I watched the first 2 hours of Ken Burns’ “Benjamin Franklin” biopic (https://www.pbs.org/kenburns/benjamin-franklin/) , and I was honestly disappointed. I feel like Ken Burns tried to phone this one in: the imagery was lacking, too much use of anodyne stock photo and long camera dwells on it, and he skipped some of the really interesting attributes that make Ben Franklin’s story so intriguing. To me, at least. And, sorry, but using Mandy Patinkin as the voice-over for Ben Franklin was just offensive to me. Mandy’s voice is rough, gravelly, and loaded with vocal fry. There are thousands of better choices.
But rather than just complaining, I sat down and noted how I would have made it better. Over the next few days, I’ll be posting five specific attributes of Benjamin’s life that were NOT covered in the miniseries, but should have been.
Oh, and if you’re interested? Buy my book, Nothing Short of Magic, which – among many other things! – explores how Benjamin Franklin would have adapted to life today. https://amazon.com/author/enders
Ben invented Kite Surfing (sort of).
In his autobiography, Benjamin briefly describes the methodical way he taught himself to swim. And how he would challenge friends to races — and beat them. But in letters to friends, he also describes how he devised paddles for his hands and flippers for his feet, so he could go faster. And Franklin was probably the world’s first kitesurfer: he stripped down and gave his clothes to a friend. “Having then engaged another boy to carry my clothes round the pond, I began to cross the pond with my kite, which carried me quite over without the least fatigue and with the greatest pleasure imaginable.”
Franklin was about 10 when he invented this technique. This kind of ingenuity and creativity would be a hallmark of his life.
Formation of the Junto and their pledge.
The Junto, also known as the “Leather Apron Club,” was a huge part of Ben’s societal interaction while in Philadelphia, serving as the incubator for so many of his (and others’) creative ideas for making society in Philadelphia better. He started it in 1727, at the age of 21. The 12 original founding members of the Junto would all go on to be integral members in Colonial life. Ken Burns only mentioned it in passing in the documentary.
To qualify as a member, each person was also asked to stand up, and lay his hand on his breast, and answer the following questions:
1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present members? Answer. I have not.
2. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in general; of whatsoever profession or religion? Answer. I do.
3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, name or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of worship? Answer. No.
4. Do you love truth’s sake, and will you endeavour impartially to find and receive it yourself and communicate it to others? Answer. Yes.
Look, it’s trite, it’s campy, it’s perhaps overbearing, but I LOVE the intentional, explicit declaration of values and intent in this. Ken Burns mentioned it in the series, but he didn’t emphasize how much of an incubator this society was for Benjamin Franklin and his ideas.
Franklin had a list of 24 questions for consideration at each meeting (he LOVED lists) in case the “usual” discussion wasn’t up to par. One of the questions I love was, “What businesses or undertakings have failed in Philadelphia recently, and why did they fail?” It’s the targeted exploration of “what isn’t working around here, and what can we do to make it better?” that I like so much.
At 21, Franklin was the founder and the youngest member of the Junto. It lives on today, in what we know as the American Philosophical Society.
Buying cannons – the first “fire engines.”
In the 1750s there were occasional raids by French soldiers or Native Americans, particularly into what was then New England towns. Trying to be supportive, the Pennsylvania Assembly (of which Franklin was a member) desired to donate some money to the New England governments that could be used to purchase gunpowder. The Quakers in the Pennsylvania House were against it. However, they voted in favor of donating money for the purpose of “bread, flour, wheat, or other grain.”
The governor was initially advised against taking the money as it had too many strings attached and could upset the powerful Quakers. However, he replied, “I shall take the money, for I understand very well their meaning: other grain is gunpowder.” The Quakers did not object to his interpretation.
A few years later, the Philadelphia government sought to purchase some guns and cannons for defense of the city; Franklin immediately recognized the Quakers would object. “Let us move,” he said to a friend, “the purchase of a fire-engine with the money; the Quakers can have no objection to that; and then … we will buy a great gun, which is certainly a fire-engine.”
Shrewd, Ben. Very, very shrewd. Once again, the Quakers didn’t object.
While this particular example might cross the line a little bit, Benjamin really understood what made people tick, and angle through people’s peculiarities in just the right ways to get what he needed.
Killing a turkey with electricity and almost killing himself.
I can’t believe Ken Burns omitted this part. While the biography did mention, briefly, that Benjamin considered “birds killed in this manner eat uncommonly tender”, the biography didn’t mention the part where Benjamin almost killed himself. During a Christmas party with guests in 1750 in Philadelphia, Franklin had charged up a series of 48 huge Leyden jars (crude capacitors, an example is shown below) with electricity, that he would use to jolt and kill the turkey. But he got distracted and accidentally grabbed both of the wires as he was getting ready to hook up the turkey. His guests reported a bright flash and a bang like a gunshot went off. Franklin was stunned, badly, but never lost consciousness. He was sore for days.
About a year later, he published a book, “Experiments and Observations on Electricity.” It earned him unparalleled praise and admiration in both England and France; he was later bestowed with multiple honorary degrees from British universities as a result of this book. He invented the term “battery.” He came up with the idea of positive and negative charges of electricity. He invented the lightning rod. And that book earned him unparalleled praise and admiration in both England and France.
Maps.
There was an absolute dearth of maps in the biography. There was too much use of stock “nature” videography, when a map could have enabled a significantly richer storytelling experience. From French and Indian war plans to mapping the Gulf Stream (Benjamin discovered it on his trips to London and back!) to maps of Philadelphia showing how it had grown over the years, any one of these (or better, all of these) would have made the biography so much more engaging.
Below is one such map of Philadelphia from 1762, made by city surveyor Nicholas Scull. I spent hours poring over this map when writing “Nothing Short of Magic,” and it’s fascinating. So fascinating, it’s part of the book cover. I highlighted some areas that are neat: where Benjamin Franklin built his house (red circle), where the Man Full Of Trouble Tavern was (blue circle), and where Nina gave her final speech at the fledgling University of Pennsylvania (green circle). The map creator even made a handy legend in the upper right, highlighting the Quaker Meeting House, St. Pauls’ Church, the Hospital, and a bunch of other sites.
So, there you have it – a more rounded out impression of all the fascinating things Ben Franklin accomplished in his life.