Bakelite: The Beginnings of the Plastics Era

 

About 110 years ago, the plastics era (as we understand that term) began with a material called Bakelite named by its creator and inventor Leo Baekeland.

Leo Hendrick Baekeland was born on November 14, 1863, in Ghent, Belgium, to Karel and Rosalia Baekeland. His father was a cobbler while his mother worked as a housemaid. He was a bright young man who, encouraged primarily by his mother, read anything he could get his hands on.

Leo Hendrick Baekeland.

He went to the local elementary school before winning a scholarship to the Royal Athenaeum, a government high school. In addition to his daytime studies, he attended a local technical school at night and found time to learn how to mix chemicals for developing and printing photographs in furtherance of his interest in photography. He graduated at the top of his class and headed off to college at Ghent University at age 17 in 1880 earning his bachelor’s degree two and a half years later in 1882. He continued his education in the study of chemistry and physics, earning his doctorate by the time he was 21.

At age 24, Baekeland became an associate professor and two years later he married Celine Swarts, the daughter of his mentor Professor Theodore Swarts. Shortly thereafter, Baekeland won another scholarship, this one a traveling fellowship which took him to Oxford University and the University of Edinburgh. From there, Baekeland traveled with his bride to New York City. The plan was to do research at Columbia University. Instead, he took a position with E. and H. T. Anthony and Company, a major company in the photography industry and resigned from his professorship at the University of Ghent.

Two years later, though, Baekeland went out on his own as a consulting and research chemist with big plans and visions for a variety of new chemical products and processes. However, this did not go well. He had plenty of ideas and the rudiments of new products but nothing came from it. He could not follow through or finish up on any of his ideas. The result was a debilitating illness most likely caused by exhaustion and stress and which brought him close to death. He was deathly sick for months which gave him much time to think about what had gone wrong and he found the cause. “While I was hovering twixt life and death, with all my cash gone and the uncomfortable sentiment of rapidly growing debts…it dawned upon me that instead of keeping too many irons in the fire, I should concentrate my attention upon one single thing which would give me the best chance of the quickest possible result.”

This brought him back to an old friend, photography, and photographic film methods. Financed by Nepera Chemical and its CEO Leonard Jacobi, Baekeland spent the better part of two years experimenting with hundreds of silver chloride emulsions. From this, he eventually invented a photographic paper that allowed images to be developed by artificial light rather than daylight. The paper was given the name Velox film (velox means “swift” in Latin). This was a type of contact printing that the amateur photographers of the time took to after it hit the market in 1893 as it was a quicker and easier process. Eventually, Kodak bought the rights to the paper for $750,000 in 1899. Baekeland’s share of that sale price amounted to a little over $200,000 and made him a wealthy man.

Kodak Advertisement for Velox paper.

With his new-found wealth, Baekeland “retired” to a large property with a Victorian mansion complete with a turret located in Yonkers, NY, on a bluff above the Hudson River which he named Snug Rock. His “retirement,” however, was also to include continued chemical research, and he outfitted a large building on his property into a state of the art chemistry laboratory for that purpose. As to what to research, he couldn’t profitably continue with photographic research as a clause in the sales agreement with Kodak required that he not compete with Kodak.

He pursued a number of research topics but eventually concentrated on trying to find a substitute for shellac. At the time, the only source for shellac was the excretions of the female Luccifer lacca beetle. Shellac had long been used as varnish for wood, but with the burgeoning electrical industry at the turn of the century another critical use was found for it as an insulator. It took 15,000 female lac beetles six months to produce enough resin for a pound of shellac; the need for a substitute material was obvious and potentially financially remunerative.

Baekeland was not the only chemist working on this product; dozens throughout Europe and the United States were also searching for a shellac substitute. This research brought him into close contact with the organic compounds Phenol and Formaldehyde. Working with Nathaniel Thurlow, his lab assistant, Baekeland produced a shellac alternative they called Novalac.

Baekeland’s chemistry lab at Snug Rock.

After the completion of the work to develop Novalac, Baekeland decided to continue to work with phenol and formaldehyde to see where it might lead. There had been much work by noted chemists with these compounds in the later part of the 19th century which led them (leading chemists) to consider their potential for usefulness to be limited at best.

One such chemist was Adolf von Baeyer, the 1905 recipient of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry for his work in organic chemistry, who reported the “colorless resin” created by combining phenol and formaldehyde as “worthless” because it would not crystallize and thus its chemical composition was impossible to accurately establish and its value to industrial applications therefore limited. Baekeland was well aware of these previous studies and reports but still believed he might be able to find some useful purpose from these two compounds.

Among these studies were attempts to impregnate wood with phenol-formaldehyde mixtures in various proportions to see if he could come up with a mixture that would harden the wood. Of course, these experiments involved mixing these two organic compounds and various fillers at varying temperatures and pressures at various times in the process for which, in addition to the lab equipment available at the time for these operations, a vessel of his own design which he called a “Baekeliser” was employed. (I wonder if chemists are any more likely than any other group to name their own creations after themselves.)

During these experiments, he found a substance, a “gum,” that had oozed out and was very hard. As he continued these experiments he eventually found four products which had useful possibilities and which he labeled A (the liquid condensate first produced); B (a soluble rubbery product); C (an infusible, insoluble hard gum); and D (insoluble in all solvents and does not soften).

Bakelite chemistry.

It was his Product D which, after further experiments and refinements, he would eventually patent and bring to market as Bakelite. (Again, I wonder if chemists are any more likely than any other group to name their own creations after themselves.) It was the first true synthetic material. The material developed by Baekeland was nonflammable, an electrical insulator, and would hold shape once properly molded. It is the first thermoset plastic. Its fabrication into any finished product generally involved pouring it into a mold as a liquid and molding under pressure for a short time (usually just a minute or two). After removal from the mold, it would retain its shape forever.

Baekeland’s problem now was how to best take advantage of his discovery. In 1908, as his patent was still under consideration, he traveled broadly, meeting with businesses of all sorts and trade associations of all sorts, demonstrating and explaining his product and he offered it to potential manufacturers in liquid form at 25 cents per pound in large lots on condition that the name Bakelite be used and promoted. He also set up a factory to manufacture Bakelite through to a completed product. One of his earliest sales in this regard was for over 100,000 insulator pots to the New York Central Railroad to replace their porcelain units.

Another area in which Bakelite almost immediately usurped an existing material was for billiard balls. Billiard balls had historically been made of ivory; however, in the mid to late 19th century people erroneously believed that ivory was in short supply and so alternatives were sought. What happened is that billiard balls made from celluloid became the standard by the late 19th century. There was a problem with this though; billiard balls made of celluloid had a tendency to “spark” or “explode” when one ball struck another. Billiard balls made of Bakelite were chemically stable and did not have any such problem and quickly became the material of choice for billiard balls.

In fact, the potential uses for Bakelite, with its thermal and electrical properties, and its ability to be rapidly and cheaply molded to just about any desired shape and hold that shape, were almost unlimited. It was used for hundreds of applications in the electrical industry, home appliances, clothing, fountain pens…you name it. The distributor caps and rotors for the Delco ignition system developed about this time by Charles Kettering would be made of Bakelite for decades to come. The cases for home radios were another perfect fit for Bakelite, especially the more futuristic-looking designs and the rotary phones in every home and office were of Bakelite construction.

Distributor Cap for 6 cylinder Packard 1941-47.

Ericcson Telephone 1931.

Coca Cola Advertisement pocket knife 1930s.

Fountain pen assortment.

Futuristic radio case.

To meet the demands for the myriad uses for his new material, Baekeland had originally planned to grant licenses and allow manufacturers to make their products using his material. However, this did not go well, at least according to Baekeland. He was highly critical of his licensees’ inability to manufacture his product to his standards. As per Baekeland “The preparation of the new resinoid and its molding compositions, which to me seemed very simple, appeared either very difficult or needlessly complicated to others. Reluctantly I had to start manufacturing the raw materials in a sufficiently advanced stage so that the users had only to complete the operation of molding and polymerization.” Thus, he set up a large plant in New Jersey for both the manufacture of the Bakelite material and for its molding into all the numerous products it would be used for. Hence, the majority of Bakelite manufacturing ended up occurring at the Bakelite Corporation facilities.

The patent for Bakelite lasted until 1926 and throughout those years in which the patent was in force many potential competitors attempted to make and market their own “Bakelite.” Baekeland viewed these individuals as “pirates” and, like Edison before him, kept a small army of lawyers busy defending his hundreds of patents regarding Bakelite. In his case, he was very successful as he apparently won every case. Although it should be noted, he also used diplomacy in these battles. If the infringer looked to be competent or had something of value to offer the Bakelite Corporation, he would readily offer them partnerships or affiliations.

The marketing of Bakelite has several interesting facets. From the very beginning, Baekeland emphasized the versatility of his new substance. This would remain the main focus of the marketing of Bakelite for decades to come. In fact, the Bakelite Corporation logo of a capitol B above the infinity symbol was a reminder of this. The Bakelite Corporation advertised its product not just in trade publications, but even more extensively in the popular media of the day – newspapers and the weekly and monthly periodicals.

Although those ads in the popular media were directed just as much at manufacturers or potential manufacturers as they were at consumers or potential consumers. Finally, Bakelite had an advantage as a product that very few products ever have.

For several decades after its introduction, the word Bakelite was almost synonymous with the word plastic (or at least hard plastic) and the Bakelite Corporation would do nothing to disabuse the public of that perception. Once the Bakelite patent expired in 1926, others brought similar material to market. However, people were very loyal to Bakelite. They somehow considered it the “real deal” as compared with the other similar materials.

1924 Bakelite ad emphasizing its many uses.

1947 Bakelite ad featuring women’s products.

1950s Bakelite ad aimed at manufacturers.

Bakelite Logo.

Bakelite was not the only plastic in the pre-World War II period, it just seemed that way. Another plastic, which came to market around the same time as Bakelite was cellophane. Cellophane, which is derived from cellulose, was a boon to the food industry (and consumers) of the day. Bakers especially took advantage of this new material. Now baked goods of all sorts could be kept fresh longer on the shelf and also at the consumer’s residence. This allowed there to be fewer, but larger, bakeries serving a wider area with the cost savings from these economies of scale being passed along to the consumer.

In 1939, the 76-year-old Baekeland sold the Bakelite Corporation to Union Carbide. Shortly thereafter, Bakelite’s market share in the plastics field would start to diminish. There is no correlation, however, between these two events. Instead, the field of plastics would explode with new and better materials with advantages of their own to expand the use of plastics into new areas in the post-World War II era. Among these materials were polyethylene, polyvinyl chloride, Teflon, and neoprene. Many of these had first been developed earlier but it was after the war when this flood of new materials was really felt.

This is a brief attempt to try to explain what took place. All organic solids are composed of long molecules of covalent bonded carbon atoms. These molecules are chains of carbon and hydrogen combined with various radical components (which can be nearly anything). These are commonly called plastics, although the scientific name for these is polymer. These organic solids can be classified as follows;

  1. Thermoplastics – These are characterized by linear carbon chains that are not cross-linked. Asphalt is a natural thermoplastic. However, there are many more manufactured thermoplastics which have an enormously wide range of applications. Included among these are; polyethylene, polypropylene, polystyrene, polyvinyl chloride, and Teflon.
  2. Thermosets – These are characterized by cross-linked carbon chains. The principal types of thermosets are epoxies, polyesters, and phenol-formaldehydes such as Bakelite.
  3. Elastomers – Rubber is a natural elastomer. These are characterized as liner polymers with limited cross-linking (the cross-linking allows the material to return to its original shape after a load is removed). Synthetics such as polybutadiene and neoprene are examples of the type.
  4. Natural Materials – These are characterized as being grown in all plant matter. Cellophane and celluloid are examples.

What happened to Bakelite is that eventually, materials with superior properties for a large variety of applications would come on the market. These materials, such as polyethylene (PE) and PVC could be re-heated and re-molded and would not fail in a brittle fashion. Bakelite could not be re-heated and re-molded and failed in a brittle fashion. This was due to its cross-linked structure which PE and PVC did not have. Bakelite is still manufactured, however, and is used for pot handles and jewelry.

Below is a video about 7 and a half minutes long by a couple of college chemistry professors about the making of Bakelite.

In looking for a movie with some involvement with plastics the only one I could think of is The Graduate from 1967.

I want to close this out with a song about plastics. Looking online for such a tune didn’t turn up much worth listening to. Online, there appear to be two types of “plastics” songs. The first are songs about credit cards which is a little off-topic. The second are environmentalist screeds about the evils of plastic and our throwaway consumer society. Ugh. I ended selecting “Fantastic Plastic Lover” a 1967 song by Jefferson Airplane.

.

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  1. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    MeandurΦ (View Comment):

    Great post TL.

    Thanks MeanDee!

    • #31
  2. DesertDwarf Inactive
    DesertDwarf
    @DesertDwarf

    Jack Shepherd (View Comment):

    Ontheleftcoast (View Comment):

    Jack Shepherd (View Comment):

    Very cool history.

    I knew of the existence of Bakelite, and what shellac is, but never made a connection between them.

    When I was a kid, I read my dad’s Boy’s Life magazines from the 50s. They regularly had stories by sci-fi luminaries like Clarke.

    One I distinctly remember was about a kid who wakes up and discovers that he could reshape his face because of the prevalence of plastic in post-War life.

    Of course, it’s nearly impossible to search for, and finding the exact story requires scanning the archives of the magazine, but I’d live to find it again.

    The archives aren’t working well, but searching for Arthur C. Clarke only turned up one result which might fit: p 7 of the November 1967 issue.

    Thanks for the idea, because I found it! Here’s the link to The Sunjammer. And yes, @dnewlander, that was one heck of a cover.

    The “plastics” story wasn’t a Clarke one. (I’d remember that.) But it was another “Golden Age” sci-fi author, I’m 75% sure. It was definitely intriguing as a 10-year old kid reading it.

    My Google-fu turned up a story named The Plastic Age by Howard Goldsmith in a publication named Adrift in Space and Other Stories. I found a reference here that includes an excerpt that may help confirm it’s the correct story.

    • #32
  3. MichaelKennedy Inactive
    MichaelKennedy
    @MichaelKennedy

    About ten years ago, I started a history of the Cal 40 sailboat.  I was restoring one at the time.  It was one of the first successful racing sailboat made of plastic (fiberglass).  In early chapters of the manuscript, I related the history of plastic, including a much briefer description of Bakelite.  I never finished the book as most of the older men who had raced the boats in the 1960s died off before I could collect their stories.  This was a very nice history. Thanks.

    If anyone is interested in the restoration of a sailboat.

    http://abriefhistory.org/?page_id=67

     

    • #33
  4. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    MichaelKennedy (View Comment):

    About ten years ago, I started a history of the Cal 40 sailboat. I was restoring one at the time. It was one of the first successful racing sailboat made of plastic (fiberglass). In early chapters of the manuscript, I related the history of plastic, including a much briefer description of Bakelite. I never finished the book as most of the older men who had raced the boats in the 1960s died off before I could collect their stories. This was a very nice history. Thanks.

    If anyone is interested in the restoration of a sailboat.

    http://abriefhistory.org/?page_id=67

     

    Thanks Michael. That sailboat restoration looks like quite a project.

    • #34
  5. Arahant Member
    Arahant
    @Arahant

    MichaelKennedy (View Comment):
    If anyone is interested in the restoration of a sailboat.

    • #35
  6. Jack Shepherd Inactive
    Jack Shepherd
    @dnewlander

    DesertDwarf (View Comment):

    Jack Shepherd (View Comment):

    Ontheleftcoast (View Comment):

    Jack Shepherd (View Comment):

    Very cool history.

    I knew of the existence of Bakelite, and what shellac is, but never made a connection between them.

    When I was a kid, I read my dad’s Boy’s Life magazines from the 50s. They regularly had stories by sci-fi luminaries like Clarke.

    One I distinctly remember was about a kid who wakes up and discovers that he could reshape his face because of the prevalence of plastic in post-War life.

    Of course, it’s nearly impossible to search for, and finding the exact story requires scanning the archives of the magazine, but I’d live to find it again.

    The archives aren’t working well, but searching for Arthur C. Clarke only turned up one result which might fit: p 7 of the November 1967 issue.

    Thanks for the idea, because I found it! Here’s the link to The Sunjammer. And yes, @dnewlander, that was one heck of a cover.

    The “plastics” story wasn’t a Clarke one. (I’d remember that.) But it was another “Golden Age” sci-fi author, I’m 75% sure. It was definitely intriguing as a 10-year old kid reading it.

    My Google-fu turned up a story named The Plastic Age by Howard Goldsmith in a publication named Adrift in Space and Other Stories. I found a reference here that includes an excerpt that may help confirm it’s the correct story.

    Hmmm. That sounds like it.

    But I’m fairly positive that I read a very similar story in one of my dad’s Boy’s Life issues. Since he graduated high school in 1965, I’d expect the magazine I read to have been old than that. I’ll keep looking. But thanks!

    • #36
  7. Percival Thatcher
    Percival
    @Percival

    Back in high school, I wrote a term paper on plastics. Bakelite received several paragraphs at the beginning. Somehow in the intervening years I confused the properties of celluloid billiard balls with bakelite ones.

    Excellent post, tigerlily.

    • #37
  8. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    Percival (View Comment):

    Back in high school, I wrote a term paper on plastics. Bakelite received several paragraphs at the beginning. Somehow in the intervening years I confused the properties of celluloid billiard balls with bakelite ones.

    Excellent post, tigerlily.

    Thanks Percival!

    • #38
  9. Barfly Member
    Barfly
    @Barfly

    My first breadboards were bakelite. If Proust had a muse like @tigerlily then his recollections would have been more focused. I even remember the circuits I made. Bakelite is very resilient to a kid’s sloppy soldering technique.

    • #39
  10. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    Barfly (View Comment):

    My first breadboards were bakelite. If Proust had a muse like @tigerlily then his recollections would have been more focused. I even remember the circuits I made. Bakelite is very resilient to a kid’s sloppy soldering technique.

    I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks Barfly.

    • #40
  11. Codename: Bunsen Honeydew Coolidge
    Codename: Bunsen Honeydew
    @ltpwfdcm

    Well done @tigerlily it was a great read!

    • #41
  12. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    Codename: Bunsen Honeydew (View Comment):

    Well done @tigerlily it was a great read!

    Thanks Mr. Honeydew!

    • #42
  13. Jason Rudert Inactive
    Jason Rudert
    @JasonRudert

    *long golf clap*

    • #43
  14. tigerlily Member
    tigerlily
    @tigerlily

    Jason Rudert (View Comment):

    *long golf clap*

    I’ll take it.

    • #44
  15. Reese Member
    Reese
    @Reese

    tigerlily (View Comment):

    Arahant (View Comment):

    Also, definite @jameslileks bait.

     

    Thanks Arahant. I hope he does weigh in.

    You’ll probably get the Breathy White People salute on Friday. 

    • #45
  16. Gary McVey Contributor
    Gary McVey
    @GaryMcVey

    Barfly (View Comment):

    My first breadboards were bakelite. If Proust had a muse like @tigerlily then his recollections would have been more focused. I even remember the circuits I made. Bakelite is very resilient to a kid’s sloppy soldering technique.

    Bakelite is also what radio knobs were made of. Tuning a shortwave radio required a safecracker’s touch, nudging the dial along. A big knurled solid plastic knob made it easier. 

    • #46
  17. Randy Webster Inactive
    Randy Webster
    @RandyWebster

    Gary McVey (View Comment):

    Barfly (View Comment):

    My first breadboards were bakelite. If Proust had a muse like @tigerlily then his recollections would have been more focused. I even remember the circuits I made. Bakelite is very resilient to a kid’s sloppy soldering technique.

    Bakelite is also what radio knobs were made of. Tuning a shortwave radio required a safecracker’s touch, nudging the dial along. A big knurled solid plastic knob made it easier.

    Crystal radios were even worse.

    • #47
  18. Barfly Member
    Barfly
    @Barfly

    Randy Webster (View Comment):

    Gary McVey (View Comment):

    Barfly (View Comment):

    My first breadboards were bakelite. If Proust had a muse like @tigerlily then his recollections would have been more focused. I even remember the circuits I made. Bakelite is very resilient to a kid’s sloppy soldering technique.

    Bakelite is also what radio knobs were made of. Tuning a shortwave radio required a safecracker’s touch, nudging the dial along. A big knurled solid plastic knob made it easier.

    Crystal radios were even worse.

    I tried making one from a description in some boy’s novel, failed totally. I eventually got a kit to work. 

    I also recall that it would sympathetically pick up and amplify my transistor radio, whether it was powered or not. That fascinated me.

    • #48
  19. Gary McVey Contributor
    Gary McVey
    @GaryMcVey

    For the benefit of any post-vinyl readers: In phonographs, the tone arm is what swung out so the “needle” (a stylus) could touch the record. Two exposed wires connected to the pickup cartridge. If you placed a diode across those two contact points, radio would come out of the phonograph. It was usually a jumble of stations interfering with each other, but if you had a regionally dominant signal from one of them, it was the loudest. 

    A WWII-era book for boys taught me how to make a foxhole radio, a crystal radio without the galena crystal that was generally essential. Instead, you tied a long pencil lead to the point of a safety pin and had it just barely touch an exposed inch of copper wire. The lead in the pencil was actually graphite, and acted as the crystalline signal detector. You needed a good set of headphones, but it worked. 

     

    • #49
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