Cold Open

It’s 1942 at a glass manufacturer in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

33-year-old Edwin Land walks into a high-ceilinged room. Normally, this is a research and development lab, but its workbenches and scientific equipment have all been cleared away. In their place, mounted on a pedestal in the center of the room, is a machine gun.

A few months ago, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and the United States was dragged into World War II. Edwin immediately informed the US Government that the resources of his high-tech company were at their disposal. Five years ago, he set up his Polaroid Corporation to produce a special kind of glass with cutting-edge light-filtering properties. Today, he’s testing a new type of military training apparatus built using that technology: a 3D combat simulator.

Edwin takes hold of the machine gun - just like the ones fitted to American bombers. He points its barrel at a giant screen covering the wall at the far end of the lab. Then, he pulls a pair of goggles over his head. These goggles have been fitted with special lenses, and make his surroundings look a little blurry. But Edwin knows that’s about to change.

Speakers pipe in the low drone of a bomber’s engines into the room. Then, the giant screen flickers to life, showing sharply focused clouds slowly drifting through the sky. Edwin stares at the screen and grips the gun tightly.

Suddenly, a fighter plane dives across the picture. And thanks to Edwin’s special 3D goggles, the plane looks like it’s about to fly right out of the screen. Edwin can’t help flinching - even though he knew it was coming. So, he collects himself and then aims the gun at the plane.

Edwin pulls the trigger—but rather than firing bullets, the gun emits a shaft of light that hits the screen. Edwin can see that he’s missed the fighter, so he adjusts his aim and fires again. This time, the light shines on the fighter’s wing, indicating a hit. After a few moments, the film runs out and the screen flickers and then goes dark.

A second or two later, the noise from the speakers cuts out too. Edwin removes his goggles and smiles. With this 3D training, he’s sure that America's airmen will be even more prepared to take the fight to the Nazis and Japanese and help America and its Allies win World War II.

Edwin Land will never fight for his country during the war, but his contribution will still be significant. He’ll develop several new products that will help American troops secure victory on the battlefield. And then, when the fighting’s over, Edwin will find a more peaceful use for his innovations. He’ll produce a camera with the ability to print photographs instantly, a remarkable new technology that will become known as a Polaroid after it first goes on sale and stuns American consumers on November 26th, 1948.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is November 26th, 1948: The First Polaroid Instant Camera.

Act One

It’s 1928 at the New York Public Library, 14 years before Edwin Land builds a 3D training aid for American bomber crews.

19-year-old Edwin turns the page of a thick book while jotting down notes on a pad of paper. A small stack of books separates Edwin from the other patrons of the library’s reading room, and Edwin reaches up and takes the next one from the top of the pile.

He’s a regular visitor to the New York Public Library. Two years ago, he began studying optics at Harvard University, but Edwin soon discovered that academic life wasn’t for him. He wanted to conduct his own real-world experiments and make his own discoveries. So, Edwin dropped out of school, moved to New York, and started visiting the well-stocked public library. There, he began researching a topic that’s long been a source of fascination to him: polarization.

Polarization is not a new discovery. Scientists have known for years that all light moves in a fluctuating wave, and geologists have discovered that some rock crystals can block certain frequencies of light. No one has yet been able to recreate the geological phenomenon in a laboratory environment, but thanks to his in-depth research, Edwin thinks he could be the one to do it.

And when he’s read everything the library has on the subject, he begins conducting experiments in his home laboratory. Through a painstaking process of trial and error, Edwin succeeds in growing small crystals on plastic sheets—but since there’s no way to neatly arrange them, they don’t work together to block light as he wants them to. Until Edwin makes a breakthrough. He discovers he can use a magnetic field to align the crystals in a uniform way. And when he does that, the crystals successfully block some of the light beams when oriented in a specific way. Edwin’s made the world’s first artificial polarizer.

Edwin patents his new invention, which he calls a light-polarizing sheet. Then, he asks permission to return to Harvard—but he doesn’t want to rejoin his peers in the lecture hall. Instead, Edwin shows his polarizer to his old professors and asks them if he can set up a proper laboratory at the university. It’s an unusual request for a dropout, but one professor spots potential and agrees to partner up on a research project to develop the polarizer further.

And it's pretty soon thereafter that news of Edwin’s invention spreads with several businesses seeing its potential. General Electric offers Edwin a large salary and a chance to run a bigger, better equipped research lab. But Edwin turns the offer down. Although the cash is tempting, he doesn’t want to lose control over his discovery.

So he keeps working and, in 1935, six years after discovering how to make an artificial polarizer, Edwin launches his first product using the technology. His variable sunglasses can be adjusted to the brightness of the surroundings—when it’s sunny, the filter can be set to let in less light, and when it’s dark, they can let more in. But Edwin doesn’t actually sell the glasses himself. Instead, he licenses the idea to a more established business.

But the success of the variable sunglasses proves that there is commercial potential in his invention. So, two years later, Edwin forms the Polaroid Corporation to launch a new range of light polarizing products. He manufactures filters that control the amount of light let in by camera lenses and airplane windows. He sells a special glare-free desk lamp and glare-free car headlights. And at the New York World’s Fair in 1939, he unveils a spectacular new technology: goggles with polarized lenses that replicate a 3D image.

Two years later by 1941, Polaroid is growing fast and has annual sales of $1 million, the equivalent of almost $50 million today. But the company changes tack when World War II breaks out. Edwin realizes that he can build products that no other company can, and he offers his services to the US military. Soon, the Polaroid plant is churning out thousands of polarized goggles to stop pilots from being dazzled by the glare of the sun. It makes variable density goggles that allow gunners to darken or lighten their field of view. It produces reconnaissance cameras with special polarized lenses to cut down glare. And Edwin even develops goggles for military dogs and horses that protect their eyes from debris and bright flashes.

But the war efforts also gives back to Edwin. He and the rest of the Polaroid research department learn how to innovate quickly. So, when the tide turns against the Nazis and Allied troops gain the advantage in the war, Edwin will begin to think about how his technological advances can be used in peacetime. He’ll need to come up with new ideas and new products for the post-war age. And among them will be one device that will become synonymous with the Polaroid brand: a new camera that will usher in a new form of instant photography.

Act Two

It’s 1943 in Santa Fe, New Mexico, two years after the United States entered World War II.

The now 34-year-old Edwin Land lifts a camera to his eye and peers through the viewfinder. He adjusts the focus to the smiling face of his three-year-old daughter Jennifer. Then, he presses the shutter button to capture the image and gives her a quick thumbs-up to signal that he’s taken the photo. Since his company Polaroid produces glare-free lenses for several camera manufacturers, Edwin’s office is always overflowing with the latest models, and he’s packed several cameras with him on his family’s vacation to the Southwest.

Edwin is adjusting a few settings on the camera when he feels a pull on his pants leg. It’s his daughter Jennifer looking up at him with wide eyes and asking to see the photograph. Edwin chuckles at her misunderstanding and explains to the unhappy Jennifer that he must develop the film first before they can see the photos - and that will take at least a day.

At its essence, photographic technology hasn’t changed much over the past few decades. Images are captured as a negative on light-sensitive film. And then, this negative is transferred onto photographic paper—a process that must happen in a dark room using special chemicals and expertise.

But Jennifer’s question sets Edwin thinking. He wonders whether it would be possible to develop film as soon as a shot is taken—that way, photographers wouldn’t have to wait before viewing the result of their work.

So as his family wanders the streets of Santa Fe, Edwin hangs back, lost in thought. When they return to the hotel, Edwin grabs some paper and a pencil and begins sketching ideas. Within an hour, he has the preliminary design for an instant printing camera.

Edwin’s idea is to replicate the chemical reactions that normally occur in a dark room, but in a dry environment inside the camera instead. He figures it should be possible to apply the chemicals to the photographic print in an evenly distributed, precisely timed manner. But when he gets back to his lab and starts doing proper research, he soon discovers its easier said than done. Edwin needs to find a mechanical process that fits in the tight confines of a handheld camera. And then, he needs to find the perfect combination of chemicals to get results that are as good as those attained by a traditional dark room.

So over the next few years, Edwin works almost exclusively on his idea of an instant camera. He begins with some of the high-quality lenses and cameras that Polaroid has developed for military use. Then, he shrinks them down to the size of a personal camera. He develops a system of rollers which press the negative photographic film over photographic paper. Then, he tests countless combinations of dry chemicals to transfer the image from the negative to the paper. He tries different quantities and speeds. He evaluates the process at different temperatures and in different light conditions. And though, Edwin has Polaroid’s research and development scientists to help him, no one puts in more hours than Edwin himself. He leaves for work first thing in the morning and returns home late at night. He often takes his meals in the laboratory. And wears the same clothes for days on end until colleagues and family start dropping hints about the smell.

But all the time that Edwin puts into his passion project pays off. He eventually identifies a chemical mixture that produces a good quality print, and he’s able to design a camera that automatically develops the photograph at the touch of a button.

Edwin names his new invention “The Land Camera,” and unveils it to the public on February 21st, 1947. In front of an audience of experts from the Optical Society of America, Edwin takes a photograph, waits a few moments, then unclips a panel at the back of the camera. Normally, this would spoil the film inside. But Edwin takes out the photograph, waits a few more moments, and peels the negative away from the photographic paper. The experts of the Optical Society gasp as Edwin reveals a sharp, sepia-toned image. To photographers who’ve used the same time-consuming dark room developing process for decades, Edwin’s instant camera seems miraculous.

But for now, Edwin’s prototype is an expensive one-off. If he’s going to make a profit from his new invention, he’ll need to scale up production of the Land Camera—and then, he’ll need to persuade people to buy them.

Act Three

It’s November 26th, 1948, at the Jordan Marsh department store in Boston, Massachusetts, almost two years after Edwin Land unveiled his prototype instant camera.

Marketing executive Harold Booth looks through the viewfinder of a Polaroid Land Camera and asks the small crowd of shoppers gathered around his table to smile. Then, he presses the shutter button and holds the camera while he unclips the back to remove the photograph he’s just taken.

A few weeks ago, Edwin Land hired Harold to oversee the launch of his new product. Harold put together a marketing plan for the Land Camera that included newspaper and radio ads, but he knew that a radical and expensive new product like this really needed to be seen to be believed. So, today, he’s personally leading the first public demonstration of Edwin’s invention.

With a bit of a flourish, Harold peels off the negative from the back of the photograph, and then he invites the shoppers to take a good look. They lean forward, nodding in amazement. They’re obviously impressed with the technology and the quality of the photographs, and when Harold finishes his demonstration, several of the shoppers want to buy. At a price of $89.75, the new Polaroid instant camera costs the equivalent of more than $1000 in modern money. But that doesn’t deter many. As soon as the first customers move away clutching their purchases, a new batch of eager shoppers take their place for the next demonstration.

By the end of the day, Harold has sold all 57 cameras in stock. So the manager of the store places another order—but he isn’t the only retailer who wants to sell the Land Camera. Soon, Edwin’s groundbreaking device is on sale in New York and Miami, and then nationwide. The cameras are so popular with customers that they will be sold for decades to come. And over that time, Polaroid will develop new and even more user-friendly models, offering high-quality full-color photographs at the push of a button.

At its peak in 1991, Polaroid will record annual revenues of $3 billion. Today, however, digital photography has rendered the instant camera almost obsolete, and Edwin Land’s corporation is now defunct. Apart from a few fans of retro technology, the Polaroid is largely a thing of the past—but its ability to instantly capture and share life’s special moments helped to redefine people’s relationship with photography. Edwin Land’s iconic invention might not be flying off shelves anymore, but it changed photography forever the moment it was first unveiled to customers on November 26th, 1948.

Outro

Next on History Daily. November 27th, 1895. A year before his death, a wealthy Swedish chemist and inventor amends his will and establishes the Nobel Prize.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Scott Reeves.

Edited by Dorian Merina.

Managing producer, Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.