Science and beer go together like philosophy and beer. Or art and beer. Or pretzels and beer.
Around the time of the American Revolution, brewing played an important role in the early study of chemistry. Dr. Joseph Priestley was one of the first people to isolate oxygen and identify some of its remarkable properties. He wrote a six-volume work entitled Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air in which he describes a number of different “airs” – “gasses” in modern English – and his experiments with them.
His “fixed air” – our “carbon dioxide” – was readily supplied by a nearby brewery. The fermenting beer provided such a great and steady supply of the gas that it became a favorite subject for experimentation. Dr. Priestley found that in fixed air, “a candle would not burn, and a mouse would have died presently.” He even used an upside-down beer glass for his make-shift gas chamber:
If I want to try whether an animal will live in any kind of air, I first put the air into a small vessel, just large enough to give it room to stretch itself; and as I generally make use of mice for this purpose, I have found it very convenient to use the hollow part of a tall beer-glass… which contains between two and three ounce measures of air. In this vessel a mouse will live twenty minutes or half an hour.
For the purpose of these experiments, it is most convenient to catch the mice in small wire traps, out of which it is easy to take them, and, holding them by the back of the neck, to pass them through the water into the vessel which contains the air. If I expect that the mouse will live a considerable time, I take care to put into the vessel something on which it may conveniently sit, out of reach of the water. If the air be good, the mouse will soon be perfectly at ease, having suffered nothing by its passing through the water. If the air be supposed to be noxious, it will be proper (if the operator be desirous of preserving the mice for further use) to keep hold of their tails, that they may be withdrawn as soon as they begin to show signs of uneasiness; but if the air be throughly noxious, and the mouse happens to get a full inspiration, it will be impossible to do this before it be absolutely irrecoverable.
If that description made you feel bad for the mice, you should know that you are not the first to have that reaction. At least part of the time he was making these experiments, Dr. Priestly was a tutor at the Warrington Academy. A colleague of his at Warrington had a daughter named Anna Laetitia Aikin, later Anna Laetitia Barbauld, who grew up to be a prominent woman of letters. One of her early works was a poem, dedicated to Dr. Priestley, called The Mouse’s Petition. The poem was written from the point of view of a mouse that had been trapped by Dr. Priestley and lamented it’s prospective demise on the alter of scientific research. As the story goes, Anna placed the poem in the trap with the mouse, and when Dr. Priestley found it in the morning, he set the mouse free. Scientists, after all, are not completely heartless.
Beer of the week: Rusty Red Ale – Building on the work of Dr. Priestley, Antoine Lavoisier demonstrated that respiration and combustion are forms of oxidization: oxygen bonding with other elements. Like respiration and combustion, rust forming on iron is a form of oxidization. This red ale is from Wisconsin’s O’so Brewing Company. It pours a dark red-brown with a head that dissipates very quickly. The aroma is mostly of roasted malt. The beer is bready, and the flavor follows. It is pleasant and malty, but I’d like a little more flavor. Even more caramel malt or more hops bitterness. Or both.
Reading of the week: The Mouse’s Petition by Anna Laetitia Barbauld – Barbauld’s narrator mouse makes compelling appeals that are both philosophical and sentimental. The poem also has a line that makes me curious about how intimate the author was with Dr. Priestley’s work. The mouse claims that “The cheerful light, the vital air, / Are blessings widely given.” The term “vital air” was one of the names given to oxygen, so it is possible that Barbauld was making a specific reference to Dr. Priestley’s experiments with different gasses. Also, lest the reader get the wrong idea about the good doctor, Barbauld added a note to this edition of the poem to say that she did not mean to attribute any cruelty to Dr. Priestley, of whom she maintained the highest regard.
Question for the week: The use of animals in scientific research is a touchy subject. Some extremely important discoveries have resulted from the death and suffering of countless animals. Is there anything like a clear line that can be drawn between acceptable and unacceptable animal testing? For example, might we agree that testing cosmetics on animals is never ok, or that testing prosthetics on animals is always ok?
This is the thirty-eighth in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXVIII: Harvey, Jenner, Lister, Pasteur
The label on this week’s beer (pictured below with a pretty sweet lava lamp) makes the same claim as innumerable other German beers. In case you do not read German, bottle says that this beer is brewed in accordance with the Reinheitsgebot, the Bavarian “Beer Purity Law.” I have railed against that law in the past, but there are a few things that I would like to set straight.
For some background, the original Bavarian Reinheitsgebot was enacted in 1516. In short, the law regulated the ingredients allowed in beer. Under the Reinheitsgebot, beer could be made only with water, malted barley, and hops. Ostensibly, the law was intended to protect consumers from beer made with inferior ingredients. In practice, it stifled the innovative use of other sources of fermentable sugars, such as wheat or rye, as well as herbs or spices that could be used as an alternative to hops. It also proved to be an effective barrier to the importation of foreign beers that might include such ingredients.
When I discussed the Reinheitsgebot before, I claimed that the Reinheitsgebot was enacted as part of a scheme of protection for the local bakers’ guild. By reducing the demand for wheat and rye, the law reduced prices for those grains, much to the advantage of the bakers. However, I have also heard that the Duke of Munich owned virtually all of the hops farms in Bavaria. As if monopoly status was not enough, the duke used the law to force brewers to buy from him rather than use other herbs or spices to bitter their beer. Either way, the Reinheitsgebot is economic protectionism disguised as consumer protection. Whether it was for the benefit of the baker’s guild or the hops growing monopoly, it was certainly at the expense of everybody else. This sort of economic law was called “legal plunder” by French economist Frédéric Bastiat.
Additionally, I have asserted that the law is now only a marketing ploy. However, a version of the law does still exist on the books in Germany. It only applies to domestic beer production though, so non-conforming imports are now allowed into the country. Its value other than as a marketing ploy is totally unclear to me, especially at a time when innovative brewers around the world are experimenting with new styles and ingredients.
Finally, astute readers will have noticed that yeast is not listed as an acceptable ingredient. Back in 1516, yeast was still centuries from being discovered. It was not until Louis Pasteur’s scientific experiments in the middle of the 19th century that we learned that alcoholic fermentation is the product of living yeast cells. Consequently, the modern version of the law lists yeast as a valid ingredient, as well as ground hops and hops extract. Obviously, yeast has always been used in beer making, even if the brewers did not actually know what it was. Hops extract, however is anything but traditional.
I still think that the Reinhietsgebot was a bad law when it was passed and that the current version is no better. I am glad that my own beer choice is not limited by that law.
Beer of the week: Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Märzen – This dark brown rauchbier – German for smoked beer – comes from Bramberg, Germany. The name refers to the fact that the malt is smoked in a kiln over burning beechwood. It pours with plenty of tan head. The aroma is primarily of smoke, as is the flavor. For all the smoke, it is not overbearing. Especially as it warms, Schlenkerla shoes itself to be a very well-balanced brew.
Reading of the week: The Physiological Theory Of Fermentation by Louis Pasteur – For thousands of years before Pasteur’s discoveries, humans have used yeast for brewing and baking. In this excerpt, he describes in part how brewers unknowingly created the ideal conditions for yeast growth and fermentation.
Question for the week: Is yeast really an “ingredient” in beer? Usually, it is added to the wort, where it multiplies and ferments the sugars, and then it is filtered out. That makes it seem more like a process than an ingredient.