The Vienna actress who was called the most beautiful woman in the world — and who was also, simultaneously, the co-inventor of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum technology that underlies Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and GPS. Hollywood spent thirty years photographing her face. It took another fifty before anyone noticed what was happening behind it.
Portrait · Hedy Lamarr
Born Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler on November 9, 1914, in Vienna — the daughter of a bank director and a pianist, raised in a cultured Jewish household that encouraged intellectual curiosity alongside artistic accomplishment. She appeared in Czech and German films as a teenager, and her nude scenes in the Czechoslovak film Ecstasy (1933) brought her notoriety before her name was established. At nineteen she married Friedrich Mandl, one of Europe's largest arms manufacturers and a fascist sympathiser, who kept her under effective house arrest and took her to business meetings with Mussolini and Hitler. She escaped in 1937 by disguising herself in her maid's uniform and slipping away to London.
Louis B. Mayer signed her on the voyage to America, suggested she change her name to Lamarr (after the silent film star Barbara La Marr), and sold her to the American public as "the most beautiful woman in the world." MGM photographed her face for a decade. The photographs were accurate; they were also incomplete. During her Hollywood years, working at a custom-built inventing table she kept in every home she occupied, she was developing ideas about torpedo guidance systems that the Navy's use of radio signals had made vulnerable to jamming.
In 1942, with composer and avant-garde musician George Antheil, she filed Patent No. 2,292,387 for a "Secret Communication System" — a frequency-hopping spread spectrum technology that switched radio signals rapidly between frequencies in a pattern synchronised between transmitter and receiver, making jamming effectively impossible. The patent was awarded; the Navy declined to implement it; it expired in 1959 before its relevance to military communication and, eventually, to civilian wireless technology was understood.
She received the Electronic Frontier Foundation Pioneer Award in 1997 — three years before her death — when the technology underlying Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and GPS was finally attributed to her patent. She said she was glad someone had finally noticed. She died on January 19, 2000, in Casselberry, Florida, aged eighty-five.
Delilah's intelligence — her ability to penetrate Samson's defences not through force but through sustained intimate attention — is precisely what Lamarr brought to the role: a woman whose power is cognitive and whose beauty is its instrument. The film was DeMille's highest-grossing picture at that point, and Lamarr's most commercially significant performance. The same year, she was working on an improved traffic light system. MGM knew about the film; nobody at the studio knew about the traffic lights.
Algiers is the film that established the Lamarr persona in America — the woman whose beauty is less a quality than a force of nature, something that operates on men regardless of their intentions or better judgment. She plays Gaby with a specific quality of distracted grace, as if the effect she has on others is slightly outside her own understanding. The film was a remake of the French Pépé le Moko; Lamarr's replacement of Madeleine Carroll in the role announced that a new standard of screen beauty had arrived.
Ecstasy is historically significant as the first non-pornographic film to depict a female orgasm — and as the evidence that Lamarr's screen presence existed before the MGM apparatus manufactured her persona. The eighteen-year-old on screen is already fully present: the quality that would make a decade of Hollywood photographs worth taking is already there. Mandl, humiliated by the film, tried to suppress it; his failure to do so was one of the reasons she needed to escape him.
The technical insight — that synchronising rapid frequency changes between transmitter and receiver made radio signals virtually impossible to jam without knowing the pattern — came from Lamarr's exposure, during the Mandl years, to arms technology discussions she was supposed to be decorating rather than following. The concept of using player-piano rolls to synchronise the frequency changes came from Antheil's experience with mechanically synchronised pianos in his Ballet Mécanique. The Navy, in 1942, said the idea was impractical and put the patent in a drawer. In 1997, when the EFF presented her the Pioneer Award, the technology had been in every mobile phone for years.
Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid.
Hedy Lamarr's legacy is the patent and the face — and the understanding that the same woman owned both, simultaneously, during the same years, in the same city, while working at a table in her living room that nobody at MGM knew existed. The frequency-hopping spread spectrum technology that underlies Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and GPS is used by billions of people daily, and none of them know her name for that reason.
Her quote — "any girl can be glamorous; all you have to do is stand still and look stupid" — is the biography in one sentence. She spent thirty years standing still for the camera and looking exactly the opposite of stupid. The EFF Pioneer Award in 1997 was the world catching up with what the woman in the photographs had known since 1942.