{"id":20685,"date":"2025-03-10T12:05:53","date_gmt":"2025-03-10T16:05:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/?p=20685"},"modified":"2025-03-10T12:05:56","modified_gmt":"2025-03-10T16:05:56","slug":"arthur-c-clarke-dial-f-for-frankenstein","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/short-stories\/arthur-c-clarke-dial-f-for-frankenstein\/20685\/","title":{"rendered":"Arthur C. Clarke: Dial F for Frankenstein"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Synopsis:<\/strong> Dial “F” for Frankenstein<\/em> is a short story by Arthur C. Clarke, published in January 1965 in Playboy<\/em> magazine. The story begins with a mysterious global event: in the early morning hours, all the world’s telephones ring in unison, emitting an enigmatic sound that nobody can quite figure out. Amid the confusion, a group of engineers and scientists begin to exchange theories while reflecting on the implications of the new satellite communications network. What initially seems like a simple technical failure soon leads to disturbing questions about the excess of technology and its possible consequences.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"Arthur<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Dial F for Frankenstein<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Arthur C. Clarke
(Full story)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 0150 GMT on December 1, 1975, every telephone in the world started to ring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A quarter of a billion people picked up their receivers, to listen for a few seconds with annoyance or perplexity. Those who had been awakened in the middle of the night assumed that some far-off friend was calling, over the satellite telephone network that had gone into service, with such a blaze of publicity, the day before. But there was no voice on the line; only a sound, which to many seemed like the roaring of the sea; to others, like the vibrations of harp strings in the wind. And there were many more, in that moment, who recalled a secret sound of childhood\u2014the noise of blood pulsing through the veins, heard when a shell is cupped over the ear. Whatever it was, it lasted no more than twenty seconds. Then it was replaced by the dial tone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world\u2019s subscribers cursed, muttered \u2018Wrong number\u2019, and hung up. Some tried to dial a complaint but the line seemed busy. In a few hours, everyone had forgotten the incident\u2014except those whose duty it was to worry about such things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the Post Office Research Station, the argument had been going on all morning, and had got nowhere. It continued unabated through the lunch break, when the hungry engineers poured into the little caf\u00e9 across the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I still think,\u2019 said Willy Smith, the solid-state electronics man, \u2018that it was a temporary surge of current, caused when the satellite network was switched in.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It was obviously something<\/em> to do with the satellites,\u2019 agreed Jules Reyner, circuit designer. \u2018But why the time delay? They were plugged in at midnight; the ringing was two hours later\u2014as we all know to our cost.\u2019 He yawned violently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What do you<\/em> think, Doc?\u2019 asked Bob Andrews, computer programmer. \u2018You\u2019ve been very quiet all morning. Surely you\u2019ve got some idea?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dr John Williams, head of the Mathematics Division, stirred uneasily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 he said. \u2018I have. But you won\u2019t take it seriously.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018That doesn\u2019t matter. Even if it\u2019s as crazy as those science-fiction yarns you write under a pseudonym, it may give us some leads.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Williams blushed, but not much. Everyone knew about his stories, and he wasn\u2019t ashamed of them. After all, they had<\/em> been collected in book form. (Remaindered at five shillings; he still had a couple of hundred copies.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Very well,\u2019 he said, doodling on the tablecloth. \u2018This is something I\u2019ve been wondering about for years. Have you ever considered the analogy between an automatic telephone exchange and the human brain?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Who hasn\u2019t thought of it?\u2019 scoffed one of his listeners. \u2018That idea must go back to Graham Bell.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Possibly. I never said it was original. But I do say it\u2019s time we started taking it seriously.\u2019 He squinted balefully at the fluorescent tubes above the table; they were needed on this foggy winter day. \u2018What\u2019s wrong with the damn lights? They\u2019ve been flickering for the last five minutes.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Don\u2019t bother about that. Maisie\u2019s probably forgotten to pay her electricity bill. Let\u2019s hear more about your theory.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Most of it isn\u2019t theory; it\u2019s plain fact. We know that the human brain is a system of switches\u2014neurons\u2014interconnected in a very elaborate fashion by nerves. An automatic telephone exchange is also a system of switches\u2014selectors and so forth\u2014connected with wires.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Agreed,\u2019 said Smith. \u2018But that analogy won\u2019t get you very far. Aren\u2019t there about fifteen billion neurons in the brain? That\u2019s a lot more than the number of switches in an autoexchange.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Williams\u2019 answer was interrupted by the scream of a lowflying jet. He had to wait until the caf\u00e9 had ceased to vibrate before he could continue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Never heard them fly that<\/em> low,\u2019 Andrews grumbled. \u2018Thought it was against regulations.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018So it is, but don\u2019t worry\u2014London Airport Control will catch him.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I doubt it,\u2019 said Reyner. \u2018That was<\/em> London Airport, bringing in a Concorde on ground approach. But I\u2019ve never heard one so low, either. Glad I wasn\u2019t aboard.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Are we, or are we not<\/em>, going to get on with this blasted discussion?\u2019 demanded Smith.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018You\u2019re right about the fifteen billion neurons in the human brain,\u2019 continued Williams, unabashed. \u2018And that\u2019s<\/em> the whole point. Fifteen billion sounds a large number, but it isn\u2019t. Round about the 1960s, there were more than that number of individual switches in the world\u2019s autoexchanges. Today, there are approximately five times as many.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I see,\u2019 said Reyner slowly. \u2018And as from yesterday, they\u2019ve all become capable of full interconnection, now that the satellite links have gone into service.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Precisely.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was silence for a moment, apart from the distant clanging of a fire-engine bell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Let me get this straight,\u2019 said Smith. \u2018Are you suggesting that the world telephone system is now a giant brain?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018That\u2019s putting it crudely\u2014anthropomorphically. I prefer to think of it in terms of critical size.\u2019 Williams held his hands out in front of him, fingers partly closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Here are two lumps of U-235. Nothing happens as long as you keep them apart. But bring them together\u2019\u2014he suited the action to the words\u2014\u2018and you have something very<\/em> different from one bigger lump of uranium. You have a hole half a mile across.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It\u2019s the same with our telephone networks. Until today, they\u2019ve been largely independent, autonomous. But now we\u2019ve suddenly multiplied the connecting links, the networks have all merged together, and we\u2019ve reached criticality.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And just what does criticality mean in this case?\u2019 asked Smith.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018For want of a better word\u2014consciousness.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018A weird sort of consciousness,\u2019 said Reyner. \u2018What would it use for sense organs?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Well, all the radio and TV stations in the world would be feeding information into it, through their landlines. That<\/em> should give it something to think about! Then there would be all the data stored in all the computers; it would have access to that\u2014and to the electronic libraries, the radar tracking systems, the telemetering in the automatic factories. Oh, it would have enough sense organs! We can\u2019t begin to imagine its picture of the world; but it would be infinitely richer and more complex than ours.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Granted all this, because it\u2019s an entertaining idea,\u2019 said Reyner, \u2018what could it do<\/em> except think? It couldn\u2019t go anywhere; it would have no limbs.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Why should it want to travel? It would already be everywhere! And every piece of remotely controlled electrical equipment on the planet could act as a limb.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Now I understand that time delay,\u2019 interjected Andrews. \u2018It was conceived at midnight, but it wasn\u2019t born until 1:50 this morning. The noise that woke us all up was\u2014its birth cry.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His attempt to sound facetious was not altogether convincing, and nobody smiled. Overhead, the lights continued their annoying flicker, which seemed to be getting worse. Then there was an interruption from the front of the caf\u00e9, as Jim Small, of Power Supplies, made his usual boisterous entry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Look at this, fellows,\u2019 he said, and grinned, waving a piece of paper in front of his colleagues. \u2018I\u2019m rich. Ever seen a bank balance like that<\/em>?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dr Williams took the proffered statement, glanced down the columns, and read the balance aloud: \u2018Cr, $999,999,897.99.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Nothing very odd about that,\u2019 he continued, above the general amusement. \u2018I\u2019d say it means an overdraft of $102, and the computer\u2019s made a slight slip and added eleven nines. That sort of thing was happening all the time just after the banks converted to the decimal system.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I know, I know,\u2019 said Small, \u2018but don\u2019t spoil my fun. I\u2019m going to frame this statement. And what would happen if I drew a cheque for a few million, on the strength of this? Could I sue the bank if it bounced?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Not on your life,\u2019 answered Reyner. \u2018I\u2019ll take a bet that the banks thought of that years ago, and protected themselves somewhere down in the small print. But, by the way, when did you get that statement?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018In the noon delivery. It comes straight to the office, so that my wife doesn\u2019t have a chance of seeing it.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Hmm. That means it was computed early this morning. Certainly after midnight\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What are you driving at? And why all the long faces?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No one answered him. He had started a new hare, and the hounds were in full cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Does anyone here know about automated banking systems?\u2019 asked Smith. \u2018How are they tied together?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Like everything else these days,\u2019 said Andrews. \u2018They\u2019re all in the same network; the computers talk to each other all over the world. It\u2019s a point for you, John. If there was<\/em> real trouble, that\u2019s one of the first places I\u2019d expect it. Besides the phone system itself, of course.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018No one answered the question I had asked before Jim came in,\u2019 complained Reyner. \u2018What would this supermind actually do<\/em>? Would it be friendly\u2014hostile\u2014indifferent? Would it even know that we exist? Or would it consider the electronic signals it\u2019s handling to be the only reality?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I see you\u2019re beginning to believe me,\u2019 said Williams, with a certain grim satisfaction. \u2018I can only answer your question by asking another. What does a newborn baby do? It starts looking for food.\u2019 He glanced up at the flickering lights. \u2018My God,\u2019 he said slowly, as if a thought had just struck him. \u2018There\u2019s only one food it would need\u2014electricity.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018This nonsense has gone far enough,\u2019 said Smith. \u2018What the devil\u2019s happened to our lunch? We gave our orders twenty minutes ago.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone ignored him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And then,\u2019 said Reyner, taking up where Williams had left off, \u2018it would start looking around, and stretching its limbs. In fact, it would start to play, like any growing baby.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And babies break<\/em> things,\u2019 said someone softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It would have enough toys, heaven knows. That Concorde that went over us just now. The automated production lines. The traffic lights in our streets.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Funny you should mention that,\u2019 interjected Small. \u2018Something\u2019s happened to the traffic outside\u2014it\u2019s been stopped for the last ten minutes. Looks like a big jam.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I guess there is a fire somewhere. I heard an engine just now.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I\u2019ve heard two\u2014and what sounded like an explosion over toward the industrial estate. Hope it\u2019s nothing serious.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Maisie! What about some candles? We can\u2019t see a thing!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I\u2019ve just remembered\u2014this place has an all-electric kitchen. We\u2019re going to get cold lunch, if we get any lunch at all.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018At least we can read the newspaper while we\u2019re waiting. Is that the latest edition you\u2019ve got there, Jim?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Yes. Haven\u2019t had time to look at it yet. Hmm. There do<\/em> seem to have been a lot of odd accidents this morning\u2014railway signals jammed\u2014water main blown up through failure of relief valve\u2014dozens of complaints about last night\u2019s wrong number\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned the page, and became suddenly silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What\u2019s the matter?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without a word, Small handed over the paper. Only the front page made sense. Throughout the interior, column after column was a mess of printer\u2019s pie, with, here and there, a few incongruous advertisements making islands of sanity in a sea of gibberish. They had obviously been set up as independent blocks, and had escaped the scrambling that had overtaken the text around them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018So this is where long-distance typesetting and autodistribution have brought us,\u2019 grumbled Andrews. \u2018I\u2019m afraid Fleet Street\u2019s been putting too many eggs in one electronic basket.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018So have we all, I\u2019m afraid,\u2019 said Williams solemnly. \u2018So have we all.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018If I can get a word in edgeways, in time to stop the mob hysteria that seems to be infecting this table,\u2019 said Smith loudly and firmly, \u2018I\u2019d like to point out that there\u2019s nothing to worry about\u2014even if John\u2019s ingenious fantasy is correct. We only have to switch off the satellites, and we\u2019ll be back where we were yesterday.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Prefrontal lobotomy,\u2019 muttered Williams. \u2018I\u2019d thought of that.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Eh? Oh, yes\u2014cutting out slabs of the brain. That would certainly do the trick. Expensive, of course, and we\u2019d have to go back to sending telegrams to each other. But civilisation would survive.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From not too far away, there was a short, sharp explosion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I don\u2019t like this,\u2019 said Andrews nervously. \u2018Let\u2019s hear what the old BBC\u2019s got to say. The one o\u2019clock news has just started.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a transistor radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018\u2026unprecedented number of industrial accidents, as well as the unexplained launching of three salvos of guided missiles from military installations in the United States. Several airports have had to suspend operations owing to the erratic behaviour of their radar, and the banks and stock exchanges have closed because their information-processing systems have become completely unreliable.\u2019 (\u2018You\u2019re telling me,\u2019 muttered Small, while the others shushed him.) \u2018One moment, please\u2014there\u2019s a news flash coming through\u2026 Here it is. We have just been informed that all control over the newly installed communication satellites has been lost. They are no longer responding to commands from the ground. According to\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The BBC went off the air; even the carrier wave died. Andrews reached for the tuning knob and twisted it around the dial. Over the whole band, the ether was silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Presently Reyner said, in a voice not far from hysteria: \u2018That prefrontal lobotomy was a good idea, John. Too bad that Baby\u2019s already thought of it.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Williams rose slowly to his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Let\u2019s get back to the lab,\u2019 he said. \u2018There must be an answer, somewhere.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he knew already that it was far, far too late. For Homo sapiens<\/em>, the telephone bell had tolled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE END<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Dial “F” for Frankenstein is a short story by Arthur C. Clarke, published in January 1965 in Playboy magazine. The story begins with a mysterious global event: in the early morning hours, all the world’s telephones ring in unison, emitting an enigmatic sound that nobody can quite figure out. Amid the confusion, a group of engineers and scientists begin to exchange theories while reflecting on the implications of the new satellite communications network. What initially seems like a simple technical failure soon leads to disturbing questions about the excess of technology and its possible consequences.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":20681,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[559],"tags":[566,552,772],"class_list":["post-20685","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-stories","tag-arthur-c-clarke-en","tag-science-fiction","tag-united-kingdom","generate-columns","tablet-grid-50","mobile-grid-100","grid-parent","grid-33"],"acf":[],"taxonomy_info":{"category":[{"value":559,"label":"Short stories"}],"post_tag":[{"value":566,"label":"Arthur C. Clarke"},{"value":552,"label":"Science fiction"},{"value":772,"label":"United Kingdom"}]},"featured_image_src_large":["https:\/\/lecturia.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/Arthur-C.-Clarke-Marque-F-de-Frankenstein.webp",1024,1024,false],"author_info":{"display_name":"Juan Pablo Guevara","author_link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/author\/spartakku\/"},"comment_info":"","category_info":[{"term_id":559,"name":"Short stories","slug":"short-stories","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":559,"taxonomy":"category","description":"","parent":0,"count":418,"filter":"raw","cat_ID":559,"category_count":418,"category_description":"","cat_name":"Short stories","category_nicename":"short-stories","category_parent":0}],"tag_info":[{"term_id":566,"name":"Arthur C. Clarke","slug":"arthur-c-clarke-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":566,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":17,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":552,"name":"Science fiction","slug":"science-fiction","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":552,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":121,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":772,"name":"United Kingdom","slug":"united-kingdom","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":772,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":92,"filter":"raw"}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20685","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20685"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20685\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/20681"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20685"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20685"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20685"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}