Lightning Under the Hood: Part Three - From Cell Phones to Sports Cars

by L E Carmichael

Part One - Riker's Race

Part Two - The Battery Revolution

The Chevy Volt - a plug-in hybrid electric vehicle

Remember those brick-sized cell phones from movies in the 1980s? Lithium batteries are the reason we're no longer carrying them. They're also what make laptops, iPads, and MP3 players possible.

Lithium is the first metal on the periodic table, and it's 30 times lighter than lead. That also makes it a good candidate for electric car batteries, which have to pack maximum power into the lightest possible package.

As far as we know, lithium was first used in a battery in 1907, by Thomas Edison. His patent application claimed that 2 grams of lithium hydroxide in every 100 mL of electrolyte improved battery capacity by 10% and dramatically extended battery life.

It was a long time, however, before lithium batteries - Li-ION as they are usually known - could be used to power something as big and demanding as a vehicle. One of the reasons was safety. If the batteries overheat, elemental lithium can combine with water and oxygen in a reaction called "thermal runaway." This causes the battery to burst into flames.

The problem's been recognized since the 1970s, when researchers at Exxon were developing watch batteries using lithium chemistry. Their experiments were so dangerous, the fire department eventually threatened to bill the scientists for the costs involved in putting out the fires! Thermal runaway was vividly illustrated in 2011, when a plug-in hybrid electric vehicle – the Chevy Volt – caught fire several days after crash testing. As Chevy officials correctly pointed out, however, proper battery-handling protocols were ignored following the tests; in the real world, there's far less risk involved with a car powered by lithium batteries than “in carting around 15 gallons of highly flammable [gasoline].” 

An all-electric Tesla plugged in to recharge

Although scientists are still working towards newer and better variations in lithium battery chemistry, there's no denying their amazing energy potential. Martin Eberhard, cofounder of the electric sports-car company Tesla, says that for him there was never any doubt. “Lithium-ion batteries were at the top of my mind,” Eberhard says, “because in my rough calculations, you could actually fit enough batteries into a car to make a meaningful car.”

The battery pack in a Tesla Roadster contains 6,831 individual battery cells and weighs 990 pounds. That's about 200 pounds more than the lead-acid batteries in Riker's 1896 Electric Trap.  Riker's car, however, had a top speed of around 24 miles per hour, and a maximum range of around 40 miles. The Roadster's maximum speed is 125 miles per hour (artificially restricted for legal reasons), and it can travel 245 miles before it has to be recharged. Those results could never have been achieved without lithium batteries, which, by the way, are non-toxic and 60% recyclable.

They might not run on Mr. Fusion, but the cars of the future are definitely here.  Andrew Riker would probably wonder why the heck the future took so long.

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Check out the Chevy Volt, the Nissan Leaf, and Tesla Motors for more information on electric cars available for purchase today.

Lightning Under the Hood: Part Two - The Battery Revolution

by L E Carmichael

Part One - Riker's Race

Every battery has the same basic components: the anode (negative electrode); the cathode (positive electrode); and the electrolyte. There's also a separator, which prevents electrons from traveling directly from anode to cathode within the battery chamber. Instead, they exit through a wire, traveling through a lightbulb or electric motor before re-entering the battery. According to legend, when Raymond Gaston Planté invented the first battery in 1860, he used a separator made from his wife's petticoat! 

Raymond Gaston Planté

Its lacier components notwithstanding, Planté's lead-acid battery was a major breakthrough. A writer in the June 11, 1881 edition of the New York Times said, “It is quite possible that the man who has taught us to put up electricity in bottles has accomplished greater things than any inventor who has yet appeared.”

As a power source for electric vehicles, however, early batteries had some problems. Because the electrolytes were liquid, they sometimes froze in cold weather (a problem Canadian drivers still struggle with!). Hot weather was just as bad, because the water portion of the electrolyte evaporated. This meant drivers had to "top up" their batteries on a regular basis. Charles Duryea (whose gas-powered cars lost to Andrew Riker in the 1896 race) once told The Horseless Age that “A set of batteries [is] worse to take care of than a hospital full of sick dogs.”

Planté's battery

Changes to battery housings have addressed a lot of these problems, as did the invention of the block heater!  Today's gasoline-powered cars still use Planté's lead-acid batteries as starting batteries, and they were the energy source of choice for hybrids and electrics for decades. After all, lead-acid batteries are cheap and durable.  However, there's not a lot of power relative to weight.  To address this problem, scientists had to tackle the guts of the battery - the chemical reactions that produced the flow of electrons.

One alternative chemistry that seemed promising involved replacing lead with another metal, nickel.  Nickel-cadmium batteries (NiCAD) had better energy density, which meant vehicles could be driven farther and faster before having to be recharged.  However, NiCAD batteries are highly toxic and difficult to recycle. They also have what's known as memory: if NiCADs are repeatedly discharged half-way, then recharged, they eventually "remember" this partial state of charge.  As a result, the battery's full capacity can no longer be used.

Charles Duryea

Nickel metal hydride (NiMH) batteries are less toxic and less prone to memory issues. However, they're also more expensive and take longer to recharge.  Before alternative vehicles could really start competing with gas-guzzlers, a completely new battery would have to be invented. But the key breakthrough had nothing to do with cars, and everything to do with portable electronics. 

Stay tuned for the final installment - From Cell Phones to Sports Cars! 

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For more information on battery chemistry, check out Battery University.

Lightning Under the Hood: Part One - Riker's Race

by L E Carmichael

Andrew L. Riker

It's September 7, 1896, at Narragansett Park in Rhode Island. The first car race ever held on a track in North America is about to begin.  These newfangled horseless carriages are the biggest draw of the State Fair, and 50,000 people have crowed around the mile-long dirt oval to see them compete.

The starter cries, "Now go, if you can!" and seven drivers throw their vehicles into gear.   At once, Andrew Riker pulls into the lead, literally leaving his competitors in the dust.  He blazes around the track at a shocking 24 miles per hour and comes "dashing over the finish line, his body bent forward as though holding the reigns over some spirited steed."  As the car Riker invented rolls to a stop, the cheering crowd rushes forward for a closer look.

That car, by the way?  It hasn't got a gas tank.

The Riker Electric Trap has leather seats and wheels that are spoked, like a bicycle's.  It weighs 1500 pounds, more than half of which come from the lead-acid battery pack.  At a speed of ten miles per hour, it can travel for four hours before the batteries need to be recharged.  The car starts with the flick of a switch, runs quietly, doesn't rattle its passengers, and produces no noxious exhaust.  And thanks in part to this race, it's about to launch Riker's career as a successful automaker, respected inventor, and the very first president of the Society of Automotive Engineers.

The 1896 Riker Electric Trap

Due to a fire that destroyed most of his personal papers in 1900, we have few first-hand records of Riker's thoughts on cars in general and his own experiments in particular.  We do know, however, that he believed electric cars were lacking something special - a battery "capable of deep discharges, but still not of excessive weight, and this requires some special type of battery."  Despite serious effort, no one in Riker's day - not even Thomas Edison - could crack the battery problem.  Electric cars, despite supporters including the King of Siam and Clara Ford (wife of Henry), were replaced with the faster, cheaper internal combustion vehicles almost everyone drives today.

Thanks to rising gas prices, air pollution, and climate change, however, there's more interest in electric vehicles today than there's been since the 1920s.  And thanks to some major battery breakthroughs, they might just replace gasoline cars - before we run out of oil.

Stay tuned for Part 2 - The Battery Revolution!


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You can find more information about Andrew Riker and his vehicles here.  More details on the Narragansett race are available in volume 1(11) of The Horseless Age, and in the September 19 and September 26 issues of Scientific American (1896).

What Really Counts

Ever have that feeling of too many coincidences? As though life is trying to teach you a lesson, and the same question comes up over and over again until you learn it? This has happened to me this past month; time and time again, the question “what really counts?” keeps rearing its head.

It started with an incident in my teenager’s English class. He gave an oral presentation about a historical novel, which happened to be – with the teacher’s permission – a romance. Of the steamy variety, with plenty of heaving breasts and burning britches. The teacher said his presentation was “brilliant,” filled with hilarious metaphors laced with innuendo that communicated the book’s flavour, but he also gave it a low grade because the innuendo was “inappropriate.” It was the dichotomy in the teacher’s reaction – his high opinion of the presenter’s abilities coupled with a low grade – that made me ponder. What message does this leave the student about what really counts? Competent, or even innovative, use of words to communicate effectively? No. Social conformity? Perhaps.

A week later, what really counts in science class, as opposed to English class, came up in discussion with a group of high school science teachers in Alberta. When I asked them what really matters, what they wanted their students to graduate high school with, they said lofty things: an appreciation of nature; a desire to learn about their world; an understanding of how to analyze, reason, use deductive logic; an ability to assess evidence and conclusions presented in media; and, good citizenship. What are science students tested on, however? Largely facts. Science teachers and science students alike are left to figure out for themselves what really counts.

The question of how much school itself counts was raised for me a couple of years ago when I wrote Edison’s Concrete Piano. Many of the sixteen great inventors I studied did not have regular schooling. Edison and Einstein’s difficulties fitting the education mold are relatively well known. Buckminster Fuller was the same. But many other greats also had irregular schooling because they were ill (e.g., James Watt and Nikola Tesla) or because they were homeschooled (e.g., Danny Hillis). I always thought the lack of school aided success because they managed to avoid some negative influence, but a new friend suggested what really counted towards these inventors' success was what they were gaining, not avoiding, by staying at home – such as countless hours tinkering in the garage.

The question of what really counts got personal the other day when I inadvertently heard that a co-worker was being paid more than me for similar work. Now, the day before, I was perfectly content with my pay rate, so it wasn’t the money that mattered. It all turned out to be a mistake but not before I realized just how much it matters to me that I am respected by others. Maybe too much.

But the biggest question about what really counts came with the privilege of spending a few hours with a colleague recently diagnosed with stage four cancer. The world seen through her eyes, even just a peek of it, gives a clear, lasting view of what matters. And it isn’t grades or grading, how much money we make, or even how much we are respected. It is how we take care of ourselves, and how positive a force we are in the lives of others. And, perhaps most acutely, it is the wonder of our existence as we interact with our Earth. It is the glint of sun on a frosted windshield and the ardent pink of an Echinacea petal. It is the soft divot at the edge of a smile, the air rushing in and out of our nostrils, and the thousands of other exquisite experiences we take for granted each and every day.