§1. Treating students like adults [00:00]
To clean the room by the time they're a teenager — they're not going to start doing it in college. This is something your parents were supposed to do before you turned five, okay. Let's teach you how to behave. I think we should treat students like adults and they will behave like adults. It's great expectations: if you expect students to respond, I find they do respond.
I had a father who was a perfectionist and he expected perfection from his children, and he figured if you were five years old you were an adult and you should be able to take care of yourself. The joke around the family is that when I was five years old I used to fix Sunday morning breakfast for my family. I've always gotten up early, and at five years old I'd fix a full breakfast — hot cereal and bacon and eggs, and we were in the south, so maybe grits. I had to pull a chair up to the stove to reach the burners. My father treated me like an adult, and that's how I think we all should treat students.
I see more and more — we have the Dean for Student Affairs office. When I was a student, just about fifty years ago, it had like four people in it. Professor Cad Wadley of mechanical engineering was the Dean for Student Affairs. Last time I looked, about twenty-five years ago, we had thirty-seven people in there. And it's not Dean for Student Affairs anymore, it's Dean of Student Affairs — this was a major change they made, because they didn't want the students having affairs. There are people who get paid to think of these things.
So I have a negative attitude about evaluating students and treating students like they're kids. In orientation week for freshmen — when I was a freshman, they basically put us in Kresge Auditorium and scared us to death. Then in the 1980s they hired people to run games out on the fields, supposed to be a team-building exercise for the freshman class. They'd play tug of war, which I think was fine. But they had these other little games with balloons and things, where I felt we were coming right out of kindergarten and treating them like kindergartners.
People — faculty — have criticized me for this course for not doing enough to make sure the students do the work. I've told you at least once now: I don't care if you do the work. If you want to pay this kind of tuition and not get anything out of it, go ahead. Not my problem. I have a tremendous faith in MIT students. You wouldn't have gotten here if you weren't overachievers. So enough of that.
§2. Magnets and amorphous metal foil [03:29]
So I talked about magnetic materials. We talked about hard magnetic materials briefly, and the tremendous increase in strength of different types of magnets. [Tom passes magnet samples around.] I passed the others around, but now we have some ceramic magnets, and we also have neodymium iron boron magnets, and you can feel the difference in the strength as they stack up. It's slightly easier to pull the ceramic magnets apart than the iron boron magnets.
[Tom holds up a foil sample.] This is a piece of soft magnetic material. It's an amorphous metal foil, getting kind of old and rusty. This was made down in South Carolina, and they can make it about six inches wide, maybe up to a foot wide now. It's rapidly solidified. They squirt the metal out on a high-speed copper wheel, and if you squirt it properly you'll make a foil as thick as they can make it. It solidifies at about a million degrees Kelvin per second. And it is the world's softest magnetic material. You can't really tell by handling it, but it has lower magnetic losses than any other material.
The company that invented this used to be called Allied Signal, and now it's part of Honeywell. They built a fifty million dollar plant. The plant was commissioned by a graduate of this department — happened to be my house tutor when I was a freshman. He was a materials scientist. It turns out Honeywell didn't get the patent on the most important property of this material. They were studying rapidly solidified metals back in the 1970s, and they sent some to a guy named Professor Chad Graham at the University of Pennsylvania, because he was studying magnetic materials, and asked him to measure the magnetic permeability. They were just trying to dot the i's and cross the t's. He measured it, showed it was five times softer — five times lower magnetic loss — than anything else ever discovered. And since they didn't have a nondisclosure agreement with him, the University of Pennsylvania owned the patent rights to that material. So they had to buy him back, and it was a big fight.
§3. Blisks, single-crystal blades, and turbine economics [06:17]
I should have looked at the blisk on the web. The web's getting better and better — I did this morning. Here's a nice graphic of a turbine disk that is not a blisk. Here's your root, where the vane has to attach to the big heavy flange. With a blisk you can make the whole thing integral, which they do for the M250 engines of Rolls-Royce. The integral version is a lot lighter than this great big mass right here. So you'd like to do that because there's collateral weight savings.
[Tom hands a single-crystal blade sample around.] I also pass around single-crystal blades — I usually find some excuse to pass this around several times. This is from an old Pratt & Whitney engine from the 1980s. It's from the hot section — single-crystal blade. It has cooling ports, that's why I pass it around. It's been filleted; they took a wire EDM and sliced it. It was a single crystal, but it has an internal structure. They cast it for turbulent flow, so you're getting cooling of the hot gases coming through. Hot gases at three thousand degrees Fahrenheit, with a melting temperature of the blade material at twenty-four hundred degrees Fahrenheit.
The holes are drilled at certain angles because they want the gas coming out to create a boundary-layer cooling effect on the blades. This is a thirty-, forty-year-old blade design; blades today are even fancier. They'd like to make them thinner and thinner — they're down to about seven to ten thousandths wall. The problem is the ceramic core inside that you grow the single crystal around, very slowly. If it shifts by one or two thousandths of an inch, you've got junk, because you can't afford two thousandths out of seven. So you really can't get them any thinner than they're already making them. They've gone about as far as they can with cooling. So that's blisk technology.
Does anyone know why they want to keep going to higher and higher temperatures? Have any idea what the economics are of a fifty-degree-centigrade increase in operating temperature of the gas in the engine? It means about two billion dollars a year fuel savings for the airlines around the world. So there's a lot of money to be made by getting higher temperatures. Maybe fifty degrees doesn't seem like much, but people would kill for it.
§4. Collateral weight savings: aluminum cars and aircraft landing gear [09:40]
So we talked about collateral weight savings on the structure through use of lightweight materials. I talked about the blisk and how you could save twenty pounds on a disc — could be two hundred pounds on the engine, because you've got ten discs. And the engines are out there hanging off the wings, and the wings can be lighter. That's a general principle.
I can remember going to Chrysler twenty-five years ago. They were working on a new smaller vehicle and they were going to make an all-aluminum version. They had a 1.6 liter engine. When they went to the lightweight aluminum, they didn't really get as good a bang for the buck on fuel savings, because they were still using the 1.6 liter engine. If they'd actually had a 1.2 liter engine for this small car, they could have gotten even more fuel savings. But you can't just go out and design a whole new engine just because you switched materials. They were using aluminum for the sheet metal of the body, saving weight — they could have saved a lot more weight on the engine too. To get the full advantage of the material, you really have to design the whole thing from scratch.
Another example — we've got some Boeing people here. What's the first part of a major aircraft you design if you're starting your design? You design the landing gear first, because the landing gear has to take the weight of the structure when it lands, and the whole rest of the structure has to be built around that to transfer those loads. So if you talk to a designer at Boeing, they project: okay, we're going to build a replacement for the 747, it's going to weigh half a million pounds, so we've got to have a landing gear that supports half a million pounds. And we're going to have to design structures like the keel beam. Everybody knows there's a keel beam in an aircraft — just a great big I-beam goes front to back. It's called a keel beam because it's like a ship; ships in the water have a keel beam. The aircraft has a keel beam and you build everything off that, and that keel beam has to support the loads from the landing gear when it lands.
So a complex structure is an interaction between the materials and the design, and you can't just go substituting one for another.
§5. The refrigerator parable [12:23]
I pointed you to an article I wrote for Technology Review in 1995 — twenty years ago now — on bringing new materials to market. In there I talked about something I had learned through buying refrigerators. When I was your age, the outside panel of a refrigerator was steel and the inside panel was steel, and the shelves on the inside of the door were screwed into the sheet metal of the steel, and they worked just fine.
Then in the mid-eighties I bought a new refrigerator. The outside was steel and the inside was a panel of plastic. Plastic is a much better material for the inside of a refrigerator because you're going to spill foods on it — it has a low internal surface energy, much lower than metals, and things don't stick to it as easily. But within five years I had to replace the refrigerator, because they used screws to attach the shelves to the plastic, and plastic is a lousy material for threaded joints. You just shouldn't use threaded joints in plastics — maybe in a Hasbro or Fisher-Price toy. And your child is going to come to you and say, daddy, my toy broke, can you glue it together. And you say, of course not, I took Professor Eagar's course on adhesives and we know that plastics have low surface energy and there's no good glue to fix your cheap little toy, child. Well, maybe you won't say it exactly that way to them, but that's in fact the case. Most of these things you just throw away. I had to throw away the refrigerator because the shelves were broken.
By 1990, I bought a KitchenAid, which I think I still have — I know who has it, still in use. They designed it so that the shelves slid into a slot like a drawer. That's exactly the way you should join a shelf to a plastic wall. You designed the wall so something slips in, and you don't have these sharp stress concentrations of threaded joints. The point was, you can't just substitute one material for another. Plastic is a better internal material for a refrigerator, but you can't just design it the same way you designed your steel one. I was sort of irritated because I had to buy the refrigerator after five years, but by the time I'd done that, people had learned, and those refrigerators are lasting longer than I want them to.
The outside is still steel for most refrigerators. Why? Because your children are going to run their tricycle into it, they're going to dent it, and steel is stiffer — it will take the tricycles much better than plastics, which would likely crack. So you have to optimize your structural design with your material, and when you get a better material you can't just willy-nilly substitute. Competition among materials — we talked about food packaging: glass, composite, plastic, paper, metal — as one of them gets better, the people refine the design of the other, and there's still a healthy competition. Any questions on that?
§6. Schedule and presentation logistics [16:53]
The schedule, by the way — I checked with Dr. Belmar. If I do twelve lectures and he does eight, we will finish lectures on March first, give you a week break, and then schedule the presentations. How many people have a presentation already in the can or close to it? I don't want to put too much pressure on you to get something done, but is that going to be a problem? You've got three weeks; not everyone's going to go that first week. I'm still trying to see if I can get this room for multiple hours — nine to eleven instead of nine to ten — that way I could do six a day. Since there are forty-eight students, that would still be a couple of weeks of presentations. I'm going to ask you to keep track of the twenty presentations you attended, including your own — so you'll have nineteen others on top of that. If you have any questions, talk to me.
Student: [asks question about natural fiber reinforced concrete topic]
So natural fiber reinforced concrete. Lots of good issues there. Natural fibers tend to decompose — organic fibers rot. But we've been using them to make bricks since the days of Moses and before. Can't make bricks without straw. But what are the issues if we want to use it for concrete? And there's the issue of Roman concrete and why Roman concrete is better than any other concrete. There are articles on that.
I don't want you to come in and talk about all the different variations of concrete. It's a 2.2 billion ton a year industry. There's a lot of technology there and you can't cover it in ten slides. But if you wanted to talk about Roman concrete — if you're interested in Roman architecture — Roman concrete has lasted for two thousand years, and there are good scientific articles on why it's so much better than the concrete we make today. Something more specific where you can be critical and learn something about the details of the material — leave it to me to talk about the generalities.
§7. Conveying water: from ditches to titanium [19:44]
So I was going to use part of today as a little recitation on competition among materials. Take something fairly simple and fairly basic that we've been doing for thousands of years: how do you convey water? What was the first material that was probably used to convey water?
Student: [suggests an answer]
Okay, that's probably earlier than I was thinking of. I was thinking of dirt. You have a stream, and a little hill coming down from the side of the stream, and you dig a ditch and let the water run down. You tend to lose a lot through the soil, but if you've got a whole stream, who cares. What might have been the next thing, because you're eroding away your ditch? What would you do to line your ditch? Rocks, somebody says. Leaves? Leaves tend to be somewhat temporary because they only last a season or two, but that would work. In fact, people have made wooden pipes or wooden troughs.
Then they used stone, but then they invented mortar. Mortar in general — you take limestone, which is found everywhere in the world because it's formed from the little sea animals that took the calcium in the water and turned it into calcium carbonate, which precipitates out. You make limestone or dolomite, which is calcium carbonate and magnesium carbonate mixture. Most of the calcium and magnesium is in the ocean anyway, and oceans have covered most of the world over the last six billion years. So you can find limestone virtually anywhere — except in a place like Hawaii, which was built up out of the ocean floor with volcanic ash. So if they use cement in Hawaii, they have to import it from somewhere that has limestone.
Concrete aqueducts. The Romans used concrete. Then they started using a metal that has excellent corrosion resistance — and it's been in the paper recently. It's in the paper yesterday in the Boston Globe. You don't read the Globe? Depending on your political persuasion — I don't particularly like the Globe's political persuasion. It's called lead. Lead has excellent atmospheric corrosion resistance, it's easy to form into a pipe, it's relatively abundant, and it wasn't too expensive. So in the 1920s to the 1930s, when they were doing plumbing in houses, they had lead pipe.
When I bought my house, which was finished in 1938 — built during the Depression, took them about five or six years — there was a piece of lead pipe over the laundry sink and I took it out. Most of the lead pipe has been replaced; it's typically copper pipe now. But apparently in Medford, Massachusetts, forty-seven percent of the homes have lead pipe for their service water. It won't corrode for hundreds of years. But now we won't even let people use lead-tin solder on the copper pipes, because of the EPA. Every town will send you with your water bill an annual statement of how much lead and how much arsenic is in your water. As we get more and more precise in our ability to measure the amount of lead, the EPA requirements become lower and lower, because parents think their children are stupid because they're drinking the local water. And I say that's not the reason — it's genetic. It has nothing to do with the amount of lead in the water.
But in some places, such as Trail, British Columbia, or Flint, Michigan, some of the children do have developmental cognitive problems because of drinking too much lead. Trail, British Columbia, has been a zinc smelting community for over a hundred years, and there's lots of lead oxide in the air. Children in Trail have been growing up breathing lead, and studies show they've had developmental disabilities because of it.
Anybody know — we have a whole building covered with lead here at MIT. Lead sheet. It's called Kresge Auditorium. Kresge has a surface of lead for corrosion resistance. Copper's too pricey; they used lead. Kresge is one of the architectural marvels of MIT, along with Building 13 and the Stratton Student Center. Kresge has a roof with a thickness that is thinner than an eggshell in terms of the radius of curvature. It's an incredible structure from an architectural-mechanical standpoint, because the roof is so thin for its curvature. And they put lead sheeting on it for corrosion resistance, and it will last for a very long time.
What's unique about the Stratton Student Center — it's floating. All of this was filled land. There's a stone down in Boston that says sixteen miles to Harvard. Everybody knows it's not sixteen miles to Harvard. It was, when they put the stone there, because you had to go around the Back Bay. And Beacon Street — you might know why it's called Beacon Street. Right on the other side is Boston Common, where everyone had a right to graze their cow, and you still do. You can bring your cow onto the Boston Common and graze it, and the police can't stop you. It's in the law. That's where you got your milk; they didn't have refrigerators back in those days.
Beacon Street was a causeway across the Back Bay. Boston was a bay, and they didn't start filling it in until the 1850s. Before that, Beacon Street was a one-lane causeway, and you had to carry a beacon on your cow when you went home at night or came over in the morning, so you wouldn't push somebody else off into the bay. That's why it's called Beacon Street. MIT is built on filled land too. There was just a little island here. MIT wanted to move from Boston — they were on the filled land over in the Back Bay — and they purchased a lot of the filled land that was over here.
But there was one little island that had been owned by an alumnus of MIT — one of the first alumni — and around 1900 he had passed away, and his widow would not sell the land to MIT. They had all the other land they needed, but right in the center was this little island. Finally one day she saw a beaver on that island, and she decided that was a sign she should sell it to MIT so they could move over here to Cambridge. She sold it, but on the condition that the main entrance on Mass Ave be 77 Mass Ave, because her husband graduated in the class of 1877. So now you know. When you have dinner tonight with one of your classmates, you can ask, why is it 77 Mass Ave? I'll bet you they don't know. I don't remember the guy's name — neither does the beaver.
In any case, we had lots of ways to convey water. Lead pipe before World War Two. In some parts of the Midwest today, we use galvanized steel pipe, and you can do that in certain parts of the country, particularly where the water is hard — has a lot of calcium in it — because the galvanized zinc-coated steel has reasonably good corrosion resistance. In acidic waters like we have on the East Coast, galvanized pipe will last a couple of years before it starts rusting, so we don't use it. In the second half of the twentieth century, after World War Two, we started using copper pipe, and we used copper pipe for many years.
And now, what do we use? Cross-linked polyethylene — PEX. This is PEX-A, cross-linked with an electron beam. There's also PEX-B, which is chemically cross-linked. It's a plastic pipe that's pretty stiff. [Tom holds up a piece of PVC for comparison.] This is a piece of PVC pipe, which is not nearly as stiff — not the same diameter, but you can feel the difference. PEX tubing is very quick to install — takes about half the labor of copper pipe.
But even more importantly — ten years ago this was no problem, but in the offices over here that were redone for the student lounge and Course Three, and my office got moved for that, they basically used a mechanical crimp-on connector, copper to copper with a rubber gasket. Each of those fittings costs like thirty or forty bucks. You can't get them at most hardware stores; you've got to go to plumbing supply houses. They're not cheap.
Does anyone know why we've gone from soldering pipe to using this crimp-on mechanical connector? Because too many plumbers burned down too many houses soldering pipes. The law now says, in the last ten years in Boston, you must have a fire watch. This is one of the externalities of material selection. They got rid of lead-tin solder in 1978 by legislation. So they went to 95-5 — ninety-five percent tin, five percent antimony, or some have a couple percent silver for strength.
And the plumbers hated it. When the plumbers would solder up something like a furnace in the basement with lead-tin, they'd check it and might have one leak out of a hundred joints. With 95-5 they'd have ten leaks, and they'd have to go back and repair them. And if you repair ten, you're going to have another leak out of one of the ones that leaked, so you've got to fill the system again. It takes forever to get rid of all the leaks. You can do it, obviously. But the real reason they use these compression fittings is because you have to have a fire watch. You've got to pay a Boston policeman like sixty bucks an hour to stand there and watch you not burn down the house in the city of Boston. And in the city of Boston it must be a Boston firefighter off duty. He's making better money than he makes as a fireman, watching you screw up the plumbing job and not burn down the house.
We switched to PEX-A and B. We use cast iron, but cast iron pipe that we put in the old days for water has been switched to concrete-lined, because the concrete has a better lifetime than the cast iron. After about a hundred years, cast iron will start to decarbonize — they call it graphitize — and lose its strength. It turns out about five percent of all the water going through the streets of Boston is lost through leaks. There are leaks all over, and they've got old concrete pipe, and every now and then a concrete water main will burst and do ten million dollars worth of damage downtown and tie up traffic. We've got aging infrastructure.
What would be the best material if cost were no object? Probably gold. Very corrosion resistant in water. But that's not what we use on critical applications. What the Navy is starting to use on nuclear submarines, where cost is no object — they used to use carbon steel pipe, which would corrode away after about twenty-five years. The ship had a thirty-year life. I remember one officer — an ensign, when she graduated from the Academy, her job on the ship was to fix the leaks on the thirty-year-old ship full of leaks. They put in carbon steel, but now they have to build fifty-year ships, and they use titanium. Very expensive, very lightweight. You can use almost no thickness of titanium and have excellent corrosion resistance forever.
§8. The Boeing 747-400 titanium ozone duct [35:18]
Boeing's aircraft — I remember when the 747-400 came out, twenty-five or thirty years ago. I'd been over in the Far East for a couple of weeks, and when I came back I got an emergency call from Englehard Metals. They were making the platinum catalyst for the 747. Do you know why you have a catalyst in a 747 for the air you breathe? Up there there's lots of ozone, and if you breathed that much ozone for a trip all the way across the Pacific, you would have a very bad headache. Ozone gives you a headache. So all the air coming into the cabin has to go through one of two catalysts, just like the catalyst on your car that gets rid of carbon monoxide. This gets rid of the ozone and converts it back to oxygen so you don't get a headache on your flight. Plus ozone is not good for your heart and other things, supposedly, medically.
The 747-400 was an extended-range — each one of these series of aircraft tries to go further — and they were lightweighting it. They had made stainless steel ducting pipe to carry the oxygen through the cabin, and they were switching to titanium just to get rid of the weight. Pretty expensive, but on aircraft with extended range, probably valued at more than two hundred dollars a pound to switch from stainless steel to titanium.
Boeing had a ridiculous spec. Boeing has a lot of general specs — most big companies do. The general spec said you had to make two welds. If you think of an anaconda that's just eaten — this is your catalytic converter in here — you've got to make a weld here, three hundred and sixty degrees around, and a weld over there, to put the catalyst in. That's what Englehard was doing. The general spec for welding of titanium said it had to be x-ray inspected and could not have a flaw larger than ten thousandths of an inch in diameter — about four human hairs in size.
You were not going to get Boeing to change the spec, because Boeing has, what, 200,000 employees. Who's the person at Boeing who could change that spec? There is no such person. It would be a committee and it would take three years. So Englehard was having to weld these titanium ducts, and they hadn't done a lot of titanium welding before. They were getting a failure on twenty-five percent — half — of their welds on the x-ray; they'd find some little pore larger than ten thousandths of an inch. They had to cut it out and reweld it, and they only got one chance to reweld it. You couldn't do two rewelds. So the odds were you'd have one failure, and when you cut it out and tried again, the odds were you'd have another failure. They hadn't been able to produce any of these units for Boeing, and it was going to hold up the whole rollout of the aircraft. People were getting very upset and concerned.
So I said, well how are you cleaning your titanium? Titanium is very sensitive to any source of hydrocarbon, like your fingerprints. When you're welding titanium, you should wear white gloves, just like a clean room. They'd been welding stainless steel — it's just like a welding shop, the guy's hands are all greasy, his gloves are all greasy, everything's greasy. I said, get some reagent-grade acetone and degrease everything — I didn't have time to go down to New Jersey — and then weld it, and you won't get the porosity, because the porosity comes from small amounts of hydrogen in titanium.
I got a call again a week later: we tried what you said and we still can't get it, can you come down? Well, I'm in New Jersey two days later for something else. I said, okay, when I finish I'll come by, may not be till six o'clock that evening, somebody wait for me. So I went by and walked through their shop and looked at everything. I said, did you get some reagent-grade acetone? No. I explained how to clean the titanium — I said, you've got to get reagent-grade acetone, because regular acetone has oils in it, and when the acetone evaporates it leaves oil. You thought you cleaned it but it left oil. So they did what I said. They called up a week later and said, we're passing a hundred percent now. Great. So I sent in my little bill.
Then they called me up two weeks later and said, we're failing twenty-five percent again. I said, have you changed your cleaning? No, we're doing the same thing. I said, go get some more reagent-grade acetone and do a better job of cleaning, and make sure everybody wears white gloves. I eventually got them out of the problem. The exact same thing happened up here at GE Lynn with electron beam welds in titanium. If you take my welding course, I'll tell that story in there. So we even use titanium in some cases to convey air. But in ships now, we're using titanium to convey water. Gold would be the best, but it's a little pricey.
§9. Conveying gas: wood pipes, cast iron, and PEX [41:37]
I might as well kill the whole day on alternatives. Conveying gas. We talked about conveying water — what about gas? We didn't originally have gas, because it's too difficult to transport. You get swamp gas coming out of swamps — sometimes you can see flames coming up out of the ground. The first gas they had, they used to make coal gas. You take hot coals, you drip water on the hot coals, and the water reacts with the hot carbon. Carbon plus H2O gives you carbon monoxide plus hydrogen plus some CO2. When I was an undergraduate in my thermo class, we had to calculate the coal gas reaction all the time, because it was a nice algebra example. Waste of time, but nice algebra. It's called the water gas, or coal gas, reaction. So you take water and hot carbon and you make carbon monoxide and hydrogen gas.
People wanted that, particularly as they got bigger cities in the 1800s, because they could use it for streetlights. Except you had to pipe the gas from the coal gas generator to the lights down the street. And the first material they used for the pipes was — anybody know? It was wood. They would take logs and gun-drill them out. What's a gun drill? Ordinarily, if you had a lathe, you'd have the drill stationary and the piece spinning. In a gun drill you spin the drill opposite to the direction you're spinning the wood or the metal. They call it a gun drill because that way you can get very straight holes. If you try to drill a long hole with a metal drill in a piece of metal like a gun barrel, it will always walk to one side, and you won't get a hole more than twelve inches deep. But if both are counter-rotating — this is an important trick — can you counter-rotate? Most people will rotate in the same direction. I spent my senior year of high school doing this in class, because I was bored, and I can do figure eights in opposite directions, but it took me a year of practice. With a gun drill, you can drill long holes.
They would gun-drill logs and bury them in the ground, mud them up with mud or oakum or something — which is just grease — and they would run the gas through there. I wish I'd taken a picture of the wooden one, but in Boston, when they're digging in the city, they will sometimes uncover these old wooden pipes that they used to convey the gas. Then they got to cast iron because it lasted longer than wood, didn't rot in the wet soil, and cast iron can last for a hundred years. Then they went to steel. We still use steel — black iron pipe, we call it — because it's got a magnetite Fe3O4 coating on the surface that's just as good as paint. Go down to the basement of MIT, look at the fire sprinkler system: it's all black iron pipe.
In the 1980s, the gas researchers spent a lot of money developing plastic pipe. Gas pipe is supposed to be yellow, so that when people are working on things they know not to cut through the yellow pipe — it could be an explosion. [Tom holds up samples.] This is a piece of polyethylene distribution pipe, welded together, with a yellow stripe to identify it as gas pipe. About the same time in Japan, they developed something called corrugated stainless steel tubing — they put a plastic coating on it, and it's corrugated. Ten thousandths of an inch thick stainless steel. This is great. Well, sort of great. You can plumb a house with this stuff in one day. If you're building a new home, you can put all the gas piping in with this where it would take you three days with black iron pipe — which you have to thread and screw together. The labor savings are dramatic.
You buy this in 150-foot coils, and very easily with a tubing cutter you put a special thirty-dollar brass fitting on it to make the connections. Everything's wonderful — save a lot of money. Until you have a lightning storm. In a lightning storm, you'll have an arc, and the arc can perforate the polyethylene coating, which is good for 30,000 volts — not a problem for household current, because it's insulated. If a copper wire came in contact, it would have to defeat the insulation on the copper wire and the insulation on this. The probability is very low. But in this case — I'll pass this around tomorrow — you can have a little holiday, a little tiny hole in the yellow coating. You won't conduct electricity from household current, but 30,000 volts is nothing compared to the millions of volts of a lightning bolt. To the lightning, the yellow tubing is not there. If the lightning strikes your structure, you'll blast a hole on the inside ten times the diameter of the little hole here. This one was probably done with 110 volts through a wire, but you get the idea. It burns down about a hundred homes a year.
The companies deny it. Actually they deny it and they admit it. The guy who first got all this stuff qualified — the father of corrugated stainless steel — he admits there are about a hundred homes a year where fires are starting from the lightning. But they still fight it, because for them it's probably half a billion dollars a year of profit. They sell it for five bucks a foot, whereas black iron pipe you can buy for less than a dollar a foot, and it saves you sixty percent of labor. In that sense it's a wonderful product. Until the rains come and the lightning storm, and your house burns down. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow.