I honestly believe that the next big leap in immersive

The words of Douglas Trumbull, “I honestly believe that the next big leap in immersive technology will be very much like Brainstorm,” are not merely the reflections of a filmmaker, but the prophecy of a visionary. In these words, he invokes Brainstorm, his 1983 film that imagined a device capable of recording the full range of human experience—sight, sound, thought, even emotion—and transmitting it directly into another mind. Though born in the realm of cinema, this vision points toward the destiny of immersive technology, which seeks not only to show us other worlds, but to let us inhabit them fully.

In ancient times, the dream of entering another’s mind was the domain of poets, mystics, and seers. Shamans claimed to walk in the dreams of their people, and prophets spoke of visions given by the divine. Yet what Trumbull saw was a path by which human craft and technology could one day give form to these age-old longings: the power to share experience directly, to step inside another’s joys, sorrows, and truths. This leap would be unlike the mere progression of better screens or sharper sound. It would be a transcendent shift, breaking the wall between self and other.

Consider the tale of the telephone, once a marvel that allowed voices to leap across continents. At its birth, it was mocked, feared, and even resisted. Yet it became the bridge by which families separated by oceans could still hear the familiar tone of love. In the same way, immersive technologies—virtual reality, neural interfaces, shared simulations—promise to shrink the distance not only of space, but of consciousness itself. What once seemed fantasy, as in Trumbull’s Brainstorm, is slowly emerging through the restless striving of human invention.

Yet in this vision lies both hope and peril. For if men can truly share their inner worlds, then empathy may flourish as never before. The walls of prejudice and misunderstanding may crumble when one can feel, for a moment, the suffering of the stranger or the triumph of the outcast. But equally, such tools may be turned to control, to manipulation, to indulgence in false realities that weaken rather than strengthen the spirit. Thus, Trumbull’s belief is not a simple prediction of progress, but a warning that humanity must wield such power with care.

The lesson here is profound: every great leap in technology magnifies not only our abilities, but our moral responsibilities. Just as the printing press spread both enlightenment and propaganda, and the internet has brought both unity and division, so too the immersive tools of tomorrow will reflect the hearts of those who shape and use them. The true challenge will not be the perfection of circuits or code, but the cultivation of wisdom in their use.

Practical action for those who walk in this unfolding future is thus clear. Engage with new immersive tools not as passive consumers, but as creators of meaning. Seek experiences that expand compassion rather than numb the senses. Use these instruments to deepen education, to heal minds, to connect distant souls—rather than merely to escape the burdens of life. Remember always that technology mirrors the intent of its master. If your purpose is noble, the result may uplift the world.

So let these words of Trumbull be carried as a torch: the next leap will not be small, nor will it be harmless. It will be as if humankind steps into the inner sanctum of thought itself. Enter this era with reverence. Walk into it as one handling sacred fire. For if guided by wisdom, it may become the bridge to a more compassionate and unified humanity. But if neglected, it may unravel the very fabric of the soul. Thus, the future rests not only in invention, but in the spirit of those who dare to wield it.