http://gizmodo.com/what-is-concrete-1721627320
The
most popular artificial material on Earth isn’t steel, plastic, or
aluminum — it’s concrete. Thousands of years ago, we used it to build
civilizations, but then our knowledge of how to make it was lost. Here’s
how we discovered concrete, forgot it, and then finally cracked the
mystery of what makes it so strong.
When we
think concrete, we usually picture white pavements, swimming pools, and
building foundations. Most of us aren’t aware of concrete’s fiery
volcanic origin story, or that concrete is a $100 billion dollar
industry. In fact, it’s the most widely-used material on our planet
after water. Ton for ton, humans use more concrete today than steel,
wood, plastics, and aluminum combined.
Liquid Stone
Unlike aluminum, steel or plastic, the word ‘concrete’ doesn’t
refer to a single material. It can be any number of substances that
combine rocks or gravel with some kind of adhesive material.
Basically,
concrete is just a bunch of rubble mixed with water and cement.
Together, these ingredients form rocky jello that can be poured into a
mold and shaped into whatever the heck you like. Liquid stone, it’s
sometimes called. We take it for granted today, but in ancient times,
when people were literally hand-carving buildings out of giant slabs of
rock, you can bet your bricks a material like concrete would’ve seemed
downright magical.
There’s
evidence that humans have been tinkering with concrete for thousands of
years. But it was the Romans who really mastered the craft, and they
probably learned about it from volcanoes.
Born in a Fiery Volcano
The Colosseum, a famous Roman concrete structure, via Wikimedia
Over two
thousand years ago, at the height of the Roman empire, the port city of
Pozzuoli was a buzzing center of military activity and commerce. Every
day, ships left Pozzuoli laden with useful goods, including grains,
iron, weapons, and pozzolana, an ashy volcanic sand formed in the nearby supervolcano Campi Flegrei.
Why were
the Romans exporting volcanic spew to the far corners of the known
world? It so happens that this sand was special. Mix it with water, and
it would form a mortar strong enough to bind lumps of rock together into
an impenetrable, load-bearing material. As Roman philosopher Seneca
noted, the “dust at Puteoli [the city’s Latin name] becomes stone if it
touches water.” Nobody knew why.
By sheer luck, the Romans had built a city atop a natural cement factory. Turns out, pozzolana
is a mixture of silica oxides and lime, two of the three key
ingredients in cement (the third being water). It wasn’t until this year
that a Stanford geochemist worked out how this unusual ash forms.
The deep
interior of Campi Flegrei’s caldera is padded in limestone, a soft,
crumbly rock composed of calcium carbonate (CaCO3). As
geothermally-heated water washes over the caldera’s limestone walls, it
triggers a decarbonation reaction, releasing CO2 gas and leaving behind
calcium hydroxide, otherwise known as hydrated lime. Here’s the reaction
describing that process:
CaCO3 (limestone) + heat + H2O > Ca(OH)2 + CO2
Circulating
geothermal fluids inside Campi Flegrei bring some of this lime closer
to the surface, where it combines with silica-rich ash to form an
impenetrable, cement-like caprock. But eventually, enough pressure
builds up inside the volcano that this caprock bends and breaks. When
that happens, the same cement-forming ingredients spew skyward, as pozzolana ash.
Geochemist Tiziana Vanorio suspects the ancient Romans first watched pozzolana
hardening into cement in the seawater surrounding Campi Flegrei. They
co-opted the natural process, mixing in small chunks of pumice — a
porous volcanic rock that forms when superheated magma is quickly
cooled. And just like that, Roman concrete was born. It became an iconic
building material of the ancient world, and it’s the reason many Roman
structures, including the Colosseum and the Parthenon, have survived to
the present day.
After the
fall of the Roman empire, the art of concrete-making was all but
forgotten. It gradually returned centuries later, but didn’t become
widespread again until 1824, when Joseph Aspdin developed and patented Portland cement.
The main
ingredient in Aspdin’s cement? Calcium silicates, formed by heating
limestone and silica-rich clays in an oven to roughly 1,100ºF. Just as
Campi Flegrei had been doing for thousands of years.
Modern Varieties
Today,
Portland cement is quite literally the glue that holds the world
together, forming the basis of concrete, mortar, stucco and grout. The
main post-Roman Empire innovation was the addition of aluminum and iron
oxides, which add strength and allow the calcium silicates to form at
lower temperatures.
Here’s a
general recipe for Portland clinker (the dried, powdery version of
cement). Proportions vary by application, depending on the desired
material properties of the cement.
Cement | CCN | Mass % |
---|---|---|
Calcium oxide, CaO | C | 61–67% |
Silicon dioxide, SiO2 | S | 19–23% |
Aluminum oxide, Al2O3 | A | 2.5–6% |
Ferric oxide, Fe2O3 | F | 0–6% |
Sulfate | S̅ | 1.5–4.5% |
CCN = Cement chemist’s notation. Via Wikipedia
But
remember! Concrete isn’t just cement. This is where things get a bit
complicated. In modern times, we’ve discovered a plethora of additives
that can be useful depending on whether you’re trying to build a highway
overpass, a dam, a reservoir, a runway, a boat, or a building. There
are additives that increase concrete’s electrical conductivity,
strength, ductility, and resistance to acid corrosion. There are
chemical retardants that slow concrete’s hydration, accelerators that
speed it up, and plasticizers that increase its workability. There are
corrosion inhibitors. There are pigments. There are decorative stones
and seashells.
Concrete is
actually a fucking mess. I’ll spare you the encyclopedic details and
just touch on a few important, interesting, and futuristic varieties
that I think are worth knowing.
Reinforced Concrete
Concrete pilings with steel reinforcement. Image via Shutterstock
Concrete
has high compressive strength, meaning it can hold a lot of weight
without getting crushed. This makes it an excellent material for
building and road foundations. But concrete gets bad marks for tensile
strength. If it bends, it cracks. This is no bueno for bridges,
beams and columns. To improve concrete’s ductility, we add steel bars,
glass or plastic fibers before it sets. This is called reinforced concrete.
The Romans kinda figured this one out too. They used to add horse hair to concrete to keep it from cracking while hardening.
Reinforced concrete tie beams between capitals of piers, Brisbane. Image via Wikimedia
The
Philips Pavilion, a World’s Fair pavilion designed for Expo ‘58 in
Brussels, was made possible by reinforced concrete. Image via Wouter
Hagens / Wikimedia
Pervious Concrete
A pervious concrete parking lot being installed in Chicago. Image via Flickr
Most
concretes form an impervious surface, meaning water hits ‘em and runs
right off. Pervious concrete, also known as porous pavement, does the
opposite— its larger particles allow precipitation to seep all the way
through to the ground. This is actually a great idea, because impervious
surfaces cause urban flooding and contribute to stormwater pollution.
In the future, pervious concrete is going to become an important part of
the sustainable infrastructure landscape.
Nano Concrete
When you
mix cement, sand, and water at high energies, particles start flying
around super fast, colliding with each other and shearing apart.
Eventually, you’re left with a mixture of tiny, nanoscale grains. This
is called nanoconcrete. Thanks to its very small particle size,
nanoconcrete has a high surface area to volume ratio, which allows it
to absorb a lot more water than regular concrete. More water means a
fluffier, lighter material that can be used to cast small architectural
details and decorative items, such as this lovely plate:
Decorative plate made of nanoconcrete. Image via Wikimedia
Nanoconcrete isn’t widely used today, but it’s interesting from an economic and environmental perspective.
Hydrating the heck out of concrete allows you to stretch the material
further, which ultimately reduces the per-capita carbon emissions (the
heating process involved in calcium silicate production represents a
whopping 7% of our global CO2 emissions). Hey, as long as it doesn’t
crumble apart, sounds swell to me.
Microbial Concrete
Diatoms
are one of the prettiest examples of biomineralization in action,
precipitating glassy exoskeletons around their tiny bodies. Image via
Wikimedia
This is definitely my favorite type of concrete, and possibly one of the coolest materials ever imagined. Certain bacteria, including Bacillus pasteurii, Bacillus pseudofirmus, and Arthrobacter crystallopoietes actively precipitate crystals around their cells in a process known as biomineralization.
Along with
sugar and protein secretions, these minerals form a strong and sticky
glue. A few years back, some clever scientists got it in their heads
that biomineralizing microbes might help us build stronger, more
corrosion-resistant, perhaps even self-healing concrete.
So far, research results seem promising. If this technology ends up taking off, the infrastructure of the future might literally be alive.
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