Prophet or futurist? 10 technologies Verne predicted in the 19th century

Image: Albert Robida, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Before science fiction was even a thing, Jules Verne was already inventing the future in his novels. He filled his adventures with strange contraptions, daring machines, and ideas that seemed unlikely in the 19th century. The twist? So many of those daydreams turned into everyday reality. From submarines gliding beneath the seas to rockets racing skyward, Verne’s stories can be read less as fantasy and more as a premonition of what was to come. What follows are ten of his most remarkable visions, proof of how closely imagination can become reality.

Image: Victor Serban

In the 19th century, people regarded Verne’s stories as mere fantasy adventures. But flip through them today, and they feel like you are reading an early NASA mission report. In From the Earth to the Moon (1865) and its sequel Around the Moon (1869), the French writer imagines three daring men being shot into space from Florida, traveling inside a metal capsule. After a five-day trip to lunar orbit, the projectile lands safely in the ocean.

Although it was probably a crazy and far-fetched idea at the time, a century later, Apollo astronauts followed nearly the same playbook, proving that Verne’s "make-believe" wasn’t so impossible after all.

Image: Lena Koval

Jules Verne was probably one of the first to dream of machines fueled by water instead of coal or oil. In his vision, the humble liquid would be split into hydrogen and oxygen, releasing its hidden energy to drive engines of the future. For readers in the 19th century, this idea felt both magical and oddly precise, as if Verne had peeked into tomorrow’s laboratories. Today, hydrogen power is still experimental, yet it remains one of science’s most promising—and elusive—goals, holding the potential for clean energy on a grand scale.

Image: David Rodrigo

Rising from the earth like shimmering glass mountains, Jules Verne imagined ever-shining cities. He pictured towers of steel and glass that didn’t go dark at sunset but glowed brilliantly through the night, powered by the then-new magic of electricity. Inside, elevators would whisk people effortlessly upward, transforming the way cities could be built. Back then, most buildings barely climbed ten stories, and the idea of infinite skylines was almost otherworldly. Today, it’s exactly what we see through the window in any modern city.

Image: seth0s

Imagine reading about a ship that could submerge into the waves and roam the oceans like a sea creature long before such a thing was possible. That’s exactly what Jules Verne wrote about in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1870). His Nautilus was a 230-foot machine, armed with a library of 12,000 books and capable of sinking any ship.

Although Verne didn’t actually invent submarines, at the time of the book’s publication, they were no more than unreliable and primitive prototypes. If anything, Verne’s fictional vessel anticipated the technology of the submarines that now explore the oceans of the real world. His invention might have been a fantasy, but it was also a glimpse into the future.

Image: Maxim Hopman

Can you imagine having to hear the news secondhand in the town square? Jules Verne probably knew that, in the future, people would need to be informed at all times. So, he invented a daily news report delivered by voice—spoken bulletins that could be piped straight into homes and even announced at public kiosks. We can only imagine what this meant for his readers in the 19th century, but we can now easily relate to the news being available whenever we want. Long before antennas or TV screens, he foresaw a world where the latest headlines could arrive instantly, without a scrap of paper.

Image: Rebecca Johnsen

Many years ago, a machine flying through the sky as high as a cathedral with the ease of a bird would have seemed improbable. But Jules Verne’s imagination could go as far as he wanted. In Robur the Conqueror (1886), he introduces the "Albatross," a fantastic flying ship that can lift straight off the ground, hover in place, and maneuver with uncanny grace. Does this description sound familiar? That’s because Verne outlined the blueprint for the helicopter decades before engineers made it real in the 20th century.

Image: Windows

What seemed like a futuristic gadget in 1889 now feels like part of our everyday lives. In his novel In the Year 2889, Jules Verne describes the "phonotelephote," a device that allows people not only to communicate with others who are miles away but also to see each other’s faces in real time. For 19th-century readers, the idea was dazzling, almost too magical to believe. Yet today, we hardly think twice before tapping into a video call on our phones or computers. Verne essentially predicted FaceTime and Zoom calls a full century before the first computer was even connected to the internet.

Image: Or Hakim

Many decades before the first electric cars ever rolled off an assembly line, Jules Verne was already letting his imagination race ahead. In The Mysterious Island (1874), he described wagons that needed no horses, powered instead by rechargeable batteries. To 19th-century readers, the idea of a vehicle moving smoothly on its own was unthinkable, closer to magic than mechanics. Yet Verne’s vision sounds strikingly familiar to anyone who has seen a quiet electric car glide down the highway today. What was once a dream in the pages of a novel has become a daily sight in traffic.

Image: Geoff Maredi

Poetic yet technical—that was Jules Verne’s gift. Take his vision of music made not with violins or flutes, but with machines. In his once-shelved novel Paris in the Twentieth Century (written in 1863 but not published until the 1990s), the writer imagined concerts filled with sounds produced by electrical instruments. For 19th-century readers, it probably sounded absurd. Yet a hundred years later, synthesizers and electric keyboards defined popular music, proving Verne had once again tuned in early to the future.

Image: Tim Dennert

A ship that needs no fuel, gliding through space on nothing but light—it sounds like poetry. Yet Verne imagined exactly that. He described enormous sails stretched wide, catching not the wind but the faint pressure of sunlight itself and using it to push vessels across the vast silence of space. In his day, it was a dream almost too delicate to believe, like navigating the ocean with moonbeams. But the image stuck, and now scientists and space agencies are testing real solar sails, proving that his most poetic vision wasn’t just fantasy but a glimpse of tomorrow waiting to unfold in orbit.

Deep roots

11 everyday words with indigenous roots

English is a very welcoming language in the sense that it incorporates terms from many other languages from all over the world. And, as it couldn’t be otherwise, Native American languages have lent many of their words and terms to English speakers. Some traveled through Spanish or French before settling into English, and others arrived directly through early contact and trade, helping shape the way we speak today. Did you know about these 11 terms?

The word "canoe" comes from the Taino term canoa, which was first used by Caribbean islanders long before Europeans arrived. Early explorers adopted it to describe the slim, sturdy boats they saw.

Over time, "canoe" became the standard English word for a small paddled craft. Today it still carries that sense of simplicity and closeness to nature.

The word "barbecue" comes from barbacoa, another Taino term for a wooden frame used for cooking meat over fire. Europeans adopted it and applied it to both the method and the gathering itself.

Today, "barbecue" means everything from a backyard cookout to a regional cooking style. Its origins highlight the deep culinary influence of Native Americans in the nation's current culture.

"Skunk" comes from the Algonquian word squnk, which means "urinating fox" (quite a fitting term, indeed). This was an obvious reference to the animal’s strong defensive spray. Early settlers adopted the term directly.

Since English had no better name for the creature, the Native word stuck. Today, the word skunks is also used as playful slang.

The word "moose" originates from Eastern Abenaki, a part of the Algonquian family, where it meant "he strips off bark." Yes, it described the animal’s habit of tearing bark from trees.

The name entered English quickly because settlers relied on Native knowledge of local fauna. The word remains unchanged because of its accuracy and usefulness.

"Raccoon" comes from the Powhatan word arakun, meaning "he scratches with his hands." It described the animal’s clever, humanlike front paws.

Settlers adopted the term because it captured the creature’s behavior beautifully. Today, the raccoon is used as a household symbol of curiosity, not unlike the animal itself.

The term "chipmunk" most probably comes from the Ojibwe word ajidamoo, which means "one who descends trees headfirst." Early English settlers adapted the sound into today’s form.

Though the spelling changed over time, the lively image of a chipmunk racing down a tree face-first stayed.

The word "caribou" comes from the Mi’kmaq term qalipu, which means "snow shoveler," referring to the animal’s habit of digging through snow for food.

French settlers brought the word into English, keeping its descriptive nature. The name still connects the modern animal to the winter landscapes it belongs to.

"Totem" comes from the Ojibwe word ototeman, which means "kinship group." It described symbols representing clans and shared roots.

English adopted it to describe carved poles and symbolic elements. Though broader in modern usage, it still hints at the original sense of community, identity, and heritage.

"Coyote" comes from the Nahuatl word coyōtl, which was used by Indigenous tribes of central Mexico. Spanish speakers adopted it, and English borrowed later.

The word kept its meaning, and it remains one of the most direct links between the English language and Nahuatl.

The tasty avocado’s name traces to the Nahuatl word ahacatl, which refers to the fruit and to a body part as well. Spanish speakers transformed it into aguacate.

Later on, English speakers adapted it to avocado. While the name sounds contemporary and culinary, it has ancient Native roots.

The last Nahuatl word and also the last word on the list comes from the term xocolātl, which describes a bitter cacao drink that was consumed long before Europeans arrived in America. The name traveled from Spanish to English.

Though the product changed dramatically, the word survived. Today, chocolate is a universal symbol of sweetness, with rich and deeply indigenous roots.