[Cardiff, Wales – 7:42 PM, 7th of January, 1924]
So now I had constructed a somewhat concrete plan for how I wanted to change the future outside of just vague assumptions; I realised I may have underestimated how much money I need. After all, if one thought about it, while a million pounds would be life-changing money to someone, on the scale of the global economy it wasn't even a drop in the ocean.
So most of my time recently has been spent patenting and licensing more inventions, with the vast majority of my labour spent on nylon and polyethylene. Thankfully, now that I had enough of a reputation, it wasn't hard to find companies trying to snap up licences.
Nylon, which would be discovered in 1935 and initially was used in high-tensile niches but quickly exploded in popularity due to the Great Depression, was a fascinating material that people in the 21st century had grown used to. It's capable of being drawn into fine, uniform fibres that are incredibly strong while remaining light, flexible, and resistant to wear.
Unlike natural substances such as silk or cotton, it is not dependent upon harvest or climate and can be produced in quantity from simple chemical feedstocks, granting an unprecedented degree of control over both supply and properties.
It resists moisture, decay, and many chemical agents and may be formed not only into threads for textiles but also into bristles, films, and solid shapes, giving it applications ranging from fabrics and cordage to mechanical components subject to repeated stress.
The work begins with the preparation of two reactive bodies: diamine and dicarboxylic acid, each purified with care. My early attempts made plain that the success of the process depends not merely upon their presence but upon their exact proportion. Even a slight excess of either component resulted in a material of poor strength, since the growth of the substance is arrested prematurely. Due to this, it meant I had to tweak the amount of each reacting group present repeatedly; it was like stumbling in the dark, knowing the feeling of the thing I was searching for but having no clue to the direction of my mystery. After all, as time went by, I was getting further and further from the parts of chemistry I was familiar with.
The two compounds are dissolved separately and then combined. Upon mixing, they unite at once to form a neutral crystalline substance…otherwise known as a salt…distinguished by its uniformity. This intermediate proves indispensable, for it ensures that the reactive groups are paired in equal measure before further transformation is attempted.
The salt, once isolated and thoroughly dried, is transferred to a vessel capable of withstanding elevated temperatures. It's a constant fight to exclude moisture, for water is observed to interfere with the subsequent reaction. As heat is applied, the substance first softens, then melts into a clear liquid.
At this stage, the molecules begin to gradually unite end-to-end, each junction between an amine and an acid group giving rise to a new linkage while releasing a small quantity of water. If this water is allowed to remain, the process slows and may even reverse. Accordingly, provision is made for its continuous removal.
As the reaction proceeds, the liquid grows increasingly viscous. What was once freely flowing becomes thick and resistant until it can scarcely be stirred. This change is taken as evidence of the formation of exceedingly long molecular chains, far longer than those encountered in ordinary substances.
If the heating is carried too far, the material darkens and degrades; if insufficient, it remains weak and fusible. Thus, the proper moment must be judged with care. Many banging of my head into the wall moments occurred here.
When withdrawn at the appropriate stage, the molten mass exhibits an unexpected property. A rod dipped into it may be drawn away, and the material follows, forming a continuous filament rather than breaking. This filament, though initially soft, becomes markedly stronger when stretched.
The act of drawing appears to impose order upon the substance. The long chains, previously entangled without arrangement, are compelled into alignment along the length of the fibre. With this alignment comes the strength, flexibility, and resistance to fracture I'm looking for.
By forcing the molten material through fine openings, threads of uniform thickness may be produced in quantity. These, when drawn, yield fibres possessing a lustre and tenacity comparable to silk, yet derived entirely from artificial means.
Yes, the fibres got everywhere. I used to think my niece's glitter obsession was bad but this…
I glared at the spool of thread; this was the first of many thread-like materials to come. From this, humanity would eventually discover so many others.
The transition from laboratory success to practical manufacture proves far from straightforward, unlike future fibres like carbon fibre or nanotubes. What may be accomplished in a flask or small vessel readily extends to operations conducted by the tonne for once.
Though difficulties arise at once in the preparation of the initial materials, for it is no longer sufficient that they be merely pure, they must be produced consistently, in large quantity, and at reasonable cost. Variations that were once tolerable now result in entire batches of product which can't be used together in cloth factories.
Particular attention is drawn to the formation of the intermediate salt. While easily obtained in small amounts, its crystallisation on a larger scale presents complications. It must be secured in a uniform state, free of excess acid or amine, and thoroughly dried. As I stated before, even slight retention of moisture is found to disturb the later stages of the process, but it took time to nail down how long was required in ovens to fully dry it without wasting time.
The heating of the salt introduces further challenges. In larger vessels, the distribution of temperature is uneven; portions of the mass may overheat and degrade while others remain insufficiently reacted.
Agitation, so easily achieved in small apparatus, becomes increasingly difficult as viscosity rises. So more time was spent devising custom machines to ensure that the material remains as uniform as possible throughout the process, but nowadays I've got whole teams of engineers and chemists working for me across Cardiff, so it only takes weeks instead of months.
As the reaction proceeds and the mass thickens, handling itself becomes a problem. The material resists flow and places great strain upon stirring mechanisms. Vessels must be constructed to withstand both high temperature and mechanical stress, and their design becomes as important as the chemistry they contain.
Once formed, the molten substance must be shaped without allowing it to degrade or solidify prematurely. The forcing of the material through fine openings requires both pressure and precision; any inconsistency leads to irregular threads or breakage. The subsequent drawing of the fibres must be carried out under controlled conditions, for uneven stretching results in weak or brittle filaments.
Environmental factors, too, assert their influence. Moisture in the air affects the behaviour of the material during both processing and storage, while temperature fluctuations alter its properties in subtle but significant ways. It becomes necessary to regulate not only the reaction itself but also the surrounding conditions in which it is conducted.
Finally, there is the matter of reproducibility. A process that succeeds once is of little value unless it may be repeated reliably. Each stage, preparation, reaction, shaping, and drawing, must be reduced to a series of controlled operations capable of yielding the same result day after day.
Despite the challenges of production, I knew it would quickly take off once initial products began being sold, though probably slower than historically due to the Great Depression not having occurred yet.
Polyethylene, which would more widely be known as 'polythene', would eventually be used in plastic bags, cling film, drink and detergent bottles, food containers, bubble wrap, cable insulation, piping, and bottle caps; it really had endless uses.
It is easy…perhaps inevitable…for a material so commonplace to lose its sense of wonder. By the modern day, plastics have come to be regarded as cheap or even troublesome, their abundance taken as a fault rather than an achievement. Yet such judgements overlook the quiet magnitude of what was accomplished when it was originally discovered in 1933.
Here is a material drawn from one of the simplest of gases, rendered into a solid that resists water, endures chemical attack, and may be shaped almost without limit. It asks little of its surroundings, does not rot, does not rust, and may be made wherever the necessary conditions can be established.
In this, it answers problems that once seemed inseparable from the natural world's constraints of scarcity, decay and fragility. Whatever its future reputation, it is difficult to deny that such a substance represents a remarkable triumph of our species.
Though I would have to put some time into researching some of the recycling methods I can remember and also probably work on filtration systems to stem the microplastic problem.
To produce this peculiar substance, one must begin with a light gaseous compound known as ethylene. It is a simple body, as it is composed only of carbon and hydrogen and is already familiar as a product of petroleum fractions.
In practice, it may be obtained by passing the vapour of alcohol over a heated solid such as alumina, which removes water from the spirit and leaves behind this gas.
Ethylene, however, is not a cooperative material. Under ordinary conditions it shows little inclination to unite with itself. Its molecules remain separate, drifting freely, and resist the formation of anything larger. Yet I know that if brought under sufficiently extreme conditions, these small units might be compelled to join into long chains.
Accordingly, the gas must first be prepared with great care and purified as thoroughly as possible, for even slight contamination appears to interfere with the process. It is then introduced into a strongly built, sealed vessel. At this stage, a minute quantity of oxygen is sometimes admitted, though this is done with caution, for its influence is uncertain and often destructive.
The vessel is then subjected to very high pressure and elevated temperature, forcing the gas into close confinement. Under these unnatural conditions, the ethylene molecules are driven together far more closely than they would ever approach under normal circumstances.
For some time, no visible change occurs. The contents remain clear, and the gas appears unaltered. Only after prolonged heating do the first signs of transformation appear. A faint cloudiness forms along the inner surface of the vessel, followed by the appearance of small droplets resembling wax.
When the apparatus is finally opened, we find within not only gas vapours but also a small quantity of a pale, translucent solid. When warm, it is soft and slightly pliable; upon cooling, it becomes firmer.
I distinctly remember spending several minutes marvelling at not only the genius of the person who invented the stuff but also myself for remembering the process from university well enough. Not that this didn't require copious amounts of trial and error.
Its properties are striking. It is unaffected by water, shows little tendency to react with common reagents, and softens when heated without burning or charring at moderate temperatures.
The difficulties of scaling it up, however, are considerable. The yield is extremely small, and the conditions required, particularly the high pressures, render the process both dangerous and difficult to control. The presence of oxygen further complicates matters: at times it appears to assist in initiating the change, while at others it merely causes decomposition or no reaction at all. Consistent results are hard to obtain.
I chuckled to myself since scaling up plastic production was going to take years of effort but would probably be worth it.