The Forgotten Pioneer of 3D
Charles Wheatstone’s Victorian Vision
Charles Wheatstone’s original reflecting stereoscope, presented by him to The Royal Society in 1838. The Wheatstone Collection, King’s College, London Archives. Photographed by Denis Pellerin.
Before VR headsets and holograms, there was a painfully shy Victorian physicist with a cardboard contraption and a radical idea about how we see the world.
As an engineer, I often marvel at the fact that some of our most futuristic technologies have roots in 19th-century curiosity. One such figure at the heart of this story is Sir Charles Wheatstone, a true polymath, and arguably the unsung pioneer of immersive 3D experiences.
Born in Gloucester in 1802, Wheatstone eventually became Professor of Experimental Philosophy at King's College London. Though painfully shy (he allegedly whispered his first lecture to the blackboard), Wheatstone was bursting with ideas. While many know him for the Wheatstone Bridge, used to measure electrical resistance, his true legacy lies in optics.
In 1838, he unveiled the stereoscope – a device that showed each eye a slightly different image to simulate depth. It was the first time anyone had artificially recreated binocular depth perception. Imagine it: the birth of 3D vision in a wooden box.
Wheatstone wasn’t just a clever inventor, he was part of a scientific ecosystem that transformed our understanding of vision, time, and signal. His telegraphy work laid foundations for modern communication networks. He influenced giants like James Clerk Maxwell, who formalised electromagnetism, and Oliver Heaviside, his nephew, who simplified Maxwell’s equations into the concise form we use today.
Heaviside even credited Wheatstone's time-delay studies as pivotal in shaping his own thinking on wave propagation. In short: without Wheatstone, our understanding of perception and signal transmission might have arrived much later.
His work wasn't just theory – it became a cultural sensation. The stereoscope captured the Victorian imagination, bringing far-off places and people to life in three dimensions. Wheatstone gave us a new way of seeing. And in many ways, he laid the groundwork for what we now call XR.
In Part 2, we’ll explore how Wheatstone’s Victorian vision laid the foundation for what we now call XR, and why that cardboard box might just be the great-grandparent of your VR headset.