
As the 21st century approached, the United Nations' International Maritime Organization officially ended the use of Morse code in maritime communications, replacing it with the Global Marine Distress and Safety System.
In July 1999, Reuters reported that rather than sending the familiar dots and dashes of the SOS signal, officers on modern vessels can now simply press a button to indicate various emergencies like sinking, capsizing, or being stranded in open water.
KFS, located in Half Moon Bay, California, was the final American ship-to-shore station to adopt the new system. On July 12, station manager Tim Gorman delivered the station's last message, a fitting tribute: ‘What hath God wrought,’ the same words Samuel Morse had used for the first long-distance telegraph transmission in 1844.
This is the tale of how Morse came to select it—and how his choice turned a biblical phrase of reverence into a modern, humorous reference.
Goodness, Granny, What Hath God Wrought!
In the Bible’s Book of Numbers, the Israelites find themselves at the edge of Moab, in what is now Jordan, about to cross the Jordan River into the Promised Land. The king of Moab, Balak, is not happy about their presence, so he hires a prophet named Balaam to curse them.
With the help of a sword-wielding angel and a talking donkey, God persuades Balaam that attempting to curse the Israelites would be foolish. Instead, Balaam ends up blessing them. It’s during this turn of events that Balaam exclaims, ‘What hath God wrought.’
‘Balaam and the Ass’ by Rembrandt. | Heritage Images/GettyImages‘Surely there is no enchantment against Jacob, neither is there any divination against Israel: according to this time it shall be said of Jacob and of Israel, What hath God wrought!’ he declares. This is a recognition that no curse could ever hinder the Israelites from achieving their destined greatness, along with a forecast that others will marvel at the wonders God’s power has worked for His people.
In this context, ‘What hath God wrought’ isn’t posed as a question but is an exclamation, much like Little Red Riding Hood’s ‘My, granny, what big ears you have!’ or the line from Oklahoma, ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.’ The meaning of the phrase—‘Look what God has accomplished!’—remained strong as it was passed down through the generations.
During the 18th and 19th centuries, the phrase appeared frequently in Christian sermons about the magnificence of salvation and the progress of Christian missionary work. For example, an English Methodist association declared in 1831, ‘When we take a survey of our Missions in Europe, Asia, [Africa], and America, and consider the success with which they have been favoured, we are led to exclaim, ‘What hath God wrought!’’
Morse’s use of the phrase didn’t alter its meaning, but it did serve to expand its reach and relevance.
Morse Majeure
On the evening of March 3, 1843, Samuel Morse sat in the Senate gallery, growing more disheartened with every passing minute.
For over ten years, he had poured his efforts into creating an electromagnetic telegraph machine and seeking funds for a 40-mile line from Washington, D.C., to Baltimore, Maryland. The House of Representatives had finally passed a bill granting him $30,000 for the project—by a mere six votes—but the Senate was set to adjourn at midnight, and it was looking increasingly unlikely that they would even have time to vote on the bill, let alone pass it, before the session ended. This could mean the end of Morse’s dream.
‘[I]f, by any means, the bill should fail in the Senate, I shall return to New York, with the fraction of a dollar in my pocket,’ Morse had written to his associate Alfred Vail. Eventually, a senator friend of his explained that it was nearly impossible for them to get to his bill, and the discouraged inventor retired to his hotel for the night.
So you can imagine his surprise when, the next morning, he entered the breakfast room only to be called into the parlor, where a beaming Annie Ellsworth congratulated him on his success. Annie was the teenage daughter of Henry L. Ellsworth, the commissioner of the U.S. Patent Office who had assisted Morse in securing a patent for his telegraph in 1837. After Morse had resigned himself to failure the night before, Henry had remained behind to watch the Senate pass the crucial bill with mere minutes to spare. The president signed it into law shortly afterward.
‘The news was so unexpected that for some moments I could not speak,’ Morse recalled. After regaining his composure, he rewarded Annie for being the first to deliver the news with a promise: ‘The first dispatch on the completed line from Washington to Baltimore shall be yours.’
A 19th-century illustration of Annie Ellsworth informing Samuel Morse that Congress will fund his telegraph line. | Culture Club/GettyImagesAnnie selected the phrase ‘What hath God wrought’ at her mother Nancy’s suggestion; it seemed to perfectly capture Morse’s deep conviction that God was guiding him to create a vital new tool for humanity.
‘When I consider that he who rules supreme over the ways and destinies of man often makes use of the feeblest instruments to accomplish his benevolent purposes to man … I cheerfully take my place on the lowest seat at his footstool,’ Morse later remarked.
On May 24, 1844, the day of the first public telegraph test along the 40-mile line, it was Morse who penned the four words on a piece of paper and sent them in Morse code from Capitol Hill to Alfred Vail in Baltimore. This slip of paper is now preserved in the Library of Congress’s archives, with Morse’s original penciled message traced over in ink by Annie herself.
Morse's outgoing message, traced over by Annie Ellsworth, displayed beneath a description of when and where it was transmitted. | Samuel Finley Breese Morse Papers, Library of Congress Manuscript Division // No Known Restrictions on PublicationGod Hath Wrought a Little Better Today
In the years following Morse’s first long-distance transmission, ‘what hath God wrought’ became a popular phrase used to express awe at new technological advancements, particularly in the realm of communication.
When Calvin Coolidge became the first president to give a State of the Union address via radio broadcast in December 1923, for instance, The Daily Pantagraph of Bloomington, Illinois, stated that every listener ‘must have been deeply moved by the significance of the event and the marvel of the wireless. … Indeed, it must be said again: ‘What Hath God Wrought?’
However, the phrase was also used to reflect on broader successes. In July 1929, Vermont’s Bennington Evening Banner utilized it in an article praising the U.S.’s rapid rise as ‘the mightiest, wealthiest, and most powerful nation on the face of the earth. … [A]s we look back over the years that have passed, we can truly say: ‘What hath God wrought.’” The fact that the Great Depression was about to devastate the nation in mere months makes the statement feel ironic.
It’s not just hindsight that can make ‘what hath God wrought’ seem ominous. In the mid-20th century, as the reaction to technological progress shifted from sheer admiration to more complicated feelings—confusion, fear, suspicion, even horror—the expression’s meaning transformed. It was no longer always ‘Look what God has done!’; at times, it became ‘What has God done?’
A Harrisburg Telegraph article published after the bombing of Hiroshima questioned whether nuclear weapons, described as a ‘physical and chemical demon’ and a ‘death-dealing engine of war,’ could truly bring about peace. ‘The Atomic Age has arrived. Is its arrival, in fact, ‘the greatest scientific gamble in history?’ Or does it demonstrate that ‘God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform?’ Truly, ‘What hath God wrought?’” the Pennsylvania newspaper asked.
It’s easy to think that the shift from exclamation mark to question mark occurred during this change in meaning. However, people had been using a question mark for decades; even Morse did so in his original telegraph message. It’s likely that people added the question mark simply because the phrase appeared to be a question.
Regardless of the reason, the question mark remained well into the late 20th century as 'what hath God wrought' became a sarcastic reply to the frustrating and nonstop nature of life in the Information Age. What 'hath' God wrought in burdening us with unsolicited calls, wrong numbers, song guides for push-button phones, and malfunctioning transmission towers that cause our appliances to blare radio signals?
In 1972, columnist John Crosby envisioned William Blake’s reaction to discovering ‘some jerk has gone and invented the tape recorder’ with these words: ‘What hath God wrought this time, for God’s sake?’ And in 1979, after a ‘frustrating’ practice with a new teletypewriter, Jack Laugen typed ‘My God, what hath God wrought.’ (‘God hath wrought a little better today,’ Laugen wrote after his next session.)
Morse’s cultural impact is so lasting that ‘what hath God wrought’ continues to be used in reference to new inventions today—even if the invention in question is something like Mountain Dew–flavored hot dogs or chocolate jelly bean–flavored sparkling water. Then again, who’s to say those haven’t sparked a sense of awe over what God has done for humanity?
