swings wildly when she truthfully agrees to his offer of dishwashing help. "It works!" he crows, oblivious to her simmering irritation. When she challenges him to undergo the same test, his bravado falters slightly, but he consents, insisting his invention is infallible. As she hooks him up with a glint of mischief, the narrator notes her "surreptitious" action - leaving readers anticipating the detector's verdict on his honesty. Kohler's farce skewers gadget-obsessed hubris and marital one-upmanship, blending pseudo-technical jargon ("modality tracers") with sly domestic comedy, all while teasing an impending comeuppance.

The Truth Detector

By Carl Kohler

No sooner had my skilled fingers finished hooking up the modality tracers than I was fumbling for the intercom switch above the workbench.

"Hey, come in here a minute, and bring some coffee with you, will you?" I requested.

"Just as soon as I finish this fascinating chapter on 'Traumatic Shock,' " replied the Wife through the intercom.

"Listen, sister," I hissed evenly, "we're standing on the threshold of electronic history. In all probability this little item I've just completed may well change tomorrow's society. This is no time for you to keep your pretty nose buried in one of those ridiculous psychology books. Besides, I need your help."

"Did you know that 90% of our irrational fears are based upon childhood misinterpretations of fact?"

"Schnell, hurry," I growled crisply. "Don't come as you are. Bring coffee."

Five minutes later the door to the workshack creaked open and the delicious odor of fresh coffee preceded my spouse. I motioned her to a chair.

"Another faux pas, wired for chaos, eh?" she observed, bending a prolonged glance of instant dislike upon the newly built "Truth Detector."

"This fine instrument is genius' reply to the woeful lack of 1000% unflawed justice." I tapped the dial-panel meaningfully. "Once law organizations across the country avail themselves of my Truth Detector, crime will be erased from the face of the earth and innocent people safe from errors of investigation."

"Oh, a lie detector," she said brightly.

"No, a Truth Detector," I corrected her.

"Down through the ages man hasn't sought lies. He's sought Truth. The lie detector was a definite step forward in the right direction, but my Truth Detector moves progress ahead by miles in comparison."

She studied the control cabinet with its several tracer cables in thoughtful silence, distrust in her eyes. "It looks like a nasty gismo."

"That's only because you insist upon trying to look at everything mechanical as though it possessed human or animalistic traits. A typically feminine fault." I patted her hand. "This is a harmless instrument, designed only to reveal the truth of any matter."

"What are all those wires for?" she inquired.

"Modality tracers. One each for heart, lungs, blood pressure, pulse and skin."

"Why?"

"Well, my instrument sort of gives the conventional method of determining a reaction from the person being tested a reverse-English touch. In short, this dial here only indicates reaction when a truthful answer is given. Otherwise, it doesn't move."

"Just backwards from a regular lie detector, huh?"

"That's one way of putting it," I agreed. "Now, if you'll just sit, perfectly relaxed, while I attach the skin electrodes, the pressure cuff and the modified pickups which I made from old stethoscopes-"

"You going to test me?" she yawped.

"Well, sure." I favored her with my best, winning smile. "After all, I have to run the instrument and it's never been tested. Surely, you aren't afraid?"

"The heck you say, Buster!" She leaped from her chair and bolted for the door.

"Well, I suppose I could ask that little redhead next door to assist me." I grinned broadly. "She's a very cooperative little thing and-"

"Her and her infrared hair!" snarled the Wife, instantly leaping back into the chair. "If anybody's going to get tested it's going to be me!"

"I figured you'd see it that way," I admitted.

"Relax," I chuckled. "Just relax and answer these questions I'm going to ask."

"Ask away," she replied nervously.

"Are you over thirty?"

"Not yet and you know it!" she hotly denied.

The needle on the dial was motionless.

"Are you jealous of our little neighbor?"

"Of course not!" she tittered.

The needle stood stock-still.

"Would you like a mink coat?"

"Not especially," she said indifferently.

The needle didn't even quiver.

"How about me helping with the dinner dishes?"

"Crazy!" she agreed.

The needle swung wildly.

"It works beautifully!" I exclaimed. "Not a flicker while you were lying your head off, but the moment you told the truth - bam, how that needle reacted!"

"What a perfectly insulting thing to say!" She cried, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Nothing but the everloving truth, my dear," I assured her. "This instrument, unlike human beings, is completely dependable, entirely truthful."

"I refuse to believe it!" she muttered.

"For an allegedly enthusiastic student of psychology, you certainly find it convenient to retreat into plain old garden-variety stubbornness," I complained. "You can be very scientific - so long as it's somebody else whose emotional or mental innards are being examined; but just let one of your little- "

"What about you?" she demanded icily.

"Yeh, what about me?"

"Do you really have implicit faith in your old Truth Detector? Do you?"

"Of course I do!" I allowed. "Why shouldn't I? I built it, didn't I! I guess I ought to recognize an impartial, accurate piece of electronic ingenuity when I've put it together, component by component!"

Her smile was fetchingly evil.

"Okay, wise boy, then let's try it on you for size!"

I had walked right into that one with my big mouth wide open. But, then, it happens to .the best of us.

"You want to try it on me?" I inquired weakly.

"Edison read by the light of his own electric lights, didn't he?" She began attaching tracer cables to me. "Sarnoff doesn't refuse to view his own contributions to visual electronics, does he?" She snapped on the, switch with a competent air. "Where would the telephone be if Bell had hesitated to call his associate?"

"Yeh, but-"

"Well, then, there's no decent reason for you to be wishy-washy about letting your little triumph have at you, is there?" Her face glowed with malice.

And I saw her surreptitiously kick the plug out of the wall socket.

"Oh, ho!" I said to myself, "we're playing dirty pool!"

"Now, you stand right here where we can watch that little old needle together," she suggested, slyly; "and we'll see what kind of reactions you hand out."

I stifled my fat smile of amusement.

"Right!" I cooed naively.

"Do you think that little redhead is cute?"

"Sure!" I vowed eagerly.

The needle never wavered.

"Cuter than me?"

"Of course!" naturally.