Blogroll: Trouble brewing

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is December’s article]

An oral history of pharma layoffs, the wonders of beer and some embarrassing artwork.

What do chemists do after they’ve just been laid off from their job in the pharmaceutical/chemical industry? Chemjobber is trying to gather useful information from people who have been through redundancy to “hear as much advice as possible for people who will be laid off”. Since the Layoff Project launch in mid-October, at the time of writing Chemjobber has been contacted by six people willing to tell their story. These have ranged from someone with 30 years’ experience to someone ‘freshly out of school’, and from someone clearly having an understandably tough time adjusting to life without “being able to discuss chemistry” to someone whose personal circumstances changed so drastically they could easily put the loss of work into perspective.

Wort. Mash. India pale ale. German wheat beer. You probably expect to see words like these in a blog post about beer, but how about gibberellic acid, enzyme inactivation, dextrin oligomers (with structures!) and isomerization? Regular Blogroll readers won’t be surprised to learn that the blogpost in question is by Martin Lersch, of Khymos. In his ~2,500 word post ‘Wonders of extraction: Brewing beer’, he takes readers through a thorough look at the first two steps of brewing beer: mashing and wort boiling. In his words, these “are really quite sophisticated extractions”.

And finally…what better way to decorate a new chemistry lab than to frost some pictures of molecules onto the glass doors, and onto a funky yellow glass artwork? Well, if you go ahead and decide to decorate your lab with molecular structures, perhaps you should check out at ChemBark what happened when Georgia Tech did this. If you don’t like five-valent carbon or triply bonded bridge head atoms on fused rings, you have been warned!

Blogroll: Angry chemists

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is October’s article]

Funding woes spark indignation and ire, but excellence sparks inspiration.

The release of the new research portfolio of the UK’s Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC) in July dismayed many chemists (see Chemistry World for some of that dismay) but it angered synthetic organic chemists the most. They are due to be among the first to feel the pinch of reduced funding. Rather than take this lying down, Paul Clarke of York University started off with a blog post at Sheer Lunacy that soon ended up with letters to national newspapers, cabinet ministers and the prime minister.

In response, EPSRC chief executive David Delpy argues that organic synthesis has received “a greater proportion of EPSRC support than most other areas in [its] physical sciences portfolio” and that this will be reduced so they can increase funding in other important areas. But of particular annoyance to Clarke and other organic chemists was the lack of consultation: it seems the EPSRC’s definition of ‘consultation’ is different from, among others, the RSC’s, with president David Phillips writing to Delpy outlining his concerns. The issue is so contentious that the Periodic Table of Videos crew made a video called Angry Chemists.

From angry organic chemists to inspirational ones…Dr Freddy, on Synthetic Remarks, implores Phil Baran (Scripps) to “Slow down, Phil”. Poor Dr Freddy offers this plea, because “mortals have no chance to keep up with you” and they “need a break” from Baran’s relentlessly high-profile publications! Dr Freddy suggests Baran should ‘do a Heck’: “Invent an awesome reaction, publish, disappear from the face of the Earth for some 20+ years, only to return to pick up the Nobel prize.” In a nice post-script, Baran himself commented on the post, humbly suggesting that it was his students who deserve the credit.

Blogroll: ChemBark, PI

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is September’s article]

A worrying tale of misconduct, a consideration of ‘chemical intuition’ and a very useful reference finder.

How can we distil more than five thousand words, spread across a series of blogposts, that themselves distil 167 pages of information about the misconduct of Columbia graduate student Bengu Sezen? (And I was never any good at distillations in the lab…) The series comes from ChemBark, which has doggedly (pun only slightly intended) pursued this case for some time. In obtaining the documents, under a Freedom of Information Act request, ChemBark has uncovered a fascinating story that deserves to be widely read, if only to act as a warning. Starting with ‘finicky or sensitive’ reactions, that only seemed to work with Sezen in the lab, and progressing through doctored spectra before ending with retracted JACS papers, the whole story is bewildering and depressing. The documents themselves can be downloaded, and the posts are still ongoing at the time of writing and include a discussion on the role and responsibility of Sezen’s advisor Dalibor Sames. For a summary of the case, take a look at Chemical & Engineering News.

What is chemical intuition? The question is posed — but maybe not fully answered — at the Curious Wavefunction. Is intuition, however we define it, more important in chemistry than in physics? Wavefunction thinks so, but Google doesn’t agree: ‘chemical intuition’ gets only ~31,000 hits, compared with ~135,000 for its physical counterpart. In any case, the post goes on to suggest some tips that Waveform has noticed from great chemists down the years. Don’t ignore the obvious (like colour and smell), get a feel for energetics, stay in touch with the basics, and learn from other fields.

And finally…the editorial team just love the reference resolver developed by Alex Zhurakovskyi — just type/paste in the reference in almost any style you like, and bingo! You’re directed straight to the article.

Mercury eyewash, anyone?

I imagine most or all of our readers have heard of Thomas Midgley, the chemist responsible for some ingenious solutions to refridgeration and engine knocking – unfortunately, they were CFCs and tetraethyl lead. Go and read the wikipedia for more on this fairly controversial character.

But I only just learnt that, back in ~1911 when he was working for Dayton Metal Products, he was the victim of a pretty nasty accident. The safety diaphragm on a hydrogen cylinder blew out and he was left with shards of metal in his eye. Although a doctor was able to remove the larger pieces, several much smaller fragments remained. As you might expect, this compromised his vision (and I imagine was rather painful) in one eye, which began to sympathetically affect the other one.

So what did Midgley do to remove these flecks of bismuth, tin and lead alloy? Why, by using fresh mercury as an eyewash of course! After just two weeks of application his eyes were fine again and the metal was removed.

My mind is fairly boggling at the idea of all of this…! All that I can say is: Kids! Wear those goggles/specs! Otherwise it might be your turn on the mercury fountain next…

Postscript: This brilliant story is a great example of how you can stumble across very interesting by the most unexpected pathways…Mat Todd had just suggested something interesting for us to cover in next month’s blogroll and for some reason I looked back through his Twitter feed. He’d retweeted something from ‘TastyMolecules’ (aka Martin Lersch from Khymos), which was a fairly brilliant dialogue between a chemist and his 3 year old daughter. ‘Who is this chemist?’ I thought to myself. I eventually discovered W. Stephen McNeil of the University of British Columbia Okanagan and this story is on his journal club page. You’ll note from the Ind. Eng. Chem. article that it doesn’t mention Midgley by name, so we only have McNeil’s word, which I’m prepared to take for the sake of a blogpost!

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

ICBIC15: Feeling jaded?

Greetings from Vancouver, where I am attending ICBIC15 – the international conference on bio-inorganic chemistry. As the name suggests, this is the 15th instalment of this series of conferences…or is it? There have been quite a few mentions of a mysterious ‘ICBIC zero’, which happened 35 years ago, also here at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Chris Orvig, the chair, showed us the programme from that meeting during his welcome address – as organizer, he was interested to see that there were no times for any of the talks, just ‘morning’ or ‘afternoon’! The only speaker at that conference who is also speaking this year is (no prizes for guessing) Harry Gray, who is quite a godfather of this field.

He’s not the only godfather though, and many long-standing members of this quite friendly community are giving jade anniversary lectures, to celebrate the 35 years passed since ‘ICBIC 0’. These jade lectures aren’t the plenaries, however: these are being given by speakers who have never given plenaries at an ICBIC before. All this adds up to a pretty good mix, because there have been some excellent plenaries from speakers at the younger end of the spectrum.

There is a bit of drawback to these lectures (and not just that the conference programme has been printed black and white, so the jade lectures don’t stand out like they do in the PDF): the difficulty of trying to fit a lot of work into just 20 or 30 minutes! After complimenting Ed Solomon on doing well to keep to his 20 minute slot, Harry Gray said he was going to go one better and fit 35 years of work on electron transfer in proteins into 3 slides! He just about managed…

One of the jade lectures that I enjoyed the most was from Karl Wieghardt, and he almost managed to get through his whole talk without moving past the title slide! He was talking in the radical enzymes and non-innocent ligands sessions and certainly convinced me that bipyridine and terpyridine aren’t anywhere near as innocent as people think. Terpyridine in particular can take on four electrons and thus have five different oxidation states and a variety of spin states. Although that’s not what it says in Cotton & Wilkinson, it’s what the X-ray data and DFT calculations suggest.

As this is quite a distinct and friendly community, I’m going to leave the last word to Harry Gray. In his talk he mentioned that the two most important reactions in the world are photosynthesis and respiration. As he said, they’re both firmly in the bio-inorganic field…so tell that to the organic chemists!

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Blogroll: What’s in a name?

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is August’s article]

Named reactions represent a fascinating subsection of chemistry, so we eagerly awaited the answers to Derek Lowe’s ‘Name Reactions You’ve Never Run’ blogpost. Lowe starts things off with the confession of a colleague who, despite years of experience, has never run a Diels–Alder reaction and continues with his own admission “I’ve never done a straight aldol condensation”, nor a Fischer indole synthesis. The comments thread was soon filled with people happily admitting which famous reactions have passed them by.

Who could fail to click on a blogpost with the title ‘Is earwax an organocatalyst?’. We certainly couldn’t and were rewarded with an informative post on the Chemistry Blog by Chemjobber, picking up on a Newscripts item by Steve Ritter in Chemical and Engineering News (89, 56; 2011). Way back in 1960 — in the days before blogs — budding chemist Charles Johnson discovered that his earwax accelerated the process of making colourful lake pigments. In his later life, as an undergraduate student, Johnson further found that earwax worked as a catalyst to make trans-stilbene, “although his professor didn’t seem impressed.” Chemjobber reminds us of Dylan Stiles’s blogpost on the now-defunct Tenderbutton in which he took a TLC of his earwax, which Chemjobber describes as “one of the initial triumphs of the chemblogosphere”. Who knew such an unpleasant substance was so interesting?

And finally… Mary Carmichael got so fed up with seeing marketing spiel that uses the phrase ‘chemical-free’ to describe products that she started a blog, ‘F No, “Chemical Free!”’. Among the products named and shamed so far are “chemical free sunblock and bug spray” and even a chemistry set that offers “60 fun activities with no chemicals”. That doesn’t sound like much fun to us.

Blogroll: MicKIE mouse

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is July’s article]

“What would happen, hypothetically, if a baby mouse could grow up eating only deuterated food and water? Could you make an unusually heavy mouse?” asked Sharon Neufeldt in an entertaining post on her ‘I can has science?’ blog. Assuming that the elemental make-up of a mouse is pretty similar to that of a human, Neufeldt estimates it would be 10% heavier — but not “a fat mouse, just a more dense mouse.” Of course, those readers familiar with the kinetic isotope effect and cellular function will realize that the poor, if hypothetical, heavy mouse would not last long with all its hydrogen atoms swapped for deuterium. As Neufeldt discusses, “a carbon-deuterium bond can be 6.5 times slower to break than a carbon-hydrogen bond”, which could have pretty drastic consequences to your mouse “cells won’t be able to function properly and [the mouse] will start to die.”

But what about enriching the mouse with 13C? The smaller kinetic isotope effect might help the mouse’s health, but the weight gain wouldn’t be anywhere near as striking at a mere 1.5%. Neufeldt also points out another flaw in her plan: it would cost over $600 a day to feed her mouse on commercially available 13C-labelled glucose. At that price, she said she might as well treat the mouse to three meals a day at her favourite French restaurant.

One of the most positive and publicly visible uses of chemistry has to be in art conservation and restoration so it’s great to see that Chemical & Engineering News’ Sarah Everts has launched a new blog on this topic, called Artful Science. Posts have so far covered topics as different as the chemistry behind fading blue pigments, the isotope techniques used to discover whether the influx of South American silver really did cause the ‘Price Revolution’, and using DNA from ancient Maori cloaks to track feather trade routes.

Elemental memories

In order to keep our element writing competition to the forefront in everyone’s minds, I thought I’d re-heat an old post – my first post on The Sceptical Chymist, no less! In that post I look back into the depths of time, at my first ever science lesson in school. Magnesium featured heavily, which is why I’m re-heating the post. The element has already been covered in the In Your Element series ($/£), by organometallic chemist Paul Knochel.

I still vividly remember my first science lesson back when I was a 9 year old, over 20 years ago. The school buildings were quite new (10 or so years old at the time), so the little lab was pretty well kitted out. But what the teacher, Mr Challinor, really tried to instil in us during that first lesson was the fact that science wasn’t just about Bunsen burners or any of the other complicated apparatus we were all seeing for the first time. A scientist’s most important tools, he said, are your eyes, to observe what was happening.

One of the first experiments I remember him showing us was incredibly simple, but also incredibly powerful. He told us about how atoms make up everything around us, and then about how burning something was essentially just adding oxygen to it. He probably briefly mentioned the phlogiston theory – which, like Phil Ball, I don’t think is quite deserving of the laughing and pointing we give it nowadays. After all, I remember during that first lesson thinking that most things end up much smaller after you’ve burnt them – think about how much smaller ashes are than a pile of sticks, for example. So a phlogiston-type theory fits a lot of day-to-day experiences.

In order to prove that things really do get heavier once you’ve burnt them, he carefully weighed some magnesium foil in a crucible, then set fire to it. After the bright white flame died away, he re-weighed the crucible and guess what? The weight had indeed increased.

As well as teaching us about atoms and combustion, something else he did in that experiment also stands out – and it’s probably a more important lesson than correcting what people thought 300 years ago. He got one of the class to watch over his shoulder as he did the weighing (we couldn’t all fit around the balance). This was just to show that he wasn’t making it all up, that we shouldn’t believe him ‘just because he said so’, but to show what he said had happened actually did. That’s a pretty important first lesson in science for anyone, but especially for a 9 year old: don’t just take someone’s word for it, see for yourself.

Now, magnesium was an important part of the experiment, but not the point of the experiment itself. But would I have remembered it as well without that incandescent burning whiteness? I guess I’ll never know, but the whole experience also neatly fits with a recent blogpost at the Guardian, by a teacher and filmmaker who suggests that doing experiments or practicals for the sake of it isn’t the best use of class time. Before we all leap to the defence of our favourite childhood memories, it’s worth noting that the author tries to make it clear that he’s not suggesting ditching all experiments, just making better use of fewer. See what you think.

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Blogroll: Dear chemists…

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is a slightly longer version of June’s article]

Embracing rational irrationality and a 200th birthday celebration.

“When we hear ‘chemicals’ we think death, harm, cancer, birth defects, danger, pain, poison, pollution, hazardous waste, Love Canal, Bhopal. Oh, joy!” This was part of a letter addressed to ‘chemists’ from ‘the public’ to celebrate the International Year of Chemistry, written ironically by David Ropeik as part of his guest blog for Scientific American. I’m sure you’ll forgive us for not chuckling as we read, much less ROFL’ing. Ropeik’s point, if bluntly made, was that chemists need to address the fact that the public has real fears about their exposure to ‘chemicals’. Whether or not those fears are entirely rational, he argues, chemists should embrace them as part of a wider dialogue if they are to get the public to appreciate the benefits of chemistry.

Quite a few people on Twitter thought Ropeik was at best guilty of ignoring his own advice by successfully alienating the community he was trying to advise. But KJHaxton on Endless Possibilities was able to see past the “chemist bash centred on the notion that [the IYC] exists solely to convince the generally ignorant public […] that chemistry is in fact a Very Good Thing.” Haxton concludes that the IYC “is about far more than overcoming so-called chemophobia, let’s not allow one blog post to make it so.” Neil Gussman on The Chemical Heritage blog took the advice on board: “[chemistry needs] the reality check Ropiek provided: the most powerful tools do the most damage when misused.” Magdeline Lum, however, leapt to the Defence of Chemists at Philosophically Disturbed because the “public know plenty about chemistry. They may not recognise their existing knowledge as chemistry knowledge but this doesn’t make them ignorant.”

And finally… showing chemistry in a more positive light, Google used the 200th anniversary of Robert Bunsen’s birth to create a great ‘doodle’ of the eponymous burner that brightened everyone’s day. Of course, there was more to Bunsen than just a burner, as we were quick to point out here on the Sceptical Chymist, and Michelle Francl even showed us the link between Bunsen and quantum mechanics at the Culture of Chemistry.

Moissanite: a boy’s best friend

After writing about Bunsen the other day – probably the most famous person on my academic family tree – I thought that some of the other members of the tree deserved a little more attention. One of the best things about academic family trees is the branches (unless you’re Paul from ChemBark and you’re trying to make a very fancy one for your boss’s birthday) – thanks to things like wars and multiple influences, the tree can branch in a few directions. Two of my branches end up including Bunsen, while another two include Gay-Lussac and Liebig, respectively.

And it’s the Gay-Lussac line that features one of the three Nobel laureates in my tree, about whom I’m going to blog today: Henri Moissan. Who? Exactly. Unlike Bunsen, he’s not much of a household name, although I think he’s better known in his native France than elsewhere.

Moissan definitely falls in the category of ‘chemists from Bunsen’s era whose achievements are overlooked’, which I mentioned last time. I first heard of Henri Moissan thanks to a Newscripts article in C&EN, in which Bob Wolke mentions that he bought his wife a ring and earrings with ‘moissanite’ gemstones. As Bob says, moissanite is “every bit as beautiful as diamond and at a fraction of the price”, thanks to its higher refractive index (more brilliance) and dispersion (fire) and lack of heavy marketing (price)! Moissanite is a silicon carbide mineral named after Moissan, who discovered it in fragments of a meteorite in Arizona. (Now there’s a marketing line for moissanite – ‘with the fire of meteorites!’)

But that’s not the only link that Moissan has to gemstones (a subject currently dear to the hearts – and wallets! – of fellow editor Gav and I, whose marital statuses have both recently shifted). After his invention of the electric-arc furnace, he made significant attempts to create diamonds in the lab. It’s not entirely clear whether he was succesful: although some reproductions of his technique worked, others didn’t. Kathleen Lonsdale argues “probably not” in this letter to Nature in 1962, and I’m not going to argue with a Dame who worked out the structure of benzene in 1929.

But none of this is what Henri Moissan was awarded the Nobel Prize for, nor why he is most known in the history books (apart from the furnace – it’s mentioned in the Nobel citation. Can you imagine that nowadays?!). It was for the isolation of elemental fluorine. If there’s one thing any chemist knows about fluorine it’s that it’s reactive. Really reactive. Which is why, in spite of fluorite minerals being known since 1530, it took 74 years of effort by the ‘fluorine martyrs’ of the 19th century to isolate it, defeating Davy, Ampère, Gay-Lussac and Faraday along the way (check out the fact box in this Angewandte Chemie article about Moissan).

How did Moissan do it? If you’re faint-hearted, look away now. He just electrolysed a solution of KHF2 in HF – being careful to keep the evolving hydrogen gas away from the fluorine gas, of course. Ampere had suggested the electrolysis of HF decades before, but its poor conductivity meant it didn’t work – Moissan’s addition of KHF2 was the crucial insight. And this method is still pretty much how it’s produced today.

Tragically, Moissan died fairly young at the age of 54, just a year after receiving the 1906 Nobel prize – he was just the sixth recipient. According to this rather picturesque article from Nature in 1931, there’s a plaque commemorating him on the school he attended as a boy in Meaux (where brie was born and where Henry V died). It’s interesting and somewhat inspiring to see that he didn’t excel at school, failing to achieve the grade needed for university and only passing it a few years later. So if you’re a keen but failing student at school – don’t give up! You might win a Nobel Prize one day…

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)