Deadly progression

Evan Zabawski | TLT From the Editor January 2013

Why foresight can be more important than hindsight.
 


Some seemingly great advancements have had very dire consequences.
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LAST YEAR I WROTE A COLUMN SUGGESTING WE CHANGE OUR WAYS. Instead of doing what we have always done because that’s the way we do things around here, I suggested we seek to understand why some things are that way—hindsight. This year I would like to suggest we think about foresight, and there is probably no better example to exemplify this than the story of Thomas Midgely, Jr.

Considering the impact Midgely has on all our lives, it is rather amazing his name is not more well-known. Midgely studied as an engineer but gained his fame, or rather notoriety, as a chemist. His first major advancement was working under Charles Kettering (see my May 2012 column for some of his story at www.stle.org) at Delco. 

Midgely was tasked with solving the mystery of engine knocking, a persistent pinging in early internal combustion engines. He discovered the knocking sound was the result of an increase in temperature and pressure inside the cylinders. Rather than apply his engineering skills to redesign the engine, he applied his chemistry skills to alter the formula for gasoline.

What Midgely created in 1921 became known as “no-knock” gasoline, or ethyl gasoline. The new formulation used bromide (extracted from seawater) and tetraethyl lead. Midgely could not foresee the deadly impact of this seemingly great advancement.

At least 11 refinery workers died in the early 1920s producing the lead compounds, and Midgely himself took an extended medical leave in 1924 due to lead poisoning. This was only a hint of what was to come. Although Midgely authored a paper in 1925 extolling the hazards of lead poisoning, his foresight could not predict that it would take nearly 60 years to fully phase out lead from gasoline.

In that time, an estimated seven million tons of lead was burned in gasoline in the U.S., leading to an estimated 68 million children exposed to toxic levels of lead (from 1927 to 1987, per a 1988 report to Congress by Dr. Paul Mushak) causing brain and blood disorders, antisocial behavior and lowered IQ. A 1985 EPA study estimated that lead-related heart disease was killing approximately 5,000 Americans every year.

In 1928 Midgely transferred to another subsidiary of General Motors, Frigidaire. There he was tasked with finding a safer and more affordable refrigerant than the ammonia, sulfur dioxides or chloromethanes currently being used. These refrigerants were both toxic and flammable, and their leaks killed the sleeping occupants of many homes. Midgely’s solution, arguably, was not much better.

Midgely developed carbon tetrafluoride and then in 1930, dichlorofluoromethane, which was later called Freon. While it was nonflammable and non-toxic (Midgely demonstrated this by inhaling a lungful and breathing it out to extinguish a candle flame), most of us are familiar with its harmful ramifications. Until the Montreal Protocol was put into force in 1989, the production of Freon and other CFCs contributed to the depletion of the Earth’s protective ozone layer, which has been linked to increased cases of non-melanoma skin cancer and cataracts.

Unfortunately Midgely had no foresight regarding this development. It wasn’t until the 1970s that we began to see its effects. Quite paradoxically, in 1939 when Packard became the first automobile company to offer factory-installed air conditioning, Midgely presented a paper predicting that the climate could be controlled by controlling the ozone layer.

Over the next few years Midgely contracted polio, which reduced the effectiveness of his legs. To overcome this disability, Midgely applied his engineering skills to create a system of pulley mechanisms in his house which allowed him to move from his bed to the bathroom or his office without assistance. Sadly Midgely lacked the foresight to see the danger in this creation, as well. On Nov. 2, 1944, Midgely slipped and became entangled in the ropes where he strangled to death.

So as you embark on the path of change, try your best to predict the outcome. Some seemingly great advancements have had very dire consequences.


Evan Zabawski, CLS, is a reliability specialist in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. You can reach him at evan.zabawski@gmail.com.