§1. Productivity vs. competitiveness [00:00]
It's Thursday. Tuesdays and Thursdays only a few of you make it to class, but that's okay, I'm glad to have you. Brian talked about glasses yesterday — any questions on that? My last slide two days ago brought up this question: what's the difference between productivity and competitiveness?
Basically, productivity is how efficiently you can make something. Competitiveness is what you can sell it for. Productivity is how efficient your process is, your people, everything that goes into the manufacturing operation. Competitiveness is all these other nebulous things, like the exchange rate between currencies, which has nothing to do with manufacturing — that's determined on some geopolitical level.
I was on the review committee for the National Institute of Standards and Technology in their manufacturing area. The first guy in the morning gets up and says NIST is the Department of Commerce's competitiveness laboratory. At the end I ask, don't you mean you're their productivity laboratory? Oh no, we're the competitiveness laboratory. I said, so you're dealing with exchange rates? Well, no. Competitiveness is — do you have slave labor? There are lots of places in the world where we still have slave labor, whether we call them slaves or whether they're just treated like slaves. That's all part of competitiveness. Productivity has to do with how efficient your manufacturing facility is.
And of course this is a story about how management always thinks that they're the key to productivity. If we have time, I'll tell you a story I heard from a vice president of Pratt & Whitney about manufacturing management during World War Two.
§2. Steel mini mills — the disruptive insight [02:11]
Today I wanted to talk about steel mini mills as a case study of how you can tremendously increase productivity. People were making wrought iron and cast iron 400 years ago at a person-year per ton. That's dropped to twenty minutes per ton as a person-labor input to making steel today. Some of that was continuous casting and Henry Bessemer melting steel and BOFs and things like that. But another part has been the steel mini mills.
The steel mini mills came about in the mid-1970s. A couple of people — they were actually Canadians, although the guy who founded Nucor, Ken Iverson, was not a Canadian, he was just a businessman — learned that scrap could be had, and had been hovering for thirty years around $100 a ton for steel scrap. It might get down to $90 or up to $120, but it's hovering around $100 a ton. The blast furnace hot metal cast iron cost was $180 a ton. They're fungible raw materials — do you use steel scrap that comes back from recycling, or do you take virgin ore and put it through the blast furnace and make cast iron? You can put either one into the steel refining furnaces if you have the right type of furnace. But scrap was half the cost. Half the cost on something that's twenty-five percent of your overall cost in a half-trillion-dollar industry could be a lot of money.
These people realized that, and they realized the only thing that could take 100% scrap was the electric arc furnace. These have been around since the 1880s, ever since Westinghouse and Edison gave us easy available commercial electricity. A couple of these people had worked for big steel companies and knew the culture: do things the way we'd done it eighty years ago, just waste money.
They looked at electric arc furnaces where, instead of 300 tons of steel at a time, you could melt forty or fifty tons at a time, and when they started it might take about two hours to melt. But you'd end up with steel, and if you used the right type of scrap, that's all you had to do — you didn't have to do all this other refining. There were some disadvantages, but they started out saying we're just going to make rebar, the cheapest grade of steel, just a steel bar, doesn't have to have particular impact or toughness properties. It's basically a very simple type of steel material.
And the big companies laughed at them. They said, you guys can't produce more than a couple hundred thousand tons of steel a year in your plant, and you're selling the lowest-quality stuff. Well, this is the whole story of The Innovator's Dilemma — Clayton Christensen's book at Harvard Business School — about your competition taking a big company and nipping at the bottom of the product line. The big companies are trying to come up with new, fancy, higher-value-added product, and these guys are going after the lowest-quality stuff.
But they could do it with a twentyfold reduction in capital. An integrated steel mill today would cost you twenty billion dollars. You can build a mini mill — and if you remember the picture of the Burns Harbor, Indiana plant of Bethlehem Steel that stretched for miles — this mini mill stretches for yards. That's a twentyfold reduction in capital. Over here is the electric furnace melt shop, whereas this wouldn't be twenty-five percent of the melt shop in a big integrated steel mill. The rolling mills — they're only making one kind of product. They're not trying to make a hundred different products. They're going to focus on one product to begin with, and they don't care, they're just going to take a small piece of the business. The big guys laughed at them and thought those guys would never go anywhere. That was the mid-70s — I was working for an integrated steel producer, and I remember all the jokes that people were making about the mini mills. Well, today about half the steel in the United States is made by mini mills, and it's not just the low-end stuff. They just kept on getting better and better.
§3. Chaparral Steel — net-shape casting and four-strand rolling [07:48]
I want to take an example of Chaparral Steel. The original plant was in Midlothian, Texas, started by a Canadian who's a graduate of this department. They started in the mid-70s, but I'm going to tell you some stories about the 1990s. They started out with the rebar business. In 1990 they were down to one person-hour a ton, which was about half the integrated people at that time. They developed net-shape casting of structural beams. After ten or fifteen years they decided to get out of just cheap rebar — they wanted to upgrade. So they went to steel beams, and they developed net-shape casting.
Here are pictures of their first continuous cast. They could get a small continuous caster, not a billion-dollar one. Instead of a rectangular continuous-cast bar, they made the mold so it had an hourglass shape, and that was the beginning of an I-beam. You could heat that up and turn it into an I-beam. These are actually Gordon For [Forward]'s photos — he's the guy who was chairman of this corporation. Here's a bunch of them laying there, the hot bars cooled off down here. That was around 1990 or a little bit later.
They kept on improving the mold design. This is the continuous-cast beam coming out of Chaparral Steel — this is where they're flame cutting off their continuous caster. They've taken that little hourglass shape into something that now looks almost like an I-beam when it's coming out of the caster. Net-shape casting drove the cost down by one-third. Where people were building parking garages out of reinforced concrete, now using steel-frame buildings for parking garages became the cheaper alternative. I used to go around the country and look at parking garages and say, oh, that one was built about 1980 because it's steel; that one's built in 1970 because it was concrete. That was just the change in economics of this type of technology.
Another thing they did is four-strand rebar rolling. One of the interesting things at Chaparral is that they're not an employee-owned company, but they have profit sharing. And one of the requirements is that production people are required to spend one week a year going out with the salespeople and meeting the customers. What a novel idea in 1975 or 1980 — to actually have your operations people meet the customers.
I remember a guy I met who had worked for Armco Steel in Houston all his life. I asked him, have you ever done any benchmarking about other steel companies? He says no. The only other steel plant in his entire thirty-year career that he had ever been through was the CF&I plant in Pueblo, Colorado, and he was on vacation, he passed the steel plant and he had some time, so he stopped at the gate and said, hey, I work at Armco Steel in Houston, can I see your plant? So he got a tour of someone else's steel plant. That was the management intelligence of the integrated steel producers around 1980 or 1985. You wouldn't dare tell anybody about what you're doing, because your technology is the best in the world. Your technology is crap. There are other people who have good ideas too. But no, they could never believe something like that.
Gordon Forward thought it would be good for his operating people to go out and see what other people were doing — not just how to operate a steel mill but to see what the other parts of the business are. In the old days, the integrated steel mills used to do some of this. When I was hired at Bethlehem Steel, I was what's called a looper. Professor Grant, who was a professor here at MIT, he'd be a hundred years old if he was still alive, had been a looper in 1935. A looper at Bethlehem Steel meant you were a college-degree employee. They would take you for the first year, and you'd spend six weeks in this part of the business, and six weeks over in that part. As an engineer, I might have gone to the finance department for six weeks to learn how they did it. Some finance person might have gone down to the forge shop and worked there with hot slag. You'd spend a whole year as a looper, looping through the business.
When I got to do it in 1975, it involved one week in the Martin Tower auditorium having vice presidents give us talks. And that tells you something about how many vice presidents we had. I remember one vice president of finance get up and explain that in Lackawanna, our Lackawanna plant, we have coke ovens that were built in 1910 and blast furnaces built in 1911, and they're fully depreciated, and it costs us nothing to make steel. In the question-and-answer, I raised my hand and said, I'm sorry, I don't understand why it doesn't cost you anything to make steel because you have old facilities. Oh, it's fully depreciated, you don't understand finance. And he was absolutely right, I was a twenty-five-year-old kid. A couple of years later I took a course at Lehigh University in Finance and Accounting, and I learned that I didn't know anything about finance and accounting, but I also learned that neither did he. Just because something's depreciated doesn't mean there's no operating cost. Operating something that's eighty years old is much less efficient than the Japanese stuff. They'd all been built after World War Two because we bombed out everything they had before World War Two, but we were still using the old pre-World War One stuff, and the management thought that was wonderful. That was the attitude of the American steel management of the integrated producers.
§4. The four-strand insight and the empowered employee [15:46]
So these people at Chaparral, rolling rebar, went out and found that rebar comes in a number of different sizes. Rebar is sized by eighths of an inch — number three rebar is 3/8 of an inch diameter, number five is 5/8 of an inch diameter, up to number sixteen rebar, which would be a two-inch diameter bar. They found there was about a thirty percent premium per pound for number three rebar. The reason was, you could only get so many tons through the rolling mill per minute. It might be coming through there as hot steel bar at sixty miles an hour, but when it's only that big you can only put so many tons through per hour. So they decided they were going to run their mill faster than anybody else. They tried for several months to run their mill faster, and it turns out there are lots of instabilities when you have hot steel bar at seventy, eighty miles an hour — it doesn't work very well.
Then they started thinking — now these are what today you'd call empowered employees, and I'll tell you more about how Gordon Forward got them empowered. They said, well, maybe we shouldn't run faster, maybe we should run slower, go in the opposite direction. This is a slide Gordon Forward gave me from twenty-five years ago. Here's the single bar going into the rolling mill at Chaparral, and at this stand they split it in two. So you see two coming out. Then they decided, if we did it once we can do it again. In this one you see two bars coming in and four coming out up here. They split each one again. So they started running at half the speed with four times as many strands, and guess what — they doubled their productivity at half the speed and they didn't run into the end instabilities. They took over the number three through seven rebar market, and the big integrated producers couldn't do any better.
So four-strand rebar rolling — they built a new facility at 0.8 person-hours per ton. This was around 1990, world-class. Gordon Forward used to say, when we started Chaparral Steel it cost $30 a ton for the Japanese to ship steel across the Pacific to the United States. That's just the cost of shipping. If we could make steel for less than $30 a ton labor, there's no way they can compete with us. That was their goal — to get the labor cost lower than the shipping cost into this country, because we were the market for the world. We still are, but not in steel anymore.
They had $450,000 sales per year per employee. Back in 1990 I developed a rule of thumb by looking at some big companies' sales and dividing by number of employees, and you'd always end up with something around $100,000 per employee. You could hire an engineer back in 1990 for forty or forty-five thousand dollars, an hourly worker for twenty-five thousand. You had to have a hundred thousand dollars of sales because your product cost you something, in order to employ people. Well, Chaparral had four and a half times that. I'd look at a company and say, they've only got seventy-five thousand dollars per employee, they don't have very good profitability. I'd look at another one, it might be $150,000.
In the mid-90s I was going through the Boeing door plant, where they make doors for aircraft. This is a very interesting business — purely deterministic. It only takes one year to make a door. Why should it take a year rather than three months? Well, it took them a year. One reason is, you have to drill each hole for each rivet about seven times. There's the original hole, rough hole, pilot hole, reaming hole — I don't remember all the reasons, but it's like seven times the guy with the hand drill is putting something through a hole. It's deterministic in manufacturing — the only place I've ever been that's deterministic. You know exactly what your sales are going to be at the end of the year, because the orders came in three years ago for the aircraft, and you didn't have to start building the doors until one year before the delivery because it took three years to build the aircraft. So you knew exactly what you had to build and when it was due.
I said, what does it cost to build a door? They said, we don't know — it was all internal pricing structure and the accounting probably had no relation to anything. I said, how many doors do you build each year? 750. How many employees do you have? 250. Oh, then each door costs you $50,000. They said, how'd you get that? Well, I used my hundred thousand rule — you divide 250 into 750 and it's $50,000 a door. This is not rocket science, folks, but it's just simple estimation. They asked some manager and he said, yeah, that's probably about right. So when you walk through that door in that airplane — well, that was twenty years ago, so it's probably a hundred-thousand-dollar door today. That includes even the little doors that you jump out the window, and it also includes the big cargo doors. So there's variation here, but the door you walk through is about a hundred-thousand-dollar door today. So that's one way to estimate things. But Chaparral had a much better than average sales per employee.
§5. Rolled beams, energy savings, and the Bethlehem mindset [22:42]
The rolled steel beams — they took that net-shape casting and put them in the rolling mills. Before they started doing this, forty-one percent of the rolled beams were imported from Japan or Romania or wherever. After they built their new mill, there were no more imports of structural beams of these sizes, and they were exporting twenty percent outside of North America. This was back in 1990, when everyone thought American steel was a dead industry, that they had lost their productivity. No — their productivity was still better than anyone else in the world when you have people actually thinking about how to innovate. And not a terribly large innovation — you go into a dog-bone shape as opposed to a rectangle, it's just an incremental change.
Let me tell you another story about the big integrated producers. I only worked for Bethlehem Steel for twenty months, but after about a year I was working on higher-toughness steels and I had come up with a process change that would make better-quality steel, no cost, just a simple little process change. I explained it to my boss, who was an MIT PhD from this department. He argued with me for a while, he says, why do we want to do this? I said, well, Jim, we make better-quality steel and it doesn't cost us anything. I finally convinced him, and we went up to the next-level manager, who was a PhD from Lehigh University, and he vetoed it. He says, it won't help us sell any more steel. That was their mindset. All they wanted to know was how to sell another million tons of steel. They couldn't care less about selling a better-quality steel. You want to know why they're bankrupt? Because they didn't care about better quality. That was their mindset.
The new mill had seventy-five percent energy savings. After the dog-bone shapes cooled down, they used to have to reheat them to bring them back up to the rolling temperature. Some of the guys in the mill said, oh, it's red hot, or mostly red hot, when it comes out of the continuous caster — why don't we go directly to the rolling mill, or put it through a reheater without letting it get down to room temperature? Before, they would cast them, cut them, store them out in the yard for a week or two, because you want to have a big inventory in case something broke down so you could keep your other mill running. They decided to do inline reheating. With this, they could go from casting to finished product in twenty-eight minutes without storing things in the yard. Less inventory and everything.
When they did all this with the net-shape casting — when it more looked like an I-beam — they got very fine-grained, all chill-cast structure in the casting, and higher tensile strength and toughness. The interesting thing in the structural steel business: they used to sell 36 ksi steel and 50 ksi steel, and you'd get a premium for the 50 ksi steel because you had to put a little alloying element in it. By going to net-shape casting and inline reheating, they went from twenty-eight passes through the mill to eleven, because you're at near-net shape. Tremendous savings. And it turns out what came out had enough strength for 50 ksi, and plenty of toughness because it was fine grain. All of a sudden, they could sell for the same price 36 ksi or 50 ksi. That's exactly what they did. They produced one product. You order 50 ksi, we'll ship you this; you order 36 ksi, we'll ship you the same thing, it just exceeds your quality requirements. And no one's complaining — they're getting a better product. In fact, if they were smart enough, they'd order 36, except the cert would say it's 36, and some auditor's gonna come through and say, you're using the wrong quality steel, the architect didn't design it for that. In any case, they were making a better-quality product.
§6. Recycling, the cement plant, and the secretary's question [27:54]
That's the story of Chaparral. How did they do it? Here's a picture of Gordon Forward — from Vancouver, Canada, originally, now retired in Southern California. This is a new mill they built in Virginia, and you can see the rolled beams coming off the caster. Gordon started selling steel as recycling. Gordon won an award from Tom Peters, who was a management guru, as the number one manager in the United States back in the early 90s.
Chaparral had both the steel operations, a cement operation, and an automobile recycling plant. So their scrap was old automobiles. They could shred an automobile in like sixty seconds. Before you shred it, you have to take certain things out — you've got to take the lead battery out, because you don't want lead in the steel. You've got to take the seats out, because the foam cushions — you don't want to start putting that into the steel mill. In fact that's the biggest problem — if you go to Chaparral, you see a big mountain of old foam cushions from automobiles. The guys at the recycling plant ripping these things out didn't make a lot of money on their hourly wage, but they collected the quarters people had dropped under the seat for twenty years, or even for five years. Gordon said they're getting about $300 a day in change, and he had a wheelbarrow to carry out the change.
They had a cement operation because one of their philosophies — they put it in Midlothian, Texas, right outside of Dallas, because Texas was building lots of highways, and they were going to pave Texas with rebar and cement. They take the old foam and use it to fire the kiln in the cement plant. That's how they got rid of the foam, so they're recycling that. And Motorola would pay them ten cents a gallon to take the wastewater from their semiconductor manufacturing plant, where they had high levels of arsenic. They used it to mix into their cement, because there's already arsenic in cement at higher levels — no one could tell that there was an increase in arsenic in the cement when you already have higher levels in the natural stone. They got paid for the water they were using. So the steel went to the steel plant, the foam went to fire the cement operations. The whole thing was an energy-recovery facility — they call it their Chaparral recycling project. This was 1994.
Gordon told me a story once. They were selling steel as recycling because politically that was good for the public. They wanted the public to know this was not a dirty old steel plant, this was a recycling plant that improved things. But when they were firing the cement operations with the foam, some people found out about this and wanted to know what pollutants are you putting into the atmosphere from your cement kiln? They had all the data — they knew what was going up the stack in terms of CO and other impurities. They were trying to figure out how to explain this to the people in Midlothian, to the City Council, who wanted to regulate them.
So they're sitting around the table trying to figure out how to explain that they weren't really the great evil Satan company. A secretary comes in to bring them their lunch, hears part of the conversation, and says, well, is this anything like the exhaust from an automobile? They started thinking about it, and they explained that the pollutants they were putting into the air were equivalent to two cars driving past the plant per hour. Once you learn to explain it in terms the public could understand, no problem. Oh, we've got lots of cars driving past that plant, two more is not going to hurt the environment.
§7. Profit sharing, blame, and the executive dining room [32:57]
Gordon Forward used to go around the country and he loved to give talks — he liked to be in the limelight. He was a great speaker, probably still is. He's probably ninety years old anyway. He became chairman of Chaparral Industries. A couple of things really motivated the people. One: they had profit sharing. You walk through that plant and every bulletin board had a picture of that week's profits. They knew how much they sold that week — they would post it. Every six months, every employee would get a check depending on how efficient they had been. People wanted to be efficient. When they were thinking about some new piece of capital equipment, these guys weren't figuring out, like at Bethlehem Steel, what's the biggest Cadillac we can buy and then approve that budget. They were trying to think, can I get by with a Yugo, or can I buy a used Chevrolet to do the same thing? Because they knew that was part of their money. So they took personal interest in it.
I was part of a study group, as part of the LFM project, in the early 90s on Chaparral. Steve Wheelwright, who was professor at Harvard Business School at the time, and I had been assigned Chaparral Steel. We went down and spent a couple of days at Chaparral with Gordon. We were supposed to be doing a study on how they would run projects — what made them different. We were taking five companies — some other people were doing Kodak, someone was doing Hewlett Packard. There's a book that talks about the five things. We were supposed to write up something about how Chaparral ran projects. So we met with Gordon the first morning, and I said, well, if you have an unsuccessful project, who gets the blame? Gordon didn't understand why I was asking. We go somewhere else, and the next manager we talked to, I said, how do you apportion the blame? They didn't stay on what I was talking about. I asked the question three or four times that day of different people, not in front of the same person, and they refused to answer it — they didn't understand. What do you mean?
That night I'm thinking — what is going on here? At every other company I'd been through, whether it was Bethlehem Steel or Boeing or General Motors, if you had a failed project, at the end someone got the blame. And that night I realized that the culture Gordon Forward and others had started at Chaparral was not who's going to get blamed if this project fails. What you got blamed for was, what have you done for me lately? If you hadn't tried to do something new and different in the past year, you were downgraded, you would not get as good a raise. They didn't care if your project failed because Gordon knew that not every project was going to be successful. What you got blamed for is if you didn't take some risk and try to do something differently during the past year. If you went a couple of years without trying to do something, you probably got fired at Chaparral. Completely different culture — a culture looking for innovation.
The other thing — we went to the corporate dining room, and Gordon was very proud of his corporate dining room. At Bethlehem Steel, we had one of the most expensive research laboratories in the country, built in the mid-60s — six hundred million dollars, it'd be billions and billions today — to build this Homer Research Labs up on top of the mountain overlooking the Bethlehem Steel plant and Lehigh University. When Beth went bankrupt, they basically gave it to Lehigh University, so now it's the Lehigh University facility. They had a beautiful cafeteria, and I would go up there sometimes for lunch, overlooking the top of the mountain. But we passed the executive dining room, and I saw strawberries in there the size of tennis balls. I've never seen — today you actually see some of these things at Costco, but back then this was something that my eyes bugged out to see. Of course, I never got to eat in there. The guy who was vice president of research was an MIT grad from this department. The management took care of themselves at Bethlehem Steel. In the 1930s, when Bethlehem Steel was losing money, six of the top ten paid executives in the United States worked for Bethlehem Steel — and they were losing money. Eugene Grace got a multi-million-dollar profit because it was all based on number of tons poured, not profit made.
I lived out near the airport. You'd drive by and see three or four Gulfstream jets, and these people would fly these to Florida on the weekend to play golf. If you were top management of Bethlehem Steel, you were treated like a king, and these guys thought they were. There weren't any women, by the way, in this group — it was a pretty sexist organization. Bethlehem had this terrible culture. At Chaparral it was different. We had some folding tables, Steelcase chairs — not as fancy as these, just regular old Steelcase chairs. They brought in some Texas barbecue, and we ate from paper plates and plastic forks. That was, as Gordon would say, the executive dining room at Chaparral. Because first of all, the employees, if they saw Gordon eating fancy, they'd know — that's my money, profit sharing, that's my money you're spending. Gordon had to set the example.
Gordon thought it was funny because he had seen these big palatial integrated steel facilities where they treated the management like kings. The fanciest resort I ever saw was in 1991 when I had to give a talk to the presidents of the American Iron and Steel Institute on why steel was important. It was in Orlando, Florida, one of the first fancy gated resorts, probably costing $1,000 a night. But these guys are not paying for it. That was true of lots of big companies — Kodak or Alcoa or Bethlehem — big corporate waste so far as that goes.
Any questions on that? So the mini mills now are over fifty percent of U.S. steel production, much more efficient both in capital cost of equipment, and they can now produce steel of similar quality to the integrated producers at much lower cost, and they're profitable.
§8. Reinforced concrete [41:13]
Let's talk a little bit about reinforced concrete, because we're talking about structural materials. Reinforced concrete is really a composite material. When we talk about the billion-ton-per-year club — we've got stone, and we've got concrete — well, the best concrete is reinforced. This is a reinforced concrete structure in Germany, a pretty fancy building. This is people actually pouring the concrete onto the steel rebar. You don't have to have steel rebar, but you can see on the tensile side of this beam, you've got the steel bars on the tensile side. You don't put them on the compression side, because concrete's fine in compression. It's all fracture mechanics here, the Griffith equations.
It has to be about five or ten percent cross-sectional area of steel compared to concrete, because steel's about ten to twenty times stronger than concrete typically. After thirty days after pouring, it has about a 3,000 psi tensile strength; steel's 30 to 60,000, pick your number. They also do fancy things like pre-tensioning these rods. As they're casting the concrete in something reinforced and important like this, they use big hydraulic jacks to put tension in the steel, so when you cast the concrete and then take the hydraulic jacks away, the steel contracts and puts everything into compression. So you keep the concrete in compression. Those are little tricks.
This is the Harvard football stadium. Anybody know why it's here? In 1983 it was named a National Historical Landmark because it's one of the first major reinforced concrete structures in the United States. It's like 1900 or something — you can look it up on Google. Reinforced concrete — 4.2 billion tons a year is concrete, not all reinforced, but it's a very low-cost material. People have learned to engineer with a very brittle material. I told you, steel is a wonderful structural material because it's got toughness. Most metals have some toughness, but guess what — we've got brittle concrete, which outsells on a tonnage basis all the metals in the world by a factor of two and a half or three. So we've learned to deal with brittle materials.
§9. Willow Glass and the corrosion of glass [43:59]
Brian talked about crown glass, and I won't redo that. You've probably talked about fiberglass manufacture and plate-glass manufacture and float-glass manufacture and strengthening of glass. You've got thermal tempered glass, mechanical, laminated, and chemical ion exchange. Someone said they wanted to do the Prudential building for their talk — they used chemical ion exchange, tied up about a year's capacity to make chemically tempered glass. I did want to talk a little bit about Willow Glass.
Two years ago Corning came out with something called Willow Glass. Very thin glass sheet — it's a hundred to two hundred microns thick. You can buy it in two sizes — that's four-thousandths of an inch, slightly more than one human hair, or eight-thousandths of an inch thick. You can obviously bend it. I wouldn't try bending it in a compound curvature, in two directions. But extremely strong and scratch-resistant — you can't even scratch it unless you've got a carbide or diamond tool. I can take a steel knife, a hard knife, and I won't scratch that glass. If I take a sharp knife up against window glass, it's significantly harder. But the problem of corrosion of glass —
Most glass that we know of has a significant decrease in strength over time. This is duration of stress versus bending stress. Glass starts out at 14,000 psi — as strong as aluminum, regular aluminum, not super aircraft-grade. Within one second it drops down here, and within an hour it drops to one-third of the original value. A day, a week, a month — it's down to a thousand psi, not as good as most plastics.
Bob Rose, my old thesis advisor, when he was teaching 3.091 forty years ago, would stop at the Sylvania plant up in Danvers — he lived up in Peabody — and pick up freshly made light bulbs from that morning. He'd come in at eleven o'clock, lecture in 3.091, take the glass light bulb and throw it against the wall, and it would bounce, it wouldn't fracture. You wouldn't dare do that with a day-old light bulb. What happens is, when you first make the light bulb or form the glass, it's got a very smooth surface, no small flaws. Remember, the fracture mechanics of glass is such that a hundred-micron flaw, and all of a sudden you've lost ninety percent of your strength. It turns out the problem is that the sodium and potassium oxides in the glass are attacked by the humidity in the air.
If I want to make something out of good fiberglass, I've got to make my glass fibers and coat them with that plastic within an hour or two, or I'm going to lose most of the strength of those fibers. When those fibers first come out of the fiber machine they are as strong as steel — they have no defects. But once the humidity attacks them, then I have little surface flaws, and fracture mechanics tells me I'm going to have lousy strength.
So what did Corning do? When I looked at this a few weeks ago — they use alkali-free borosilicate glasses. Alkali-free — no sodium oxide, no potassium oxide. They get rid of the corrosion problem. What else do they do? I will bet you money, because I know something about how Corning makes the flat-panel-display glasses for laptops and TV screens and cell phones — I will bet you money this is at least three layers, just like Corning Ware, the cookware. It's three layers of glass. It's laminated glass — top layer, bottom layer, like a peanut-butter-and-jelly setup, peanut butter sandwich. The middle layer is going to be a different coefficient of expansion. When you pull these things off, like a plate-glass manufacturer, rolls of these sheets of glass put together, three layers — you end up, when you cool it down, with compression on the surface and tension in the middle. So you can scratch it, you can have moisture attack it, but it's in compression. If you have compression in your glass, you're going to be stronger, and the critical flaw size is going to be much larger.
I will bet you money — I don't know what Willow Glass is, other than Willow Glass tells me it's alkali-free, that means no sodium and potassium attack by moisture, and I will bet you that they have done the same thing they've been doing for sixty years in big thick pieces of Corning Ware, where they laminate it and give you favorable compressive stresses. And they have other processing technology, which I know about for displays for the last ten years — they have taken it to the extreme of very thin. Now if you're going to have a backsplash in a kitchen, they paint the back of the glass, and you have a hard surface, very thin, just put right up against the wall, and it's an architectural marvel. Okay, I've run over a little bit.