Conferences to Come & Memories of a Fallen Hero

Non-conventional-energy conferences are appearing on the calendar for the next few months. It looks like I won’t make it abroad to Vienna in mid-March for the Symposium Tesla-Technologies subtitled Energy—The Motor of the Revolution, nor to a Free Energy Congress in St. Petersburg the week afterward. Closer to home is an April 10 meet­ing about Bedini technologies in Sandpoint, Idaho. Then on May 26 – 27 if you’re in Munich, Germany, check out a meeting on Energy Harvesting and Storage. That will attract conventional engineers and industries; it’s about ways to convert motion and vibrations into free energy. Nelson Camus, Ph.D., had that figured out at least ten years ago but we only heard about his inventions at the non-conventional gatherings. Times change; clean energy advances.

For dissident scientists, summer in North America brings annual meetings such as the Natural Philosophy Alli­ance, June 23 – 26 in Long Beach, California (; and the Extraordinary Technology conference July 29-August 1 in Albuquerque ( The NPA is adding a Public Day of speakers and science demonstrations, June 26 at the Cal State campus.

Finally someone published a book about the Paul Brown saga—a chapter of our energy scene’s cautionary history. The author, Florida businessman Philip H. Talbert, advocates a resurrection of Brown’s previously-stifled technolo­gies such as “photo-remediation” of nuclear waste and associated battery-sized generators of electricity. This month after I read his biography of the inventor Paul M. Brown, memories surfaced.

The first time I met Brown, in 1987 at a magnet factory in southern California, he seemed on the road to financial success—a well-dressed, handsome, 29-year-old man who was research director for a company in Portland and had already made a name for himself in Non-Conventional Energy Technology (NCET). For instance, at a NCET confer­ence several years previously he’d presented on Advanced Variable Reluctance Alternators for Efficient Power Produc­tion and then he went on to further experiments that were groundbreaking. He turned his attention to converting the natural decay of radioactive material directly into electricity without boilers and turbines. His method could have been a better way to deal with the nuclear waste problem—transmute it into safer substances instead of burying the waste and get power out of the process.

Brown was a skilled race car driver as well as a scientist. His wife Jackie, a fashion model, obviously earned his greatest pride and devotion. It looked like they were headed into an American dream life. Instead, the book about him reminded me of the nightmare aspect their lives took on a few years after that California meeting.

Last week I found my archived documents related to the work of Paul Brown. There was a gracious letter thanking me for an August, 1991, letter of support “during my time of crisis.” I dug further; a slightly earlier letter from him “to those who know me or my work” reminded me why I’d written a character reference. Brown had said, “I am being wrongly accused of heinous acts, and I must prove my innocence in a court of law. These past few months have been a terrible burden on my family, friends, and even the company. The next 30 years of my life are at stake because I have been accused of drug manufacturing.”

He had been falsely accused and was forced to defend his character and even the technology he worked hard to ad­vance. At that time he’d already been active in new energy research for at least 15 years and had publicly presented his findings related to magnetic energy, electro-gravitics, resonant nuclear generators, and his findings about pio­neering inventions of Alfred Hubbard and T. Henry Moray.

Later, he told me that during the so-called legal search, even the ceiling and walls in his Boise, Idaho, house had been torn apart. He had been jailed and released, lost his house and his wife was assaulted—all within a year. Then his mother’s car was pipe-bombed.

What was that about? His life had been going well beforehand. He had presented his discoveries to meetings abroad and to the prestigious Intersociety Energy Conversion Engineering Conference. His company was making waves in financial circles; Fortune magazine had said his venture was on the rise. The company was proudly offering the world a wastebasket-sized battery that used spent nuclear-plant waste; the battery was said to be able to produce enough electrical energy to power five homes at less than half the current rate per kilowatt-hour.

Interrupting the flow of this story, I’ll note my personal prejudices. Although Brown’s nuclear battery was revolu­tionary yet based on accepted but overlooked science, I admit to having a knee-jerk aversion to anything that could be misconstrued as a go-ahead to the nuclear fission industry’s production of dangerous wastes. In my view, the radi­ation burns on Paul’s hands were mute testimony to the destructive-to-life materials that he experimented with.

I’ve been more interested in his earlier work with magnetic and electrostatic motors and generators. Part of the genius of Paul Brown was his ability to look outside of the confines of mainstream scientific thinking and to run ex­periments that actually tested non-conventional theories. He understood how magnetic fields could do work and why that doesn’t violate the physics law that says energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Non-conventional magnetic generators don’t create energy; they convert a previously-unknown form of energy into a way to generate useful elec­tric power. Regarding that form of energy, Paul said that, “Many researchers have independently come to the conclu­sion that a high-frequency dynamic aether exists.”

I wonder if the earlier work of the brilliant Paul Brown should be revisited too.

Philip Talbert’s Book

The Half-Life of a Nuclear Battery by Talbert is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Paul Brown as “a true genius whose life was cut far too short of his goal in his relentless quest to make clean, cheap, safe, and abundant energy available for all mankind.”

Talbert’s own career includes lecturing at a university and authoring business and academic works. He’s listed in Who’s Who in Executives and Professionals. At one point he was CEO of a small company which gives itself credit for discovering Brown’s genius. Talbert says he wrote the book to tell people about how powerful interest groups, with vast resources to spend, use government agencies as tools for stifling or snuffing out potential competition.

He hoped to show how those interest groups discredit and suppress development of important alternate energy technology. So far, these interest groups have effectively safeguarded their stranglehold positions in both the eco­nomic and political arenas, he says. As a businessman he also realized that the book could warn other would-be ener­gy entrepreneurs and inventors about what not to do—the minefields to avoid.

Fatal Mistake?

Talbert looks back at a 1988 meeting at the Office of Naval Technology (ONT) in Arlington, Virginia. He believes that his own spontaneous words at that meeting were “the primary catalyst to the long siege of various government intervention activities” added onto other interference that his company’s project with Brown had already experi­enced.

Paul Brown had by then invented the Resonant Nuclear Battery, and he and Talbert were in Arlington to discuss it and a proposal submitted on their behalf by a Naval Air Development Center. If successful, the proposal would have meant more than a million dollars of funding toward a Resonant Nuclear power supply for a type of airborne sensor.

In the large meeting room at ONT, technical discussions with enthusiastic scientists and engineers, in uniform or civilian clothes, had been going for about an hour when Talbert noticed a bearded gentleman come in and take a seat in the back of the room. The room became quiet when that man asked his one question—what would the Navy get out of it if the Navy funded preliminary development of this power supply? Talbert replied to him that the Navy would get exclusivity for its use in Airborne Sona Buoys and related applications.

That was not good enough, Talbert recalls. The gruff gentleman said the Navy wanted full exclusive rights for all military applications.

Looking back at that moment, Talbert figures that he and Brown were probably a bit too cocky for their own good, having recently entered into an agreement with the Atomic Energy of Canada to use its facilities for jointly develop ing the nuclear battery technology. An AEC subsidiary was the largest producer of industrial and medical radioiso­topes in the world. However, his response at the meeting was also influenced by a warning a few months earlier from General Daniel O. Graham, former military advisor to President Ronald Reagan and known as the father of the Strategic Defense Ini­tiative program. Surprisingly, the patriotic, highly-decorated general had cautioned Brown and Talbert, “Whatever you do, don’t let the military get control of this technology.”

Talbert’s reply to the bearded man, therefore, was that in no way would the company give those exclusive rights for only $1.2 million dollars. Further, “we’re about to start full-scale development with the Canadian government, thank you. So we can just come back to see you after the technology is fully developed and discuss purchase orders with the Navy at that time.”

Suddenly the building’s fire alarm went off and everyone was ordered down eight flights of stairs. It turned out to be a false alarm, but the meeting was over. In the evacuation confusion, Brown and Talbert later realized, the Navy ended up with proprietary documents that the inventor and business partner had not intended for them to keep.

Talbert found it strange that neither he nor Brown saw the mysterious bearded man exit the building. The meet­ing was to be rescheduled but that never happened.

After describing that crucial meeting, the biography explores various obstacles thrown in Brown’s path— problems with the Idaho State Securities department, the tax department, radiation control agents; time- and money-wasting promises followed by stalling and stonewalling from other agencies; a negative article in Forbes magazine; devastation of their company caused by a slick con man; and that false charge of drug manufacturing.

The book chronicles the false-charge incident. Brown had ordered a chemical from Eastman Kodak for a personal experiment involving his race car. As do most inventors, he had laboratory workspace for experiments at his home as well as at work. Talbert says Kodak should have known that Idaho was one of four states requiring a special permit for receiving that particular chemical, but Brown had received no warning. As soon as the shipment arrived, the govern­ment’s regulatory agency employees burst into his home in the middle of the next night. The house, cars, and person­al belongings were seized, and an $8 million dollar tax lien was filed against Brown. After the family suffered further outrages in the following months, a jury voted, 11 to one, to acquit Paul Brown.

For some reason the prosecution was going to re-try this case. Talbert talked to trial attorneys and was told that no district attorney takes a case to trial a second time if the hung jury was a vote of 11 to one. Later one of the prose­cutors confided to Brown’s lawyer that the prosecutor’s office was being pressured to do so by an unnamed federal agency. Talbert however had a friend, prominent in the legal field, who finally convinced the prosecution to dismiss the case and the tax lien.

With their previous company having been wrecked by a corporate raider, Talbert and Brown were less often in contact during the last part of Brown’s life. Brown never gave up on his invention for converting the decay of iso­topes—materials taken from nuclear wastes—directly to electrical energy without going through a heat process, such as making steam for a boiler, or any other thermal cycle.

At the age of 43, Paul Brown was killed in a late-night street race in Idaho in 2002. Talbert relies on secondhand reports when writing about that tragic event.

Why am I telling you about this book? The main reason is that this story about what can happen to a small compa­ny ends with hope of another life for Brown’s transmutation technology and hope for freedom from what Talbert calls fossil fuel masters who enslave the people.

Talbert concludes that “Safe, cheap, clean and abundant energy does exist. We just haven’t been given access to it…. We just have to hope and pray that it can not only be ‘rediscovered,’ but allowed to be fully developed in the near future with minimum interference from the various special interests groups and, more importantly, from our own government.”

Jeane Manning has blogs at and www.Break

By Jeane Manning

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