Michael Lukie AlbertaScienceEducationJournalVol44No1August2015

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a publication

of the

Science Council

of the

Alberta Teachers’

Association

S c i e n c e Educa t i

o n Jou r n a l

A l b e r t a

Vol 44, No 1

August 2015



ASEJ, Volume 44, Number 1, August 2015 1

Contents 2 Contributors

3 From the Editor

Wytze Brouwer

4 Elite German Chemists in World War I

Michael Kohlman 12 The American Chemical Warfare Service in World War I and its Aftermath

Michael Kohlman

25 Fostering Student Metacognition and Personal Epistemology in the Physics Classroom Through

the Pedagogical Use of Mnemonic Strategies

Michael Paul Lukie

32 Three-Eyed Seeing? Considering Indigenous Ecological Knowledge in Culturally Complex

Pedagogical Settings

Gregory Lowan-Trudeau

38 Geothermal Home Heating

Frank Weichman

43 Millsap and the Level of Civilization Wytze Brouwer

45 Millsap and His- or Herland

Wytze Brouwer

Vol 44, No 1 August 2015

Copyright © 2015 by The Alberta Teachers’ Association (ATA), 11010 142 Street NW, Edmonton T5N 2R1. Unless otherwise indicated inthe text, reproduction of material in Alberta Science Education Journal (ASEJ) is authorized for classroom and professional development use,provided that each copy contain full acknowledgement of the source and that no charge be made beyond the cost of reprinting. Any other

reproduction in whole or in part without prior written consent of the Association is strictly prohibited. ASEJ is a publication of the ScienceCouncil of the ATA. Editor: Wytze Brouwer, Department of Physics, University of Alberta, 238 CEB, 11322 89 Avenue NW, Edmonton T6G 2G7.Editorial and production services: Document Production staff, ATA. Opinions of writers are not necessarily those of the council or the ATA. Address all correspondence to the editor. ISSN 0701-1024

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Personal information regarding any person named in this document is for the sole purpose of professional consultation between membersof the Alberta Teachers’ Association.



2 ASEJ, Volume 44, Number 1, August 2015

Contributors

Wytze Brouwer, PhD, is a professor emeritus in the Faculty of Education, University of Alberta, Edmonton,

Alberta.

Michael Kohlman, MEd, is a doctoral student in the Department of Secondary Education at the University of Alberta.

Greg Lowan-Trudeau, PhD, is an assistant professor of Indigenous Science Education in the Werklund School of Edu-

cation, University of Calgary, Calgary, Alberta, and an adjunct professor in the Department of First Nations Studies

at the University of Northern British Columbia, Prince George, British Columbia.

Michael Paul Lukie, MEd, is a doctoral student in the Department of Secondary Education at the University of

Alberta.

Frank Weichman, PhD, is a professor emeritus in the Department of Physics, University of Alberta, with an interest

in “renewables.”




For a variety of reasons, mostly involving outdated computers, your editor has been slow in getting this issue

out to the public.

Michael Kohlman, in “Elite German Chemists in World War I,” studies ways in which allegiance to national

goals often spurs scientists to great efforts to develop better and better weapons of destruction. It raises the

enduring question of how scientists can pretend to belong to the world as a whole, but then revert to narrow

nationalism during times of war.

Kohlman also looks at the American contribution to the development of chemical warfare in World War I.

Michael Paul Lukie investigates the uses of mnemonic strategies in order to foster a deeper understanding of

physics and of problem solving. The author reports considerable success in using these strategies.

Gregory Lowan-Trudeau, in his article entitled “Three-Eyed Seeing,” explores the experiences of newcomers

to Canada in learning about Indigenous ecological knowledge in formal and informal settings. Two-eyed seeinginvolves looking at the world simultaneously from both western and Indigenous perspectives. Three-eyed

seeing …

Frank Weichman provides interested readers with an overview of geothermal home heating and its potential

in Alberta. In his usual way, Dr Weichman includes a number of fairly simple calculations to help make sense of

the possibilities.

Wytze Brouwer introduces a pair of Bert Millsap’s wilder flights of fancy in “Millsap and the Level of Civiliza-

tion” and “Millsap and His- or Herland.”

From the Editor

Wytze Brouwer




Elite German Chemists in World War I:

A Case Study in Nationalist-Imperialist Ardour1

Michael Kohlman

A man belongs to the world in times of peace, but to his

country in times of war.

—Fritz Haber

AbstractThis article outlines the wartime contributions of three

elite German chemists and Nobel laureates: Fritz Haber,

Otto Hahn and Otto Warburg, and briefly discussestheir service to Imperial Germany (and briefly to its

successor states). These three scientists were selected

to represent the patriotism and nationalistic ardour of

many scientists, who were confronted by the greatest

international conflagration to occur up to that time.

World War I demonstrated the primary importance and

deadly capabilities of modern science and technology

in war, and also the necessity of industrial innovation

and production capacity, with ruthless logic. But perhaps

more than any other innovation, it was the premiere

of poison gas in combat that caused witnesses and

historians to label this conflict the “Chemists’ War.”

Science and the State As a long-time military buff and veteran chemistry

teacher, I find the topic of chemical weapons of con-

siderable personal interest. The role(s) of elite chemistsin World War I—the “Chemists’ War”—is unique nei-

ther to Germany nor to the Great War (Whittemore

1975; Russell 2001; Tucker 2006). This is just one case

study of the interplay of war and society with science

and technology, and a story of men at the highest levels

in their scientific field who heeded the urgent clarion

call to the service of their nation in a modern, total

war. (See also the article on the American Chemical

Warfare Service in WWI and its aftermath, on page 12

of this publication.)

Pacifists have sometimes branded scientists’ partici-

pation in war or war industries as a betrayal of the more

noble and benevolent aspirations of science—a sort of

nationalistic Faustian bargain with global consequences.

The controversy over Alfred Nobel’s creation of more deadly

and powerful explosives at the end of the 19th century

still leaves the Nobel Prizes with an indelible taint in

pacifists’ eyes, even more than a century later (Bown

2005, 171–83). The stamp of stereotypical Prussian

militarism has sometimes been applied to Nobel laure-

ates such as Fritz Haber, Otto Hahn or Emil Fischer, as

a pat explanation for complex personal motivations and

extraordinary cultural forces (Gispen 1991, 1569). In truth,this paper could just as easily have focused on British

or American chemical warfare programs, or the patriotic

efforts of other scientists and engineers in the service

of God and Country, going back to Sir Francis Bacon.

1 ar·dor: 1a: an often restless or transitory warmth of feeling <the sudden ardors of youth> b: extreme vigor or energy : INTENSITY

c: ZEAL d: LOYALTY. synonym: PASSION ( Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary [www.m-w.com/dictionary/ardor])

Figure 1. Fritz Haber (pointing) directs his gas-pioneer

troops at a munitions dump and explains to regular army

observers, before an Imperial German Army attack with

chemical warheads.




The flag-waving and nationalistic Sturm und Drang

that occur on all sides in a modern war pull even the

most elite scientists in their wake. Many people ex-

pected, even demanded, that scientists “do their bit”

in defending homeland, folk and their cherished way

of life, even as others reserved the right to express

revulsion and moral indignation when they were con-

fronted with the grotesque aftermath of modern war.

That scientists did respond to the call, often with

tremendous ardour, should not come as a surprise.

Given the accomplishments of science and engineering

in building the wonders of the modern technological

world during peacetime, should anyone be shocked by

the resulting destructive efficiency of their wartime

efforts, when the full energy of fevered industrial

economies is harnessed to the service of the state?2

The role of German chemists in the Great War is

now overshadowed by the scientists (most notably

atomic physicists) of the gigantic Anglo–US ManhattanProject, or those (such as former gas pioneer Otto

Hahn) involved in Nazi Germany’s more modest at-

tempts to produce the first atomic weapons in World

War II. However, the martial roles of the Kaiser’s chem-

ists (Johnson 1990) are very well documented and still

of great interest to scholars as well as to amateur mili-

tary and science history buffs. The public panic sur-

rounding Saddam Hussein’s threatened chemical Scud

attacks in Gulf War 1 and the exaggerated threat of

Iraqi nuclear, biological and chemical (NBC) warfare

capabilities that served as the pretext for Gulf War 2

are testament to the public’s continued phobia about

unconventional warfare (Tucker 2006).

Contrast this to the sometimes blasé indifference

to prolonged foreign conventional conflicts (and mod-

ern guerrilla wars and insurgencies), which kill far more

people every year than the chemical weapons of WWI.

An envelope containing imagined anthrax spores, or

the postulated dirty-bomb-in-a-briefcase prompts more

media coverage and domestic hypersensitivity than

thousands dying by attrition in faraway wars, even those

involving “our boys.” This is merely the latest version

of the same irrational fear that disproportionately de-cried attacks by chemical weapons that killed thousands

in the Great War, while tolerating death tolls running

into the millions from bullets, shells and bombs, which

nonetheless rely equally on modern chemistry for their

action (Bown 2005, 225). Was dying by exposure to

chlorine, phosgene, mustard or lewisite (see separate

article on American CWS in WWI) any more horrible

than the slow, agonizing death of the mortally wounded

in the hellish mud of Passchendaele or the Somme?

German industrial chemist and Nobel laureate Fritz Haber

had this to say on the subject (see Figure 1 on page 4):

Every war is a war against the soul of the soldier,

not against his body. New weapons break his morale

because they are something new, something he has

not yet experienced, and therefore something that

he fears. We were used to shell-fire. The artillery

did not do much harm to morale, but the smell of

gas upset everybody. (Goran 1967, 69)

Entire books and extensive journal articles have

been written on the introduction of chemical warfare

and other science-dependent innovations and war

industries in WWI. I intend to use Fritz Haber, Otto

Hahn and Otto Warburg as the poster-chemists for this

article, with just brief mention of others. It is by no means

a complete cast, but hopefully still representative.

Even an adequate mention of all German Nobel

laureates involved in the war effort during 1914–18,

not to mention other prominent scientists, would re-

quire much more space than this article allows. Gener-

ally, one can place these men into one (or more) of

three general categories:

1. Those that entered active military service (for in-

stance, O Hahn, G Hertz, O Warburg)2. Those that directed critical war industries and/or

coordinated efforts between scientific, industrial,

military and state institutions (E Fischer, W Ostwald,

C Duisberg et al)

3. Those that developed and/or improved chemical

weapons or delivery systems, and/or protective

countermeasures (for example, W Nernst—weap-

ons, R Willstätter—gas masks)

Some, including Haber and Hahn, actually performed

all of these roles at one time or another. Contrast this

to the rather sympathetic policies by which Americanscience students and working scientists were exempted

from service in WWII or, especially, the Vietnam con-

flict. One can argue that this is a rational consequence

2 See Cornwell (2003) for a thorough exposition of the Nazi and Anglo-American atomic fission research and development programs

before and during WWII, and the role of German chemists and biologists in WWII. Cornwell also has chapters on Fritz Haber and the

“Poison Gas Scientists” as their WWI predecessors.




of the higher priority given to science and science edu-

cation after WWI. Nonetheless, one has to admire the

spirit and moxy of Fritz Haber, Otto Hahn or Otto

Warburg, who voluntarily abandoned such prestigious

and promising scientific careers for the privations and

uncertainties of military service in the trenches and

battlefields of WWI.

Fritz Haber: “They Sow the Wind, andReap the Whirlwind” (Hosea 8:7)

Indeed, in the example of Herr Geheimrat 3 Dr Fritz

Haber (1868–1934), we have an almost perfect case

study of the Jekyll and Hyde of science and technology

in modern society, a brilliant morning star turned fallen

angel, doomed to suffer the consequent slings and

arrows of his chauvinistic patriotism in a true-life trag-

edy worthy of Faust, Othello or Hamlet. Haber’s love

of poetry and the classics, his legend as a great teacherand advocate of science and technology, and the enor-

mous ongoing humanitarian benefits of synthetic fertil-

izer that now allows billions of people to survive stand

in stark counterpoint to the “poisonous cloud” (Haber

1986) of many thousands killed by the chemical warfare

that he helped pioneer, or the millions of his Jewish

brethren who would later perish in Nazi gas chambers

flooded by Zyclon B (Cornwell 2003). Haber’s idol,

Goethe, could hardly have had a better model for

Dr Faustus (Goran 1967, 5).

When war broke out in 1914, Haber’s process for

the synthetic production of ammonia was already inthe initial stages of full-scale industrial production,

under the leadership of chemical engineer Carl Bosch

(Charles 2005; Johnson 1990). From an initial produc-

tion of 36,000 tons in 1913, ammonia production grew

rapidly in volume and relative importance, reaching over

200,000 tons by 1917, churned out by gigantic chemi-

cal plants eventually consolidated under the banner of

I G Farben (Cornwell 2003, 52–54). This contribution

alone allowed Germany to fight a long, resource-intensive

industrial war, long after traditional sources of nitrogen

for explosives, fertilizers and so forth had dried up due

to the strangling effects of the British naval blockade.

It could easily be argued that but for the Haber-Bosch

process, and Haber’s (et al) efforts to increase produc-

tion capacity, Germany would have been forced to

capitulate, perhaps as early as 1915 (Bown 2005, 4).4

In hindsight, that would have been a merciful blessing,

for all sides. But that was not to be Haber’s best-known

contribution to the war effort.

After the war erupted, Haber and many other German

scientists, university students and even tenured profes-

sors were either called up to active service or volunteered

in a wave of patriotic fervour. When Haber’s offer of mili-

tary service was first refused, he became severely de-

pressed for several weeks, and not for the first or last time

(Charles 2005). Soon, however, his Kaiser Wilhelm Institute

(KWI) for Physical Chemistry and other critical research

facilities were enlisted to aid the war effort, along with

those of Emil Fischer, Carl Duisberg, Walther Nernst et

al, in the Prussian War Ministry’s newly organized War

Raw Materials Department, under the leadership ofWalther Rathenau (Johnson 1990; see chapter 8, “Mili-

tary Strength and Science Come Together”). The scien-

tists were often appalled and frequently frustrated by

the bureaucratic and military leaders’ scientific/technical

ignorance and lack of planning and foresight, in stark

contrast to the old stereotype of Teutonic efficiency. In

addition to developing viable synthetic versions of mili-

tarily critical raw materials (ammonia, nitric acid, toluol,

gasoline, oil, rubber and so on), these men were also

key in developing “substitutes for essential products in

short supply. Thus the German Ersatz program was born”

(Johnson 1990, 188). The Haber-Bosch process was a vital industrial model for many of these attempts.

In 1915, Haber’s Berlin-Dahlem KWI for physical

chemistry became a centre for research and development

of tactical military science and technology. Johnson

(1990) explains the motivations for this program:

The bankrupt Schlieffen Plan catapulted the German

High Command into a situation on the Western

front without any precedent in their military tradi-

tions. With their lines thinly held and reserves of

munitions used up, they confronted an unbroken

line of trenches against which conventional weap-

ons often failed completely.

3 Geheimrat was the title of the highest officials of a German royal or principal court, equivalent to an English privy councillor. It was also

applied to heads of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institutes (KWI) even after WWI, as an honorific (also Excellenz).

4 The Versailles Treaty required Germany to disclose the secret technical details of the Haber-Bosch process, such as the preparation of

the catalyst, that had so far eluded Allied chemists’ attempts to replicate it. This marked the first time an industrial process’s secrets

were included as part of a peace treaty (Bown 2005, 231). Bown documents the fascinating story of the intersection of nitrates with

geopolitics, war and industrial power.




Innovation in weaponry arose not simply from the

unforeseen tactical problems of trench warfare, but

also from the crisis in strategic raw materials that

produced the Ersatz program. Thus the new chemi-

cal weapons were to be Ersatz themselves – a

substitute for conventional munitions. Recognizing

this, the generals swallowed their pride and turned

to the scientists whose offers of help they had

earlier spurned. (p 189)

Haber was not the first scientist to be directed

towards chemical weapon development. Duisberg and

Nernst had tried various nonlethal irritants in grenades,

shrapnel shells and bombs, in order to skirt sections

of the Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907. Haber was

the first to devise a simple but effective scheme. The

attack at Ypres, employing some 5,500 massed chlorine

cylinders, earned Haber the title of “Father of Gas

Warfare,” for better and for much worse (Johnson 1990,

190). Haber started his military service with a rank ofreserve-sergeant, but was then selected to head the

section of the War Ministry dealing with all aspects of

gas warfare, and eventually commanded a staff that at

war’s end reached 1,500. The moderate but underwhelm-

ing success of the first chlorine gas attacks (“Operation

Disinfection”) near Ypres, Belgium, in April–May 1915,

is described by Trumpener (1975, 460–80). The Kaiser

honoured Haber by making him a captain, an unprec-

edented rank for one of his Jewish heritage. His American

and British counterparts were made generals (Brophy

1956), although Haber is alleged to have “pulled” thatrank (or even higher civilian titles) in order to impress

uncooperative or nonchalant military/bureaucratic

functionaries who questioned his authority.

Haber alternately relished his military service and

accolades (including both classes of the Iron Cross, and

other decorations) and despised the pomp and the

rigid military methodologies and hierarchies. In asking

his friend and fellow KWI Geheimrat Richard Willstatter

for his help in developing an effective gas mask design,

he joked “I am a sergeant. I command you to the task”

(Goran 1967, 76). On another occasion he told a captain

attached to his staff, who had the strange habit of al- ways wearing his riding-spurs in the office, to “jump

on your horse and ride into the next room for the

documents” (Goran 1967, 77). Haber was furious that

the potential breakthrough at Ypres was squandered

due to lack of available reserves to exploit the premiere

of modern chemical warfare (Tucker 2006, 16). As Haber

had predicted, subsequent attempts lacked the same

shock value and were soon countered with a host of

defensive measures.

Despite his hectic schedule, including his presence

at multiple battlefronts, direction of programs at the

highest levels, and a progression to more and more lethal

chemicals, Haber never achieved the decisive strategic

breakthrough and war-winning results he had dreamed

of. One tactical success involving a chemical attack that

is not often mentioned was the late 1917 Austro-German

offensive near Caporetto, Italy, which earned then-

Captain Erwin Rommel his Pour le Mérite and produced

a much-celebrated victory over the surprised Italians in

their previously impregnable mountain fortresses alongthe wickedly rugged Isonzo Front (Hahn 1970, 127).

It is estimated that total fatalities due to gas opera-

tions by the war’s end neared 100,000. The normal

death rate for gas casualties was less than half that for

conventional weapons, and also paled in comparison

to deaths by disease, exposure and even “friendly fire”

(Haber 1986; Tucker 2006).5 Also, compared to gas

fatalities, many more German soldiers and civilians

died of disease and malnutrition in the closing phase

of the war as a result of the Allied blockade, but no

Allied naval commanders or politicians were branded

as war criminals. Like many of his colleagues, Haber

was eventually worn down by the gruelling wartime

conditions, punishing schedule and war-weariness, and

he became deeply despondent upon Germany’s pre-

cipitous decline and collapse in 1918. Not even the

Nobel Prize for Chemistry was enough to ease his woes,

and widespread condemnation of his war efforts

tarnished his otherwise sterling reputation in the in-

ternational scientific community, even after his sad

death in exile in 1934 (Charles 2005).6

Clara Haber’s suicide in 1915, as well as that of his

eldest son, his postwar fall from grace and his deathin exile after the Nazis rose to power will forever mark

5 There is a large discrepancy in casualty statistics for gas warfare in WWI, and even for conventional weapons vs other causes of death

(disease, death due to exposure after being wounded and so forth), but the sources used here are more accurate than some of the origi-

nal statistics from more partisan sources.

6 Haber received his award, alone, in June 1920, six months after the official ceremony; he was the first Nobel recipient not to be per-

sonally presented the award by the King of Sweden (Bown 2005, 1).




Haber’s story as one of the most tragic and ironic cases

in the history of science (Charles 2005, 165–69).7 There

are many intriguing parallels and contrasts to the ex-

ample of Haber with other contemporary and more

recent scientists that make Fritz Haber especially

worthy of detailed study. This list includes Haber’s WWI

gas-pioneer subordinate Otto Hahn, their fellow Ger-

man chemists and physicists of World War II fame, Nazi

exiles and refugees (Leo Szilard and Albert Einstein,

among others), and even the American physicist J Rob-

ert Oppenheimer (1904–67), of Manhattan Project fame

(see Cornwell [2003] for an explicit comparison).

Otto Hahn: My Life—My Country,Right or Wrong

This segue brings us to Otto Hahn (1879–1968). In

addition to his remarkable involvement in the Great

War, he later became one of the leading German sci-

entists exploring nuclear fission for its potential ap-

plications in energy production and use as a weapon

(Hahn 1970). If any single German scientist sparked the

fear on the part of the Allies that led to the Manhattan

Project, it was Hahn. Hahn earned his doctor of phi-

losophy in organic chemistry at Marburg in 1901, and

that same summer began his year of customary military

service. He could have been exempted, but instead

volunteered and was placed with Infantry Regiment

No 1 at Frankfurt, following in the footsteps of his two

older brothers (Hahn 1970, 58). He completed his year

as an acting sergeant-major but, despite passing thereserve officer exam, he declined the offer in favour of

an assistant’s position at Marburg in the lab of his

former professor. In postdoctorate forays to England

with Sir William Ramsay (Nobel laureate for discovery

of several noble gases) and McGill, in Montreal, with

Sir Ernest Rutherford (Nobel Prize for his nuclear theory

of the atom), Hahn’s career path switched to the study

of radioactive isotopes, still in the pioneer stage. After

returning to Germany he landed in Berlin, under

Geheimrat Emil Fischer (Nobel Prize for the chemistry

of sugars), who headed the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute

for organic chemistry.

Here Hahn began his long and fruitful collaboration

with Austrian-Jewish physicist Lise Meitner, which

eventually led to the Nobel Prize for the study of trans-

uranium decay and the development of the theory of

nuclear fission. In Berlin, Hahn also met Fritz Haber,

who later quite possibly prevented his becoming just

another scientist-turned-soldier killed in the massive

infantry battles at the front. Hahn was spared the cruel

fate of many other young science students, academics

and working scientists, as the call to arms went out to

many who had thought their bygone year of obligatory

service in peacetime would be just an innocent and

temporary flirtation with military life (Hahn 1970, 112).

After being called up to active service in a Landwehr

regiment in the summer of 1914, deputy-officer Hahn

was moved to the Western front, to participate in thegreat wheel through Belgium of the Schlieffen plan. He

did not experience front-line combat until going into

the line at Ypres that fall, as the opposing sides tran-

sitioned from a war of movement to the bloody stale-

mate of trench warfare. Hahn managed to win an Iron

Cross, Second Class, for manning some captured Bel-

gian machine-guns, in order to repulse a British attack.

He remained in Flanders until January 1915, when he

received an official summons to report to Haber in

Brussels (Hahn 1970, 114–16). Hahn reluctantly joined

Haber’s team of scientist-warriors, along with James

Frank, Gustav Hertz and others. Franck and Hertz won the 1925 Nobel Prize in Physics for their prewar

experiments of 1912–14, an important confirmation

of the Bohr model of the atom (Nachmansohn 1979, 63).8

After training with a newly created Giftgassonder-

kommando (a unit of engineer specialists, for poison gas

attacks), Hahn went back to the Ypres sector to help in

the deployment of the chlorine cylinders for the fateful

attack that officially launched the era of chemical war-

fare in the popular conception (Trumpener 1975).9

7 Clara Haber (his first wife, and a PhD in chemistry herself) shot herself with her husband’s service revolver after a bitter argument over

his role in the gas attack at Ypres. Haber had just left for the Russian front that morning, and the news came as a dreadful shock when itarrived days later (Tucker 2006, 16).8 Frank and Hertz won for their work on quantization of energy in the transformation from kinetic energy to light, as first postulated byMax Planck, and which they demonstrated more convincingly than Einstein.9 It is interesting to note that lance-corporal Adolf Hitler was a mustard-gas casualty near Ypres, in mid-October 1918. One night whilecouriering messages, he was caught for several hours in a long artillery barrage, but staggered to his destination and delivered his lastmessage at dawn before becoming temporarily blind. He ended the war in hospital convalescing; he recounted the traumatic experiencein Mein Kampf . This may help explain the German nonuse of chemical weapons in combat during WWII, despite extensive stockpiles of anew generation of chemical weapons, including the new nerve gases, like tabun and sarin (Tucker 2006, 18–20).




He was already away in the Champagne sector, scouting

for locations for future gas attacks, when the repeat-

edly delayed attack was finally launched. In May of 1915

Hahn witnessed attacks on Russian positions in the east,

in which phosgene was first mixed with chlorine in

artillery shells, and he observed first-hand the devastat-

ing results on the unprotected Russian conscripts. Hahn

was also involved in developing the chemical formula-

tions and designing systems for filling the chemical

artillery shells. He had several brushes with death or

blindness from minor accidents with these ghastly mix-

tures, despite their rather innocuous-sounding names,

like green-cross, blue-cross and motley-cross, taken

from the colour-coded markings on the shell casings

that denoted their deadly contents (Hahn 1970, 118).

At the end of 1916, Hahn was transferred to head-

quarters in Berlin as a staff officer (he was the lone

chemist of the group) under Colonel (later General)

Peterson, as a first lieutenant (Hahn 1970, 120–23).Despite his new position, Hahn was still involved in

dangerous experiments, even personally testing Will-

stätter’s new gas-mask design containing a synthetic

rubber additive (hexamethyl tetramine) that would

resist the corrosive effects of even the very nasty Bunt-

kreuz (motley-cross).10 Containing both phosgene

(COCl2) and diphenylchloroarsine, this mixture was

designed to eat through conventional rubber masks

and either cause painful burns or force the victim to

remove the mask and thus breathe the deadly vapours.

In hindsight, it is incredible that such a valuable scien-

tist and expert would be exposed to such risks, but

many of his gas-pioneer comrades suffered grievous

injuries or death in similar circumstances. Hahn spent

time at various fronts through the summer and fall of

1918, and ended the war in Wilhemshaven and Danzig,

as the Red sailor rebellions swept portions of the Impe-

rial Navy and the final collapse of Imperial Germany

occurred (Hahn 1970, 125–129). See Figure 2 below.

After WWII, Hahn was a vital national resource for

the rebuilding of West German science, and eventually

became the head of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society, later

renamed in honour of Nobel physicist Max Planck (Hahn

1970). His postwar exploits were considerably happier

and more successful than those of Haber, but he was

also to feel the sting of accusation and recriminationfor his scientific work under Nazi rule, and controversy

dogged his relations with the international scientific

community, even after his death in 1968. For a time,

there was a new synthetic element named in Hahn’s

honour (hahnium—element 105), which was proposed

after his death by a group from Berkeley under fellow

Nobel laureate Glenn Seaborg. However, in 1997, IUPAC

10 Richard Willstätter received the Iron Cross for his new gas-mask design (Nachmansohn 1979, 206) and the 1915 Nobel Prize in Chem-

istry for his research on the structure of chlorophyll pigments.

Figure 2. Hahn (on back of truck with guitar) off to war in 1914 in the infantry, and at right in the trenches near Ypres in

1918 as a gas-pioneer officer (note the gas mask that he helped test on his chest).




(the International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry)

officially changed the name of element 105 to dubnium,

after a long-running political battle with a Soviet/Rus-

sian group claiming they had produced it first (Roth-

stein 1995, 5–6). Just as military battles leave casualties

in their wake, battles in the politics of science also

leave scars, and many American texts and periodic

tables persisted in retaining hahnium.11

Otto Hahn also serves as an important link between

the pre-eminent Imperial German science (chemistry)

of the Great War (Johnson 1990) and what became the

new Holy Grail—atomic physics—in World War II. Like

Haber, who won the first post-WWI Nobel Prize in

Chemistry for a discovery made just before the war

and which was to affect its outcome, Hahn was to

receive his award amid controversy and public outcry

(Bown 2005). In November 1945, the Swedish Academy

awarded Otto Hahn the 1944 Nobel Prize in Chemistry

for his discovery of the fission of heavy atomic nuclei.Like Haber, he did not attend the official ceremony;

instead, King Gustav V of Sweden finally made the

presentation to Otto Hahn privately in December

1946.

Before concluding, we have perhaps the most hope-

ful example of all three principle characters here, and

one who earned his Nobel Prize in a category other

than chemistry. He had no direct personal direct in-

volvement with gas warfare, but avoided a soldier’s

death in the 1918 Michael offensive, in which German

casualties climbed precipitously, through the timely

intervention of perhaps the most famous German

scientist of all (Kohlman 2013).

Otto Warburg: Rejoice, For my son was dead and is alive again; he waslost, and is now found (Luke 15:23–24)

The final Nobel laureate to be profiled in this article

is Otto Warburg (1883–1970). A trained chemist and

acknowledged pioneer in the field of biochemistry,

Warburg eventually won the 1931 Nobel Prize in Physi-

ology or Medicine for his work in understanding cel-lular respiration and the role of oxidative enzymes, as

well as being a pioneer of early cancer research (Nach-

mansohn 1979, 233–37). Warburg was working in

Berlin under Walther Nernst in 1914, but he joined an

Uhlan (light cavalry) regiment and served with distinc-

tion on the Western front, rising to first lieutenant,

and was decorated with the Iron Cross, First Class. In

March 1918, he received a letter from none other than

Albert Einstein, begging him to give up active service

in the military in order to preserve his life and brilliant

promise in science. Einstein’s letter persuaded Warburgto return to Berlin, where he began working at the

Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Biology. Warburg got his

own department after the war, and by 1931 headed

the KWI for Cell Physiology, built with a special grant

from the Rockefeller Foundation.

Hitler came to power a year later, and yet, despite

his Jewish heritage, Warburg continued to head the

KWI for Cell Physiology throughout the war. Friends

with high-level Nazi connections even induced Reichs-

marschall Hermann Göring to downgrade Warburg’s

racial status to “one-quarter Jewish” (Nachmansohn

1979, 238). This, and Hitler ’s alleged phobia of cancer,apparently allowed Warburg to survive the Nazi po-

groms that purged Jewish academics in universities,

institutions and other key science positions and at-

tempted to eradicate the ideological menace of

“Jewish-Science,” which claimed such luminaries as

Einstein and Haber (Cornwell 2003, 103–41). This is all

the more miraculous considering Warburg’s repeated

bold statements critical of the Nazi regime, which re-

quired the timely intervention of a Reichsleiter in Hitler’s

Chancellery to protect him (Nachmansohn 1979, 254).

Otto Warburg worked actively in his laboratory rightup to his death at the age of 87, having been granted

a special waiver from mandatory retirement by the Max

Planck Society, the post–WWII successor to the Kaiser

Wilhelm Institutes of Imperial days.

ConclusionThis cursory case study of elite German scientists

has intended to highlight their wartime involvement

at the apex of Imperial German scientific academia and

technological power. One cannot help but be humbledby their brilliance, dedication and extraordinary life

experiences. Their legacy in science and society since

their tenure as the “Kaiser’s chemists” is still remark-

able, a full century after the outbreak of the Great War.

11 Chemists and physicists will find it interesting that element 109—meitnerium, named after Hahn’s once-snubbed Jewish Berlin-

Dahlem colleague—survived intact the American–Russian cold war of naming synthetic elements.




That there are so many others who perished in that

great cataclysm that was supposed to end all wars is

but one great shame of that conflict. That others con-

tinued to die in wars, armed insurrections and revolu-

tions fuelled by ever more deadly “Nobel-inspired”

military technology and the willing perversion of sci-

ence’s noble aspirations is perhaps the ultimate crime

of the 20th century. That the oft-repeated mistakes of

this dark past continue to threaten humanity in the

new millennium also raises the fundamental question

as to whether humanity can ever really learn from the

past, or instead be doomed to repeat it ad infinitum,

until our ability and willingness to destroy ourselves

utterly is finally realized in one last inglorious burst of

deadly earnestness and brilliant innovention.

This article began with a quote from German-Jewish

chemist Fritz Haber. It closes with a picture taken at

the Trinity test site after the detonation of the first

atomic bomb (see Figure 3) and a quote from American- Jewish physicist J Robert Oppenheimer. The quote was

taken from the Bhagavad Gita, but slightly changed.

What it leaves out is at least as interesting. It is impos-

sible to state how the course of history might have

been altered if Fritz Haber and Robert Oppenheimer

(and their many colleagues) had taken these scriptures

to heart. It is fortunate we survivors still have the

chance to imagine, and thereby avoid, the fulfillment

of those ancient scriptures. Let us Imagine how we

might each contribute to an alternate destiny.12

ReferencesBown, S. 2005. A Most Damnable Invention: Dynamite, Nitrates,

and the Making of the Modern World. Toronto: Penguin.

Brophy, L P. 1956. “Origins of the Chemical Corps.” Military

Affairs 20, no 4: 217–26.

Charles, D. 2005. Master Mind: The Rise and Fall of Fritz Haber .

New York: HarperCollins.

Cornwell, J. 2003. Hitler’s Scientists: Science, War, and the Devil’s

Pact . New York: Penguin.Gispen, K. 1991. Review of The Kaiser’s Chemists: Science and

Modernization in Imperial Germany by Jeffrey A Johnson.

American Historical Review 96, no 5: 1569.

Goran, M. 1967. The Story of Fritz Haber . Norman, Okla:

University of Oklahoma Press.

Haber, L F. 1986. The Poisonous Cloud: Chemical Warfare in the

First World War. New York: Oxford University Press.

Hahn, O. 1970. My Life. London: MacDonald.

Johnson, J A. 1990.The Kaiser’s Chemists: Science and Modernization

in Imperial Germany. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North

Carolina Press.

Kohlman, M. 2013. “The Influence of Imperial German Science,Education and Research on America and Britain, 1871–1941.”

Alberta Science Education Journal 43, no 1: 26–33.

Nachmansohn, D. 1979. German-Jewish Pioneers in Science:

1900–1933. New York: Springer-Verlag.

Rothstein, L. 1995. “The Transfermium Wars.” Bulletin of the

Atomic Scientists 51, no 1: 5–6.

Russell, E P. 2001. War and Nature: Fighting Humans and Insects

with Chemicals from World War I to Silent Spring. New York:

Cambridge University Press.

Trumpener, U. 1975. “The Road to Ypres: The Beginnings of

Gas Warfare in World War I.” Journal of Modern History 47,

no 3: 460–80.Tucker, J B. 2006. War of Nerves: Chemical Warfare from World

War I to Al-Qaeda. New York: Pantheon.

Whittemore, G F. 1975. “World War I, Poison Gas Research, and

the Ideals of American Chemists.” Social Studies of Science 5,

no 2: 135–63.

Figure 3. Is a picture worth a thousand verses?

“Now I am become Death—the destroyer of worlds.”

—J Robert Oppenheimer

Oppenheimer’s famous quote refers to the following

passage from the Bhagavad Gita, chapter 11, verse 32:

“The Blessed Lord said:

Time I am, destroyer of the worlds,

And I have come to engage all people.

With the exception of you,

All the soldiers here on both sides will be slain.”

12 A shameless reference to the John Lennon song of the same name.




The American Chemical Warfare Service in World War I and Its Aftermath: Brewing an

End to War and Ensuring a ProsperousPeace for Science and Industry

Michael Kohlman

AbstractThis article explores the wartime development and

postwar legacy of the American Chemical Warfare

Service (CWS) as an important developmental proto-

type on the long road to Big Science and Total War, as

well as a first stirring of an American military–industrial

complex, decades before the more publicized rise to

prominence of physics and engineering in WWII and

the early Cold War. The “Chemists’ War” had an enor-

mous impact on America's nascent science, technology

and industry, as well as spurring science education. It

also deeply affected the public’s perception of war,chemistry, and government-directed science and tech-

nology for military purposes. Ultimately, the poison

gases used in wartime began to be exploited for com-mercial applications as pesticides, agricultural poisons

and other toxins whose long-term health and environ-

mental consequences exceeded their predecessors’

direct effects in combat.

IntroductionThe phenomenon of chemical warfare is most

closely linked to the horrific stalemate of trench war-

fare on the Western Front of World War I, even though

there have been several notorious episodes in morerecent conflicts.1 This history has been extensively

explored and documented, including a personal foray

1 The ongoing civil war in Syria has again thrust chemical weapons into the news and the public’s consciousness, but the most deadly

modern example is their use by the forces of Saddam Hussein in both the Iran–Iraq War and subsequent controversial use against the

Kurd minority in northern Iraq in 1988 (Christianson 2010, 109–15). For a detailed exposé of the genesis of chemical weapons in combat

see Trumpener (1975).




into the experience of several elite German chemists

as impromptu chemical warriors (see “Elite German

Chemists in World War I,” pp 4–11). In this article, I

will explore the development and postwar legacy of

the American Chemical Warfare Service (CWS) as an

important developmental prototype on the long road

to Big Science and Total War, as well as a first stirring

of an American military-industrial complex several

decades before the more publicized instauration of

physics and military engineering in WWII and the Cold

War. The “Chemists’ War” had an enormous impact on

America’s nascent science, technology and industry

and deeply affected the domestic public’s perception

of war, chemistry, and government-directed science

and technology for military purposes (Kohlman 2013).

In just two short years, American chemists, army of-

ficers, bureaucrats and industrialists created the

world’s largest gas-warfare combat service, the largest

stockpile of chemical weapons, their own poison gas(lewisite) and, more important, the largest American

government-sponsored scientific research and develop-

ment organization to that time (Brophy 1959; Vilensky

2005).

Many of the founding fathers of the Chemical War-

fare Service became ardent converts to and fervent

evangelists for the cause of chemical weapons and the

vital role of scientists and industry in waging a modern

war or maintaining a fragile peace. In the public furor

over chemical warfare, poison-gas advocates were vili-

fied and pilloried for their “uncivilized views.” This

opposition was largely due to the very effective pro-

paganda campaign the Allies had waged against “The

Hun’s” indiscriminate use of barbaric weapons of mass

destruction that violated established military codes of

chivalry and decency. Despite fierce public and regular-

army opposition, the inspired efforts of these chemical

warfare advocates were eventually rewarded with the

permanent establishment of the Chemical Warfare

Service as a separate branch of the army, later to be

expanded to corps strength (Brophy 1959). Their tire-

less campaign also resulted in enhanced government

support for chemistry education and for chemical re-search, development and commercial applications of

deadly chemicals (Russell 2001). The American experi-

ence with chemical weapons cum commercial products

also serves as a foreshadowing of the Cold War-era

promotion of the “peaceful uses of nuclear weapons”

in what became known as Project Plowshare, sponsored

by the Atomic Energy Commission (Kohlman 2012).

I argue that this prior historical episode was a first

stirring of what eventually became known as the Ameri-

can military–industrial complex and a prequel to so-

called Big Science and Technology mobilized for Total

War. In addition, the rapid growth of the CWS served

as a template for later crash programs in World War II

that would in turn form the conceptual mold for Cold

War-era science and technology. In a world with thou-

sands of thermonuclear weapons and the more recent

bogeyman of biological agents as terror devices, poison

gases have lost much of their fear factor and shock

value, but they continue to be manufactured and stock-

piled in secret military arsenals around the world and

remain a viable terror weapon for smaller players on

the world stage (Tucker 2006, 367–86).

America Adjusts to War

“Over There”Even before America’s direct entry into the Great

European War, there were dramatic impacts upon

America’s chemical industries and all those reliant on

its numerous products. Severe shortages and supply

disruptions occurred as a result of the imposed block-

ade of Germany and the increased demand from

America’s allies for both essential raw materials and

strategic chemicals. American chemistry, science and

trade journals chronicled the grave challenges, savvy

innovation and prodigious efforts to replace prewar

sources and imports with domestic production andalternatives. One account, from a December 1915

speech (Withrow 1916) by the president of the Chem-

istry Section of the American Association for the Ad-

vancement of Science (AAAS), applauds and briefly

profiles the great strides the chemical industry had

made since conflict erupted in far-off Europe in autumn

1914, in a Science article entitled “The American Chem-

ist and the War’s Problems”:

On every hand we see chemical activity without

end. Products like synthetic phenol and barium salts

not made in this country before the war are nowmade in large amount. Great expansion in produc-

tion has taken place in the case of such material as

benzol, toluol, aniline products, naphthalene, car-

bon-tetra-chloride, acids, alkalis, chlorates, chro-

mates and even oxalic acid. With all of these we

were largely or in part dependent on imports, but

have almost ceased to be so since the war began.




Fertilizer plants erect their own sulfuric-acid works

and insecticide makers their own arsenic-acid

plants. Textile mills make their own bleach. Num-

bers of manufacturers replace potash compounds

by sodium compounds and, to my own surprise at

least, often with great improvement in results.

Where formerly was the most peaceful of occupa-tions, even fertilizer manufacture, every effort now

goes to the making of munitions. New plants spring

up at the beck and call of the new conditions such

as the world has never seen. Think of a battery of

one hundred nitric-acid stills each charging 4,000

lbs. of sodium nitrate three times a day. Think of

the fact that this one of a number of such (the larg-

est nitric acid plant in the world, it is said) plants

which a year ago did not exist except in the minds

and plans of a group of chemical engineers. How

little are we able to comprehend the reality of

producing 1,000,000 pounds per day of gun-cotton where a year ago was merely pine-woods. (p 837)

Already the world leader in steel production, pe-

troleum refining, automobile manufacture and a host

of other industrial benchmarks (Bland 1977), America

expanded its output of hundreds of chemicals, com-

modities and manufactured products necessary to

prosecute war on an industrial scale. Even without the

production of chemical weapons, the transformation

of chemistry and related applied industries in the

United States would have been remarkable. As the

“Arsenal of Democracy,” America’s status as a greatpower was cemented in the minds of its European allies

and its future enemies. As the British Munitions Board

chair declared in 1916, “The DuPont company is en-

titled to the credit of saving the British Army” (Russell

2001, 30).

American chemists asserted the primacy of their

contribution to the war, and their leaders urged military

and political leaders to utilize chemists and engineers

wisely. They highlighted the initial mistakes the Euro-

pean powers made in sending vital scientific talent,

skilled engineers or technical experts to the front ascannon fodder, only to be later urgently recalled to the

industrial home front. As AAAS Chemistry Section chief

Withrow (1916) put the issue,

[T]he present war is a struggle between the indus-

trial chemical and engineering genius of the Central

Powers and that of the rest of the world. Quite ir-

respective of the war’s origins, aims, ideals or political

circumstances these are the cohorts from which

each side derives its power. (p 840)

In order to deal with the inevitable supply and

manpower shortages and bottlenecks, American lead-

ers sought to rationalize and more efficiently direct

the vital industries, scientific and engineering experts,

and administrative talent of the US. In April 1916, theNational Academy of Sciences created the National

Research Council (NRC) to organize scientific research

in government, industry and educational institutions

to ensure the “national security and welfare” of the

United States (Russell 2001, 31). This body spun off

many committees and specialty subgroups to organize

and manage the supernumerous aspects of the indus-

trial war effort.

America Enters the Chemists’

WarNotwithstanding the alleged revolution in warfare

that chemical weapons represented after the initial

German deployments in Belgium in May 1915, it was

not until April 1917 (the same month that America fi-

nally declared war on the Central Powers) that the NRC

formed its Subcommittee on Noxious Gases (Vilensky

2005, 16). It was placed under the joint auspices of the

Federal Bureau of Mines, the American Chemical Soci-

ety and the Chemistry Committee of the NRC. By July

1917, “fifteen thousand chemists had responded to a

survey asking for help in the war effort” (Vilensky 2005,

16). But it was not until the July 1917 battlefield debut

of “mustard gas” (2,2-dichlorodiethyl sulfide, a greenish

liquid at room temperature) that the US Army showed

a real interest in chemical warfare or in acquiring their

own offensive capabilities. Allied research teams

scrambled to match and counter Germany’s diabolical

new weapon, which did not require actual breathing

into the lungs to do its damage. As General “Black Jack”

Pershing commented, after arriving in France in time

for its inglorious premiere, “the impression was that

the Germans had now thrown every consideration ofhumanity to the winds” (Price 1997, 58).

Thus, a simple respirator-mask was no longer an

effective defensive measure. Absorption of the mustard

gas through the skin was just as effective as breathing

it in, producing horrible blisters and blindness a few

hours after initial exposure, and it was persistent for

several weeks after deployment. It was often mixed




with other agents such as phosgene, as by itself mus-

tard gas was usually not fatal. However, the terrible

suffering and wounds it caused and the long rehabilita-

tion process required meant that seriously affected

soldiers became noncombatants, tying up valuable

medical and support services for extended periods of

time (Christianson 2010, 35–38). As such, mustard gas

was more effective as a defensive weapon and to harass

enemy concentrations or deny avenues for advance.

Effective defense now included more expensive, heavy,

cumbersome protective coverings for the whole body

that made life in the trenches even more miserable.

The US Army Ordnance Department built mustard-

gas manufacturing and shell-filling plants at the military

reservation at Gunpowder Neck, which became Edge-

wood Arsenal, on a narrow peninsula protruding into

Chesapeake Bay, Maryland (Tucker 2006, 19). Some

1,200 scientists and engineers were employed there.

American and British researchers and engineers alsoimproved the speed and efficiency of the manufactur-

ing process, as well as increasing the lethality of the

original German formulation. By war’s end, 675 tons

of toxic agents (primarily phosgene and mustard) were

being produced each week, so that America was out-

producing all other belligerents combined, although

very little was actually shipped to Europe (Brophy 1959,

13). Much of the US Army’s stockpile was dumped in

deep Atlantic waters during the winter of 1919–20,

50 miles off the coast of Maryland, in sealed metal

drums (Christianson 2010, 41).

By the end of May 1917, the Bureau of Mines had

arranged for laboratory facilities at 21 universities, and

more institutions were recruited later. The main labs

for conducting research on poison gases were sited at

Catholic University of America (CUA) and American

University (AU), on the outskirts of Washington, DC

(Vilensky 2005, 17–18). At the time, AU consisted of

one completed building, but it grew to 153 by war’s

end. The CWS also established an experimental testing

station (AUES) to test the effects of their creations,

outside the city on a tract of 509 acres. The volunteer

civilian chemists and academic administrators who

were hired to research and develop chemical weapons

and defensive countermeasures were often given re-

serve military commissions. At Catholic University, a

young Northwestern University chemistry professor,

now Captain Winford Lewis, became the head of Or-

ganic Unit No 3 of the Offense Research Station in the

summer of 1917 (Vilensky 2005, 1–12). His direct su-

perior was Harvard chemistry professor and newly

minted captain James B Conant (soon promoted to

major).2 Together with many others they would create,

test and produce lewisite as America’s answer to the

mustard gas that was replacing phosgene as the most

dreaded scourge of the Chemists’ War.3

Lewis and Conant’s task upon commencing their

patriotic duties was to develop an acutely toxic offen-sive chemical weapon before the Germans could. The

preliminary specifications required that it be: “(1) ef-

fective in small concentrations; (2) difficult to protect

against; (3) capable of injuring all parts of the body;

(4) easily manufactured in large quantities; (5) cheap

to produce; (6) composed of readily available materials;

(7) easy and safe to transport; (8) hard to detect; and

most importantly, (9) deadly” (Vilensky 2005, 20).

Lewis’s search for the “king of war gases” led him to

examine a variety of compounds, including organic

derivatives of arsenic. After Lewis’s successful synthesis

of a promising candidate, several weeks of tests con-

firmed its suitability as an offensive agent for warfare.

With the assistance of Conant, Unit No 3 developed a

process for producing and purifying lewisite in small

batches. The toxicity was estimated to be 75 times

higher than mustard, and it accounted for numerous

casualties among the teams at CUA and AUES, and even

local farm animals and wildlife.4

2 Conant would go on to a very successful career as a scientific administrator, becoming a chief protégé of Vannevar Bush in WWII, a

high-level manager in the Manhattan Project, an ambassador, and a trusted science and education advisor to postwar American presi-

dents (Vilensky 2005, 86–88).3 Lewisite has a rather contested origin. In addition to wartime German research teams, a number of other chemists later claimed tohave produced it before Lewis. One was an academic Jesuit priest, Father Julius A Nieuwland (1878–1936), who did his doctoral researchon the reactions of acetylene and was awarded the first PhD in chemistry at CUA in 1904. Nieuwland’s discovery was accidental–one whiff put him in the CUA infirmary for a week, but his doctoral thesis was used by Lewis in his research into chemical weapons. See Vilensky (2005) for details on the origins of lewisite and the biographical background of its American inventors.4 In one incident at AUES, a small accidental release of lewisite travelled outside the confines of the base, reached the farmyard of re-tired US Senator Nathan B Scott and resulted in the deaths of several animals and birds. It was soon explained in a Washington Post storyas a test of “German mustard gas” that had gone wrong.




After initial development and testing at CUA and

AUES, the task of coordination of the process of scaling

up to larger production was passed onto Major Conant,

who was transferred to the Development Division of

CWS. An abandoned motor plant in Willoughby, Ohio,

was located in July 1918; it was within commuting

distance of Cleveland, the site of the gas-mask factory

and testing station operated by the Bureau of Mines

at Nela Park. There was intense pressure to ready a

supply of lewisite (in the range of 3,000 tons) for the

planned spring 1919 Allied offensive that promised to

push the Germans out of France and finally end the

War (Vilensky 2005, 37–40).

Major Conant and the assigned army personnel

quickly began the laborious process of converting the

old Ben Hur motor plant to its new purpose of produc-

ing lewisite. No cost was spared, and the highest prior-

ity was granted to acquiring and purchasing the needed

equipment and infrastructure. Stringent securitymeasures were employed, including a barbed-wire

perimeter fence with armed guards on around-the-

clock patrol, and a temporary barracks and mess-hall

were built on the site. Some $5 million was invested

just to construct and equip the facility. By early No-

vember 1918, 22 officers and 542 enlisted men were

working in production operations (Vilensky 2005, 43).

Then the news of the Armistice arrived—the war was

over.

Aftermath of the Chemists’ WarIn all, some 125,000 tons of poison gases were

expended during the conflict, versus some 2 million

tons of high explosives and 50 billion rounds of small-

arms ammunition (Spiers 2010, 27). Chemical weapons,

despite the disproportionate publicity that their use

sparked in the popular media, accounted for less than

5 per cent of all combat fatalities.5 Most of these (about

50,000) were Russian soldiers on the Eastern Front,

where human attack waves of poorly protected infantry

were easily slaughtered en masse by chemical barrages.

Very little lewisite was actually produced by the endof the war, and none was used in combat. Instead, the

combat arms of the CWS attached to the American

Expeditionary Forces (AEF) in France largely relied on

British stocks of mustard gas and phosgene. By the end

of the conflict, about 15 per cent of American artillery

shells were filled with these chemical agents, and al-

most 30 per cent of AEF battlefield casualties were due

to exposure to chemical weapons, although these wereseldom (less than 2 per cent) fatal (Spiers 2010, 36–44).

Therefore, some sober commentators viewed the re-

sources lavished on chemical weapons programs as a

waste, and the weapons themselves an overall failure

in terms of producing decisive results.

However, had the conflict lasted well into 1919,

there were plans for a much enlarged and vigorous use

of poison gases, including lewisite (Christianson 2010,

40–42). One of these plans was to drop lewisite canis-

ters to exterminate all animal life in the strategic Ger-

man fortress city of Metz, once the Allies had pushed

German forces out of France (and thus out of range ofeasy retaliation). A Colonel Walker, stationed at Edge-

wood Arsenal, elaborated in December, 1918:

Our idea was to have containers that would hold a

ton of mustard gas and lewisite carried over for-

tresses like Metz or Coblenz by plane … The gas,

being heavier than air, would then slowly settle and

disperse. A one-ton container could thus be made

to account for perhaps an acre of territory, and not

one living thing, not even a rat, would live through

it. The planes were made and successfully demon-

strated, the containers were made, and we wouldbe turning out the gas in the requisite quantities

in time for the planned offensive. (Christianson

2010, 40)

An even more ambitious plan was to deliver several

large chemical bombs to Berlin using long-range bomb-

ers, which had only been developed towards the end

of the conflict. Thus we have the first hint of a strategy

of “carpet bombing”—not with high explosive or in-

cendiary bombs, but with a deadly mist of lewisite and

mustard targeting the legions of factory workers and

the large civilian population that supplied the labourand essential services for the industrial war machine.

5 One of the more influential gas casualties was a young lance-corporal named Adolf Hitler, caught in a chemical artillery barrage in

October 1918, near Ypres. His account of the experience in Mein Kampf may go some way toward explaining the nonuse of poison gases

in combat by Germany in WWII (Tucker 2006, 19–20). Hitler ’s views on race hygiene, on the other hand, did allow for the use of lethal

gases, first in exterminating the “unfit” as part of Nazi eugenics, and then Jews and other targeted racial groups as part of the Final

Solution.




Starting in 1919, numerous articles began to appear

in the popular press, as well as various scientific jour-

nals and trade publications, hailing the efforts of

American chemists and engineers for their vital role in

winning the war for democracy. With titles like “Dew

of Death,” “Our Super-Poison Gas” or “Dealing Death

from the Air – Three Drops at a Time,” these articles

did more to fan the fears of the already nervous and

revolted public rather than stirring up patriotic support

for the CWS and Yankee wonder-weapons (Vilensky

2005, 53–62). Not surprisingly, lewisite and other war

gases began to be featured in fictional works of mass

annihilation, three decades before their nuclear suc-

cessors would come to dominate the genre. In a more

scholarly article, Whittemore (1975) analyzed the

motivations and perceptions of gas warfare advocates

in the Great War:

How did the chemists involved view their accom-

plishments? The greatest actual impact the Chemi-cal Warfare Service had on the war was undoubt-

edly the distribution of gas masks and the

production of tons of mustard gas. The researchers,

however, came to view the development of ‘Lew-

isite’ as their greatest achievement, even though

it was never actually used in the war. The power

of this gas was emphasized for propaganda pur-

poses and exaggerated by the popular imagination.

By the end of the war, its properties were believed

to be fantastic:

It was invisible; it was a sinking gas, which wouldsearch out the refugees of dugouts and cellars;

if breathed it killed at once …Wherever it settled

on the skin, it produced a poison which pene-

trated the system and brought almost certain

death. It was inimical to all life, animal and

vegetable. Masks alone were of no use against

it … An expert said that a dozen Lewisite bombs,

might, with a favourable wind, have eliminated

the entire population of Berlin. (p 154)

As the publicity about lewisite spread, it prompted

active debates in the public realm as well as govern-ment, military and scientific circles. Not surprisingly,

most ordinary Americans reacted with horror and revul-

sion, just as the previous anti-German propaganda

campaigns had intended. Or, having lost friends or

relatives and seeing the scars and wounds of veterans

(from whatever cause) they wanted to ban chemical

weapons along with any future occurrence of war.

Similar reactionary and pacifist sentiments were

widespread in Europe. Price asserts that “unquestioned

faith in the beneficence of technological progress was

radically challenged by the disillusioning experience

of the war” (Price 1997, 69). The articles of the Ver-

sailles Treaty included strengthened provisions against

the use of poisonous or asphyxiating gases and banned

their research, development and manufacture in Ger-

many (Tucker 2006, 20–22). The international peace

conferences that followed the establishment of the

League of Nations also made specific prohibitions on

the development, stockpiling and future use of deadly

chemical weapons.

It was at this point, amid swirling negative public

reaction and government threats to cancel research or

production contracts and disband the CWS, that the

scientists and military leaders who had become ardent

converts to the cause were enlisted in a convoluted

and protracted public campaign to preserve theirthreatened profession. Conant, Lewis and even the

good Father Nieuwlands were interviewed and paraded

before the press or at military–government hearings

over the next decade. More than any other luminary,

however, it was the tireless campaigning of General

Amos Fries, the CWS chief of the AEF and future general

in command of the expanded service, that tipped the

balance towards the permanent establishment of the

CWS, later to be expanded to corps strength in the

post-1938 buildup to World War II (Vilensky 2005,

56–69).

Fries had been initially reluctant to lead the first

regiment of army engineers to be trained for gas-

warfare operations in 1917. Like many regular army

officers, he had a distaste for new, unconventional

weapons, especially something as insidious as poison

gases. By the end of the war, however, Fries had be-

come an enthusiastic, almost Darwinian advocate of

their potential in modern, progressive scientific

warfare:

Chemical warfare is an agency that must not only

be reckoned with by every civilized nation in the

future, but is one which civilized nations shouldnot hesitate to use. When properly safeguarded

with masks and other safety devices, it gives to the

most scientific and ingenious people a great advan-

tage over the less scientific and less ingenious. Then

why should the United States or any other highly

civilized country consider giving up chemical war-

fare? (Tucker 2006, 20)




Thus began a long public campaign linking chemical

weapons to scientific progress, emphasizing their

humanity and desirability versus their more conven-

tional counterparts, as well as their peaceful applica-

tions in agriculture, industry and even household use.

For General Fries, the most pressing task was to con-

vince the Wilson administration, the Army brass and

Congress to preserve the CWS as a separate service

instead of proceeding with the planned amalgamation

with the Army Corps of Engineers, six months after

cessation of hostilities. In May 1919, Fries urged his

subordinate officers in the CWS and the scientists who

had been vital in the development of lewisite to fight

a political battle of persuasion and self-preservation:

What we need now is good, sound publicity along

lines showing the importance of Chemical Warfare,

its powerful and far-reaching effects in war, and its

humanity when you compare the number of deaths

from bullets and high explosives for each hundredinjured by those means. (Russell 2001, 55)

In this extended campaign, Fries had many allies;

among the staunchest were the American Chemical

Society and its Journal of Industrial and Engineering

Chemistry. The journal published a series of articles in

the immediate postwar period on the great contribu-

tions of the Chemical Warfare Service. Readers were

encouraged to write to congressmen, senators and

strategic committee chairs to advocate for the continu-

ance of the CWS. The Chemical Society also lobbied

politicians and sent official resolutions from its meet-ings to responsible leaders. The pressure soon paid

off, as Secretary of War Newton Baker would acknowl-

edge in August 1919:

The Government of the United States, and particu-

larly the War Department, owes a debt of gratitude

and appreciation to the chemists of the United

States … I do not believe it will be discovered that

any profession contributed a larger percent of its

members directly to the military service, or the

results of the activities of any profession were more

essential to our national success than that of thechemists. (Russell 2001, 50)

A revision of the National Defense Act in 1920 made

the CWS a permanent separate service of the US Army,

although it was greatly reduced in size compared to

its wartime establishment of almost 25,000 officers

and troops. Later the same year, Amos Fries (see picture

on page 12) became the commanding general (Kleber

and Birdsell 2003, 24–25). Although the CWS had nar-

rowly avoided elimination as a separate entity within

the Army, the victory would be a pyrrhic one if larger

political movements to ban chemical weapons were

not averted. When the new Republican president, War-

ren G Harding, was elected in November 1920, the

vocal antiwar movement gained an influential domestic

advocate and considerable international momentum.

Despite the refusal of the Republican-dominated United

States Senate to ratify America’s entry into the new

League of Nations, America—as one of the new Great

Powers—was seeking to reduce “primarily offensive”

military forces and thus reduce the risk of future globalconflicts.

The Washington Arms Conference (November

1921–February 1922) was a precedent-setting event in

international relations, the first real international dis-

armament conference in history (Russell 2001, 56–62).

In addition to proposing to ban submarine warfare and

limit the size of battleships and naval fleets, there was

also a provision to ban the development, testing,

stockpiling and use of chemical weapons. While the

American State Department and some elements of the

US Army were eager proponents of the ban on chemical

weapons, General Fries and others in the CWS mobi-

lized their own forces in support of the necessity for

continuing research, development and maintaining a

stock of weapons and trained gas-warfare troops to

act as a deterrent to war—a sort of ancestor to mutu-

ally assured destruction (Russell 2001, 59).6

Fries and his cohort of chemical warriors lobbied

to preserve their profession, asserting that “the mis-

sion of every chemical warfare officer was to carry the

news of chemical warfare, to talk it at every opportu-

nity, and to clear away many of the false ideas about

it that exist in the minds of civilians as well as themilitary” (Russell 2001, 59). Targeting the civilian front,

6 A fascinating British analogue can be found in Callinicus: A Defence of Chemical Warfare, authored in 1925 by the renowned British bio-

chemist and WW I gas-warfare veteran J B S Haldane. One of the developers of the modern evolutionary synthesis, Haldane later lent his

political support to Stalin’s USSR and his professional credibility to its Marxist-Socialist sciences, especially Lysenkoism (Kohlman 2012).

Haldane echoes Fries in his appraisal of chemical warfare as a humane, modern, progressive alternative to the butchery of vast armies in

stalemated conflicts, and decries the “sentimentalist opponents” as “the Scribes and Pharisees of our age” (Haldane 1925, 32).




Fries published an article in Current History, amid the

furor of publicity over the Washington Conference.

Entitled “The Future of Poison Gas,” it argued for the

efficacy and necessity of chemical weapons both in

armed conflict and as an effective deterrent to future

wars:

The last war has been remarkable for the growthof understanding of the fundamental importance

of chemistry in peace and war … The war of the

future will involve every activity of a nation and of

every inhabitant of that nation. Every nation of

first-class importance has continued to pursue the

study of chemical warfare. Gas is the only weapon

used in war which can be counted upon to do its

work as efficiently at night as in the daytime.

Chemical warfare has come to stay, and in just the

proportion as the United States gives chemical

warfare its proper place within the military estab-

lishment, just in that proportion will [we] be ready

to meet any and all comers in the future. (Fries

1921, 421)

Fries then argued for the democratic levelling effect

of chemical weapons in modern war, and their ultimate

security promise for deterrence against large-scale

invasions over land or sea (see Figure 1). He also tapped

into the strong public sentiment for a return to pre-War

American isolationism and neutrality, backed by a

scientific guarantee against a future war:

War is like dueling. So long as it was a safe sportfor Kings, noblemen and statesmen … could carry

on wars for years without harm to themselves …

But today, with the development of chemical bombs

and airplanes, no statesman or ruler is any more

immune to attack than a private soldier. So it will

be with chemical bombs. They have not only made

the coasts of the United States impregnable, but

they have vastly decreased the possibilities of an-

other long war.

Every development of science that makes warfare

more universal and more scientific makes for per-

manent peace by making war intolerable … if we

are forced into a war we shall use every known

chemical method of warfare against hostile forces

wherever they are located. That would be our per-

manent guarantee against attack. (p 422)

In the same issue of the journal, in fact the very

next article, “Growth of the Chemical Industry,” Carter

(1921) lauds the “remarkable results of the World War

in creating a vast new business in the United States”

(p 423). He cites a 247 per cent increase in the aggre-

gate value of chemical products made in the USA from

1914 to 1919. He also details the enormous growth of

various chemical industry sectors, such as dyes, fertil-

izers (important for making high explosives) and life-saving drugs. Carter praised the progress in research

by academic and industrial chemists, coordinated for

maximum efficiency, and highlighted the building of

new lab facilities by major research universities. Sig-

nificantly for postwar scientific research, Carter also

welcomed the establishment of new philanthropic

foundations (such as the Chemical Foundation) and the

expansion of existing ones (Carnegie, Rockefeller and

others) for chemical research and development. He

also explicitly linked the growth of American chemistry

to the CWS and “our Army of Chemists”:

Although a few great corporations had signified

their appreciation of the importance of chemistry

by establishing laboratories for the control of pro-

cesses and for research to improve their products

before the war, the mobilization of two thousand

American chemists at the Government experimental

research station in Washington by the Chemical

Warfare Service when America entered the war may

be said to have marked the real beginning of our

chemical industry. (p 423)

Lest one be persuaded into thinking that this exu-

berance is simply the rosy afterglow of American chem-ists’ successful participation in the Allied victory, before

other events and crises intervened to sober American

enthusiasm, Bland (1977) offers this analysis of the

situation in a historical survey of the ascendancy of the

United States to global scientific supremacy:

Although the NRC and American scientists generally

accomplished little of immediate tactical value to

the war effort – the experience had two profound

influences on U.S. science: (1) it infused research

into the economy so thoroughly that the rise of

industrial research as a major branch of the coun-try’s scientific establishment may be dated from

the war period; (2) it accustomed scientists to

working together on cooperative, large-scale re-

search efforts aimed at the quick solution of im-

mediate problems. In science, as in many other

areas, valuable lessons were learned that would be

applied during the Second World War. (p 88)




From Dreaded Weapon toCommercial Product toExtermination of Enemies

As the 1920s progressed, both Fries and the chemical

industry continued their public campaign to persuadethe American public to accept chemical weapons and

warfare as a vital part of the modern age. One of the

most important and productive campaigns was the ap-

plication of research on poison gases to the problem of

Figure 1. The chemist-warrior as defender of the nation, two years before the start

of World War II (Ede 2004, 511).

pest control, especially to agricultural pesticides and

consumer insecticides. The CWS and a host of private

companies pursued the use of both existing “war gases”

and new formulations for use as insecticides and fumi-

gants (Russell 2001, 74–94). Russell devotes an entire

chapter, “Minutemen in Peace,” to this extended and

very lucrative program to link the previous use of chemi-cals for war to this new war against nature. It was, in

many ways, the forerunner of the rather ill-fated Project

Plowshare to promote the peaceful uses of atomic

weapons in the early Cold War period (Kohlman 2012).

Using many of the same argu-

ments and imagery that General

Fries had used to preserve the CWS

and establish the validity of chemi-

cal weapons, industrial chemists

and corporations offered a panthe-

on of existing and new poisons to

exterminate the peacetime threatsto American prosperity and public

health. One of the most popular was

the patented insecticide produced

by Standard Oil under the brand

name Flit (Russell 2001, 85–86). By

the mid-20s, “Flitguns” became the

most popular way of exterminating

insect pests, and sales boomed

when they hired Theodor Geisel

(later better known as Dr Seuss) for

their advertising copy (see Figure 2).

Not only was this commercialization

program healthy for the corporate

bottom line, but it gradually adapt-

ed the public to the ideology of a

scientific war and the use of syn-

thetic chemicals to exterminate all

manner of pests, including the two-

legged variety—both foreign ene-

mies and domestic criminals. By the

time the Second World War again

interrupted America’s Century of

Progress, the link between chemis-try, the military and the extermi-

nation of enemies had been made

(see Figure 3). The American govern-

ment and public had been effec-

tively converted to the new para-

digm of “Annihilation” (Russell 2001,

95–118).




Figure 2. A sampling of advertising for Flit, a popular interwar pesticideand sprayer system, made by Stanco, a division of J D Rockefeller’s Standard

Oil. Fans of his later animated cartoons or popular children’s books will

recognize the whimsical artistry of Theodor Geisel, aka Dr Seuss. Russell

(1996) has more propagandist images—including wartime ads for exter-

minating “human insects” using toxic gas.




ConclusionI have argued that the mobilization of American

chemists and engineers in World War I, in particular

the Chemical Warfare Service, served as a prototype

of Big Science, a template for the Military-Industrial

Complex and an important saltation toward Total

War. It also fixed in the public’s perception the im-portance of advanced science and technology in war,

in national security, and in societal progress and

prosperity. These same themes can be alternately

illustrated by two photo-plates from A C Morrison’s

Man in a Chemical World (1937), published by the

American Chemical Society. The book was part of an

ACS public relations campaign to boost government

funding of industrial chemistry research and educa-

tion during the lean years of the Great Depression

(see Figure 4, and also Figure 1). America’s trium-

phant recovery from the Depression was fuelled in

no small measure by the coming of the next World

War, even before the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,

as the United States reprised its role as the Arsenal

of Democracy. But when It was over, it was not to bethe research or industrial chemists that were to be

lionized, it was the atomic physicists and their army

of engineers that were hailed as the saviours of De-

mocracy, the Nation and the World. The newly dis-

covered annihilative power of the split atom had

trumped the potency of the mere molecule—in

spades. Physics ruled.

Figure 3. An elaborate American WWII bomber-nose painting, illustrating the popular connection between chemical weapons,

commercial pesticides and the ideology of extermination in Total War.




Figure 4: One of the progressive-futuristic drawings from Man in a Chemical World (1937), sponsored

by the American Chemical Society, here idealizing a “secular benediction” of society by the chemical

industry (Ede 2004, 505).




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75–92.

Brophy, L. 1959. The Chemical Warfare Service: Organizing for War.

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Chief of Military History.

Carter, C F. 1921. “Growth of the Chemical Industry.” Current

History 15, no 3: 423–29.

Christianson, S. 2010. Fata l Airs: The Deadly His tor y and

Apocalyptic Future of the Lethal Gases That Threaten Our World.

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Ede, A. 2004. “Creating an Image of Science: Persuasion and

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World.” Canadian Journal of History 39, no 3: 489–513.

Fries, A. 1921. “The Future of Poison Gas.” Current History 15,

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Haldane, J B S. 1925. Callinicus: A Defense of Chemical Warfare.

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———. 2013. “The Influence of Imperial German Science,Education and Research on America and Britain, 1871–1941.”

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460–80.

Tucker, J B. 2006. War of Nerves: Chemical Warfare from World

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Indiana University Press.

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the Ideals of American Chemists.” Social Studies of Science 5,

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Problems.” Science 43, no 1120: 835–42.




Fostering Student Metacognition andPersonal Epistemology in the Physics

Classroom Through the Pedagogical use ofMnemonic Strategies

Michael Paul Lukie

Abstract

Students can use memorized mnemonic strategiestaught to them by their physics teachers as a way to

help them remember complicated formulas. However,

many students might not develop a deep conceptual

understanding of physics as a result of the use of such

strategies. This theoretical paper proposes that physics

teachers can use the teaching and understanding of

mnemonic strategies, as one form of cognitive strategy,

to foster students’ metacognition and their personal

epistemology by focusing their attention on what it

“means” to understand and to solve physics problems.

Research suggests that most physics students adopt a

“surface” approach to learning in terms of doing exer-

cises and learning formulas (Prosser, Walker and Millar

1996) and that “they do not understand the requisite

procedures required to learn and understand that

material” (Thomas 2012b, 33). The mnemonic device

would be presented as such a requisite procedure,

providing the physics teacher with an opportunity to

teach students about their metacognitive knowledge,

control and awareness (Flavel 1979) about when, why

and how to use the mnemonic device. To further such

an understanding of the nature of physics and physics

problem solving, it is important that students developtheir personal epistemology, or what Hofer (2001)

defines as “knowing about knowing” (p 363). This is

because epistemological understanding is fundamental

to students’ understanding and critical thinking devel-

opment. It is proposed that teachers can use mnemonic

devices to develop their students’ epistemological

sophistication by elucidating and promoting the

epistemological assumptions that underlie their critical

thinking. If the teachers promote a strictly objective

absolutism by providing the student with a mnemonicdevice to memorize and apply narrowly, then knowl-

edge is seen by students as simply accumulating from

textbook-like facts and is disconnected from the human

mind. However, if teachers promote a constructivist

epistemology such that students, after initial exposure

to mnemonic devices, are encouraged to develop their

own mnemonic device(s), then knowledge may be seen

by students as a “theory of mind that recognises the

primacy of humans as knowledge constructors capable

of generating a multiplicity of valid representations of

reality” (Kuhn 1999, 22). Since many physics students

also concurrently study mathematics, the transfer and

durability of the mnemonic device is important for

other domains and metacognition is seen as a “poten-

tial mediator of improvement” (Georghiades 2000, 119)

for this transfer. As a result of students developing

mnemonic devices, they will develop their metacogni-

tive skills, personal epistemological sophistication and

the “knowledge about when and why to select and

apply strategies that are most appropriate for a prob-

lem” (Taasoobshirazi and Farley 2013, 448).

IntroductionThis theoretical paper proposes that physics teach-

ers might use the teaching and understanding of

mnemonic strategies, as one form of cognitive strategy,

to foster students’ metacognition and their personal

epistemology by focusing their attention on what it

“means” to understand and to solve physics problems.




Since “students who are more adaptively metacognitive

are typically more successful learners than those who

are less adaptively metacognitive” (Thomas 2013, 4),

it is important for physics teachers to promote meta-

cognition as part of their pedagogical practice. Further,

students are typically unaware that there are different

ways of knowing; many students fall into an objectivist

epistemology, where knowledge is considered by them

to be contained in textbooks and “independent of a

thinking being” (Lorsbach and Tobin 1992, 1). Objectiv-

ism, according to Roth and Roychoudhury (1994) is the

“default epistemology” (p 26) predominant in most

schools; Lorsbach and Tobin (1992) agree, writing that

the objectivist epistemology is “dominant in most edu-

cational settings today” (p 1). Many physics students

are accustomed to learning the truths found in text-

books, and science teaching has traditionally focused

on the direct transmission of these science truths (Roth

and Roychoudhury 1994).Many physics teachers provide students with mne-

monic strategies as a way to help them remember

complicated formulas, but students might not develop

a deep conceptual understanding of physics as a result

of the use of such strategies. However, if teachers

promote a constructivist epistemology such that the

students, after initial exposure to mnemonic devices,

are encouraged to develop their own mnemonic

device(s), then students may replace the “notion of

truth” with the “notion of viability,” since there are

many alternative constructions of reality that may exist,

“none of which can ever claim truth for itself.” Roth

and Roychoudhury contend that the “constructivist

position is a more mature form of knowing” and that

many educators “have accepted constructivism as a

more appropriate set of beliefs to direct teaching and

learning” (Roth and Roychoudhury 1994, 7).

I have been teaching high school physics at the

University of Winnipeg since 2003 but have only re-

cently begun to incorporate metacognition and stu-

dent epistemology into my regular teaching practice.

I have begun teaching students about metacognition

and their personal epistemology when I have beenteaching mnemonic strategies within the physics ki-

nematics unit, and have found that my students report

a greater understanding about their thinking and the

way they know how they know. This paper is being

written for physics teachers who teach mnemonic

strategies to their students; the suggestion is made

that the teaching of mnemonic strategies may be an

opportunity to also teach students about metacogni-

tion and epistemology. A brief review of the literature

related to metacognition and epistemology is pre-

sented. I then examine the mnemonic device, the

extent to which the literature reports how students

use these devices as cognitive strategies to assist their

learning and how metacognition may assist students

in retaining these strategies for longer periods of time.

Finally, I present how a physics teacher may use the

mnemonic device in a classroom setting to facilitate

the instruction of metacognition and student personal

epistemology.

Mnemonic DevicesThe evidence for the effectiveness of mnemonic

devices to support metacognitive skills is supported

in the literature. Thomas writes that “an effective sci-

ence learner will possess cognitive strategies formemorizing science material that they consider to be

important” and that “these strategies may include the

use of acronyms and mnemonics” (Thomas 2012b, 32).

Kolencik and Hillwig (2011) write that mnemonic de-

vices may be used to assist students in remembering

content information that would be otherwise difficult

for students to recall because the mnemonic helps

students to connect, to construct and to relate their

thinking to the content. Further, Kolencik and Hillwig

(2011) add that “the key idea is that by coding informa-

tion using vivid mental images, students can reliably

code both information and the structure of informa-

tion, thus, using a type of metacognitive process”

(p 58). Levin and Levin (1990) suggest that when mne-

monic devices are used to help acquire information,

the information is more easily applied when mnemonic

devices are employed. In addition, Wolfe (2001) ex-

plains that the mnemonic device assists the learner by

helping to link information stored in long-term memory

with new information the brain is receiving. Students

who have created their own mnemonic devices have

outperformed comparison students, as reported by

Mastropieri and Scruggs (1998), and Markowitz and Jensen (1999) indicate that the use of mnemonic de-

vices may increase student learning by two to three

times. Research into how teachers should use mnemon-

ics in the classroom indicates that “the important thing

to remember is to explain to the students why the

mnemonic device is being used and why it will work”

(Kolencik and Hillwig 2011, 63).




What Is Metacognition?Metacognition is the thinking about one’s thinking;

it may be defined as one’s knowledge, control and

awareness of one’s thinking and learning (Thomas

2012a). It is the process of making thinking the object

of one’s consideration and manipulation so that the

thinker may potentially control his or her cognition.

Cognition refers to thinking skills, processes and strate-

gies, while metacognition refers to the metacognitive

knowledge, metacognitive control and metacognitive

awareness of these cognitive skills, processes and

strategies (Flavel 1979; Thomas 2013). Metacognitive

knowledge is knowledge about the thinking and learning

processes; this knowledge can be either declarative,

procedural or conditional. For a given cognitive skill,

process or strategy, declarative knowledge refers to

knowing that a given cognitive strategy may potentially

be used to solve a certain type of problem. Proceduralknowledge is knowledge about how to use the strategy

to solve the problem. Conditional knowledge refers to

what class of problem the strategy is applicable to.

Metacognitive awareness is the self-awareness the

thinker possesses in using a cognitive skill, process or

strategy, and metacognitive control is the control and

regulation of the learning process. Finally, as a result

of the thinker making cognition the object of consid-

eration, the thinker may have a metacognitive experience

(Flavel 1979).

Metacognition and Instruction A mnemonic device is a thinking skill, process or

strategy used to assist students with information reten-

tion, where the mnemonic device facilitates the transla-

tion of complicated information into a form that may

be more easily retained by the student. The mnemonic

device becomes metacognitive when the student is

able to differentiate between the declarative, proce-

dural and conditional metacognitive knowledge neces-

sary to help solve a physics problem—that is, about

when, why and how to apply the mnemonic device.The student demonstrates declarative metacognitive

knowledge when he or she recognizes that the mne-

monic can be used to solve a certain type of problem;

the student demonstrates procedural metacognitive

knowledge when he or she is able to understand the

mechanics of how the mnemonic is used to help solve

a problem; and the student demonstrates conditional

metacognitive knowledge when he or she can demon-

strate the class of problem to which the mnemonic

applies. As a result of students designing their own

mnemonic device to help them remember formulas

and help them solve kinematics problems, for example,

it is envisaged that students’ metacognitve awareness

of their thinking will increase. Upon students reflecting

about the thinking processes they attended to in de-

signing their mnemonic device, many students should

report a metacognitive experience resulting from hav-

ing been stimulated by their teacher to think about

mnemonics in a way they had not done previously.

Since many physics students also concurrently study

mathematics, the transfer and durability of mnemonic

devices is important, and metacognition is seen as a

“potential mediator of improvement” (Georghiades

2000, 119) for this transfer. Georghiades asserts that

metacognition makes students more actively involved

in the learning process, makes them more responsiblefor their learning and has a positive impact on students’

abilities to both retain and transfer conceptions over

a longer duration. According to Georghiades, meta-

cognition allows students to maintain a deeper under-

standing of the subject material because the learning

process is revisited, students are encouraged to be

reflective, students compare their prior and current

conceptions and students analyze and have an aware-

ness of their difficulties. Although it is important for

physics teachers to provide metacognition instruction

to their students, Georghiades does caution that the

metacognitive feedback provided by the teacher to the

students should be appropriate, compatible and

accessible.

Student Physics LearningThe research into student physics learning indicates

that the mathematical representation of physics con-

cepts was a real barrier to student understanding and

that many students had difficulty in using models and

relationships (Albe, Venturini and Lascours 2001).

Sağlam and Millar (2006) agree that the introductionof formulas and other mathematical notations may

impede rather than promote the understanding of basic

physics principles. Students are often overwhelmed by

a large number of physics equations and they cannot

conceptually understand the relationships between the

variables, but they are able to algebraically manipulate

them. To mitigate these student problems, Willms,




Friesen and Milton (2009) suggest that effective teach-

ing should include learning tasks that are thoughtfully

designed and that require and instill deep thinking

while immersing the student in disciplinary inquiry.

Thomas (2012b) suggests that current best practices

in science teaching should enhance students’ concep-

tual understanding of scientific concepts through

teaching approaches that promote scientific knowl-

edge as a process of inquiry rather than with students

as passive learners. The suggestion is made that meta-

cognition is one of these best practices and “to improve

students’ science learning, there is a need to develop

and enhance their adaptive metacognition so that they

can learn science more effectively, efficiently, and with

increased understanding across science learning con-

texts” (Thomas 2012b, 30). In addition, Thomas also

suggests that the science learning environment should

be more metacognitively orientated. Prosser, Walker

and Millar (1996) reported that “students exhibit asurface learning to physics, as a result of a predomi-

nantly textbook based and lecture style of teaching”

(p 47), since students do not make connections be-

tween ideas and representations, and instead focus on

memorization with little permanence for what has been

learned. The use of mnemonic devices for helping

students solve physics problems should therefore

provide students with an alternative to simply memo-

rizing equations and should help provide students with

a more logical conceptual solution framework.

EpistemologyEpistemology is a theory of knowledge that explains

how we know what we know. When thought becomes

aware of itself and under the individual’s control, the

thinker is put in charge of his or her knowing. When

the thinker is put in charge of his or her knowing, the

thinker is then able to decide what to believe and is

able to update and revise those beliefs as warranted

(Kuhn 1999). It is very important for students to know

what they know and to be able to justify why, because

the students’ skill in the “conscious coordination oftheory and evidence also put them in a position to

evaluate the assertions of others” (Kuhn 1999, 23),

their teachers and societal influences. According to

Kuhn, the development of students’ epistemological

understanding is a fundamental component of their

critical thinking because students must first recognize

the point of thinking before they engage in thinking.

Different Levels of StudentEpistemologies

There are a number of epistemological levels that

are typical in students. The complexity of the levels

may progress from simple realism to more advanced

constructivism, but a student may retain a given levelthrough time. Students who possess a realist epistemol-

ogy believe that assertions are direct copies of some

given external reality and this reality is directly know-

able. The absolutist understands assertions as facts,

either true or false, and they represent a reality that

can be directly knowable. The multiplist believes that

assertions are freely chosen opinions accountable only

to the holder of the opinion, and therefore reality can-

not be directly knowable. The evaluative epistemology

believes that assertions are judgments that can be

evaluated by criteria evaluating argument and evi-

dence, suggesting that reality is not directly knowable.

The objectivist epistemology contends that external

reality can be objectively known and that objective and

unconditional truth statements can be made about this

reality. The conceptualization of science in this way is,

then, a search for truths, and science is considered as

a way of discovering the laws, principles and theories

associated with reality (Lorsbach and Tobin 1992). Fi-

nally, the constructivist epistemology is a “theory of

mind that recognises the primacy of humans as knowl-

edge constructors capable of generating a multiplicity

of valid representations of reality” (Kuhn 1999, 22) where science is seen as the process that assists us in

making sense of the world.

Epistemological UnderstandingEpistemological understanding is fundamental to

a student’s understanding and critical thinking devel-

opment. Therefore, the teacher has the responsibility

to develop within his or her students a sophisticated

epistemology that promotes such critical thinking. If

the teacher promotes a strictly objective absolutism,then knowledge is seen by students as simply accumu-

lating from textbook-like facts and is disconnected

from the human mind. If the teacher promotes a strictly

subjective multiplism, students will conceive knowl-

edge as subject only to the tastes of the knower where

no truth is ever knowable (Kuhn 1999). What is required

is a pedagogy in which teachers promote, especially




in physics and science, a form of constructivism where

students are allowed to construct their knowledge to

advance their epistemology allowing for multiple rep-

resentations of reality. Students should be given the

opportunity to try to understand their conception of

reality based upon experience so that their conception

of reality may progress into a more sophisticated epis-

temology in which theories and laws arise out of the

students’ attempt to purposefully achieve this under-

standing (Roth and Roychoudhury 1994).

The DAFIT Kinematics AcronymI became interested in investigating the application

of metacognition and student epistemology to the

study of mnemonic devices because I was never satis-

fied with the level of my students’ understanding with

the DAFIT kinematics acronym I had given to them.

There are many different mnemonic or memory devices

used to assist students when solving physics problems,

and the acronym is a commonly used mnemonic where

a word is formed from the initial letters of words in a

series of words. Students are able to apply the acronym

to successfully solve kinematics problems, but they

may not exhibit a deep level of conceptual understand-

ing when doing so. Since there are five physics formulas

required to solve kinematics problems, students often

find it difficult to determine which formula to select

for a given set of parameters; the DAFIT acronym fa-

cilitates the ease of this selection process. The DAFITmethod for solving kinematics problems involves

memorizing a single kinematic formula for each of the

five letters D, A, F , I and T and memorizing the word

DAFIT . The letters represent the variables for displace-

ment, acceleration, final velocity, initial velocity and

time, and they correspond to one of five specific phys-

ics formulas (see Table 1). The way the DAFIT method

is used is that for a given kinematics problem, if the

student does not have information about a certain

variable, the student selects the corresponding formula

for that variable associated with the corresponding

letter in the acronym. If, for example, the problem

provides no information about displacement, the for-

mula v f = v

i+at is selected because it is the formula that

corresponds to the letter D, the displacement.

When the DAFIT acronym becomes metacognitive

for the student, the student has control and awareness

of the acronym cognitive strategy and is able to diffe-

rentiate between the declarative, procedural and

conditional metacognitive knowledge necessary to help

solve a physics problem—that is, about when, why and

how to apply the acronym (see Figure 1, page 30).

Fostering StudentMetacognition and PersonalEpistemology in the PhysicsClassroom

To foster student metacognition and epistemology

in the physics classroom, a lesson may include the fol-

lowing series of steps.

Fostering Student Epistemology1. To initiate a discussion about epistemology the

teacher may begin by asking students the question,

How do you know what you know about physics?

Some students may report that they know physics

based upon what they have learned from what their

Table 1. The DAFIT Acronym for Kinematics Formulas

Acronym Letter Variable Variable Name [units] Formula

D d displacement [m] vf= v

i+at

A a acceleration [ m s2 ] ∆d =½(v

i+v

f ) t

F v f final velocity [

m s

] ∆d = vit+at2

I v i initial velocity [

m s

] ∆d = vf t-at2

T t time [s] vf

2= vi

2+2a∆d

∆d=vi∆t+1/2a∆t2

∆d=vf ∆t-1/2a∆t2

vf =vi+a∆t

∆d=1/2(vi+vf )∆t




teacher has told them or from memorizing textbook

facts, an objectivist epistemology. Other studentsmay explain that they know physics from experi-

ments or from experiencing how nature works

through their senses, a constructivist epistemology.

When I have asked this question, however, many

students claim that they know physics from what

their teacher tells them and through the memoriza-

tion of textbook facts.

2. The teacher could then explain that there are many

different ways of knowing but that using experi-

ments and the senses is a more sophisticated way

of knowing physics. In promoting a constructivist

epistemology, then, it is important that studentsare not given mnemonic devices to memorize, but

rather that they create them for themselves.

Fostering StudentMetacognition1. To initiate a discussion about metacognition the

teacher may begin by asking students the following

questions. Have you ever thought about how you

think? What are some of the thinking strategies

you use in school to help you think?2. The teacher could then describe the acronym as

one way to organize thinking, explaining that there

are many different thinking strategies. The meta-

cognition instruction will consist of the teacher

describing how to use the acronym as a cognitive

strategy and will seek to develop students’ knowl-

edge, control and awareness about how to organize

their thinking when using it. The teacher will in-

struct students on the use of the acronym, indicat-ing that it can be used to organize information in

physics just as has already been done in their

mathematics classes.

3. The teacher will now describe two acronyms from

mathematics with which students are already famil-

iar, and will provide a description of how acronyms

work in these contexts. The FOIL (first, outer, inner,

last) acronym for multiplying out brackets will be

analyzed first, and then the trigonometric acronym

SOH, CAH, TOA, for remembering the formulas for

right-angle triangles. The teacher will explain that

the five formulas involved in solving kinematics

problems are difficult to remember and that, just

as in mathematics, an acronym may be used to help

remember the five kinematics formulas. In addition,

the teacher will suggest to students that a good

acronym for kinematics is one that will also help

them decide which of the five formulas to pick when

solving problems. Emphasis will be made that the

kinematics acronym should operate similarly to the

way the SOH, CAH, TOA acronym operates in math-

ematics because it assists in both remembering the

formulas and selecting the correct formula. 4. The teacher will now challenge students to create

their own DAFIT acronym. Students will be made

aware that the acronym is simply a tool to help

their thinking and that additional thinking pro-

cesses are involved when they determine when,

why and how to apply the acronym to solve physics

problems.

Figure 1: The metacognitive application of the DAFIT cognitive strategy

Awareness

• Self-monitoring

• Regulation of

the acronym

• Is the DAFIT

acronym

working?

Control

The awareness

that one can

control one’s

thinking when

using the DAFIT

acronym

METACOGNITION

COGNITION

DAFIT

acronym

COGNITION

DAFITacronym

Knowledge

Declarative

The DAFIT acronym can be used to

solve kinematics problems

Procedural

What are the procedures necessary

to use the DAFIT acronym?

Conditional

When and why the DAFIT acronym

may be appropriate to use




5. Finally, once the students have solved some kine-

matics problems with their own acronyms, the

teacher will reveal the DAFIT method; similarities

and differences can then be discussed.

ConclusionThis paper suggests that mnemonic devices such

as acronyms may be used as a pedagogical opportunity

to teach students about metacognition and their per-

sonal epistemology. As a result of students developing

mnemonic devices, they will develop their metacogni-

tive skills and personal epistemological sophistication,

and students will be given the requisite metacognitive

tools to facilitate their deeper conceptual understand-

ing when solving problems. When students reflect on

the thinking processes they attended to in designing

acronyms, many should report a metacognitive experi-

ence resulting from having been stimulated by theirteacher to think about acronyms in a way they had not

done previously. By challenging students to think about

how they know what they know about physics, student

critical thinking may be promoted as students attend

to a more sophisticated constructivist epistemology

rather than the objectivist epistemology many students

currently exhibit.

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Curriculum Development.




Three-Eyed Seeing? ConsideringIndigenous Ecological Knowledge in

Culturally Complex Pedagogical SettingsGreg Lowan-Trudeau

BackgroundCanada is a culturally complex country composed

of Indigenous peoples and settler populations from

Europe and, increasingly, other parts of the world. Ingeneral, but with some important exceptions, the first

waves of Canadian colonizers and settlers were from

Europe, bringing with them predominantly Western

perspectives on science, ecology and land use (Saul

2008). For the first few centuries of postcontact

Canadian history, these Western perspectives inter-

acted and often clashed with Indigenous understand-

ings of the natural world, which were based on thou-

sands of years of geographically rooted experience

(Cajete 1994). More recently, immigration from other

parts of the world has increased (Malenfant, Lebel and

Martel 2010). People arriving from non-European

cultures might have an understanding of Western sci-

ence and philosophy, but they also often carry rich

ecological understandings linked to their home na-

tions. Statistics Canada projects that immigration from

non-European countries will continue at a high rate

over the next several decades (Malenfant, Lebel and

Martel 2010).

Simultaneously, Indigenous history, perspectives

and contemporary issues are increasingly emphasized

in many provinces and territories as priority areas in

education for all students. For example, as Elliot (2011)notes, the inclusion and consideration of Indigenous

perspectives is now part of Alberta science curricula.

Such trends have created and revealed rich and wonder-

ful pedagogical complexity for Canadian educators and

students alike. As a Métis science and environmental

educator born and raised in a relatively diverse urban

centre, I am particularly interested in the relationships

between different culturally based ecological knowl-

edge systems.

Hence, this article reports on a recent pilot study

conducted in response to calls from participants in a

past study (Lowan-Trudeau 2012, 2014) for furtherexploration of the complex experiences of newcomers

to Canada with learning about Indigenous ecological

knowledge in predominantly Western educational

contexts. In the first study, I interviewed Indigenous

and non-Indigenous Canadian science and environmen-

tal educators who were working to find common

ground between Western and Indigenous knowledge

and philosophies of nature. One of the challenges

identified by several participants was the difficulty of

reconciling two or more cultural viewpoints in the

complex settings common to many Canadian communi-

ties today. For example, many participants emphasized

the challenge of considering the cultures and experi-

ences of students who have recently arrived in Canada,

while at the same time honouring local Indigenous

knowledge and wisdom and continuing to engage with

Western science perspectives. Several participants

suggested that it would be valuable to explore the

experiences of students new to Canada in order to

better understand their perspectives.

While there is extensive literature available pertain-

ing to multicultural science and environmental educa-

tion (eg, Agyeman 2003; Blanchet-Cohen and Reilly2013; Roth 2008) and a growing body of work on In-

digenous science and environmental education (eg,

Aikenhead and Michell 2011; Lowan-Trudeau 2012,

2014; Cajete 1994; Elliot 2011; Hogue 2012; Snively

and Corsiglia 2000; Swayze 2009), research that exam-

ines the complex interaction of these two areas is

limited. Terms such as two- or multiple-eyed seeing




(Hatcher, Bartlett, Marshall and Marshall 2009; Institute

for Integrative Science and Health 2012) have been

introduced to describe these complex contexts, but

they have not yet been explored in great detail together

in the Canadian context.

Toward Three-Eyed Seeing? The concept of two-eyed seeing is now well estab-

lished in science education circles. Developed by a team

of Mi’kmaq elders and science education researchers

at Cape Breton University, two-eyed seeing involves

viewing the world simultaneously through one Western

and one Indigenous eye to form a balanced and unified

whole (Hatcher, Bartlett, Marshall and Marshall 2009).

This concept has proved very useful and is adaptable

to a variety of cultural and geographical contexts engag-

ing Western and Indigenous ecological knowledge.

The developers of two-eyed seeing allude to the

possibility of other culturally rooted perspectives being

considered in addition to Western and Indigenous

knowledge (Institute for Integrative Science and Health

2012); however, no empirical research to date has

explored the potential of three-, four- or five-eyed see-

ing in earnest.

The purpose of this study was to explore the formal

and informal educational experiences of first-genera-

tion immigrants to Canada with Indigenous ecological

knowledge and philosophy. Specifically, I was guided

by the following questions:

• How do newcomers to Canada perceive Indigenousecological knowledge and philosophy?

• How might formal and informal science and envi-

ronmental educators better respond to such cultur-

ally complex educational contexts?

• What are the broader societal implications of these

kinds of questions?

Methodological MétissageThis study was further informed by methodological

métissage (Lowan-Trudeau 2012), a calculated mix ofinterpretive, narrative and Indigenous research ap-

proaches. Three pilot interviews employing a semi-

structured format were conducted with first-generation

adults who had experienced schooling in Canada.

Sample size was intentionally kept very small in order

to allow for in-depth consideration, interpretation and

presentation of participants’ narratives.

Participants and Recruitment Despite broad circulation of a call for participants

to appropriate community and professional networks,

I did encounter initial difficulty with recruitment. Dur-

ing reflection and discussion with participants and

colleagues, it was proposed that this may have been

due to the relative paucity of adult individuals new toCanada who have also had the opportunity to engage

with Indigenous ecological knowledge in meaningful

formal or informal educational contexts. In fact, this

foreshadowed one of the key findings of this study,

explained in further detail below.

Another surprising methodological development

was that, despite the recent increase of immigration

from non-European countries (Malenfant, Lebel and

Martel 2010), there were, of course, individuals from

European nations who were interested in participating

in this study. This was an important reminder. As pre-

sented below, this resulted in a participant group that

arguably mirrors historical Canadian immigration trends.

In order to provide further insight into the partici-

pants and their perspectives, brief biographies, in

chronological interview order, are presented below.

• Kathy was born in Oxford, England. Early in child-

hood, her family left England by ocean liner for

Canada, eventually, in 1967, settling in Ottawa,

where she still lives today. Kathy noted that, as a

British immigrant, she found it fairly easy to transi-

tion into life and school in Canada. In her current

position, she manages an Aboriginal youth rolementorship program that brings Aboriginal role

models into communities to facilitate sport, leader-

ship, health and development initiatives.

• Sophia (pseudonym) is currently a postdoctoral

researcher in the natural sciences. She was born in

central Europe and, similar to Kathy, came to

Canada by ocean liner in early childhood. Sophia’s

family initially settled in Ottawa, but soon relocated

to a small lakeside community in central Ontario.

Sophia revealed that, overall, she had a comfortable

childhood in a predominantly Anglo-Canadian com-munity; however, she did experience some preju-

dice and feelings of exclusion related to her family’s

central European cultural and linguistic roots.

• Takwana is currently a graduate student in Ontario,

studying Indigenous knowledge in schools. She

came with her family from Zimbabwe to Toronto in

her mid-teens, a difficult time for such a transition.




Despite experiencing significant prejudice and

culture shock, Takwana successfully completed high

school and undergraduate studies in southern On-

tario. She was also employed for several summers

as a literacy and community development worker

in several Aboriginal communities across northern

Ontario. This experience led Takwana to relocate

to a university in northern Ontario to complete her

graduate studies.

InterpretationInterviews were transcribed, restoried (Creswell

2002) and individually and collectively coded for

themes (Lichtman 2012). Each interview was also

examined for epiphanic (Denzin 1989), illuminating

or “aha!” moments in which participants and/or

the researcher experienced exceptional clarity or

understanding.

In the spirit of reciprocity common to Indigenousresearch methodologies (Kovach 2010), three in-depth

and individually intact narrative portraits (Lawrence-

Lightfoot 2005) were subsequently produced and

presented to each participant.

In recognition of individual and community ac-

countability (Kovach 2010), I am still in regular contact

with the participants and seek their approval and in-

sight regarding any publicly presented or published

materials.

Key FindingsThese three conversations produced an incredible

depth and diversity of insights, experiences and per-

spectives that are difficult to capture in a single journal

article. However, as the researcher, I recognize that it

is my responsibility to share my own impressions and

insights along with those of the participants in the

hope that others will find resonance and connection

with their own experiences and inquiries (Kovach

2010). This is a pilot study, and therefore just the be-

ginning of a much deeper line of inquiry.

Notable findings from this study include the com-mon lack of meaningful exposure to Indigenous knowl-

edge and philosophy of any kind through formal

schooling, the importance of critical and experiential

approaches, and the potential for reimagining cultural

complexity as a strength rather than deficit for col-

laboratively addressing contemporary socioecological

issues through formal and informal education.

Limited Exposure to IndigenousKnowledge

All three participants emphatically stated that they

had very little exposure to Indigenous ecological

knowledge and philosophy in their formal K–12 educa-

tion in Canada. However, Takwana reflected upon her

earlier experiences with school in Zimbabwe where

English and Shona (a local indigenous culture) language

and cultures were naturally integrated into school cur-

ricula and the day-to-day functioning of the school and

community. For example, she shared memories remi-

niscent of two-eyed seeing (Hatcher, Bartlett, Marshall

and Marshall 2009) when she noted that

In elementary school [in Zimbabwe], we [had] a

garden … and sometimes we’d do class projects

where we’d be growing things … We learned Eng-

lish and Shona … and … we would read Shake-

speare, and Nigerian authors like Chinua Achebe...I also remember … when we were learning animals,

the class would be learning [about local] Shona [and

European] animals … It wasn’t that people were

trying, that’s just how life was … Having a grand-

mother come in and tell stories to the class first

thing in the morning … that was just something

that was done.

Due to her early years surrounded by Shona culture

and language, Takwana reflected a three-eyed seeing

perspective when she suggested that “it might be

easier for me to accept” traditional ecological knowl-edge in Canada. However, perhaps not surprisingly,

upon arriving in Canada, Takwana did not experience

such a two-eyed seeing approach at all. She expressed

frustration with this and talked about searching well

into her undergraduate and early graduate studies for

mentors and opportunities to express, explore and

relate her own Shona culture to Indigenous peoples in

Canada.

Toward Sociocritical Experiential

ApproachesTakwana’s emphasis on experiential, community-

based pedagogies in Zimbabwe aligns well with Indig-

enous perspectives here in Canada (Elliot 2011; Lowan

2009; Lowan-Trudeau 2014; Simpson 2002). All three

participants spoke of formative opportunities to spend

extended time in Indigenous communities in Canada

for work or postsecondary study.




For example, both Takwana and Kathy discussed

their overwhelming positive experiences working and

spending time on the land and in several Indigenous

communities for extended periods of time. Sophia

shared similar sentiments when she reflected upon her

experiences as a student researcher in the Canadian

North:

I went up north for my first field season and I had

a really, really profound time … I stayed on an island

with two families. I was the only white person …

it was my first chance to really … spend time with

Indigenous people … It was really amazing to be

… immersed in this different culture … My eyes

were just wide open and I was quite quiet and really

just observing everything.

All three participants also agreed that it was cru-

cially important for non-Indigenous learners of all ages

engaging with Indigenous knowledge and peoples to

have strong mentors who are able to facilitate respect-

ful and critical intercultural exchange and dialogue.

Identity TransformationThe participants also spoke about how these experi-

ences transformed their own identities. For example,

Kathy revealed that she now sometimes finds it hard

to relate to her British relatives’ perceptions of Indig-

enous peoples in Canada. Sophia also described shifts

in her identity as she moved from respecting, but not

fully accepting, Indigenous knowledge during her

undergraduate studies, to over-adopting Inuit perspec-tives after her initial experiences in the North, to finally

finding a point of balance where Western and Indige-

nous knowledge and philosophies comfortably coexist.

Sophia reflected

Learning to respect these different ways of knowing

is really important and … quite powerful. I can’t

speak for Inuit … I can only try and understand

what’s been explained and what I’ve read ... It can

be really awkward because then I’ve interpreted

what I’ve been told and … I’m trying to somehow

not play the devil’s advocate, but … be sensitive todifferent ways of knowing. I get kind of lost in all of

that and … that’s part of … my identity. It makes

me kind of a messy person! Trying to navigate who

I am and where I come from and what I know from

a very scientific perspective, but then [I’m also] really

informed by everything that I hear and learn …

Every time I go up north … things make more sense.

Takwana also described an epiphanic (Denzin 1989)

or aha! moment when she realized that her work as a

literacy and learning instructor in northern Indigenous

communities was perpetuating colonial processes similar

to those effected upon her own people in Zimbabwe:

I realized that it is … a handout type of develop-

ment, it’s not really from within. So I stopped doingthose things … It stopped being about Zimbabwean

experiences and Canadian experiences. It’s the

same. When I try to reconcile everything, I look at

the experiences in my country where I know how

to grow [and cultivate] crops … because we learned

those things in geography [and at home] … Every-

body knows those things, everybody farms. And so,

I know how to take care of the land, but it’s very

political too because now we are forced to plant all of

these … genetically modified crops that come in as

aid and that don’t do well over time. We don’t know

how to farm those things and then when [we] reject

[then it creates major international tension] …

You’re trying to be self-determining and our politi-

cians who reject this harmful “aid” are framed as

monsters depriving their people of food—when you’re

just trying to feed yourself in a sustainable way.

Takwana’s comments are reminiscent of Maori

scholar Graham Smith’s (1997) discussions of internally

driven socioeconomic development as a key principle

of Kaupapa Maori, an influential Indigenous-centred

pedagogical and community development theory.

Takwana’s insights also allude to one of the primarysocietal implications of this study that is discussed be-

low, the consideration of “wicked problems” that re-

quire interdisciplinary and intercultural collaboration.

Educational ImplicationsI believe that the primary implication of this pilot

study for educators is to reimagine cultural and peda-

gogical complexity as a possibility and strength, rather

than a challenge or deficit. While some science educa-

tors may remain reluctant to foster sociocritical andinterdisciplinary dialogue (Steele 2011; Chambers

2011) or perhaps feel that they do not have the cur-

ricular or logistical space to do so, there is increasing

curricular and administrative support for such ap-

proaches (Elliot 2011). Indeed, in other provinces such

as Ontario, interdisciplinary high school programs that

bring together the arts, humanities and sciences have




flourished (Henderson 2011). However, as Elliot notes,

educators teaching discrete courses can still do much

to foster effective learning through experiential,

community-connected, and sociocritical discussions

and experiences.

As all of the participants in this study emphasized,

facilitating sociocritical discussions and real-life experi-

ences is a key element for successfully introducing

students of all backgrounds to Indigenous knowledge

and traditions in Western science settings (Lowan-

Trudeau 2014; Simpson 2002; Elliot 2011). As Takwana

indicated, learners new to Canada and their peers will

benefit even more when provided with the opportunity

to reflect upon and contribute their own culturally

based understandings to critical discussions of West-

ern, Indigenous and other knowledge systems. In this

manner, we may well move from collectively using only

one or two eyes, to a dynamic three- or multiple-eyed

seeing model.

Societal ImplicationsSeveral societal implications of this study warrant

consideration. The primary implication involves the

exploration of contemporary “wicked problems”—so-

cioecological challenges, such as climate change, that

defy unidisciplinary solutions (Vink, Dewulf and Ter-

meer 2013). Using three-eyed seeing as a model for

the consideration of wicked problems holds great

promise because it allows for the contributions of

multiple stakeholders drawing on Western and Indig-

enous understandings from around the globe.

As Kassam (2014) has noted, such an approach can

also facilitate inter-Indigenous exchange wherein Indig-

enous peoples from similar geographical and ecological

areas share insights and experiences with each other.

Another broad implication of this study is the im-

portance of building strong intercultural alliances that

acknowledge and incorporate multiple cultural per-

spectives in authentic ways. All of the participants

supported such an approach in order to honour the

individual and contextual perspectives of both Indig-enous peoples and newcomers to Canada in the spirit

of living well together on this land (Haluza-Delay,

DeMoor and Peet 2013). As Kathy suggested,

We are extremely fortunate to be living in a country

with such resources … [So] how do we take care

of that, how do we nurture that … so that we’ve

left something for the next generation?

Future PossibilitiesFindings from this study will guide the development

of future research (Steele 2011) with community- and

school-based science and environmental education

programs that emphasize and integrate Indigenous

ecological knowledge and philosophy in culturally

diverse contexts. Further inquiry into the experiences

of youth and adult learners and educators engaging

with these complex situations will most certainly prove

insightful and further the conceptual development and

application of a three-eyed seeing model.

Acknowledgements: This study was made possible

in part through funding from the University of Northern

British Columbia.

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Geothermal Home Heating

Frank Weichman

IntroductionSome of my neighbours want to be eco-friendly and

have incorporated geothermal heating units in their

new homes. The principle behind such a system is to

extract heat energy from below the ground and, with

electrical input from the power lines, deposit this heat

energy into the house. Ideally the temperature under

the house would be above room temperature and all

such a system would need would be some tubing un-derground, a circulating liquid in the tubing and a pump

to distribute the heat to the radiators in the house.

This being Canada, in most of our country the tem-

perature below ground is below the desired room

temperature year-round and therefore a device called

a heat pump must be used to raise the temperature of

the cool underground supply to a few degrees above

the desired room temperature before circulating it in

the house.

As a retired scientist with a remnant reservoir of

curiosity, I have acquired a strong interest in renewable

energy and energy efficiency, but I also worry abouthype versus progress. There are homebuilders advertis-

ing their capabilities in this field and there are think

tanks1 and other researchers2 who have made positive

recommendations for geothermal systems.

What I first want to explore with you is how a sci-

ence-educated consumer can apply basic physics to

evaluate geothermal heating in our climate. This kind

of evaluation also makes it a reasonable subject for an

exploration in the classroom of physics and technology

at a sufficiently low level of mathematical complexity.

As a result of that exploration, we should be able to

decide under what circumstances geothermal heating

makes sense in our climate.

The Ideal CaseThere are two quite different sources for geother-

mal heating. One is at locations with available heat

well above room temperature, say near hot springs.

Iceland is a good example. There, heat from below the

ground can be absorbed by a fluid and the hot fluid

can then be pumped through radiators to heat the

house as required.

The other source is an underground region, easilyaccessible by digging or drilling, with cool stable tem-

peratures in the range of 0 to 15 degrees. Appropriate

machinery can remove heat energy from the cool source,

upgrade it and then pump the upgraded heat energy

into radiators to warm the house. This second variant

of geothermal heating, called geoexchange by some,

ground source heat pump by others, is increasingly being

used in Canada, and is the subject of this exploration.

Because the heat source for geoexchange is below

the home comfort zone, any heat energy withdrawn

from this source must first be upgraded with a heat

pump—an inverse refrigerator—before being circu-lated in the home. The selling point for these systems

is that they can “extract three to four units of free

thermal energy from the earth for every unit of electri-

cal energy”3 needed to drive the system. A technical

term, COP (coefficient of performance), is used. It is

defined as heat energy delivered on the hot side di-

vided by (electrical) energy expended.

The quoted statement is scientifically valid, but, as

a skeptic, I felt the need for more precise numbers, the

economics and the ecological implications.

Join me, then, in an increasingly critical look at such

a system, starting with the most ideal conditions, fol-

lowed by some necessary complications.

1 Pembina Institute fact sheet: “Geoexchange – Energy Under Foot.”

2 Hanova, J, and H Dowlatabadi. 2007. “Strategic GHG Reduction Through the Use of Ground Source Heat Pump Technology.” Environmen-

tal Research Letters 2, 044001.

3 Pembina Institute, op cit.




The geothermal type of home heating system is

based on the heat engine. For our purposes, a heat

engine is a device that can extract energy in the form

of heat from a cold source, such as the interior of a

refrigerator, cool that source and deposit the extracted

heat energy into warmer surroundings (such as the

kitchen). Added in is the heat generated by the device

that extracts the heat. The device is called a heat pump

in these applications. Real heat pumps have losses,

equivalent to friction in mechanics.

For the ideal heat pump, removing an amount of

heat Q c from a reservoir kept at T

c and depositing the

upgraded heat Q house

in the house at T h must follow the

thermodynamic relations shown below, where W is the

(electrical) work done to drive the system. The tem-

peratures T in the expression must be expressed in the

Kelvin temperature scale.

T h −T cT h =

Qhouse −Qc

Qhouse=

W

Qhouse

Under the most ideal condition, how much me-

chanical (or electrical) energy is needed to pump heat

from under the ground at, say, a constant 5°C to a home

interior at 22°C? Convert to Kelvin: 5°C becomes 278°K

and 22°C becomes 295°K and

T h −T c

T h=295− 278

295= 0.0576

If, as above, all we needed to do was to raise the

temperature of the circulating fluid from 5°C to 22°C,

then W/Q house = 0.0576. Its reciprocal, heat into thehouse divided by external energy supplied, is the ideal

COP for that system, Q house

/W = 17.4. With that ideal

result, the coefficient of performance, COP, of three to

four promised by the installers for a real system looks

eminently achievable.

Add Some RealismThe first correction is to realize that the tempera-

ture in the house in the winter would respond very

sluggishly if the output temperature of the heat pump were set to the desired house temperature. Most radia-

tors or hot air outlets in houses I have experienced

feel warm, or even hot. Say 40°C. That would change

T h in the equation from 295°K to 313°K with the result

that Q house

/W = 8.94. Even with that added realism, the

advertised COP is well within our calculated ideal

value.

As a next step, add in that an installed heat pump

can’t be as efficient as an ideal heat engine. A fraction

of the electrical power input that drives the heat engine

is unavoidably going to be lost as heat. How do we

include these losses?

We will ignore the energy expended by a mechanical

pump that drives the heated liquid through the radia-

tors to circulate the heated liquid in the house. That

energy would also be required in regions where the

heat comes straight from the local hot springs.

The approach I suggest is to imagine there is an

ideal heat pump operating between the same tempera-

ture reservoirs as before, from 5°C to 40°C, but that in

addition a fraction f of the (electrical) energy needed

to operate the heat pump system is directly converted

into heat in the house and stays there. The known

(required) heat in the house Q house

will then consist of

Q ideal

, the heat energy provided by an ideal heat pump,

plus fW , the waste heat created by the machinery inthe house.

The ideal heat pump requires

W ideal

Qideal

= T h −T c

T h

The total energy expended to drive the system will

be W = W ideal

+ fW , while the heat gained by the house

is Q house

= Q ideal

+ fW.

With some algebraic manipulation we can solve for

Q house

/W in terms of the assumed temperatures and the

fraction f that the heat pump loses to the interior

environment.The result is

Qhouse = fW + T h

T h −T c(1− f )W

which reduces to

Qhouse = T h − fT c

T h −T cW

Check: should f = 1 we get, as expected, Q house

=

W ; the entire electrical input gets converted to heat

without any COP gain, equivalent to using an electric

radiator. For f = 0, we get

Qhouse = T h

T h −T cW

as before. Q house

, the heat gained in the house, is larger

than the energy W expended to put it there.

Even if we assume a 20 per cent waste of energy at

the heat pump device, that is, f = 0.20, the system




predicts a COP of Q house

/W = 7.26, and there still is no

need to break any obvious physical laws to obtain the

factor of three to four promised by the installers. In

fact, we can turn the problem around. Assuming a COP

of 4.0 and the temperatures used in the above calcula-

tions, we find that f = 0.62, a surprisingly high value

for the permissible waste at the device.

Do keep in mind that with the above setup we are

providing heat for the house at the output of the heat

pump. In addition, you need to provide energy to

circulate the heat through the house, just as you would

if you had hot springs next door.

Geothermal systems can provide a bonus in climates

different from Edmonton’s. Think of Toronto. Excessive

summer heat in the building can be deposited under-

ground near the pipes during air-conditioning periods.

That heat is at least partially stored in the ground for

use in the following winter. No heat pump required,

just collect the warm liquid from the radiators and sendit down the pipes. The cooled liquid is brought back

up and is ready to collect more house heat, making a

start on the air conditioning needs.

So the thermodynamics for winter heating looks

OK, and there is enough wiggle room for inefficiency

to expect a feasible system. Capital cost and payback

time are a separate issue, but then the same can be

said for flowers in the garden or paintings on the wall.

However, should you have enough spare cash, does

the installation of a ground source heat exchange

system make sense in the battle to reduce greenhouse

gas emissions? The answer depends, much like real

estate prices, on location, location, location.

In much of Canada, electricity is generated by hy-

droelectric plants. Most of the greenhouse gases as-

sociated with these plants were already expended

during the building phase. The “fuel,” rain, is generated

from the sun evaporating water. Solar and wind power

generating plants use very little greenhouse gas to run

once they are built. Nuclear power plants take a lot of

energy to build, but the fuel, uranium, produces a lot

more energy than the energy needed to dig it up and

refine it. We Albertans, however, depend on coal-firedpower plants and their emissions, although renewable

energy is available for the eco-conscious consumer.4

The critical question is, Can we reduce greenhouse gas

emissions when we switch from natural gas heating to

a geothermal system powered by the electricity gener-

ated by a coal-fired power plant?

Coal-fired power plants do the opposite of heat

pumps. They use the difference in temperature be-

tween cooling water and the steam created by the

burning coal to create mechanical energy in the form

of rapidly rotating turbines. The turbines in turn con-

vert the mechanical energy into electrical energy.

Modern coal-fired power stations convert roughly

40 per cent of the heat energy from the burning coal

into electrical energy; 60 per cent of the energy of the

burning coal is waste heat. It can be utilized for heating

purposes near the plant. That, by the way, is part of

modern practice—it is called cogeneration.

Let us look at what our geothermal system is doing.

Say we require 160 units of heat energy in the house.

We get that thanks to a coefficient of performance thatcould be as high as 4.0. That would imply that we use

only 40 units of electrical energy to operate our heat

pump to get four times as much heat, 160 units, in the

house. But our coal plants need to burn 100 units of

coal energy far out of town to create 40 units of electri-

cal energy for me to use at home. So we would still be

OK if our home heating uses coal: 100 units of coal at

the plants for 40 units at home to pump 160 units of

heat for the house. Looks positive.

Here, though, is the chemistry kicker. I don’t know

about you, but I heat my house with natural gas. Why?

Burning natural gas produces less greenhouse gas

than coal for the same amount of energy.5 Specifically,

burning coal, essentially carbon plus impurities, re-

leases 393 kJ per mole, while natural gas, essentially

methane, releases 891 kJ per mole.6 Both carbon and

methane have one carbon atom per molecule. Burning

equal numbers of carbon atoms, you get 891/397 = 2.25

more heat out of a methane molecule, CH4, as compared

to a carbon molecule, C, of coal. So, burning coal to

make electricity to run a heat pump makes no green-

house gas sense in our part of the country. We might

have gained 160 to 100 in energy use, but that becomesa 160 to 225 loss in greenhouse gas emissions.

So, why do it?

4 For example, Bullfrog Power.

5 Op cit.

6 Handbook of Chemistry and Physics, section on enthalpy of organic compounds.




Current PracticeThe answer lies with economics, not physics, as you

will see below.

We do know that heat pump systems are being

installed, so allow me to present some of the current

practices as obtained from local company brochures

and conversations with installers.In my hometown, Edmonton, it is considered suf-

ficient to bury municipal water pipes at a depth of

1.8 metres even though our winter temperatures can

drop to −40°C. Where a new home is built with ground

source heat pumps, a common option is to lay flat

loops of polyethylene tubing in a 2.5-metres-deep

excavation. That depth is chosen as being a reasonable

compromise between achieving a year-round stable

temperature and a depth that can be easily accessed

by a backhoe. A more expensive option is to drill one

or more 75-metres-deep vertical holes to access an

even more stable soil temperature.7 Liquid is circulated

through the tubing to transport the heat energy be-

tween the ground and the heat pump. Locally the liquid

used is 20 per cent methanol in water, just in case the

ground freezes.

My natural gas fuel bill tells me I am using a total

of 120 GJ per year, which includes year-round cooking

and hot water. Say then that we ask our geothermal

system to deliver Q house

= 60 GJ into my house from a

stable source below ground at T c = 5°C = 278°K. Is

that feasible?

For the following estimates, accept the commercialquote of a COP of 3.0. The machinery is asked to deliver

60 GJ into the house, using 20 GJ from the electric

utility and 40 GJ from the soil surrounding the pipes.

Heat flows rather slowly through the ground. Is

there enough heat available near the buried under-

ground pipes to pull out the 40 GJ? As heat is removed,

the ground cools. If there is water, the water might

freeze. What volume do our geothermal pipes need to

access to keep the water in the soil from freezing?

Water has a high heat capacity and also a reasonably

good heat conductivity, which makes it a good starting

point for a guesstimation. How great a volume of stor-age capacity do we need if we will allow the water tem-

perature to drop from 5°C to 0°C without forming ice?

For each 4.2 J removed from one gram (= 1 cc) of

water, we cool the water by 1°C. Therefore, 21 J can

be withdrawn for each cc of water at 5°C without freez-

ing the water. Total amount of water needed to with-

draw the 40 GJ is 40 ×109 /21 = 1.9 ×109 cc =

1.9 ×106 liters = 1.9 ×103 m3. Suppose now we draw

the heat from a layer one metre thick. What area do

we require? The same number, 1.9 ×103 m3 /1 m =

1.9 ×103 m2, roughly 44 m by 44 m. If you are willing

to let all the water freeze, you can make use of the

latent heat of fusion at 333 J/gram. A total of 333 +

21 = 354 J/g is then available and we require a volume

of 113 m3, implying an area 10.6 m to a side, well within

the area of a city lot.

At some fortunate locations the cold reservoir is a

flowing stream continually bringing fresh water to the

coil of tubing, making the accessible volume very large.

I don’t know about weather in the east, but we in

the prairies have serious problems with droughts anddropping ground water levels. The heat capacity can

be expected to drop below the estimates made above

and as a consequence, as the winter progresses, the

temperature at the site of the buried pipes will de-

crease below the freezing point of water, which will

cause the coefficient of performance to drop signifi-

cantly. How much?

I have looked up the performance data of the manu-

facturer Water Furnace,8 where the following (engineer-

ing) numbers originate for one of their many units. For

their model ND026 they specify that for an input water

temperature of 20°F and an output air temperature of85.8°F their COP is 3.32. For an input water tempera-

ture of 40°F and an output air temperature of 91.9°F

their COP is 4.49. Convert from Fahrenheit to Kelvin

and you’ll find that the efficiency f is disappointing, at

0.677 and 0.758 respectively.

Worse than that, my informant 9 in industry tells me

that at +5°C input temperature the ground source heat

pump systems he installs are barely at the break-even

point.

$$ and ¢¢I believe that most of us are in favour of slowing

greenhouse gas emissions, particularly if we can

7 Private communication from Alex Lewoniuk at Geothermal Utilities in Edmonton.

8 Water Furnace 5 Series 500A11 Specification Catalog.

9 Alex Lewoniuk, Geothermal Utilities Ltd.




convince our neighbour to do so. I believe that for

Alberta the case for ground source heat pumps is dubi-

ous, mostly because our electricity is primarily gener-

ated from coal-fired power plants with inefficiencies

that barely match the COP advantage.

Also on the negative side is the fuel. As I have

stated, our electricity is generated from coal, whereas

most of us heat our homes with natural gas. Per joule

of heat output, natural gas produces less than half the

greenhouse gases of coal, further slanting us against

the heat pumps.

Short-term economics are also negative. It costs

more to install the geothermal systems and, strangely

enough, the fuel costs are higher here. According to

my January 2014 power bills, I paid $8.80 per GJ for

natural gas compared to $0.186 per kWh = $66.96 per

GJ for electricity; each includes taxes, fees and delivery

charges. In the summer the respective costs were $51

per GJ for natural gas and $0.237 per kWh = $85.32per GJ for electricity.

Why then even bother, particularly in fossil-fuel-rich

Alberta? We have seen that the economics are against

us, and so are GHG emissions, but people do it anyway.

There are those who can afford it, who have a pride in

doing something new and who have been convinced

by the simplistic arguments about COP. More important

are the scientists, engineers and architects who know

that, whatever the short-term economics may be, in

the long run we have to reduce our fossil fuel use, and

we might as well start learning now.10 On the housing

front this means building homes that are well ventilated

but at the same time highly insulated and with high

internal heat capacity. Heating and cooling demand is

then minimized. Because both natural gas and electric-

ity costs include a significant monthly connect charge,

it becomes economically sensible to forgo the gas

connection. My minimum natural gas bill, just to be

connected to the external gas pipes, is $50 per month.

That can pay for a fair chunk of electricity. For those

willing and able to pay, it has also become feasible for

homeowners to install photovoltaic electrical power

systems with an electrical output equal to the average

annual requirement of the home. We have several of

these “net zero” energy homes in and around Edmon-

ton. At that point the argument about the switch from

direct natural gas to indirect coal burning vanishes.

With the help of the geothermal COP, net zero is easier

to achieve.

In the above I have argued the pros and cons of

ground source heat pumps for the individual home-

owner. An early variant was to install large water tanks

in houses, such as in the Riverdale Net Zero home here

in town, for heat storage and heat recovery. I should

also mention that there are district applications of

these technologies, such as Drake Landing, in High

River, south of Calgary.

Finally, as more systems are built, the engineering

will improve. In years to come it would be hard toimagine that COP values won’t creep closer to ideal

values.

ConclusionOur schools have been encouraged to take science

out of its ivory tower and to teach it together with

technology. I have found it interesting to be able to

explore with you the physics, current technology, eco-

nomics and impact on greenhouse gas emissions of

currently available home heating systems, first as a

scientist looking at what might be possible in an ideal

world, followed by the wake-up calls when the data

from the manufacturers are included.

Please don’t get me wrong. I am deeply disturbed

by the waste of natural resources all around me and

applaud all attempts to improve energy efficiency. I

ride a bicycle to work, use transit where available and

even grow a few veggies in the garden, but I do want

our choices to be based on facts, not on dreams.

10 CMHC (Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation) has supported the research projects.




Millsap and the Level of Civilization

Wytze Brouwer

“You know, Brouwer, I think you could measure the

extent of a nation’s civilization by the number of dif-

ferent types of cheese it produces.”

Millsap and I, with our wives, Helen and Geri, were

walking down the Champs Elysees in Paris, discussing

Europe’s fragile economic situation and its possible

effect on our pension, when Millsap came up with the

above comment.

“Consider a nation that produces Brie, Camembert,

Chevre, Beaufort …”“Beaufort,” I interrupted him, “That’s not a cheese,

it’s a measure of wind velocity.”

“Don’t be such an ignoramus, Brouwer, Beaufort is

a nice cheese made from cow’s milk and is very popular

in the French campagne.”

“But why should you measure a country’s level of

civilization by the number of types of cheeses it pro-

duces?” Geri wanted to know.

“Well, think of all the rich tradition a country must

have to have developed hundreds of types of cheese.

What better measure of civilization could there be?”

“You could suggest the most civilized country pro-

duces the most different kinds of wine,” suggested

Helen, getting into the spirit of things.

“I’ll bet there is a close correlation between the

different types of cheese and different types of wine.

Did you notice that a different wine is suggested for

each of the different cheeses on the menu last night?”

This type of discussion is typical of the high level

of intellectual speculation Millsap and I engage in, and

sometimes—not often—our wives join us in them.

“I suppose you chose cheese, Bert,” said Helen,

“because France produces the most different kinds ofcheese. You find Britain a lot duller so it probably pro-

duces fewer cheeses.”

“Let me just check this on my smart phone,” I sug-

gested. “I bet there’s a list somewhere telling you how

many different kinds of cheese each country produces

… Yes, here it is … Wow! Great Britain produces over

700 different types of cheese and France produces only

400 types. There goes your measure of civilization,

Millsap, unless you want to recognize Britain as the

most civilized country in the world.”

“Let me see that phone, Brouwer! Ah, France ex-

ports the most cheese in the world, and Britain is 10th

in cheese exports. It’s how you export your culture

that determines how civilized the rest of the world

thinks you are.”

“Well, then, how about the US? It produces more

tons of cheese than France or Britain combined. Howabout that for culture?”

“You’d better give up, Millsap,” said Geri. “Cheese

production probably is not related to level of civiliza-

tion. Besides, it’s too biased towards the Western

nations, which have a history of cheese making. Be-

sides, we’re near the Louvre, and can reflect on a dif-

ferent kind of culture.”

So we left the cheese discussion until dinner time,

when we chose a nice Roquefort to go with dinner.

Millsap looked over the wine list and selected a Beau-

jolais, and asked the waiter to bring a bottle.

“Mais non, non, non, monsieur,” expostulated the

waiter, “ze Beaujolais go with ze Brie or Camembert.

Monsieur wishes a nice Cabernet Sauvignon, n’est-ce

pas?”

So we followed the waiter’s recommendation and

enjoyed a great dinner. Afterwards we briefly harked

back to the morning’s discussion. Millsap had contin-

ued to research into the prevalence of cheese consump-

tion and had discovered, as he put it, an interesting fact.

“It seems to be the case,” said Millsap, “that the

consumption of cheese increases with level of educa-

tion. College graduates eat on the average more cheesethan high school dropouts. That does seem to lend

some support that cheese consumption is related to

level of civilization.”

“Oh, give it up, Bert. There must be much better

ways of determining whether or not a society is civi-

lized.” Helen had had enough of this semifacetious

pursuit of the significance of cheese.




We retired to the hotel garden where we could sit

around and ponder about what actually makes us civi-

lized or not. We considered level of scientific achieve-

ment, with high marks for civilization given to Great

Britain, Germany, the United States and Russia, and

had to conclude that, given the history of the 20th cen-

tury, level of scientific achievement seemed to be as

confusing a criterion as variety of cheeses. Even general

level of education, though somewhat appealing, did not

satisfy us as a sufficient criterion of level of civilisation.

There are a number of other measures of level of

civilization, such as gross domestic product, but we

could not find a measure we could agree on until Geri

suggested, “Isn’t there a philosopher who measures

the maturity of a civilization by how well a nation takes

care of its poor people?”

Millsap responded, “Actually, the major world re-

ligions all agree that the real worth of a civilization

does depend on how a nation takes care of its poor

and disadvantaged. By that measure, we have been

slipping the last 30 or so years since the difference in

income between the rich and the poor has increased

tremendously in the United States and Canada. I sup-

pose the Scandinavian countries are most civilized by

that measure, and coincidentally the Scandinavian

countries also have higher educational levels and

lower crime rates than many societies in which there

are great gaps in income between the rich and the

poor.”

So the day ended with at least a consensus that

material wealth, or cheese, was not a measure of civi-

lization, but that nonmaterial goals provided a better

measure of how high a civilization could reach.

However, we still passed the rest of our holidays trying

out the best wines and cheeses that France had to

offer.




Millsap and His- or Herland

Wytze Brouwer

“Say, Jenny, have you heard of a book called Hisland?

Chris Mitchell from Religious Studies told me to read

it. He says it’s about a world with only men in it. Ap-

parently, with test tube babies and in-vitro fertilization

you don’t need both sexes anymore. Chris told me that

without the sexual competition between men, society

became a lot more peaceful. Just imagine, a world

without war, apparently much less competitive, like a

new Garden of Eden.”

“Millsap, if you imagine that a world without women would be more peaceful, you must be stark

raving mad. How can you even entertain the notion?

You as a psychologist should know that a world of

sexually frustrated men would destroy each other in a

blink of an eye.”

Jenny Parsons could usually entertain Millsap’s of-

ten unusual notions quite calmly and rationally, but

this was definitely too much. Her cheeks were flushed

and her hands were shaking. I laid my hand on her

shoulder and told Jenny that I agreed with her whole-

heartedly. I think if you wanted peace on Earth, you

would have a better chance of achieving it if you

banned men and had only women running society.

However, I wasn’t totally sure of what Millsap was

up to. Was he just throwing out a wild suggestion

to get Jenny angry? After all, I doubted very much

if there was a book called Hisland. I did possess a

copy of Herland, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, which

makes a much more convincing case for a society run

by women.

“Millsap, are you serious about the existence of a

book by the title Hisland? Isn’t Chris Mitchell just pull-

ing your leg?”Millsap’s response to my question was to call the

waiter over to replenish our drinks. “One Rosemary

Sunset for me, a light beer for Jenny and a pint of

dishwashing liquid for Brouwer.”

“That’ll be a shandy, in case you’ve forgotten,” I

advised the waiter, but he just smiled understandingly

and got our drinks.

We were sitting around our usual table, despite the

repainting of the bar at the Faculty Club. It seemed

that the lively orange walls were being repainted a dull

grey, which already seemed to affect our mood.

“Actually, Chris Mitchell is a very intelligent fellow.

He is an expert on comparative religions,” continued

Millsap, after he had gulped half his Sunset.

“And I suppose he is single, and probably frustrat-

ed?” Jenny was still somewhat perturbed.

“He is single and is the most well-adjusted personI know. Next to him, Brouwer would look like a nervous

wreck.”

“I don’t believe you, Millsap. You are hardly a good

judge of mental balance in yourself or in other people.

I think that Chris Mitchell is pulling your leg and is

probably referring to the book called Herland, by

Gilman.”

Jenny was probably spot on. Herland is a lovely little

book, written exactly 100 years ago by Charlotte Perkins

Gilman. Herland is a society of women who have estab-

lished a country free of war, and relatively free of exces-

sive social competition between its inhabitants. Her-

land lies in a semitropical isolated valley, surrounded

by rugged snow-covered mountains, which keeps

Herland free from interference from the outside world.

Herland is “discovered” by three men who have

heard rumours that such a society exists, and decide

to explore the area to see if such an unlikely society

does actually exist. They don’t expect to find it, but

the possibility is intriguing enough to make the effort

worthwhile. What would such a society be like? Would

the women be passive and dependent, and the society

stagnant without the technological and scientific inputof males? However, the explorers discover that the

women in Herland turn out to be strong, intelligent

and technically quite advanced and appeared to run a

very egalitarian and happy society. In view of the his-

tory of the 20th century, one reads the book almost

nostalgically, since such a peaceful world would have

been a great alternative to our current society, which




has lived through one of the most violent and male-

dominated centuries in history.

“What do you think, Millsap? Was Chris pulling your

leg, or are you pulling ours?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t believe that a society run

by women would be more practical and happy than

our society, which has made great strides economically

in the last century. And look at all the medical innova-

tions of the past 100 years. In fact, you could make a

good case for the thesis that medical advances occur

mainly because of war. Societies need decision-makers

who know how to act quickly and strongly to stamp

out the evil in this world.”

I shrugged my shoulders at Millsap’s somewhat

harsh opinions. Millsap’s heroes today appeared to be

the militant politicians who were ready to use military

might all over the world. His ideal person appeared to

be the Warrior, not the Scientist, or the craftsman of

many utopias or even the Mother, whose nurturing

serves as the model of social interaction in Gilman’s

Herland.

“I guess, Millsap,” I ventured, “I personally would

love to see a society that is based less on masculine,

more aggressive and competitive qualities (like our

western society) and somewhat more on the qualities

of compassion and cooperation that Gilman advocated.”




Diversity • Equity • Human Rights Diversity • Equity • Human Rights

We are there for you!

PD-80-14 indd gr4

www.teachers.ab.ca

Diversity • Equity • Human Rights Diversity • Equity • Human Rights

Specialist councils’ role in promoting

diversity, equity and human rights Alberta’s rapidly changing demographics are creating an exciting cultural diversity that isreflected in the province’s urban and rural classrooms. The new landscape of the schoolprovides an ideal context in which to teach students that strength lies in diversity. Thechallenge that teachers face is to capitalize on the energy of today’s intercultural classroommix to lay the groundwork for all students to succeed. To support teachers in their criticalroles as leaders in inclusive education, in 2000 the Alberta Teachers’ Associationestablished the Diversity, Equity and Human Rights Committee (DEHRC).

DEHRC aims to assist educators in their legal, professional and ethical responsibilities toprotect all students and to maintain safe, caring and inclusive learning environments. Topicsof focus for DEHRC include intercultural education, inclusive learning communities, genderequity, UNESCO Associated Schools Project Network, sexual orientation and gender variance.

Here are some activities the DEHR committee undertakes:• Studying, advising and making recommendations on policies that reflect respect for

diversity, equity and human rights

• Offering annual Inclusive Learning Communities Grants (up to $2,000) to supportactivities that support inclusion

• Producing Just in Time , an electronic newsletter that can be found at www.teachers.ab.ca; Teaching in Alberta; Diversity, Equity and Human Rights.

• Providing and creating print and web-based teacher resources

• Creating a list of presenters on DEHR topics

• Supporting the Association instructor workshops on diversity

Specialist councils are uniquely situated to learn about diversity issues directly from teachersin the field who see how diversity issues play out in subject areas. Specialist councilmembers are encouraged to share the challenges they may be facing in terms of diversity intheir own classrooms and to incorporate these discussions into specialist council activities,

publications and conferences.Diversity, equity and human rights affect the work of all members. What are you doing tomake a dif ference?

Further information about the work of the DEHR committee can be found on the Association’s website at www.teachers.ab.ca under Teaching in Alberta, Diversity, Equityand Human Rights.

Alternatively, contact Andrea Berg, executive staff officer, Professional Development, [email protected] for more information.



Science Council Executive 2014/15

President Ian DoktorBus 780-245-0253

[email protected]

Past President Rose LapointeBus [email protected]

President-Elect TBA

Secretary Brenna ToblanBus [email protected] or [email protected]

TreasurerRandy Proskiw Bus [email protected]

Conference Codirectors 2015

Carryl Bennett-BrownBus [email protected] or [email protected]

Ania OssowskaBus [email protected]

Alicia TaylorBus [email protected]

DIRECTORS

Division IIIGreg WondgaBus [email protected]

Chemistry Rekha DhawanBus 403-230-4743

[email protected]

Biology Danika RichardBus [email protected]

Physics—Division IV)Cliff SosnowskiBus [email protected]

Science—Division IV Leon LauBus [email protected] or [email protected]

Science—Elementary Audrey PavelichBus [email protected] [email protected]

Journal EditorWytze BrouwerBus 780-492-1074

[email protected]

Newsletter EditorTrinity AyresBus [email protected] [email protected]

Technology DirectorDeepali [email protected]

Postsecondary RepresentativeBrad [email protected]

Alberta Education LiaisonWes IrwinBus 780-422-2928

[email protected] or [email protected]

PEC LiaisonSean BrownBus [email protected] or [email protected]

ATA Staff AdvisorMarv Hackman

Bus 780-447-9488 or [email protected]

REGIONAL COUNCILS

Calgary Junior High Joy BaderBus 403-243-8880

[email protected]

Edmonton Biology Morrie L Smith

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Edmonton Physics Vlad Pasek Bus [email protected]

Michael Lukie AlbertaScienceEducationJournalVol44No1August2015

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