Читать книгу Creative Chemistry: Descriptive of Recent Achievements in the Chemical Industries - Edwin E. Slosson - Страница 15

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The Great War not only starved people: it starved the land. Enough nitrogen was thrown away in some indecisive battle on the Aisne to save India from a famine. The population of Europe as a whole has not been lessened by the war, but the soil has been robbed of its power to support the population. A plant requires certain chemical elements for its growth and all of these must be within reach of its rootlets, for it will accept no substitutes. A wheat stalk in France before the war had placed at its feet nitrates from Chile, phosphates from Florida and potash from Germany. All these were shut off by the firing line and the shortage of shipping.

Out of the eighty elements only thirteen are necessary for crops. Four of these are gases: hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen and chlorine. Five are metals: potassium, magnesium, calcium, iron and sodium. Four are non-metallic solids: carbon, sulfur, phosphorus and silicon. Three of these, hydrogen, oxygen and carbon, making up the bulk of the plant, are obtainable ad libitum from the air and water. The other ten in the form of salts are dissolved in the water that is sucked up from the soil. The quantity needed by the plant is so small and the quantity contained in the soil is so great that ordinarily we need not bother about the supply except in case of three of them. They are nitrogen, potassium and phosphorus. These would be useless or fatal to plant life in the elemental form, but fixed in neutral salt they are essential plant foods. A ton of wheat takes away from the soil about 47 pounds of nitrogen, 18 pounds of phosphoric acid and 12 pounds of potash. If then the farmer does not restore this much to his field every year he is drawing upon his capital and this must lead to bankruptcy in the long run.

So much is easy to see, but actually the question is extremely complicated. When the German chemist, Justus von Liebig, pointed out in 1840 the possibility of maintaining soil fertility by the application of chemicals it seemed at first as though the question were practically solved. Chemists assumed that all they had to do was to analyze the soil and analyze the crop and from this figure out, as easily as balancing a bank book, just how much of each ingredient would have to be restored to the soil every year. But somehow it did not work out that way and the practical agriculturist, finding that the formulas did not fit his farm, sneered at the professors and whenever they cited Liebig to him he irreverently transposed the syllables of the name. The chemist when he went deeper into the subject saw that he had to deal with the colloids, damp, unpleasant, gummy bodies that he had hitherto fought shy of because they would not crystallize or filter. So the chemist called to his aid the physicist on the one hand and the biologist on the other and then they both had their hands full. The physicist found that he had to deal with a polyvariant system of solids, liquids and gases mutually miscible in phases too numerous to be handled by Gibbs's Rule. The biologist found that he had to deal with the invisible flora and fauna of a new world.

Plants obey the injunction of Tennyson and rise on the stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things. Each successive generation lives on what is left of the last in the soil plus what it adds from the air and sunshine. As soon as a leaf or tree trunk falls to the ground it is taken in charge by a wrecking crew composed of a myriad of microscopic organisms who proceed to break it up into its component parts so these can be used for building a new edifice. The process is called "rotting" and the product, the black, gummy stuff of a fertile soil, is called "humus." The plants, that is, the higher plants, are not able to live on their own proteids as the animals are. But there are lower plants, certain kinds of bacteria, that can break up the big complicated proteid molecules into their component parts and reduce the nitrogen in them to ammonia or ammonia-like compounds. Having done this they stop and turn over the job to another set of bacteria to be carried through the next step. For you must know that soil society is as complex and specialized as that above ground and the tiniest bacterium would die rather than violate the union rules. The second set of bacteria change the ammonia over to nitrites and then a third set, the Amalgamated Union of Nitrate Workers, steps in and completes the process of oxidation with an efficiency that Ostwald might envy, for ninety-six per cent. of the ammonia of the soil is converted into nitrates. But if the conditions are not just right, if the food is insufficient or unwholesome or if the air that circulates through the soil is contaminated with poison gases, the bacteria go on a strike. The farmer, not seeing the thing from the standpoint of the bacteria, says the soil is "sick" and he proceeds to doctor it according to his own notion of what ails it. First perhaps he tries running in strike breakers. He goes to one of the firms that makes a business of supplying nitrogen-fixing bacteria from the scabs or nodules of the clover roots and scatters these colonies over the field. But if the living conditions remain bad the newcomers will soon quit work too and the farmer loses his money. If he is wise, then, he will remedy the conditions, putting a better ventilation system in his soil perhaps or neutralizing the sourness by means of lime or killing off the ameboid banditti that prey upon the peaceful bacteria engaged in the nitrogen industry. It is not an easy job that the farmer has in keeping billions of billions of subterranean servants contented and working together, but if he does not succeed at this he wastes his seed and labor.

The layman regards the soil as a platform or anchoring place on which to set plants. He measures its value by its superficial area without considering its contents, which is as absurd as to estimate a man's wealth by the size of his safe. The difference in point of view is well illustrated by the old story of the city chap who was showing his farmer uncle the sights of New York. When he took him to Central Park he tried to astonish him by saying "This land is worth $500,000 an acre." The old farmer dug his toe into the ground, kicked out a clod, broke it open, looked at it, spit on it and squeezed it in his hand and then said, "Don't you believe it; 'tain't worth ten dollars an acre. Mighty poor soil I call it." Both were right.

Courtesy of American Cyanamid Co.

FIXING NITROGEN BY CALCIUM CARBIDE

A view of the oven room in the plant of the American Cyanamid Company. The steel cylinders standing in the background are packed with the carbide and then put into the ovens sunk in the floor. When these are heated internally by electricity to 2000 degrees Fahrenheit pure nitrogen is let in and absorbed by the carbide, making cyanamid, which may be used as a fertilizer or for ammonia.

Photo by International Film Service

A BARROW FULL OF POTASH SALTS EXTRACTED FROM SIX TONS OF GREEN KELP BY THE GOVERNMENT CHEMISTS

NATURE'S SILENT METHOD OF NITROGEN FIXATION

The nodules on the vetch roots contain colonies of bacteria which have the power of taking the free nitrogen out of the air and putting it in compounds suitable for plant food.

The modern agriculturist realizes that the soil is a laboratory for the production of plant food and he ordinarily takes more pains to provide a balanced ration for it than he does for his family. Of course the necessity of feeding the soil has been known ever since man began to settle down and the ancient methods of maintaining its fertility, though discovered accidentally and followed blindly, were sound and efficacious. Virgil, who like Liberty Hyde Bailey was fond of publishing agricultural bulletins in poetry, wrote two thousand years ago:

But sweet vicissitudes of rest and toil

Make easy labor and renew the soil

Yet sprinkle sordid ashes all around

And load with fatt'ning dung thy fallow soil.

The ashes supplied the potash and the dung the nitrate and phosphate. Long before the discovery of the nitrogen-fixing bacteria, the custom prevailed of sowing pea-like plants every third year and then plowing them under to enrich the soil. But such local supplies were always inadequate and as soon as deposits of fertilizers were discovered anywhere in the world they were drawn upon. The richest of these was the Chincha Islands off the coast of Peru, where millions of penguins and pelicans had lived in a most untidy manner for untold centuries. The guano composed of the excrement of the birds mixed with the remains of dead birds and the fishes they fed upon was piled up to a depth of 120 feet. From this Isle of Penguins—which is not that described by Anatole France—a billion dollars' worth of guano was taken and the deposit was soon exhausted.

Then the attention of the world was directed to the mainland of Peru and Chile, where similar guano deposits had been accumulated and, not being washed away on account of the lack of rain, had been deposited as sodium nitrate, or "saltpeter." These beds were discovered by a German, Taddeo Haenke, in 1809, but it was not until the last quarter of the century that the nitrates came into common use as a fertilizer. Since then more than 53,000,000 tons have been taken out of these beds and the exportation has risen to a rate of 2,500,000 to 3,000,000 tons a year. How much longer they will last is a matter of opinion and opinion is largely influenced by whether you have your money invested in Chilean nitrate stock or in one of the new synthetic processes for making nitrates. The United States Department of Agriculture says the nitrate beds will be exhausted in a few years. On the other hand the Chilean Inspector General of Nitrate Deposits in his latest official report says that they will last for two hundred years at the present rate and that then there are incalculable areas of low grade deposits, containing less than eleven per cent., to be drawn upon.

Anyhow, the South American beds cannot long supply the world's need of nitrates and we shall some time be starving unless creative chemistry comes to the rescue. In 1898 Sir William Crookes—the discoverer of the "Crookes tubes," the radiometer and radiant matter—startled the British Association for the Advancement of Science by declaring that the world was nearing the limit of wheat production and that by 1931 the bread-eaters, the Caucasians, would have to turn to other grains or restrict their population while the rice and millet eaters of Asia would continue to increase. Sir William was laughed at then as a sensationalist. He was, but his sensations were apt to prove true and it is already evident that he was too near right for comfort. Before we were half way to the date he set we had two wheatless days a week, though that was because we persisted in shooting nitrates into the air. The area producing wheat was by decades:[1]