Some may recognize the name Bette Nesmith Graham, if only because she was the mother of musician and composer Robert Michael Nesmith, a member of the 1960s band The Monkees, who later had a successful solo career in both music (winning a Grammy in 1981) and television (appearing in several series and even working as a director and set designer). Well, his mother, the aforementioned Bette, earned her place in the history of inventions as the creator of Liquid Paper. Don’t know what that is? Keep reading.

There was a time, in the pre-digital era, when writing was an artisanal craft. Schoolwork, doctoral theses, novel manuscripts… Everything was done with pencils, pens, or ballpoint pens; at most, that now nearly extinct device, the typewriter, was used. In any case, regardless of the method employed, mistakes were inevitable—a missing or extra letter, a smudge, a wrong word… This left two options: redo the entire page or cover up the error.

For the latter, the legendary Tipp-Ex was used—a white correction fluid (to blend with the color of the paper) that was applied over the mistake, allowing for rewriting once it dried. Later, it was introduced in adhesive tape form because the liquid version was banned due to the presence of a solvent in its composition that was considered a potential inhalant drug for children. Protests from the educational community forced a reversal of the decision, and it was reauthorized.

corrector fluid inventor
Robert Michael, on the right, with his group The Monkees in 1967. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

The widespread adoption of computers and printers likely dealt the final blow or at least significantly affected sales. In any case, Tipp-Ex was just one brand of a product generically called Liquid Paper, which was once an unavoidable necessity. So unavoidable that, in fact, it had to be invented by someone whose job involved frequent writing. A typist, for example. And that was precisely the occupation of the woman we mentioned at the beginning, a Texas native born in Dallas in 1924 as Bette Clair McMurray.

According to Anglo-Saxon custom, when she married Warren Audrey Nesmith, she took his last name, and they had a son while he was fighting in World War II. When he returned, they divorced, and a few years later, in 1950, she moved into properties inherited from her late father. However, with a child to support, she decided to find a job and was hired as a typist at Texas Bank and Trust, where she gradually climbed the ranks to become an executive secretary—the highest level a woman could aspire to in the business world at that time.

In that profession, Bette frequently had to submit typed work, which meant making occasional mistakes—a common issue, especially in those early days of electric typewriters, but no less frustrating for that. However, it was in another context that she got the idea for correction fluid. Apparently, she wasn’t entirely satisfied with her salary or perhaps simply wanted to earn some extra money. Since she had some artistic skills, she offered to paint the bank’s windows with holiday decorations in the winter. While doing so, a light bulb went off in her head.

She later explained: “When an artist is lettering, they never correct mistakes by erasing but always paint over them. So I decided to use what artists use. I put some tempera paint in a bottle, took my watercolor brush, and brought it to my office. I used it to correct my mistakes.” Tempera paint is a type of paint in which the pigment’s solvent is water, and the binder can be animal fat, glycerin, casein, gum, or egg.

corrector fluid inventor
Bette with her son in 1948. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Bette applied her correction fluid to the typed work assigned by her bosses, but they weren’t entirely convinced and asked her not to use it. Perhaps the initial product was a bit rough, which led her to seek help from her son’s chemistry teacher to improve it. That collaboration proved successful because the resourceful secretary ignored the directive and continued using it for several years without anyone reprimanding her. Moreover, given its effectiveness, all her colleagues asked for some to use as well.

The next step was clear, especially in a country as supportive of private enterprise as the United States: commercialization. She started by investing two hundred dollars in the necessary materials to create the mixture of water and pigments, filling empty ketchup bottles with the help of her son and several friends. In 1956, she patented the product, naming it Mistake Out, though she later changed it to a more serious name, Liquid Paper, which ultimately became the lasting one.

Her relative success—selling about a hundred units per month—led her to make a mistake she couldn’t correct: at the end of a document for Texas Bank and Trust, she accidentally wrote The Mistake Out Company instead of the bank’s name, which resulted in her dismissal. Being free from that job allowed Bette to move from artisanal production to founding a company to operate on an industrial scale. This happened in 1960, using her home as headquarters. While she initially incurred small losses due to investment costs, she quickly overcame them, receiving orders from major companies.

In fact, Liquid Paper grew exponentially and eventually became a common and indispensable office tool. The home kitchen, where the product was made, became too small, requiring the construction of a dedicated facility in the backyard, where manufacturing, packaging, and shipping operations were conducted. In 1962, Bette met Robert Graham, a salesman who not only gave her a second last name but also helped professionalize the company by creating a network of representatives. The marriage didn’t last long and ended in another divorce thirteen years later. But by then, Liquid Paper was well established, producing 25 million units annually and employing two hundred workers.

It’s worth noting that Bette didn’t run her business with purely commercial motives but developed an entire corporate philosophy that included labor equality among employees—who could participate in decision-making—and concern for their well-being. This was reflected in hiring women, opening an on-site daycare for their children, creating green spaces for relaxation, establishing a library for employees, and prioritizing product quality over profitability.

In short, a certain humanization of work. This approach stemmed from her religious background, as she transitioned from the Methodism of her childhood to practicing Christian Science (a sect founded in the 19th century that considers itself scientific for attempting to interpret divine laws in that way), which led her to place God at the center of her business philosophy. Thus, the management of Liquid Paper was a unique combination of spirituality, professional pragmatism, and social awareness—something quite novel when she implemented it in 1975 by opening a new headquarters.

By then, the company had grown large enough to attract the interest of Gillette Corporation, which decided to buy it in 1979; negotiations had previously been held with IBM, but they ultimately declined. At the time, Liquid Paper was selling 25 million units in 31 countries, generating 38 million in annual revenue. The acquisition price was substantial —47.5 million— though Bette didn’t get to enjoy her earnings as she passed away in 1980.

Her son, Robert Michael, the one she had with her first husband, inherited half of the substantial fortune; the other half was dedicated to charitable works, including the creation of two foundations for women in need. Following in his mother’s footsteps, he established the Gihon Foundation in Santa Fe, which later launched the Council of Ideas, a think tank focused on analyzing and proposing solutions to global issues.


This article was first published on our Spanish Edition on September 25, 2018: Bette Nesmith Graham, la mecanógrafa que inventó el líquido corrector


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