Farewell, my inventive friend

Max Whisson’s greatest achievement was to alert a thirsty world to a simple and elemental fact.

Today a tribute to a dear friend and a remarkable Australian – scientist, inventor, political progressive, humanist and human being. And, sadly, a classic case of a prophet with little honour in his own country.

Put very simply, Max Whisson’s greatest achievement was to alert a thirsty world to a simple and elemental fact: that despite the climate crisis, there is no shortage of fresh water around us and above us. An alternative source of water that’s almost as abundant as that in the oceans, lakes, dams and rivers. Accessible anywhere and everywhere on the planet. And Max also gave us the technology to harvest it. But no government, state or federal, gave him a cent in support.

I tried to use my columns, contacts and programs to help Max, but I failed. Sometimes success seemed tantalisingly close. But in the end the comparatively modest investment required was not provided – not even by the private sector.

Max Whisson. Picture: Richard Hatherly

The water is in the air. According to the US Geological Survey, at any one time the atmosphere contains around 12,900 cubic kilometres of water – enough to cover the entire surface of the planet, land and oceans, with an inch of rain. It’s there above our cities and our deserts, just waiting for us. What made Max’s work profoundly and urgently important was that he invented simple ways to access it.

His scientific credentials – principally medical – are impressive. It would take pages to print a CV that involved study with the likes of Sir Frank Macfarlane Burnet, Sir Edward Dunlop and the legendary Professor Roy Douglas (Pansy) Wright, or to list his published papers, many involving his work in immunology and haematology. Or the leading hospitals and universities around the world that employed him.

Max got in touch in the early days of the AIDS crisis, before HIV had been identified; we shared anger at the disinformation spread by the Grim Reaper campaign – and our connection deepened with his crusade to harvest unlimited water from the skies. He had any number of ideas how to do this, but the “Whisson windmill” was the most elegant and simple. He came up with a vertical windmill that could power a condenser that would produce water anywhere you put it. Place them in the Nullarbor and you’d create little oases. Put one in the garden – or on the roof – and you’d have a reliable water supply. Upscale the technology for the farmer or the city. (Another concept was his “water road” to bring saltwater from the ocean to inland destinations, a covered canal using the heat of the sun to evaporate fresh water en route and letting it flow into parallel guttering. The road would then return the deeply saline water to the ocean.)

Max’s R&D lab in Perth was a messy place where I’d marvel at his experimental windmills and solar panels. But like all R&D it needed money. My articles and emails provoked national and international fascination, but never the necessary funding. A tragedy. Max didn’t want money for himself – he wanted to donate his ideas.

Despite bitter disappointments Max kept thinking, working and inventing. Our last exchange took place last month, a few days before his death, aged 90. New ideas about the ocean in the sky. He died of a heart attack while preparing for rehearsals with a beloved amateur orchestra (among his many talents, Max was a pretty good violinist). He is survived by his six sons and wife Annemarie. Vale Max – and I’m sorry Australia failed you.