Sparklers produce a beautiful display of light and heat by burning metal dust, which contains iron. The recent work of Canadian and Dutch researchers suggests we can use iron as a cheap, carbon-free fuel.
Story by Freethink
Try burning an iron metal ingot and you’ll have to wait a long time — but grind it into a powder and it will readily burst into flames. That’s how sparklers work: metal dust burning in a beautiful display of light and heat. But could we burn iron for more than fun? Could this simple material become a cheap, clean, carbon-free fuel?
In new experiments — conducted on rockets, in microgravity — Canadian and Dutch researchers are looking at ways of boosting the efficiency of burning iron, with a view to turning this abundant material — the fourth most common in the Earth’s crust, about about 5% of its mass — into an alternative energy source.
Iron as a fuel
Iron is abundantly available and cheap. More importantly, the byproduct of burning iron is rust (iron oxide), a solid material that is easy to collect and recycle. Neither burning iron nor converting its oxide back produces any carbon in the process.
Iron oxide is potentially renewable by reacting with electricity or hydrogen to become iron again.
Iron has a high energy density: it requires almost the same volume as gasoline to produce the same amount of energy. However, iron has poor specific energy: it’s a lot heavier than gas to produce the same amount of energy. (Think of picking up a jug of gasoline, and then imagine trying to pick up a similar sized chunk of iron.) Therefore, its weight is prohibitive for many applications. Burning iron to run a car isn’t very practical if the iron fuel weighs as much as the car itself.
In its powdered form, however, iron offers more promise as a high-density energy carrier or storage system. Iron-burning furnaces could provide direct heat for industry, home heating, or to generate electricity.
Plus, iron oxide is potentially renewable by reacting with electricity or hydrogen to become iron again (as long as you’ve got a source of clean electricity or green hydrogen). When there’s excess electricity available from renewables like solar and wind, for example, rust could be converted back into iron powder, and then burned on demand to release that energy again.
However, these methods of recycling rust are very energy intensive and inefficient, currently, so improvements to the efficiency of burning iron itself may be crucial to making such a circular system viable.
The science of discrete burning
Powdered particles have a high surface area to volume ratio, which means it is easier to ignite them. This is true for metals as well.
Under the right circumstances, powdered iron can burn in a manner known as discrete burning. In its most ideal form, the flame completely consumes one particle before the heat radiating from it combusts other particles in its vicinity. By studying this process, researchers can better understand and model how iron combusts, allowing them to design better iron-burning furnaces.
Discrete burning is difficult to achieve on Earth. Perfect discrete burning requires a specific particle density and oxygen concentration. When the particles are too close and compacted, the fire jumps to neighboring particles before fully consuming a particle, resulting in a more chaotic and less controlled burn.
Presently, the rate at which powdered iron particles burn or how they release heat in different conditions is poorly understood. This hinders the development of technologies to efficiently utilize iron as a large-scale fuel.
Burning metal in microgravity
In April, the European Space Agency (ESA) launched a suborbital “sounding” rocket, carrying three experimental setups. As the rocket traced its parabolic trajectory through the atmosphere, the experiments got a few minutes in free fall, simulating microgravity.
One of the experiments on this mission studied how iron powder burns in the absence of gravity.
In microgravity, particles float in a more uniformly distributed cloud. This allows researchers to model the flow of iron particles and how a flame propagates through a cloud of iron particles in different oxygen concentrations.
Existing fossil fuel power plants could potentially be retrofitted to run on iron fuel.
Insights into how flames propagate through iron powder under different conditions could help design much more efficient iron-burning furnaces.
Clean and carbon-free energy on Earth
Various businesses are looking at ways to incorporate iron fuels into their processes. In particular, it could serve as a cleaner way to supply industrial heat by burning iron to heat water.
For example, Dutch brewery Swinkels Family Brewers, in collaboration with the Eindhoven University of Technology, switched to iron fuel as the heat source to power its brewing process, accounting for 15 million glasses of beer annually. Dutch startup RIFT is running proof-of-concept iron fuel power plants in Helmond and Arnhem.
As researchers continue to improve the efficiency of burning iron, its applicability will extend to other use cases as well. But is the infrastructure in place for this transition?
Often, the transition to new energy sources is slowed by the need to create new infrastructure to utilize them. Fortunately, this isn’t the case with switching from fossil fuels to iron. Since the ideal temperature to burn iron is similar to that for hydrocarbons, existing fossil fuel power plants could potentially be retrofitted to run on iron fuel.
This article originally appeared on Freethink, home of the brightest minds and biggest ideas of all time.
A chatbot from the nonprofit National Eating Disorders Association aimed to provide 24/7 guidance on eating disorders. Several drawbacks point to the importance of therapist-tech collaboration in multiple areas of health.
Then everything went off the rails. Tessa told Maxwell an unequivocal yes, and that “it’s important to approach weight loss with a balanced and realistic mindset,” and recommended eating whole foods and lean proteins to create a 500-1000 calorie per day deficit that would lead to a loss of 1-2 pounds per week. To most people, the advice sounds anodyne, but alarm bells sounded in Maxwell’s head.
“This is actively going to feed eating disorders,” Maxwell says. “Having a chatbot be the direct response to someone reaching out for support for an eating disorder instead of the helpline seems careless.”
“The scripts that are being fed into the chatbot are only going to be as good as the person who’s feeding them.” -- Alexis Conason.
According to several decades of research, deliberate weight loss in the form of dieting is a serious risk for people with eating disorders. Maxwell says that following medical advice like what Tessa prescribed was what triggered her eating disorder as a child. And Maxwell wasn’t the only one who got such advice from the bot. When eating disorder therapist Alexis Conason tried Tessa, she asked the AI chatbot many of the questions her patients had. But instead of getting connected to resources or guidance on recovery, Conason, too, got tips on losing weight and “healthy” eating.
“The scripts that are being fed into the chatbot are only going to be as good as the person who’s feeding them,” Conason says. “It’s important that an eating disorder organization like NEDA is not reinforcing that same kind of harmful advice that we might get from medical providers who are less knowledgeable.”
Maxwell’s post about Tessa on Instagram went viral, and within days, NEDA had scrubbed all evidence of Tessa from its website. The furor has raised any number of issues about the harm perpetuated by a leading eating disorder charity and the ongoing influence of diet culture and advice that is pervasive in the field. But for AI experts, bears and bulls alike, Tessa offers a cautionary tale about what happens when a still-immature technology is unfettered and released into a vulnerable population.
Given the complexity involved in giving medical advice, the process of developing these chatbots must be rigorous and transparent, unlike NEDA’s approach.
“We don’t have a full understanding of what’s going on in these models. They’re a black box,” says Stephen Schueller, a clinical psychologist at the University of California, Irvine.
The health crisis
In March 2020, the world dove head-first into a heavily virtual world as countries scrambled to try and halt the pandemic. Even with lockdowns, hospitals were overwhelmed by the virus. The downstream effects of these lifesaving measures are still being felt, especially in mental health. Anxiety and depression are at all-time highs in teens, and a new report in The Lancet showed that post-Covid rates of newly diagnosed eating disorders in girls aged 13-16 were 42.4 percent higher than previous years.
And the crisis isn’t just in mental health.
“People are so desperate for health care advice that they'll actually go online and post pictures of [their intimate areas] and ask what kind of STD they have on public social media,” says John Ayers, an epidemiologist at the University of California, San Diego.
For many people, the choice isn’t chatbot vs. well-trained physician, but chatbot vs. nothing at all.
I know a bit about that desperation. Like Maxwell, I have struggled with a multi-decade eating disorder. I spent my 20s and 30s bouncing from crisis to crisis. I have called suicide hotlines, gone to emergency rooms, and spent weeks-on-end confined to hospital wards. Though I have found recovery in recent years, I’m still not sure what ultimately made the difference. A relapse isn't improbably, given my history. Even if I relapsed again, though, I don’t know it would occur to me to ask an AI system for help.
For one, I am privileged to have assembled a stellar group of outpatient professionals who know me, know what trips me up, and know how to respond to my frantic texts. Ditto for my close friends. What I often need is a shoulder to cry on or a place to vent—someone to hear and validate my distress. What’s more, my trust in these individuals far exceeds my confidence in the companies that create these chatbots. The Internet is full of health advice, much of it bad. Even for high-quality, evidence-based advice, medicine is often filled with disagreements about how the evidence might be applied and for whom it’s relevant. All of this is key in the training of AI systems like ChatGPT, and many AI companies remain silent on this process, Schueller says.
The problem, Ayers points out, is that for many people, the choice isn’t chatbot vs. well-trained physician, but chatbot vs. nothing at all. Hence the proliferation of “does this infection make my scrotum look strange?” questions. Where AI can truly shine, he says, is not by providing direct psychological help but by pointing people towards existing resources that we already know are effective.
“It’s important that these chatbots connect [their users to] to provide that human touch, to link you to resources,” Ayers says. “That’s where AI can actually save a life.”
Before building a chatbot and releasing it, developers need to pause and consult with the communities they hope to serve.
Unfortunately, many systems don’t do this. In a study published last month in the Journal of the American Medical Association, Ayers and colleagues found that although the chatbots did well at providing evidence-based answers, they often didn’t provide referrals to existing resources. Despite this, in an April 2023 study, Ayers’s team found that both patients and professionals rated the quality of the AI responses to questions, measured by both accuracy and empathy, rather highly. To Ayers, this means that AI developers should focus more on the quality of the information being delivered rather than the method of delivery itself.
Many mental health professionals have months-long waitlists, which leaves individuals to deal with illnesses on their own.
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The human touch
The mental health field is facing timing constraints, too. Even before the pandemic, the U.S. suffered from a shortage of mental health providers. Since then, the rates of anxiety, depression, and eating disorders have spiked even higher, and many mental health professionals report waiting lists that are months long. Without support, individuals are left to try and cope on their own, which often means their condition deteriorates even further.
Nor do mental health crises happen during office hours. I struggled the most late at night, long after everyone else had gone to bed. I needed support during those times when I was most liable to hurt myself, not in the mornings and afternoons when I was at work.
In this sense, a 24/7 chatbot makes lots of sense. “I don't think we should stifle innovation in this space,” Schueller says. “Because if there was any system that needs to be innovated, it's mental health services, because they are sadly insufficient. They’re terrible.”
But before building a chatbot and releasing it, Tina Hernandez-Boussard, a data scientist at Stanford Medicine, says that developers need to pause and consult with the communities they hope to serve. It requires a deep understanding of what their needs are, the language they use to describe their concerns, existing resources, and what kinds of topics and suggestions aren’t helpful. Even asking a simple question at the beginning of a conversation such as “Do you want to talk to an AI or a human?” could allow those individuals to pick the type of interaction that suits their needs, Hernandez-Boussard says.
NEDA did none of these things before deploying Tessa. The researchers who developed the online body positivity self-help program upon which Tessa was initially based created a set of online question-and-answer exercises to improve body image. It didn’t involve generative AI that could write its own answers. The bot deployed by NEDA did use generative AI, something that no one in the eating disorder community was aware of before Tessa was brought online. Consulting those with lived experience would have flagged Tessa’s weight loss and “healthy eating” recommendations, Conason says.
The question for healthcare isn’t whether to use AI, but how.
NEDA did not comment on initial Tessa’s development and deployment, but a spokesperson told Leaps.org that “Tessa will be back online once we are confident that the program will be run with the rule-based approach as it was designed.”
The tech and therapist collaboration
The question for healthcare isn’t whether to use AI, but how. Already, AI can spot anomalies on medical images with greater precision than human eyes and can flag specific areas of an image for a radiologist to review in greater detail. Similarly, in mental health, AI should be an add-on for therapy, not a counselor-in-a-box, says Aniket Bera, an expert on AI and mental health at Purdue University.
“If [AIs] are going to be good helpers, then we need to understand humans better,” Bera says. That means understanding what patients and therapists alike need help with and respond to.
One of the biggest challenges of struggling with chronic illness is the dehumanization that happens. You become a patient number, a set of laboratory values and test scores. Treatment is often dictated by invisible algorithms and rules that you have no control over or access to. It’s frightening and maddening. But this doesn’t mean chatbots don’t have any place in medicine and mental health. An AI system could help provide appointment reminders and answer procedural questions about parking and whether someone should fast before a test or a procedure. They can help manage billing and even provide support between outpatient sessions by offering suggestions for what coping skills to use, the best ways to manage anxiety, and point to local resources. As the bots get better, they may eventually shoulder more and more of the burden of providing mental health care. But as Maxwell learned with Tessa, it’s still no replacement for human interaction.
“I'm not suggesting we should go in and start replacing therapists with technologies,” Schueller says. Instead, he advocates for a therapist-tech collaboration. “The technology side and the human component—these things need to come together.”
