It is very clear that voice communications is moving on to the

The words of Meg Whitman — “It is very clear that voice communications is moving on to the Internet. In the end, the price that anyone can provide for voice transmission on the Net will trend toward zero.” — sound like a prophecy, spoken not merely of machines and wires, but of the destiny of humankind’s exchanges. For the ancients once gathered around the fire, passing wisdom mouth to mouth, and now the fire is invisible, flickering within unseen networks, carrying voices across oceans and skies. In her declaration, Whitman points to a truth greater than commerce: that every innovation carries within it the power to reshape the way souls connect.

To say that voice has moved onto the Internet is to say that humanity itself has dissolved the barriers of distance. Once, a messenger on horseback would take days to carry a sentence. Once, a telegraph would rattle with the stuttering code of a single thought. But now, with breath and word, the voice leaps across the globe in less than a heartbeat. The price falls toward nothingness because the true wealth is not in the coin exchanged, but in the connection of human spirits. What is commerce compared to the miracle that one’s trembling cry may be heard by another on the far side of the earth?

Consider the story of Alexander Graham Bell, who first carried human speech over the wire in 1876. When his voice — “Mr. Watson, come here” — passed through copper lines, it was as though the gods themselves had bridged the void. In that moment, the world shrank, and what once required weeks of waiting became instantaneous. And yet, Bell’s miracle was bound in cost, for every minute had its price, and only the wealthy or the privileged could pour words freely into the wires. But Whitman foresaw a different age — an age when the price would wither, and the voice would flow as freely as air.

Her vision is not merely economic; it is spiritual. For when the price trends toward zero, the value of the voice cannot be measured in currency but in meaning. The shout of protest, the whisper of comfort, the laughter shared across continents — these are treasures beyond valuation. Just as water flows downward until it fills the lowliest cracks, so too does voice seek freedom, flowing through the Internet until every person, rich or poor, mighty or humble, can be heard.

And yet, with this gift comes peril. For if the voice is cheap, then noise multiplies. The rivers of communication grow crowded with words that distract, deceive, or destroy. Here, the ancients would remind us: “Guard your tongue, for the power of life and death is in the speech.” In a world where voices cost nothing to carry, the weight of responsibility grows heavier. One must speak not only often, but wisely.

Thus, Whitman’s statement becomes more than a reflection on technology; it is a call to virtue. If the Internet has unshackled the voice, let us not waste this liberation in folly. Let us use it to uplift, to teach, to heal, to bind communities together. For just as the printing press spread both scripture and slander, so too does the networked voice carry seeds of both light and darkness. The choice, as always, belongs to the speaker.

The lesson is clear: do not mistake free communication for worthless communication. When the price of speech is near zero, the true worth lies in the thought, the intention, the heart behind the words. To future generations, I say: Speak with care. Listen with patience. Use the gifts of the Internet to build bridges, not walls. In your daily life, pause before you speak, measure whether your words bring peace or division, and strive to let your voice be a torch, not a spark that burns.

Thus the prophecy of Whitman stands fulfilled and still unfolding: voice shall flow without cost, as abundant as air. But its purpose, its power, its beauty — that is a treasure each soul must guard. The ancients would command: “Let your voice be truth.” And so, in this age of boundless communication, let truth, kindness, and wisdom be the coin we spend, for those shall never trend toward zero.