At the Origins of Electroculture: A Retrodictive Modelling of Bertholon's 18th-Century Electrovegetometer in the Pre-Corona Regime

This study employs a quasi-steady ohmic model to retrodictively analyze Bertholon's 18th-century electrovegetometer, revealing that while the device could generate localized high electric fields capable of producing luminous "aigrettes" during storms, its fair-weather influence on plant growth was likely subtle and highly restricted to the immediate vicinity of its tips.

Original authors: Thierry Dufour

Published 2026-06-10
📖 4 min read☕ Coffee break read

Original authors: Thierry Dufour

Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer

Imagine you are standing in a field on a sunny day. The air around you isn't just empty space; it's like a giant, invisible battery. The ground is one side of the battery, and the sky (specifically the ionosphere) is the other. There is a tiny, constant flow of electricity moving through the air between them, like a very slow, silent river.

In the 1700s, a French scientist named Abbé Bertholon had a wild idea. He thought that if he could catch this "atmospheric electricity" and gently pour it onto his crops, the plants would grow better. To do this, he built a device called an electrovegetometer.

This paper is a modern detective story. The author, Thierry Dufour, used a computer to rebuild Bertholon's machine and see if it actually worked the way Bertholon thought it did. Here is what the study found, explained simply:

1. The Machine: A Passive Lightning Rod for Plants

Bertholon's device didn't have a battery or a plug. It was entirely passive, like a windmill that doesn't need an engine.

  • The Top: A tall wooden pole with a sharp metal point at the very top, reaching up into the sky.
  • The Bottom: A long arm hanging down over the crops, ending in a "crown" of many sharp metal points.
  • The Goal: The top point was supposed to catch electricity from the sky, and the bottom points were supposed to release it gently onto the plants.

2. The "Sunny Day" Test: A Tiny Ripple

The computer simulation first tested the machine on a calm, sunny day (what scientists call "fair weather").

  • What happened: The sharp points did create a stronger electric field right at their tips. Think of it like a funnel: the wide, slow river of electricity in the air gets squeezed into a tiny, fast stream right at the tip of the needle.
  • The Catch: This "funnel" effect only worked for a few millimeters or centimeters around the metal. It was like shining a flashlight in a dark room; the beam is bright right at the source, but it fades to darkness just a few inches away.
  • The Result: The amount of electricity reaching the plants was incredibly small—trillions of times weaker than what you might need to make a noticeable difference. It was a "gentle" influence, but likely too subtle for the plants to feel or for Bertholon to measure with 18th-century tools.

3. The "Stormy Day" Test: The Spark

Next, the researchers simulated what happens when a storm is nearby. In a storm, the "battery" in the sky gets charged up much higher, and the flow of electricity becomes much stronger.

  • What happened: Under these stormy conditions, the sharp points on the machine got so much electricity that the air around them started to glow.
  • The "Aigrettes": Bertholon wrote about seeing "luminous aigrettes" (glowing fringes) on his device. The computer model confirms that under storm conditions, the electric field at the tips would be strong enough to create exactly this kind of glow (similar to "St. Elmo's Fire" seen on ship masts).
  • The Result: The machine could physically produce these glowing sparks and release a burst of ions onto the crops, but only when the weather was already wild and stormy.

4. The Shape Doesn't Matter Much

The researchers played with the design in the computer. They made the top point blunter, sharper, or replaced it with a small crown.

  • The Finding: It didn't matter much what the top looked like. As long as there was a tall pole to reach up into the sky, the bottom "crown" of points did the heavy lifting. The tall pole acted like a bucket, catching the storm's energy and dumping it into the bottom points. The specific shape of the top tip was a minor detail.

The Bottom Line

This study doesn't say Bertholon was wrong about the existence of atmospheric electricity, but it suggests his expectations about its power were a bit too optimistic for calm days.

  • On sunny days: The machine was like a whisper. It created tiny, localized electric fields that likely didn't do much for the plants.
  • On stormy days: The machine was like a shout. It could create visible glowing sparks and release a significant amount of electricity, but this only happened when the weather was already dangerous and chaotic.

In short, Bertholon's device was a clever piece of engineering that could physically interact with the sky's electricity, but it was likely too weak to act as a reliable "plant fertilizer" on normal days. It was more of a weather detector that happened to glow when a storm was near, rather than a powerful tool for growing crops.

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