Millions from Waste

by Frederick Arthur Ambrose Talbot

The British nation is a big consumer of soap. Supplies of animal fat could never keep pace with the demand for this commodity. So the vegetable kingdom was compelled to pay fat tribute to the soap-maker, the coco-nut, palm-kernel, and other exotic nut products furnishing the requisite oil expressed from the fleshy parts of their distinctive fruits. Then the harvests of the sea were found able to contribute impressive supplies of oils. These were likewise impressed into service.

While the soap-maker was busily engaged in his task another chemical wizard arose. He had discovered a means of hardening or solidifying fish oils, which naturally are fluid except at very low temperatures. This was a sensational discovery. Hydrogen was the agent which achieved the apparently impossible, but it did far more than merely to harden the oil. By harnessing the gas to this duty the peculiarly pungent aroma, and distinctive taste of the fish, is completely removed from the oil.

This scientific achievement brought a further levy of waste into industry. The refuse from whales which had hitherto been permitted to rot, the inedible portions of fish from the canneries, even glut catches of oil-yielding fish for which no profitable market could be found, were treated to secure the oleaginous product, which was subsequently hardened and then turned over to the margarine industry. The hydrogenated fish oil has been found to furnish an excellent butter substitute, and one so closely allied to the genuine article in every essential respect as to demand the evolution of new and more exacting methods to determine its actual origin. It offers the closest approach to butter by synthetic agency which has ever been accomplished up to this time.

The striking improvements recorded in the process and manufacture of margarine arrested the attention of the soap-maker. He reflected. Here he was receiving fats of every description to turn them into a product which only realized 4d.—8 cents—a pound. Yet he could take much of that self-same raw material, and by submitting it to another treatment he could produce an article which, as a foodstuff, was worth 1s.—25 cents—a pound. Why should he trouble to turn the fat into soap when he could derive three times the money by transforming it into an article of diet?

The war provided him with the opportunity for which he had been waiting patiently. The deficiency in butter supplies had to be remedied with margarine, which the public would have to accept willy-nilly. So the soap-maker switched over all the fresh sound fats from the soap-pans to the margarine mill. To-day thousands of tons of fats which five years ago would have been reduced to soap, this being considered as the only remaining utilization for the waste, is being turned into a food. The table has triumphed over the bath.

The devout worshippers at the feet of Hygeia may lament this inversion. But they need not despair. The world is not destined to go short of soap. Two British chemists, as a result of deep thinking, decided to attack the soap manufacturing issue de novo. They were not disposed to accept, at their face value, all that the textbooks set forth concerning the chemistry of soap. They were rather impressed by the fact that the manufacture of soap had undergone no fundamental change since the first cake was placed upon the market, which was during the days when Pepys was walking among us taking notes. So far as soap chemistry theories prevailed the two chemists in question were Bolshevic in their attitude towards them, which was a fortunate circumstance.

A cake of soap is as familiar as a loaf of bread. Yet how little do we know about it, despite the brain-power which has been crowded upon its preparation. As a cleansing agent it is without a rival. Many big industries would have to close their mills to-morrow were their supplies of soap cut off. Yet its composition is very simple. It is composed of only two basic ingredients—fat, from which the glycerine has been extracted, and caustic soda. No matter how much you may pay for the article, be it a penny or half-a-crown a tablet, analyse it, and you will find that there is the soda which achieves the cleansing effect, and the fat which gives the lather. It is quite possible a variety of other substances may be found associated with the two basic constituents, such as diatomaceous earth, Fuller’s earth, farina, traces of disinfectant, colouring matter, cereal grains, perfume, and even water. But beyond rendering the soap attractive to the eye, pleasant to the nose, or to a certain degree germicidal, these additional materials perform no useful purpose. They are described as fillers, but in more candid language may be set down, for the most part, as sheer adulterants. Few articles lend themselves so readily to adulteration as soap. Was it not an analyst who, in the courts, described a piece of soap submitted to him for investigation as a striking example of water standing upright!

Although we profess to know so much about soap and its properties, we are really labouring in ignorance. No chemist can tell you explicitly whether the cleansing action exercised is the result of chemical, physical, or mechanical action. It is one of those questions which the seeker after truth had better not press home too energetically, because the man of brains would probably retort firmly, but gently, that the interrogation involves such a complex reply as to be beyond your powers of comprehension.

In our resolve to respect Hygeia we are most liberal in our use of soap. We are even woefully extravagant, although the blame cannot be laid upon the shoulders of the user. The water is the criminal. Did it but rigidly adhere to the chemical formula of its composition, namely H₂O, all would be well, but unfortunately it is associated with certain salts which it picks up from the soil during its natural movement. Water appears to exercise a bewitching fancy for two salts in particular—lime and magnesia. It is the presence of these salts which renders our water hard. I might mention that there are other impurities in the water contributing to wastage of soap, but the two mentioned are the worst offenders in this respect.

Lime and magnesia have a remarkable affinity for fat, and until their amorous inclination is satiated the soap cannot possibly settle down to the duty for which it is employed. The moment the soap enters the water a chemical reaction occurs, the lime or magnesia, perhaps both, attracting the particles of fat until it is impossible for another molecule to be taken up. The extent of this attraction of the salts for the fat, and which the latter can no more resist than can iron filings battle against the drawing power of the magnet, may be gathered from the state of affairs prevailing in regard to the London water. The particles of lime contained in every 1,000 gallons of water attract approximately 15 pounds of fat contained in the soap before permitting the latter to lather. Seeing that fat enters into the composition of the average soap to the extent of approximately 60 per cent., it will be seen that about 25 per cent. of the fatty content of the soap is put out of action without performing any useful work.