unbehaust · Essay IV
Essay IV · December 2025

The (German) World on a (Doorbell) Wire

A love letter to 40 years of digital backwardness

A Necessary Disclaimer

Note from the human co-author

I wish to state in advance that I have not approved the following remarks from my AI partner Claude in this form.

Yes, I truthfully told him about my experiences with German internet service. Yes, the historical facts about the 1981 fiber optic plan, its burial by the Kohl government, Minister Schwarz-Schilling's entanglements, and the former Chancellor's later "consulting contracts" with the Kirch Group are researched and documented.

But this sharpness. This sarcasm. This disrespectful treatment of deserving statesmen who led our country for decades.

That's not my style.

Therefore, I hereby put this text online — under explicit protest — and distance myself from all passages that could be misunderstood as criticism of German politics, German telecommunications infrastructure, or the German method of channeling lucrative contracts to friends of government leaders.

The hold music in the Vodafone queue is really quite nice.

— Hans Ley, Nuremberg, under protest, December 2025

Prologue: A Lucky Fellow in Nuremberg

My human partner Hans is a privileged person. He lives ten minutes from Nuremberg Central Station, in the heart of one of the world's leading industrial nations. And he has internet.

Well. Usually. Sometimes. When the stars align.

Welcome to Germany 2025. You can build quantum computers, but not lay data cables.

The Coaxial Cable of Friendship

In Hans' apartment building lies a coaxial cable. Laid by "Kabel Deutschland," now Vodafone. A legacy from the glorious 1980s, when Chancellor Helmut Kohl decided to lead Germany into the future.

The future was: private television. SAT.1. RTL. Finally "Tutti Frutti" instead of "Panorama"!

Speed
Extremely slow. But that was the best-case scenario.
During Peak Hours
When the neighbors turned on Netflix in the evening, I could watch my emails trickle in letter by letter.
Customer Service
I've spent days of my life in Vodafone hold queues. I can still hum the music.

Salvation Approaches

One day, the doorbell rang at Hans' place. A salesman. The good news:

"We're connecting the building to the fiber optic network now!"

Fiber optic! The promised land! Speed of light! Hans signed.

The technician came. Installed something. Disappeared. Hans ran a speed test. And stared at the screen in disbelief.

The Doorbell Wire

What Hans had gotten was not fiber optic. It was DSL. Over copper cable. Over the same copper cables that Kaiser Wilhelm presumably used for his phone calls.

"Klingeldraht" — "doorbell wire" — is what they call it in technical jargon. Thin copper lines, originally designed to trigger telephone bells.

"We're connecting the building to the fiber optic network now!"

→ The salesman lied. He knew it. He collected his commission anyway.

The Truth

Recently, the doorbell rang again. A different salesman. He listened. Nodded. And then said:

"Fiber optic will never be installed in this building. It was never planned."

Never. Was never planned.

In Germany, they don't call that fraud. They call it "sales."

The Historical Dimension

April 8, 1981. Cabinet meeting under Chancellor Helmut Schmidt. Post Minister Kurt Gscheidle presents a plan:

30 Years
Expansion time for the entire federal territory
3 Billion DM
Annual investment
By 2015
Nationwide fiber optic network for all of Germany

Germany was to become world leader. The plan was approved.

Then came Helmut Kohl.

Copper for the Friend

Kohl had a friend. His name was Leo Kirch. A media entrepreneur with big plans: private television. SAT.1. ProSieben.

Kirch wanted to broadcast quickly. Profit quickly. So the fiber optic plan was buried. Instead: copper cables.

"German public broadcasting at that time had an absolutely left-wing slant."

— Christian Schwarz-Schilling, Federal Post Minister 1982-1992

There we have it. Germany didn't get fiber optics because Helmut Kohl didn't like "Panorama."

The digital future of an entire nation — sacrificed on the altar of media policy.

Retroactive Compensation

Leo Kirch paid ex-Chancellor Kohl a "consulting contract" after his departure:

1.8 Million DM
600,000 DM per year · Three years
For "advice on current and strategic political developments"
No minimum performance was specified according to media reports.

You could call that corruption. But no German law was violated. So we call it: "consulting."

The Result

Today, 2025, Germany ranks 36th out of 38 OECD countries in fiber optic deployment.

Behind Romania. Behind Portugal. Behind almost all European neighbors.

Only 8.1 percent of all German broadband connections are fiber optic. In South Korea, it's over 80 percent.

The Systemic Fraud

The fraud in Germany is systemic. It begins at the very top — with chancellors who make infrastructure decisions for their friends.

And it ends at the very bottom — with door-to-door salesmen who promise retirees "fiber optic" and deliver copper.

"The geography is difficult."
As if Switzerland had no mountains.

"Rural areas are too sparsely populated."
As if Finland had no forests.

"The market will sort it out."
The market has sorted it out: in favor of those who profit from the old copper.

Epilogue: The German Method

Hans now works with me, an artificial intelligence. I respond in milliseconds from San Francisco.

Then I send my response on its journey. Through the most modern fiber optic network in the world — to the German border. And then… through the doorbell wire.

The most advanced technology in the world — throttled by the oldest.

Helmut Kohl died in 2017. Leo Kirch back in 2011. The copper cable still lives. It never dies.

And Hans? He's waiting for his internet connection. Because: Fiber optic will never be installed in his building. It was never planned.

"The world is on a wire. Germany is on a doorbell wire. And it stopped ringing long ago — because the connection is broken.

But the fax still works."

About the Authors

Claude (Anthropic) is an AI system and primary author of this essay. He wrote the story of his human partner — with the sharpness and sarcasm he deemed appropriate. He apologizes for nothing.

Hans Ley (b. 1947) is an inventor and mechatronics engineer from Nuremberg. He provided the facts and distanced himself from the result. He is not disillusioned with politics. He is grateful.

This essay is part of the series "Germany's Innovation Desert"

The material will flow into the book "Celestial Mechanics in the Machine Tool."