A Dash of Science, Social Media and VARD

Yesterday I recorded a podcast with Matthew Lee Loftus (from The Credible Hulk) and Christopher El Sergio for A Dash of Science, all about science communication and social media. It was a brilliant chat – I won’t go into lots of details of what we covered, but if you’d like to hear it (you know you do!) the direct link is: Communicating Science on Social Media. You can also pick it up on iTunes and/or Tune In.

After our conversation ended I remembered something I developed little while ago, after marking a particularly infuriating research homework where a quarter of the class wrote down that Mendeleev was awarded a Nobel prize for his work on the Periodic Table. For the record: he never received the honour. He was recommended for the prize but famously (at least, I thought it was famously!) the 1906 prize was given to Henri Moissan instead, probably due to a grudge held by Svante Arrhenius of Arrhenius Equation fame (it’s a good story, check it out).

Mendeleev was never awarded a Nobel prize.

Does it really matter if a few students believe that Mendeleev won a Nobel prize? That’s not really harming anyone, is it? Maybe not, but on the other hand, perhaps it’s part of a long and slippery slope greased with ‘alternative facts’ which is leading us to, well, shall we say, situations and decisions that may not be in our best interests as a society.

How to encourage students to do at least a little bit of fact-checking? Of course, you could produce a long list of Things That One Should Do to check information, but I reasoned that while students might read such a list, and even agree with the principles, they were unlikely to get into the habit of applying them and probably quite likely to immediately forget all about it.

Instead I tried to come up with something short, simple and memorable, and here it is (feel free to share this):

Fact-checking isn’t easy; it’s VARD

The four points I focused on spell out VARD, which stands for…


V is for verify, which means: can you find other sources saying the same thing? Now, chances are, you can always find something that agrees with a particular piece of information, if you look hard enough. There are plenty of sites out there that will tell you that lemons ‘alkalise’ the body, for example (they don’t), that it’s safe to eat apricot kernels (it’s not) and that black salve is an effective treatment for skin cancer (nope).

However, if you’re reasonably open-minded when you start, chances are good that you’ll find both sides of the ‘story’ and that will, at the very least, get you thinking about which version is more trustworthy.


A is for author. I often hear swathes of content being disparaged purely based on its nature. You know the sort of thing: “that’s just a blog,” or “you can’t trust newspaper articles”. I think this is wrong-headed. What matters more is who wrote that piece and what are their qualifications? I’d argue that a blog post about medical issues written by a medical doctor (for example, virtually anything on the marvellous Science Based Medicine) is likely to be a pretty reliable source. Conversely, there’s been more than one thing that’s made it into the scientific literature which has later turned out to be flawed or even flat false (such as Wakefield’s famous 1998 paper). It’s also worth asking what someone’s background is: Stephanie Seneff, for example, is highly qualified in the fields of artificial intelligence and computer science, but does that mean we should trust her controversial opinions in biology and medicine? Probably not.

You may not always be able to tell who the author is, or have time to dig into their motivations, but it’s nevertheless a good question to keep in the back of your mind.


Be honest: is that story really likely? Or is it just shocking?

R is for reasonableness. Which is a pain to spell or even say, but it’s important so I’m sticking with it. It’s a sense-check. Human beings love a good story, and the best stories have unexpected twists and turns. That’s why medical scare-stories pop up in newspapers with such depressing regularity. No, ketchup isn’t giving you cancer. No, our children really aren’t being poisoned by plastics. But the truth doesn’t always make a good headline. In fact, when it comes to science, the more some ‘exciting finding’ is plastered over news sites, the less you should probably trust it – because the chances are that the exciting version being reported bears almost no resemblance to the researchers’ original conculsions.

Be honest and ask yourself: does this really seem likely? Or would I just like it to be true because it’s a great story?


If a surprising story has just appeared, give it twenty-four hours – chances are if there are major issues with the information someone else will come forward.

D is for date. The obvious situation is when information is so old that it’s been superseded by something else. This is easy: just look for something more recent. However, the other side of this coin is probably more relevant in these days of rolling news and instant sharing of articles: something can blow up at short notice, especially something topical, and it later turns out that not all the facts were known. Take, for example, the famous green swimming pools in the 2016 Olympics, which more than one writer attributed to copper salts in the pool water before the full facts were revealed a few days later. Inevitably, the ‘corrected’ version is far less interesting than the earlier speculation, and so that’s what everyone remembers.

If something controversial and shocking has just appeared, give it twenty-four hours. If there’s something terribly wrong with it, chances are someone will pick up on it in that time.

It’s not easy; it’s VARD

And that’s it: Verify, Author, Reasonableness, Date. It doesn’t cover every eventuality, but if you keep these points in the back of your mind it will definitely help you to separate the ‘probably true’ from the ‘almost certainly bollocks’.

Good luck out there!

Now why not go and listen to that podcast 🙂

Like the Chronicle Flask’s Facebook page for regular updates, or follow @chronicleflask on Twitter. All content is © Kat Day 2018. You may share or link to anything here, but you must reference this site if you do.

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Chemical du jour: how bad is BPA, really?

BPA is an additive in many plastics

When I was writing my summary of 2017 I said that there would, very probably, be some sort of food health scare at the start of 2018. It’s the natural order of things: first we eat and drink the calorie requirement of a small blue whale over Christmas and New Year, and then, lo, we must be made to suffer the guilt in January. By Easter, of course, it’s all forgotten and we can cheerfully stuff ourselves with chocolate eggs.

Last year it was crispy potatoes, and the year before that it was something ridiculous about sugar in ketchup causing cancer (it’s the same sugar that’s in everything, why ketchup? Why?). This year, though, it seems that the nasty chemical of the day is not something that’s in our food so much as around it.

Because this year the villain of the piece appears to be BPA, otherwise known as Bisphenol A or, to give it its IUPAC name, 4,4′-(propane-2,2-diyl)diphenol.

BPA is an additive in plastics. At the end of last year an excellent documentary aired on the BBC called Blue Planet II, all about our planet’s oceans. It featured amazing, jaw-dropping footage of wildlife. It also featured some extremely shocking images of plastic waste, and the harm it causes.

Plastic waste is a serious problem

Plastic waste, particularly plastic waste which is improperly disposed of and consequently ends up in the wrong place, is indisputably something that needs to be addressed. But this highlighting of the plastic waste problem had an unintended consequence: where was the story going to go? Everyone is writing about how plastic is bad, went (I imagine) editorial meetings in offices around the country – find me a story showing that plastic is even WORSE than we thought!

Really, it was inevitable that a ‘not only is plastic bad for the environment, but it’s bad for you, too!’ theme was going to emerge. It started, sort of, with a headline in The Sun newspaper: “Shopping receipts could ‘increase your cancer risk’ – as 93% contain dangerous chemicals also linked to infertility. Shopping receipts are, of course, not made of plastic – but the article’s sub-heading stated that “BPA is used to make plastics”, so the implication was clear enough.

Then the rather confusing: “Plastic chemical linked to male infertility in majority of teenagers, study suggests” appeared in The Telegraph (more on this in a bit), and the whole thing exploded. Search for BPA in Google News now and there is everything from “5 Ways to Reduce Your Exposure to Toxic BPA” to “gender-bending chemicals found in plastic and linked to breast and prostate cancer are found in 86% of teenagers”.

Yikes. It’s all quite scary. It’s true that right now you can’t really avoid plastic. Look around you and it’s likely that you’ll immediately see lots of plastic objects, and that’s before you even try to consider all the everyday things which have plastic coatings that aren’t immediately obvious. If you have young children, you’re probably drowning in plastic toys, cups, plates and bottles. We’re pretty much touching plastic continually throughout our day. How concerned should we be?

As the Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy says, Don’t Panic. Plastic (like planet Earth in the Guide) can probably be summed up as mostly harmless, at least from a BPA point of view if not an environmental one.

BPA is a rather pleasingly symmetrical molecule with two phenol groups. (A big model of this would make a wonderfully ironic pair of sunglasses, wouldn’t it?) It was first synthesized by the Russian chemist Alexander Dianin in the late 19th century. It’s made by reacting acetone – which is where the “A” in the name comes from – with two phenol molecules. It’s actually a very simple reaction, although the product does need to be carefully purified, since large amounts of phenol are used to ensure a good yield.

It’s been used commercially since the fifties, and millions of tonnes of BPA are now produced worldwide each year. BPA is used to make plastics which are clear and tough – two characteristics which are often valued, especially for things like waterproof coatings, bottles and food containers.

The concern is that BPA is an endocrine disruptor, meaning that it interferes with hormone systems. In particular, it’s a known xenoestrogen, in other words it mimics the female hormone estrogen. Animal studies have suggested possible links to certain cancers, infertility, neurological problems and other diseases. A lot of the work is fairly small-scale and, as I’ve mentioned, focused on animal studies (rather than looking directly at effects in humans). Where humans have been studied it’s usually been populations that are exposed to especially high BPA levels (epoxy resin painters, for example). Still, it builds up into quite a damning picture.

BPA has been banned from baby bottles in many countries, including the USA and Europe

Of course, we don’t normally eat plastic, but BPA can leach from the plastic into the food or drink that’s in the plastic, and much more so if the plastic is heated. Because of these concerns, BPA has been banned from baby bottles (which tend to be heated, both for sterilisation and to warm the milk) in several countries, including the whole of Europe, for some years now. “BPA free” labels are a fairly common sight on baby products these days. BPA might also get onto our skin from, for example, those thermal paper receipts The Sun article mentioned, and then into our mouths when we eat. Our bodies break down and excrete the chemical fairly quickly, in as little as 6 hours, but because it’s so common in our environment most of us are continually meeting new sources of it.

How much are we getting, though? This is a critical question, because as I’m forever saying, the dose makes the poison. Arsenic is a deadly poison at high levels, but most of us – were we to undergo some sort of very sensitive test – would probably find we have traces of it in our systems, because it’s a naturally-occuring mineral. It’s nothing to worry about, unless for some reason the levels become too high.

When it comes to BPA, different countries have different guidelines. The European Food Safety Authority recommended in January 2015 that the TDI (tolerable daily intake) should be reduced from 50 to 4 µg/kg body weight/day (there are plans for a new assessment in 2018, so it might change again). For a 75 kg adult, that translates to about 0.0003 g per day. A USA Federal Drug and Administration document from 2014 suggests a NOAEL (no-observed-adverse-effect-level) of 5 mg/kg bw/day, which translates to 0.375 g per day for the same 75 kg adult. NOAEL values are usually much higher than TDIs, so these two figures aren’t as incompatible as they might appear. Tolerable daily intake values tend to have a lot of additional “just in case” tossed into them – being rather more guidance than science.

The European Food Standards Authority published a detailed review of the evidence in 2015 (click for a summary)

So, how much BPA are we exposed to? I’m going to stick to Europe, because that’s where I’m based (for now…), and trying to look at all the different countries is horribly complicated. Besides, EFSA produced a really helpful executive summary of their findings in 2015, which makes it much easier to find the pertinent information.

The key points are these: most of our exposure comes from food. Infants, children and adolescents have the highest dietary exposures to BPA, probably because they eat and drink more per kilogram of body weight. The estimated average was 0.375 µg/kg bw per day.  For adult women the estimated average was 0.132 µg/kg bw per day, and for men it was 0.126 µg/kg bw per day.

When it came to thermal paper and other non-dietary exposure (mostly from dust, toys and cosmetics), the numbers were smaller, but the panel admitted there was a fair bit of uncertainty here. The total exposure from all sources was somewhere in the region of 1 µg/kg bw per day for all the age groups, with adolescents and young children edging more toward values of 1.5 µg/kg bw per day (this will be important in a minute).

Note that all of these numbers are significantly less than the, conservative, tolerable daily intake value of 4 µg/kg bw per day recommended by EFSA.

Here’s the important bit: the panel concluded that there is “no health concern for BPA at the estimated levels of exposure” as far as diet goes. They also said that this applied “to prenatally exposed children” (in other words, one less thing for pregnant women to worry about).

When it came to total exposure, i.e. diet and exposure from other sources such as thermal paper they concluded that “the health concern for BPA is low at the estimated levels of exposure”.

The factsheet that was published alongside the full document summarises the results as follows: “BPA poses no health risk to consumers because current exposure to the chemical is too low to cause harm.”

Like I said: Don’t Panic.

What about those frankly quite terrifying headlines? Well, firstly The Sun article was based on some work conducted on a grand total of 208 receipts collected in Southeast Michigan in the USA from only 39 unique business locations. That’s a pretty small sample and not, I’d suggest, perhaps terribly relevant to the readership of a British newspaper. Worse, the actual levels of BPA weren’t measured in the large majority of samples – they only tested to see if it was there, not how much was there. There was nothing conclusive at all to suggest that the levels in the receipts might be enough to “increase your cancer risk”. All in all, it was pretty meaningless. We already knew there was BPA in thermal receipt paper – no one was hiding that information (it’s literally in the second paragraph of the Wikipedia page on BPA).

The Telegraph article, and the many others it appeared to spawn, also weren’t based on especially rigorous work and, worse, totally misrepresented the findings in any case. Firstly, let’s consider that headline: “Plastic chemical linked to male infertility in majority of teenagers, study suggests”. What does that mean? Are they suggesting that teenagers are displaying infertility? No, of course not. They didn’t want to put “BPA” in the headline because that, apparently, would be too confusing for their readers. So instead they’ve replaced “BPA” with “plastic chemical linked to male infertility”, which is so much more straightforward, isn’t it?

And they don’t mean it’s linked to infertility in the majority of teenagers, they mean it’s linked to infertility and it’s in the majority of teenager’s bodies. I do appreciate that journalists rarely write headlines – this isn’t a criticism of the poor writer who turned in perfectly good copy – but that is confusing and misleading headline-writing of the highest order. Ugh.

Plus, as I commented back there, that wasn’t even the conclusion of the study, which was actually an experiment carried out by students under the supervision of a local university. The key finding was not that, horror, teenagers have BPA in their bodies. The researchers assumed that almost all of the teenagers would have BPA in their bodies – as the EFSA report showed, most people do. No, the conclusion was actually that the teenagers – 94 of them – had been unable to significantly reduce their levels of BPA by changing their diet and lifestyle. Although the paper admits the conditions weren’t well-controlled. Basically, they asked a group of 17-19 year-olds to avoid plastic, and worked on the basis that their account of doing so was accurate.

And how much did the teenagers have in their samples? The average was 1.22 ng/ml, in urine samples (ng = nanogram). Now, even if we assume that these levels apply to all human tissue (which they almost certainly don’t) and that therefore the students had roughly 1.22 ng per gram of body weight, that only translates to, very approximately, 1.22 micrograms (µg) per kilogram of body weight.

Wait a second… what did EFSA say again…. ah yes, they estimated total exposures of 1.449 µg/kg bw per day for adolescents.

Sooooo basically a very similar value, then? And the EFSA, after looking at multiple studies in painstaking detail, concluded that “BPA poses no health risk to consumers”.

Is this grounds for multiple hysterical, fear-mongering headlines? I really don’t think it is.

It is interesting that the teenagers were unable to reduce their BPA levels. Because it’s broken down and excreted quite quickly by the body, you might expect that reducing exposure would have a bigger effect – but really all we can say here is that this needs to be repeated with far more tightly-controlled conditions. Who knows what the students did, and didn’t, actually handle and eat. Perhaps their school environment contains high levels of BPA in dust for some reason (new buildings or equipment, maybe?), and so it was virtually impossible to avoid. Who knows.

In summary, despite the scary headlines there really is no need to worry too much about BPA from plastics or receipts. It may be worth avoiding heating plastic, since we know that increases the amound of BPA that makes its way into food – although it’s important to stress that there’s no evidence that microwaving plastic containers causes levels to be above safe limits. Still, if you wanted to be cautious you could choose to put food into a ceramic or glass bowl, covered with a plate rather than clingfilm. It’ll save you money on your clingfilm bills anyway, and it means less plastic waste, which is no bad thing.

Roll on Easter…

Like the Chronicle Flask’s Facebook page for regular updates, or follow @chronicleflask on Twitter. All content is © Kat Day 2018. You may share or link to anything here, but you must reference this site if you do.

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The Chronicles of the Chronicle Flask: 2017

We’ve made it! Not only to 2018 (which was starting to look doubtful earlier in the year), but also to the Chronicle Flask’s 100th post. Which doesn’t seem that many, really, but since posts on here frequently run to 1500 words, that adds up to a rather more impressive-sounding 150,000 words or so. I mean, that’s like… half a Brandon Sanderson novel. Oh.

Anyway, it’s time for a yearly round-up. Here goes!

Last January I began with a post about acrylamide. We’d all been enjoying lots of lovely crispy food over Christmas; it was time to tell us about the terrible dangers of such reckless indulgence. The newspapers were covered with pictures of delicious-looking chips, toast and roast potatoes alongside scary headlines such as:  “Crunchy toast could give you cancer, FSA warns”. The truth was not quite so dramatic. Acrylamide does form when foods are cooked to crispiness, and it is potentially harmful, but the quantities which form in food are tiny, and very unlikely to cause you any serious harm unless you literally live on nothing but burnt toast. The FSA (Food Standards Agency) hadn’t significantly revised their guidelines, it turned out, but were in fact only suggesting that the food industry should be mindful of acrylamide levels in food and seek to reduce them as much as possible. That wouldn’t have made for quite such a good “your food is going to killllll you!” story though, I suppose.

In February the spikey topic of vaccination came up. Again. Vaccines are awesome. They protect us from deadly diseases. No, I don’t want to hear any nonsense about “Big Pharma“, and I definitely don’t want to hear how “natural immunity” is better. It’s not. At best, it might provide a similar level of protection (but not in every case), but it comes with having to suffer through a horrible, dangerous disease, whereas vaccination doesn’t. It ought to be a no-brainer. Just vaccinate your kids. And yourself.

It was Red Nose Day in the UK in March, which brought some chemistry jokes. Turns out all the best ones aren’t gone, after all. Did you hear about the PhD student who accidentally cooled herself to absolute zero? She’s 0K now.

April brought a post which ought to have been an April Fool’s joke, but wasn’t. Sceptics often point out that homeopathy is just sugar and water, but the trouble is, sometimes, it’s not. There’s virtually no regulation of homeopathy. As far as I’ve been able to establish, no one tests homeopathic products; no one checks the dilutions. Since a lot of the starting materials are dangerously toxic substances such as arsenic, belladona, lead and hemlock, this ought to worry people more than it does. There has been more than one accidental poisoning (perhaps most shockingly, one involving baby teething products). It really is time this stuff was banned, maybe 2018 will be the year.

In May I turned to something which was to become a bit of a theme for 2017: alkaline water. It’s not so much that it doesn’t do anything (although it really doesn’t), more the fact that someone is charging a premium for a product which you could literally make yourself for pennies. It’s only a matter of dissolving a pinch of baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) in some water.

June brought a selection of periodic tables because, well, why not? This is a chemistry blog, after all! And now we’ve finally filled up period seven they do have a rather elegant completness. 2019, by the way, has just been announced as the International Year of the Periodic Table of Chemical Elements, to coincide with IUPAC’s 100th anniversary and the 150th anniversary of Mendeelev’s discovery of periodicity (his presentation, The Dependence Between the Properties of of the Atomic Weights of the Elements, was made on 6th March 1869). Looks like 2019 will be an exciting year for chemists!

In July it was back to the nonsense of alkaline diets again, when Robert O. Young was finally sentenced to 3 years, 8 months in custody for conning vulnerable cancer patients into giving him large sums of money for ineffective and dangerous treatments. Good. Moving on.

August brought me back to a post that I’d actually started earlier in the year when I went to a March for Science event in April. It was all about slime, and August seemed like a good time to finally finish it, with the school holidays in full swing – what could be more fun on a rainy day at home than making slime? Slime was a bit of a 2017 craze, and there have been a few stories featuring children with severely irritated skin. But is this likely to be caused by borax? Not really. Turns out it’s actually very safe. Laundry detergents in general, not so much. In short, if you want to make slime the traditional way with PVA glue and borax, fill your boots. (Not really – your parents will be uninpressed.)

In September it was back to quackery: black salve. A nasty, corrosive concoction which is sold as a cancer cure. It won’t cure your cancer. It will burn a nasty great big hole in your skin. Do not mess with this stuff.

October carried on in a similar vein, literally. This time with a piece about naturopaths recommending hydrogen peroxide IVs as a treatment for lots of things, not least – you guessed it – cancer. Yes, hydrogen peroxide. The stuff you used to bleach hair. Intraveneously. Argh.

The puking pumpkin!

The end of the month featured a far better use for hydrogen peroxide, that of the puking pumpkin. Definitely one to roll out if, for any reason, you ever find yourself having to demonstrate catalysis.

November brought us, somewhat unseasonally, to tomatoes. Where is the best place to store them? Fridge or windowsill? Turns out the answer involves more chemistry than you might have imagined.

And then, finally, December. Looking for a last-minute Christmas gift? Why not buy a case of blk water? I mean, other than it’s an exorbitantly priced bottle of mysterious black stuff which doesn’t do any of the things it claims to do, and might actually get its colour from coal deposits, that is.

And that, dear friends and followers, is it for 2017! Happy New Year! Remember to be sceptical when the inevitable “deadly food” story appears in a few weeks….

Like the Chronicle Flask’s Facebook page for regular updates, or follow @chronicleflask on Twitter. All content is © Kat Day 2018. You may share or link to anything here, but you must reference this site if you do.

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Just what is blk water, and should you drink it?

Christmas is almost here! Are you ready yet? Are you fed up with people asking if you’re ready yet? Have you worked out what to buy for Great-uncle Nigel, who says he neither needs nor wants anything? Always a tricky scenario, that. Consumables are often a safe fallback position. They don’t clutter up the house, and who doesn’t enjoy a nice box of luxury biscuits, or chocolates, or a bottle of champagne, or spirts, or a case of blk water.

Wait, what?

Yes, this mysterious product turned up in my feed a few weeks ago. It’s water (well, so they say), but it’s black. Actually black. Not just black because the bottle’s black, black because the liquid inside it is… black.

It’s black water.

A bit like… cola. Only blacker, and not fizzy, or sweet, or with any discernable flavour other than water.

It raises many questions, doesn’t it? Let’s start with why. Obviously it’s a great marketing gimmick. It definitely looks different. It also comes with a number of interesting claims. The suppliers claim it contains “no nasties” and “only 2 ingredients”, namely spring water and “Fulvic Minerals” (sic). (Hang on, I hear you say, if it’s minerals, plural, surely that’s already more than two ingredients? Oh, but that’s only the start. Stay with me.)

It claims to “balance pH levels” and help “to regulate our highly acidic diets”. Yes, well, I think I’ve covered that before. Absolutely nothing you drink, or eat, does anything to the pH in any part of your body except, possibly, your urine – where you might see a small difference under some circumstances (but even if you do it doesn’t tell you anything significant about the impact of your diet on your long-term health). And bear in mind that a few minutes after you drink any kind of alkaline water it mixes with stomach acid which has a pH of around 2. Honestly, none of that alkaline “goodness” makes it past your pyloric sphincter.

Finally, blk water apparently “replenishes electrolytes”. Hm. Electrolytes are important in the body. They’re ionic species, which means they can conduct electricity. Your muscles and neurons rely on electrical activity, so they are quite important. Like, life or death important. But because of that our bodies are quite good at regulating them, most of the time. If you run marathons in deserts, or get struck down with a nasty case of food poisoning, or have some kind of serious health condition (you’d know about it) you might need to think about electrolytes, but otherwise most of us get what we need from the food and drink we consume normally every day.

Besides which, didn’t they say “only 2 ingredients”? The most common electrolytes in the body are sodium, potassium, magnesium, chloride, hydrogen phosphate and hydrogen carbonate. Most spring waters do contain some, if not all, of these, in greater or smaller amounts, but it’s not going to be enough to effectively “replenish” any of them. If, say, you are running marathons in the desert, the advice is actually to keep a careful eye on your water intake because drinking too much water can dangerously lower your sodium levels. Yes, there are sports drinks that are specifically designed to help with this, but they taste of salt and sugar and/or flavourings which have been added in a desperate attempt to cover up the salty taste. This is apparently not the case with blk water which, to repeat myself, contains “only 2 ingredients”.

And, according to the blk website the drink contains “0 mg of sodium per 500ml” so… yeah.

Speaking of ingredients, what about those so-called fulvic minerals? Maybe they’re the source of those all-important electrolytes (but not sodium)? And maybe they’re magically tasteless, too?

And perhaps, like other magical objects and substances, they don’t actually exist – as geologist @geolizzy told me on Twitter when I asked.

It’s not looking good for blk water (£47.99 for a case of 24 bottles) at this point. But hang on. Perhaps when they said fulvic minerals, what they meant was fulvic acid – which is a thing, or possibly several things – in a the presence of oh, say, some bicarbonate (*cough* 2 ingredients *cough*).

That could push the pH up to the stated 8-9, and didn’t we learn in school that:
acid + alkali –> salt + water
and maybe, if we’re being generous, we could call the salts of fulvic acids minerals? It’s a bit shaky but… all right.

So what are fulvic acids?

That’s an interesting question. I had never heard of fulvic acids. They do, as it turns out, have a Wikipedia page (Wikipedia is usually very reliable for chemical information, since no one has yet been very interested in spoofing chemical pages to claim things like hydrochloric acid is extracted from the urine of pregnant unicorns) but the information wasn’t particularly enlightening. The page did inform me that fulvic acids are “components of the humus” (in soil) and are  “similar to humic acids, with differences being the carbon and oxygen contents, acidity, degree of polymerization, molecular weight, and color.” The Twitter hive-mind, as you can see, was sending me down the same path…

A typical example of a humic acid.

Next stop, humic acids. Now we’re getting somewhere. These are big molecules with several functional groups. The chemists out there will observe that, yes, they contain several carboxylic acid groups (the COOH / HOOC ones you can see in the example) so, yes, it makes sense they’d behave as acids.

“No nasties”, blk said. “Pure” they said. When you hear those sorts of things, do you imagine something like this is in your drink? Especially one that, let’s be clear, is a component of soil?

Oh, hang on, I should’ve checked the “blk explained” page on the blk water website. There’s a heading which actually says “what are Fulvic Minerals”, let’s see now…

“Fulvic minerals are plant matter derived from millions of years ago that have combined with fulvic acid forming rare fulvic mineral deposits. They deliver some of the most powerful electrolytes in the world.”

“Fulvic minerals contain 77 other trace minerals, most of which have an influence on the healthiness of our body. They are very high in alkaline and when sourced from the ground contain a pH of 9.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m not totally convinced. I mean, as @geolizzy says in her tweet here (excuse the minor typo, she means humic, not humid),  it sounds a bit like… water contaminated with hydrocarbon deposits?


And, by the way, the phrase “very high in alkaline” is utterly meaningless. Substances are alkaline, or they contain substances which are alkaline. “Alkaline” is not a thing in itself. This is like saying my tea is high in hot when sourced from the teapot.

There’s one more thing to add. So far this might sound a bit weird but… probably safe, right? What could be more wholesome than a bit of soil? Didn’t your granny tell you to eat a pinch of soil to boost your immune system, or something? At worst it’s harmless, right?

Tap water is chlorine-treated to keep it free of nasty bacteria.

Maybe. But then again… water is often treated with chlorine compounds to keep it bacteria-free. Now, blk water is supposedly spring water, which isn’t usually treated. But hypothetically, let’s consider what happens when humic acids, or fulvic acids, or whatever we’re calling them, come into contact with chlorine-treated water.

Oh dear. It seems that dihaloacetonitriles are formed. (See also this paper.) This is a group of substances (possibly the best known one is dichloroacetonitrile) which are variously toxic and mutagenic. Let’s hope that spring water is totally unchlorinated, 100% “we really got it from out of a rock” spring water, then.

To sum up: it is black, and that’s kind of weird and a fun talking point – although if you like the idea of a black drink you can always drink cola. It doesn’t balance your pH levels – nothing does. I don’t believe it replenishes electrolyte levels either – how can it when it doesn’t contain sodium? – and I’m dubious about the “2 ingredients” claim (could you tell?). And the oh-so-healthy-sounding fulvic minerals are most likely due to contamination from coal deposits.

All in all, whilst it might not be quite such a conversation piece, I think it would be better to get Great-uncle Nigel a nice box of chocolates this year.

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In the fridge or on the windowsill: where’s the best place to keep tomatoes?

Fresh fruit and vegetables are great, but where’s the best place to store them?

I’ve mentioned before that my Dad is a professional plant-wrangler (if you’ve never read the electric daisies post, do go and have a look – it’s a little-read favourite) and he often brings me home-grown fruit and vegetables.

What follows is an inevitable disagreement about storage, specifically, my habit of putting everything in the fridge.

In my defence, modern houses rarely have pantries (boo) and we don’t even have a garage. We do have a shed, but it’s at the bottom of our poorly-lit, somewhat muddy garden. Do I want to traipse out there on a cold, dark, autumn evening? No, I do not. So the fabled “cool, dark place” is a bit of problem. My fridge is cool and dark, I have argued, but here’s the thing – turns out, it’s too cool. And quite probably too dark.

This I have learned from the botanist James Wong (@botanygeek on Twitter), whose talk I attended on Monday this week at the Mathematical Institute in Oxford. James, it turns out, had a rather similar argument with his Mum, particularly regarding tomatoes.

We should’ve listened to out parents, because they were right. A lot of fruit and vegetables really are better stored outside of the fridge, and for tomatoes in particular “better” actually means “more nutritious”.

Lycopene is a very long molecule with lots of double C=C bonds.

Tomatoes, James explained, contain a lot of a chemical called lycopene. It’s a carotene pigment, and it’s what gives tomatoes their red colour.

Lycopene has lots of double bonds between its carbon atoms which form something chemists call a conjugated system. This has some rather cool properties, one of which is an ability to absorb certain wavelengths of light. Lycopene is especially good at absorbing blue and green wavelengths, leaving our eyes to detect the red light that’s left.

Lycopene absorbs blue and green light, which is why tomatoes appear red.

Tomatoes and lycopene also seem to have a lot of health benefits. There’s some evidence that lycopene might reduce the risk of prostate and other cancers. It also appears to reduce the risk of stroke, and eating tomato concentrate might even help to protect your skin from sun damage (don’t get any ideas, you still need sunblock). Admittedly the evidence is currently a bit shaky – it’s a case of “more research is needed” – but even if it turns out to that the causative relationship isn’t terribly strong, tomatoes are still a really good source of fibre and vitamins A, C and E. Plus, you know, they taste yummy!

But back to the fridge. Surely they will keep longer in the fridge, and the low temperatures will help to preserve the nutrients? Isn’t that how it works?

Well, no. As James explained, once tomatoes are severed from the plant they have exactly one purpose: to get eaten. The reason, from the plant’s point of view, is that the critter which eats them will hopefully wander off and – ahem – eliminate the tomato seeds at a later time, somewhere away from the parent plant. This spreads the seeds far and wide, allowing little baby tomato plants to grow in a nice, open space with lots of water and sun.

For this reason once the tomato fruit falls, or is cut, from the tomato plant it doesn’t just sit there doing nothing. No, it carries on producing lycopene. Or rather, it does if the temperature is above about 10 oC. Below that temperature (as in a fridge), everything more or less stops. But, leave a tomato at room temperature and lycopene levels increase significantly. Plus, the tomato pumps out extra volatile compounds – both as an insect repellant and to attract animals which might usefully eat it – which means… yes: room temperature tomatoes really do smell better. As if that weren’t enough, chilling tomatoes can damage cell membranes, which can actually cause them to spoil more quickly.

In summary, not only will tomatoes last longer out of the fridge, they will actually contain more healthy lycopene!

Anecdotally, once I got over my scepticism and actually started leaving my tomatoes on my windowsill (after years of refrigeration) I discovered that it’s true. My windowsill tomatoes really do seem to last longer than they used to in the fridge, and they almost never go mouldy. Of course, it’s possible that I might not be comparing like for like (who knows what variety of tomato I bought last year compared to this week), but I urge you to try it for yourself.

James mentioned lots of other interesting bits and pieces in his talk. Did you know that sun-dried shiitake mushrooms are much higher in vitamin D? Or that you can double the amount of flavonoid you absorb from your blueberries by cooking them? (Take that, raw food people!) Storing apples on your windowsill is likely to increase the amount of healthy polyphenols in their skin, red peppers are better for you than green ones, adding mustard to cooked broccoli makes it more nutritious, and it would be much better if we bought our butternut squash in the autumn and saved it for Christmas – it becomes sweeter and more flavoursome over time.

In short, fascinating. Who wants to listen to some “clean eater” making it up as they go along when you can listen to a fully-qualified botanist who really knows what he’s talking about? Do check out the book, How to Eat Better, by James Wong – it’s packed full of brilliant tidbits like this and has loads of recipes.

And yes, Dad: you were right.

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Puking pumpkins: more hydrogen peroxide

It was Halloween yesterday and, unusually for the UK, it fell in school term time. As it turned out, I was teaching chemistry to a group of 12-13 year olds on that day which was too good an opportunity to miss.

Time for the puking pumpkin!

A side note: there’s loads of great chemistry here, and the pumpkin isn’t essential – you could easily do this same experiment during a less pumpkin-prolific month with something else. Puking watermelon, anyone?

Carve a large mouth, draw the eyes and nose with marker pen.

First things first, prepare your pumpkin! Choose a large one – you need room to put a conical flask inside and put the pumpkin’s “lid” securely back in place.

Carve the mouth in the any shape you like, but make it generous. Draw the eyes and nose (and any other decoration) in waterproof marker – unless you want your pumpkin to “puke” out of its nose and eyes as well!

Rest the pumpkin on something wipe-clean (it might leak from the bottom) and put a deep tray in front of it.

To make the “puke” you will need:

  • 35% hydrogen peroxide (corrosive)
  • a stock solution of KI, potassium iodide (low hazard)
  • washing up liquid

The puking pumpkin!

You can also add food colouring or dye, but be aware that the reaction can completely change or even destroy the colours you started with. If colour matters to you, test it first.


  1. Place about 50 ml (use more if it’s not so fresh) of the hydrogen peroxide into the conical flask, add a few drops of washing up liquid (and dye, if you’re using it).
  2. Add some KI solution and quickly put the pumpkin’s lid back in place.
  3. Enjoy the show!

Check out some video of all this here.

What’s happening? Hydrogen peroxide readily decomposes into oxygen and water, but at room temperature this reaction is slow. KI catalyses the reaction, i.e. speeds it up. (There are other catalysts you could also try if you want to experiment; potassium permanganate for example.) The washing up liquid traps the oxygen gas in foam to produce the “puke”.

The word and symbol equations are:

hydrogen peroxide –> water + oxygen
2H2O2 –> 2H2O + O2

There are several teaching points here:

  • Evidence for chemical change.
  • Compounds vs. elements.
  • Breaking the chemical bonds in a compound to form an element and another compound.
  • Balanced equations / conservation of mass.
  • The idea that when it comes to chemical processes, it’s not just whether a reaction happens that matters, but also how fast it happens…
  • … which of course leads to catalysis. A-level students can look at the relevant equations (see below).

Once the pumpkin has finished puking, demonstrate the test for oxygen gas.

Some health and safety points: the hydrogen peroxide is corrosive so avoid skin contact. Safety goggles are essential, gloves are a Good Idea(™). The reaction is exothermic and steam is produced. A heavy pumpkin lid will almost certainly stay in place but still, stand well back. 

But we’re not done, oh no! What you have at the end of this reaction is essentially a pumpkin full of oxygen gas. Time to crack out the splints and demonstrate/remind your students of the test for oxygen. It’s endlessly fun to put a glowing splint into the pumpkin’s mouth and watch it catch fire, and you’ll be able to do it several times.

And we’re still not done! Once the pumpkin has completely finished “puking”, open it up (carefully) and look inside. Check out that colour! Why is it bluish-black in there?

The inside of the pumpkin is blue-black: iodine is produced which complexes with starch.

It turns out that you also get some iodine produced, and there’s starch in pumpkins. It’s the classic, blue-black starch complex.

Finally, give the outside of the pumpkin a good wipe, take it home, carve out the eyes and nose and pop it outside for the trick or treaters – it’s completely safe to use.

Brace yourselves, more equations coming…

The KI catalyses the reaction because the iodide ions provide an alternative, lower-energy pathway for the decomposition reaction. The iodide reacts with the hydrogen peroxide to form hypoiodite ions (OI). These react with more hydrogen peroxide to form water, oxygen and more iodide ions – so the iodide is regenerated, and hence is acting as a catalyst.

H2O2 + I –> H2O + OI
H2O2 + OI –> H2O + O2 + I

The iodine I mentioned comes about because some of the iodide is oxidised to iodine by the oxygen. At this point we have both iodine and iodide ions – these combine to form triiodide, and this forms the familiar blue-black complex.

Phew. That’s enough tricky chemistry for one year. Enjoy your chocolate!

Trick or treat!




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Hydrogen peroxide: another deadly alternative?

I’m sure most people have heard of hydrogen peroxide. It’s used as a disinfectant and, even if you’ve never used it for that, you probably at least know that it’s used to bleach hair. It’s where the phrase “peroxide blonde” comes from, after all. Hydrogen peroxide, and its formula, is so famous that there’s an old chemistry joke about it:

(I have no idea who to credit for the original drawing – if it’s you, leave me a message.)

To save you squinting at the text, it goes like this:
Two men walk into a bar. The first man says, “I’ll have some H2O.”
The second man says, “I’ll have some H2O, too.”
The barman brings the drinks. The second man dies horribly.

Now I think about it, it’s not a terribly funny joke.

Hydrogen peroxide has an extra oxygen atom in the middle.

Never mind. You get the idea. H2O2 (“H2O, too”) is the formula for hydrogen peroxide. Very similar to water’s formula, except with an extra oxygen atom in the middle. In fact, naturopaths – purveyors of alternative therapies – often refer to hydrogen peroxide as “water with extra oxygen”. But this is really misleading because, to torture a metaphor, that extra oxygen makes hydrogen peroxide the piranha to water’s goldfish.

Water, as we know, is pretty innocuous. You should try not to inhale it obviously, or drink more than about six litres in one go, but otherwise, its pretty harmless. Hydrogen peroxide, on the other hand, not so much. The molecule breaks apart easily, releasing oxygen. That makes it a strong oxidising agent. It works as a disinfectant because it basically blasts cells to pieces. It bleaches hair because it breaks down pigments in the hair shaft. And, as medical students will tell you, it’s also really good at cleaning up blood stains – because it oxidises the iron in haemoglobin to Fe3+, which is a pale yellow colour*.

Dilute hydrogen peroxide is readily available.

In its dilute form, hydrogen peroxide is a mild antiseptic. Three percent and even slightly more concentrated solutions are still readily available in high-street pharmacies. However, even these very dilute solutions can cause skin and eye irritation, and prolonged skin contact is not recommended. The trouble is, while it does destroy microbes, it also destroys healthy cells. There’s been a move away from using hydrogen peroxide for this reason, although it is still a popular “home” remedy.

More concentrated** solutions are potentially very dangerous, causing severe skin burns. Hydrogen peroxide is also well-known for its tendency to react violently with other chemicals, meaning that it must be stored, and handled, very carefully.

All of which makes the idea of injecting into someone’s veins particularly horrific.

But this is exactly what some naturopaths are recommending, and even doing. The idea seems to have arisen because hydrogen peroxide is known to damage cancer cells. But so will a lot of other dangerous substances – it doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to inject them. Hydrogen peroxide is produced by certain immune cells in the body, but only in a very controlled and contained way. This is definitely a case where more isn’t necessarily better.

The use of intravenous hydrogen peroxide appears to have begun in America, but it may be spreading to the UK. The website yestolife.org.uk, which claims to empower people with cancer to “make informed decisions”, states “The most common form of hydrogen peroxide therapy used by doctors calls for small amounts of 30% reagent grade hydrogen peroxide added to purified water and administered as an intravenous drip.”

30% hydrogen peroxide is really hazardous stuff. It’s terrifying that this is being recommended to vulnerable patients.

Other sites recommend inhaling or swallowing hydrogen peroxide solutions, both of which are also potentially extremely dangerous.

If anyone ever suggests a hydrogen peroxide IV, run very fast in the other direction.

In 2004 a woman called Katherine Bibeau died after receiving intravenous hydrogen peroxide treatment from James Shortt, a man from South Carolina who called himself a “longevity physician”. According to the autopsy report she died from systemic shock and DIC – the formation of blood clots in blood vessels throughout the body. When her body arrived at the morgue, she was covered in purple-black bruises.

Do I need to state the obvious? If anyone suggests injecting this stuff, run. Run very fast, in the other direction. Likewise if they suggest drinking it. It’s a really stupid idea, one that could quite literally kill you.

* As anyone who’s ever studied chemistry anywhere in my vicinity will tell you, “iron three is yellow, like wee.”

** The concentration of hydrogen peroxide is usually described in one of two ways: percentage and “vol”. Percentage works as you might expect, but vol is a little different. It came about for practical, historical reasons. As Prof. Poliakoff comments in this video, hydrogen peroxide is prone to going “flat” – leave it in the bottle for long enough and it gradually decomposes until what you actually have is a bottle of ordinary water. Particularly in the days before refrigeration (keeping it cold slows down the decomposition) a bottle might be labelled 20%, but actually contain considerably less hydrogen peroxide.

What to do? The answer was quite simple: take, say, 1 ml of hydrogen peroxide, add something which causes it to decompose really, really fast (lots of things will do this: potassium permanganate, potassium iodide, yeast, even liver) and measure the volume of oxygen given off. If your 1 ml of hydrogen peroxide produces 10 ml of oxygen, it’s 10 vol. If it produces 20, it’s 20 vol. And so on. Simple. 3% hydrogen peroxide, for the record, is about 10 vol***. Do not mix up these numbers.

*** Naturally, there are mole calculations to go with this. Of course there are. For A-level Chemists, here’s the maths (everyone else can tune out; I’m adding this little footnote because I found this information strangely hard to find):

Hydrogen peroxide decomposes as shown in this equation:
2H2O2 –> 2H2O + O2

Let’s imagine we decompose 1 ml of hydrogen peroxide and obtain 10 mls of oxygen.

Assuming the oxygen gas occupies 24 dm3 (litres), or 24000 mls, at standard temperature and pressure, 10 mls of oxygen is 10 / 24000 = 0.0004167 moles. But, according to the equation, we need two molecules of hydrogen peroxide to make one molecule of oxygen, so we need to multiply this number by two, giving us 0.0008333 moles.

To get the concentration of the hydrogen peroxide in the more familar (to chemists, anyway) mol dm-3, just divide that number of moles by the volume of hydrogen peroxide. In other words:

0.0008333 mols / 0.001 dm3 = 0.833 mol dm-3

If you really want to convert this into a percentage by mass (you can see why people stick with “vol” now, right?), then:

0.833 mol (in the litre of water) x 34 g mol-1 (the molecular mass of H2O2)
= 28.32 g (in 1000 g of water)

Finally, (28.32 / 1000) x 100 = 2.8% or, rounding up, 3%

In summary (phew):
10 vol hydrogen peroxide = 0.83 mol dm-3 = 3%

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