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The development of the science and
engineering of materials in this century has many aspects which
promise to enrich the conceptual reservoir of the philosopher of
matter. In this essay I would like to explore a few of the
philosophical issues raised by new developments in materials
science, particularly the new awareness of the importance of
studying the behaviour of matter in its full complexity. This
awareness has, in turn, resulted in part from the creation and
experimentation with materials which involve a heterogenous meshwork
of components, such as fiberglass and other composites, as opposed
to the simpler and more predictable behaviour of uniform,
homogeneous materials such as industrial-quality steel.
Cyril Stanley Smith, a metallurgist and
an expert in the history of materials, has explored the development
of the philosophy of matter in the West, from the ancient Greeks to
the present day, and has concluded that for the most part, the study
of the complexity and variability of behaviour of materials has
always been the concern of empirically oriented craftmen or
engineers, not of philosophers or scientists. In his own words:
"Through most of history, matter has
been a concern of metaphysics more than physics, and materials of
neither. Classical physics at its best turned matter into mass,
while chemistry discovered the atom and lost interest in
properties...[In both metaphysical speculation and scientific
research] sensitivity to the wonderful diversity of real materials
was lost, at first because philosophical thought despised the
senses, later because the . . . the new science could only deal with
one thing at a time. It was atomistic, or at least, simplistic, in
its very essence." {1}
This author claims that by the time
Greek philosophers like Democritus or Aristotle developed their
philosophies of matter, practically everything about the behaviour
of metals and alloys that could be explored with pre-industrial
technology, was already known to craftmen and blacksmiths. For at
least a thousand years before philosophers began their speculations,
this knowledge was developed on a purely empirical basis, through a
direct interaction with the complex behaviour of materials. Indeed,
the early philosophies of matter may have been derived from
observation and conversation with those "whose eyes had seen and
whose fingers had felt the intricacies of the behaviour of materials
during thermal processing or as they were shaped by chipping,
cutting or plastic deformation." {2} For instance, Aristotleis
famous four elements, fire, earth, water and air, may be said to
reflect a sensual awareness of what today we know as energy and the
three main states of aggregation of matter, the solid, liquid and
gas states.
As metaphysical speculation gave special
meanings to these four elementary qualities, their original physical
meaning was lost, and the variability and complexity of real
materials was replaced with the uniform behaviour of a
philosophically simplified matter about which one could only
speculate symbolically. It is true that sixteen-century alchemists
recovered a certain respect for a direct interaction with matter and
energy, and that seventeen-century Cartesian philosophers intensely
speculated about the variable properties of different ways of
aggregating material components. But these early attempts at
capturing the complexity of physical transmutations and of the
effect of physical structure on the complex properties of materials,
eventually lost to the emergent science of chemistry, and its almost
total concentration on simple behaviour: that of individual
components (such as Lavoisieris oxygen) or of substances that
conform to the law of definite proportions (as in Daltonis atomic
theory).
There was, as Cyril Stanley Smith
observes, an "immense gain" in these simplifications, since the
exact sciences could not have developed without them, but the
triumph of chemistry was accompanied by a "not insignificant loss".
In particular, the complete concentration of analysis at the level
of molecules caused an almost total disregard for higher levels of
aggregation in solids, but it is there where most complex properties
of interest to todayis material scientist occurr. {3} As it is usual
in the history of science, there were several exceptions. Galileo
studied the strenght of materials in the sixteen-century, and in the
seventeenth while Newton was reducing the variability of material
behaviour to questions of mass, his arch-enemy Robert Hooke was
developing the first theory of elasticity. As materials scientist
James Edward Gordon has remarked, "unlike Newton, Hooke was
intensely interested in what went on in kitchens, dockyards, and
buildings -the mundane mechanical arenas of life...Nor did Hooke
despised craftmen, and he probably got the inspiration for at least
some of his ideas from his friend the great London clockmaker Thomas
Tompion...". {4} Despite the imporatnt exceptions, I believe it is
fair to say that, at least in England, much more prestige was
attached to scientific fields that were not concerned with these
mundane mechanical arenas where materials displayed their full
complex behaviour. This may be one reason why conceptual advances in
the study of materials, such as the key conceptual distinction
between stress and strain (one refering to the forces acting on a
material structure, the other to the behaviour of the structure in
response to those forces), were made in France where applied science
was encouraged both officially and socially. {5}
James Gordon has called the study of the
strenght of materials the Cinderella of science, partly because much
of the knowledge was developed by craftmen, metallurgists and
engineers (that is the flow of ideas often ran from the applied to
the pure fields), and partly because by its very nature, the study
of materials involved an interaction between many scientific
disciplines, an interdisciplinary approach which ran counter to the
more prestigious tradition of "pure" specialization. {6} Today, of
course, the interdisciplinary study of complexity, not only in
materials but in many other areas of science, from physics and
ecology to economics, is finally taking its place at the
cutting-edge of scientific research. We are begining to understand
that any complex system, whether composed of interacting molecules,
organic creatures or economic agents, is capable of spontaneoulsy
generating order and of actively organizing itself into new
structures and forms. It is precisely this ability of matter and
energy to self-organize that is of greatest significance to the
philosopher. Let me illustrate this with an example from materials
science.
Long ago, practical metallurgists
understood that a given piece of metal can be made to change its
behaviour, from ductile and tough to strong and brittle, by
hammering it while cold. The opposite transmutation, from hard to
ductile, could also be achieved by heating the piece of metal again
and then allowing it to cool down slowly (that is, by annealing it).
Yet, although blacksmiths knew empirically how to cause these
metamorphoses, it was not until a few decades ago that scientists
understood its actual microscopic mechanism. As it turns out,
explaining the physical basis of ductility involved a radical
conceptual change: scientists had to stop viewing metals in static
terms, that is, as deriving their strenghth in a simple way from the
chemical bonds between their composing atoms, and begin seeing them
as dynamical systems. In particular, the real cause of brittleness
in rigid materials, and the reason why ductile ones can resist being
broken, has to do with the complex dynamics of spreading cracks.
A crack or fracture needs energy to
spread through a piece of material and so any mechanism that takes
away energy from the crack will make the material tough. In metals,
the mechanism seems to be based on certain defects or imperfections
within the component crystals called dislocations. Dislocations not
only trap energy locally but moreover, are highly mobile and may be
brought into existance in large quantities by the very
concentrations of stress which tend to break a piece of material.
Roughly, if populations of these line defects are free to move in a
material they will endow it with the capacity to yield locally
without breaking, that is, they will make the material tough. On the
other hand, restricted movement of dislocations will result in a
stronger but more brittle material. {7} Both of these properties may
be desirable for different tools, and even within one and the same
tool: in a sword or knife, for instance, the body must be tough
while the cutting edge must be strong.
What matters from the philosophical
point of view is precisely that toughness or strength are emergent
properties of a metallic material that result from the complex
dynamical behaviour of some of its components. An even deeper
philosophical insight is related to the fact that the dynamics of
populations of dislocations are very closely related to the
population dynamics of very different entities, such as molecules in
a rhythmic chemical reaction, termites in a nest-building colony,
and perhaps even human agents in a market. In other words, despite
the great difference in the nature and behaviour of the components,
a given population of interacting entities will tend to display
similar collective behaviour as long as there is some feedback in
the interactions between components (that is, the interactions must
be nonlinear) and as long as there is an intense enough flow of
energy rushing through the system (that is, the population in
question must operate far from thermodynamic equilibrium). As I will
argue in a moment, the idea that many different material and
energetic systems may have a common source of spontaneous order is
now playing a key role in the development of a new philosophy of
matter. But for materials scientists this commonality of behaviour
is of direct practical significance since it means that as they
begin to confront increasingly more complex material properties,
they can make use of tools coming from nonlinear dynamics and
nonequilibrium thermodynamics, tools that may have been developed to
deal with completly different problems. In the words of one author:
". . . during the last years the whole
field of materials science and related technologies has experienced
a complete renewal. Effectively, by using techniques corresponding
to strong nonequilibrium conditions, it is now possible to escape
from the constraints of equilibrium thermodynamics and to process
totally new material structures including different types of
glasses, nano- and quasi-crystals, superlaticces . . . As materials
with increased resistance to fatigue and fracture are sought for
actual applications, a fundamental understanding of the collective
behaviour of dislocations and point defects is highly desirable.
Since the usual thermodynamic and mechanical concepts are not
adapted to describe those situations, progress in this direction
should be related to the explicit use of genuine nonequilibrium
techniques, nonlinear dynamics and instability theory". {8}
Thus, to the extent that the
self-organizing behaviour of populations of dislocations within
ductile metals is basically similar to the spontaneous collective
behaviour in other populations, tools and concepts developed in very
different disciplines may apply across the board, and this may help
legitimize the intrinsic interdisciplinary approach of materials
science. As I just said, however, the common behaviour of different
collectivities in nonlinear, nonequilibrium conditions is of even
greater importance to the philosopher of matter. This is very clear
in the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari who are
perhaps the most radical contemporary representatives of this branch
of philosophy. Inspired in part by some early versions of complexity
theory (e.g. Rene Thomis catastrophe theory, and the theories of
technology of Gilbert Simondon) these authors arrived at the idea
that all structures, whether natural or social, are indeed different
expressions of a single matter-energy behaving dynamically, that is,
matter-energy in flux, to which they have given the name of
"machinic phylum". In their words: ". . .the machinic phylum is
materiality, natural or artificial, and both simultaneoulsy; it is
matter in movement, in flux, in variation. . ." {9}
The term "phylum" is used in biology to
refer to the common body-plan of many different creatures. Human
beings, for example, belong to the phylum "chordata", as do all
other vertebrate animals. The basic idea is that of a common source
of form, a body-plan which through different foldings and
stretchings during embryological development, is capable of
generating a wide variety of specific forms, from snakes, to
giraffes to humans. Deleuze and Guattari, aware that nonlinear
population processes are common not only to animals and plants but
to metals and other inorganic materials, have extended this meaning
to refer to a common source of spontaneoulsy generated form across
all material entities. I began this essay by quoting the opinion of
a metallurgist, Cyril Stanley Smith, on the historical importance of
sensually aquired knowledge about the complex behaviour of metals
and other materials. And indeed, in Deleuze and Guattariis
philosophy of matter, metallurgists play an important role:
". . . what metal and metallurgy bring
to light is a life proper to matter, a vital state of matter as
such, a material vitalism that doubtless exists everywhere but is
ordinarly hidden or covered, rendered unrecognizable . . .
Metallurgy is the consciousness or thought of the matter-flow, and
metal the correlate of this consciousness. As expressed in
panmetallism, metal is coextensive to the whole of matter, and the
whole of matter to metallurgy. Even the waters, the grasses and
varieties of wood, the animals are populated by salts or mineral
elements. Not everything is metal, but metal is everywhere. . . The
machinic phylum is metallurgical, or at least has a metallic head,
as its itinerant probe-head or guidance device." {9}
One aspect of the definition of the
machinic phylum is of special interest to our discussion of
contemporary materials science. Not only is the phylum defined in
dynamic terms (that is, as matter in motion) but also as "matter in
continuous variation". Indeed, these philosophers define the term
"machinic" precisely as the process through which structures can be
created by bringing together heterogenous materials, that is, by
articulating the diverse as such, without homogenization. In other
words, the emphasis here is not only on the spontaneous generation
of form, but on the fact that this morphogenetic potential is best
expressed not by the simple and uniform behaviour of materials, but
by their complex and variable behaviour. In this sense, contemporary
industrial metals, such as mild steel, may not be the best
illustration of this new philosophical conception of matter. While
naturally ocurring metals contain all kinds of impurities that
change their mechanical behaviour in different ways, steel and other
industrial metals have undergone in the last two hundred years an
intense process of uniformation and homogenization in both their
chemical composition and their physical structure. The rationale
behind this process was partly based on questions of reliability and
quality control, but it had also a social component: both human
workers and the materials they used needed to be disciplined and
their behaviour made predictable. Only then the full efficiencies
and economies of scale of mass production techniques could be
realized. But this homogenization also affected the engineers that
designed structures using this well disciplined materials. In the
words of James E. Gordon:
"The widespread use of steel for so many
purposes in the modern world is only partly due to technical causes.
Steel, especially mild steel, might euphemistically be described as
a material that facilitates the dilution of skills. . .
Manufacturing processes can be broken down into many separate
stages, each requiring a minimum of skill or intelligence. . . At a
higher mental level, the design process becomes a good deal easier
and more foolproof by the use of a ductile, isotropic, and
practically uniform material with which there is already a great
deal of accumulated experience. The design of many components, such
as gear wheels, can be reduced to a routine that can be looked up in
handbooks." {10}
Gordon sees in the spread of the use of
steel in the late nineteen- and early twenty centuries, a double
danger for the creativity of structural designers. The first danger
is the idea that a single, universal material is good for all
different kinds of structure, some of which may be supporting loads
in compression, some in tension, some withstanding shear stresses
and others torsional stresses. But as Gordon points out, given that
the roles which a structure may play can be highly heterogenous, the
repertoir of materials that a designer uses should reflect this
complexity. On the other hand, he points out that, much as in the
case of biological materials like bone, new designs may involve
structures with properties that are in continuous variation, with
some portions of the structure better able to deal with compression
while others deal with tension. Intrinsically heterogenous
materials, such as fiberglass and the newer hi-tech composites,
afford designers this possibility. As Gordon says, "it is scarcely
practicable to tabulate elaborate sets of "typical mechanical
properties" for the new composites. In theory, the whole point of
such materials is that, unlike metals, they do not have "typical
properties, because the material is designed to suit not only each
individual structure, but each place in that structure." {11}
I do not mean to imply that there are no
legitimate roles to be played by homogenous materials with simple
and predictable behaviour, such as bearing loads in compression. And
similarly for the institutional and economic arrangements that were
behind the quest for uniformity: the economies of scale achieved by
routinizing production and some design tasks, were certainly very
significant. As with the already mentioned homogenizations performed
by scientists in their conceptions of matter, there were undoubtedly
some gains. The question is, what got lost in the process. I can
think of several things.
First, the nineteenth century process of
transfering skills from the human worker to the machine, and the
task of homogenizing metallic behaviour went hand in hand. As Cyril
Stanley Smith remarks "The craftman can compensate for differences
in the qualities of his material, for he can adjust the precise
strength and pattern of application of his tools to the materialis
local vagaries. Conversely, the constant motion of a machine
requires constant materials." {12} If its is true as I said at the
beggining of this essay that much of the knowledge about the complex
behaviour of materials was developed outside science by empirically
oriented individuals, the deskilling of craftmen that accompanied
mechanization may be seen as involving a loss of at least part of
that knowledge, since in many cases empirical know-how is stored in
the form of skills.
Second, as I just said, not only the
production process was routinized this way, so was to a lesser
extent the design process. Many professionals who design
load-bearing structures lost their ability to design with materials
that are not isotropic, that is, that do not have identical
properties in all directions. But it is precisely those abilities to
deal with complex, continuously variable bahaviour that are now
needed to design structures with the new composites. Hence, we may
need to nurture again our ability to deal with variation as a
creative force, and to think of structures that incorporate
heterogenous elements as a challenge to be met by innovative design.
Third, the quest for uniformity in human
and metallic behaviour went beyond the specific disciplinary devices
used in assembly-line factories. Many other things became
homogenized in the last few centuries. To give only two examples:
the genetic materials of our farm animals and crops have become much
more uniform, at first due to the spread of the "pedigree mystique",
and later in this century, by the development and diffusion of
miracle crops, like hybrid corn. Our linguistic materials also
became more uniform as the meshworks of heterogenous dialects which
existed in most countries began to yield to the spread of standard
languages, through compulsory education systems and the effects mass
media. As before, the question is not whether we achieved some
efficiencies through genetic and linguisitic standarization. We did.
The problem is that in the process we came to view heterogeneity and
variation as something to be avoided, as something pathological to
be cured or uprooted since it endangered the unity of the nation
state.
Finally, as Deleuze and Guattari point
out, the nineteen-century quest for uniformity may had had damaging
effects for the philosophy of matter by making the machinic phylum
effectively unrecognizable. As the behaviour of metals and other
mineral materials became routine, and hence, unremarkable,
philosophical attention became redirected to the more interesting
behaviour of living creatures, as in early twenty-century forms of
vitalism, and later on, to the behaviour of symbols, discourses and
texts, in which any consideration of material or energetic factors
was completly lost. Today, thanks in part to the new theories of
self-organization that have revealed the potential complexity of
behaviour of even the humbler forms of matter-energy, we are
begining to recover a certain philosophical respect for the inherent
morphogenetic potential of all materials. And we may now be in a
position to think about the origin of form and structure, not as
something imposed from the outside on an inert matter, not as a
hierarchical command from above as in an assembly line, but as
something that may come from within the materials, a form that we
tease out of those materials as we allow them to have their say in
the structures we create.
References:
1) Cyril Stanley
Smith. Matter Versus Materials: A Historical View. In A Search for
Structure. (MIT Press, 1992). p. 115 2) ibid. p.115 3) ibid.
p. 120 and 121 4) James Edward Gordon. The Science of Structures
and Materials. (Scientific American Library, 1988). p. 18 5)
ibid. p. 21 and 22 6) ibid p. 3 7) ibid. p. 111 8) D.
Walgraef. Pattern Selection and Symmetry Competition in Materials
Instabilities. In New Trends in Nonlinear Dynamics and
Pattern-Forming Phenomena. Pierre Coullet and Patrick Huerre eds.
(Plenum Press 1990). p. 26 9) Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari.
A Thousand Plateaus. (University of Minnesota Press, 1980) p. 409
10) James Edward Gordon. op. cit. p. 135 11) ibid. p. 200
12) Cyril Stanley Smith. ibid p. 313
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