Metric Moments

By The Metric Maven

My friend Pierre had an interesting suggestion one evening. He thought that I should have a contest called Metric Moments. A metric moment is that point in one’s life that suddenly the simplicity of the metric system caused the Ye Olde English scales to  fall from one’s eyes. A sort of metric epiphany. He asked me what my metric moment had been, and in the moment I seemed unable to think of my metric epiphany. Pierre sent me his metric moment, which jogged my memory. I did have a metric moment in my life.

My mother owned a 1965 Volkswagen Beetle. I had been learning about cars from my friends Rick and Ty. Rick had a 1968 383 (6.28 L) Roadrunner. As I watched him work on it, I began to “learn” the U.S. socket sizes he used. My current set of sockets has these “standard” values 5/32, 3/16, 1/4, 9/32, 3/8, 7/16, 1/2, 9/16, 5/8, 11/16, 3/4, 13/16. When I was asked for the next size up from 9/16 I would have to look at the missing wrenches in the cradle, or look at the labels, locate 9/16, and realize the next size up is 5/8.

In the era of muscle cars, like Rick’s 383 Roadrunner or Ty’s Camaro, I had a Volkswagen Beetle to work on. I would need a metric socket set. This was a time when there were still signs on auto repair garages that said “We don’t work on foreign cars.” It was a period where American Exceptionalism was at its zenith when applied to cars. This myth is still celebrated on television. The 1970s would not be kind to the reputation of American automobiles.

My mother brought home a small set of metric sockets, and I could not wait to look at them. It was hard to contain my shock. The values were 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18. They were all integers. It was easy to know that if an 8 mm socket was too small, try 9 mm. There was no intellectual effort involved whatsoever. I simply could not understand why we did not use the metric system. That summer I asked my father why we didn’t use the metric system. His response was “I don’t know why, it’s much simpler.” I believe that was my “metric moment” when it really hit me how absurd our Ye Olde English non-system of measures is. There was confident talk in the 1970s about our inevitable metric conversion, and I was very, very, ready for a switch-over. With respect to converting to metric in 1970s America: “It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”

It would be decades before my metric jones would compel me to change over my engineering practice to metric. This allowed me to learn from those who had learned from other countries mistakes. I will be eternally grateful to Pat Naughtin, and others in Australia, who showed me the most elegant use of the metric system.

Pierre offered up Metric Moments entry #1 by email. As longtime readers know, Pierre is a master cook. Here is his metric moment:

The anxiety started when trying a new recipe authored by the well-esteemed America’s Test Kitchen (ATK) from their new book “Pressure Cooker Perfection.” The recipe is called “Easy Chicken and Rice.”

I read the list of ingredients, and figured that I had everything I needed in house to give this one a try. Plus, I needed to make some room in the freezer. When one buys chicken breasts from Sam’s Club, one takes home enough to feed a small army. …

Usually, ATK is known for well-tested, tasty recipes, so they are always good to look at for a decent dish. This recipe proved more challenging in an unusual way.

Perhaps I was over thinking, or too anal, but that’s the rule. When you first try a recipe, try to do it exactly the way the author says. …

The recipe asks for 4 bone-in, 12 oz each, chicken breasts…48 ounces of chicken? Easy, I’ll just use my digital scale to see what I’ve got. Except, it only counts ounces up to 15 and then the scale rolls over to 1 pound 1 ounce. There’s no option on the scale to count just in ounces.

To figure out what to use here, to make sure I had enough yummy chicken in this dish, I’d have to do math. 48 ounces ÷ 16 equals what, exactly? I stopped memorizing my times tables at 9 like every other American who attended a halfway decent public middle-school.

If the recipe said 1,360 grams of your hormone-infused, fast-twitch, myoglobin-free breast meat, it would have taken about a second to solve this little dilemma, and none of the psychic damage which I still live with today. I haven’t tried another recipe in the book.

Here’s that recipe:

As opposed to this more current (although ancient) recipe for “chicken in a pot” which makes the expectations more clear. From Modernist Cuisine, volume 3, p. 110.

Note, they have included scaling which comes our of baking formulas where everything is measured. One could easily put a bowl on the scale, add the first ingredient, then the second, entirely by weight, OR, by percentage of the main ingredient.

There are baking scales in which the cook adds the primary ingredient (100%) tare the scale to that, then using percentages only, tares the scale, and adds the remainder of ingredients one at a time.

As always, my psychic trauma is your metric grinder gristle. There’s probably a better metaphor here. Feel free to embellish where needed.

Simply put, the problem Pierre encountered was that the recipe called for 4 chicken breasts or 48 ounces of chicken. He had three chicken breasts instead of four, but realized that if they weighed 48 ounces he could make the recipe. His ‘merican scale would immediately “help” by switching to pounds and ounces after 15. This “helpful” parsing cannot be changed to ounces only so that he might find out the total amount in ounces without computation—directly from his scale. A quality metric scale can be set to grams only, and would read out 1360 grams immediately.

As I read Pierre’s tale, I realized that Americans design measurement scales, and have never heard of Naughtin’s Laws. While I was visiting my Step-Father in Seattle last year, he proudly showed me his digital food scale. When set to metric, it immediately had a readout with kg and g. There was no setting for grams alone. Although this is much less of a problem than pounds and ounces, it yet again shows the Ye Olde English instinct to use two measurement units where one is simpler. It is not unlike the dual decimal points with meters.centimeters.millimeters where millimeters are simple and integers—just like grams in everyday life.

If you have any metric moments you would like to share, please do in the comments section.


If you liked this essay and wish to support the work of The Metric Maven, please visit his Patreon Page and contribute. Also purchase his books about the metric system:

The first book is titled: Our Crumbling Invisible Infrastructure. It is a succinct set of essays  that explain why the absence of the metric system in the US is detrimental to our personal heath and our economy. These essays are separately available for free on my website,  but the book has them all in one place in print. The book may be purchased from Amazon here.


The second book is titled The Dimensions of the Cosmos. It takes the metric prefixes from yotta to Yocto and uses each metric prefix to describe a metric world. The book has a considerable number of color images to compliment the prose. It has been receiving good reviews. I think would be a great reference for US science teachers. It has a considerable number of scientific factoids and anecdotes that I believe would be of considerable educational use. It is available from Amazon here.


The third book is called Death By A Thousand Cuts, A Secret History of the Metric System in The United States. This monograph explains how we have been unable to legally deal with weights and measures in the United States from George Washington, to our current day. This book is also available on Amazon here.

Mixed Megaphors

By The Metric Maven

It struck me recently that a number of science writers that I’ve read don’t use measurement units to truly convey any actual numerical information, but instead have at best decanted them into metaphors, and at worst use mixed units, which then become mixed metaphors. The science writers offer numbers that appear to convey quantities, but actually offer literary impact rather than numerical impact.

For instance, the book Rust The Longest War, by Johnathan Waldman, has a very interesting chapter on the restoration of The Statue of Liberty. He states on page 26:

But still, the coal tar remained. The coal tar was more stubborn, reacting as it had with various corrosion products. Sandblasting would have removed it, but also would have  damaged the copper which was only  3/32 of an inch thick.

later he then states:

Wisely, he compared the thickness of the exposed copper to a spot where some of the black coal tar had oozed out and covered it, thus protecting it from both sides, and determined the rate at which the copper was corroding. It was vanishing at a rate of .0013 millimeters per year. At that pace, he figured, it’d last a thousand years.

The mixing of Olde English and metric does not produce a numerical continuum but causes one to think in terms of metaphor. A person, if they are American, can get a vague idea of how large 3/32″ is, and realize that 0.0013 millimeters is a very small number compared with it, but much like good writing style, a good science writer should have good numerical style. If the author appears to believe that he can use millimeters as a unit, then why doesn’t he adopt metric exclusively? A thickness of 3/32″ is 2.38 mm. I doubt this value is more than an average so we could round it to 2.4 mm. Then when discussing the corrosion rate of 0.0013 millimeters it would be much easier to compare the actual numbers. When you change units, you force your comparison to become entirely visceral, and eschew any direct numerical comparison. Mixing measurement units does not aid numerical communication, it hinders it. There is no literary excuse for this—if one is a science writer.

On page 97 the author mentions how thin the metal on a pull-tab must be to function is discussed:

The score line is only  1/1000 of an inch thick, and technically it’s not coated ….

…Give or take two or three millionths of an inch,” Elmer, the plant’s assistant manager, once told me while pointing to a can, “and this won’t open.

One can see the fraction has been changed to emphasize how small the tolerance is, or perhaps over emphasize? The score line is about 25 micrometers thick, and this thickness must be within about 5-7 micrometers to work. One could then point out that a human hair has a diameter of about 100 micrometers for a tangible reference. Both information, and a reference are provided, and the forced metaphor is vanquished. Fractions in a lot of ways are equivalent to an uncountable number of Olde English prefixes. For example, the author talks about the diminishing mass of aluminum saved from ongoing design changes:

In the last twenty-five years, cans have only gotten one-hundredth of a pound lighter

One-hundredth of a pound? This one hundredth modifier leaves one translating from a large value of pounds to the minute value which could be expressed more straightforwardly. One hundredth of an avoirdupois pound is 16/100 of an avoirdupois ounce, 70 grains, or about 4.5 grams. The value in grams is about the mass of four to five chocolate m&ms. What is the mass of a current empty can of 12 oz soda? Well, as far as I recall this value is not given. It would seem important to know. The author is emphasizing in this chapter the importance of interior coatings in cans (page 79):

Consider a can of Coke. It’s a corrosion nightmare. Phosphoric acid gives it a pH of 2.75, salts and dyes render it still more aggressive, and the concoction exists under ninety pound per square inch of pressure, trying to force its way out of a layer of aluminum a few thousands of an inch thick.

Later on the same page:

Without this epoxy lining, only microns thick, a can of Coke would corrode in three days.

Once again, we see inches, and then microns, and then we are given a mass value for the inside coating:

Beer, for example, isn’t very corrosive, so coatings on beer cans are extremely thin, and weigh in the neighborhood of 90 milligrams.

on the next page:

The most anyone revealed is that the average is 120 milligrams per can.

We have no idea what the mass of an empty aluminum can is. Without context, milligrams becomes a Metaphor with a number attached. A quick look on the web gives a value of about 15 grams for an empty Coke can. We now realize that the can has a mass of about 15 000 milligrams, the coating is about 120 milligrams, and in the last 25 years, the amount of aluminum reduction is about 4500 milligrams. If you prefer decimals: 15 grams for the mass of the can, 0.120 grams for the coating, and 4.5 grams in aluminum per can in the last 25 years. Either way of expressing the values in metric is better than the Mixed Megaphors offered.

I want to emphasize that I’m not singling out the author of Rust. The book is an interesting read, when the author does not get bogged down in the personal details of people about which he is writing. I had planned on using examples from other contemporary science writing, but kept adding examples from this particular book. This is not just the fault of science writers. Editors take grammar and syntax seriously, but don’t seem to have anything but a dismissive sniff to offer when numerical expression in a literary context is criticized. Until science writers and “science communicators” take the numerical basis of science seriously, we will end up with prose metaphors in place of numeracy.

                                                                  

___

The citizens of the State of Iowa have seen fit to return Senator Charles Grassley to the US Senate. He is 89 years old. Back in the 1970s:

Representative Charles Grassley (1933- )  waged political war against metric road signs and single-handedly killed them on June 8, 1977. The Thursday June 9th Des Moines Register reported that:

“The Iowa Republican told his House colleagues that Federal Highway Administrator William Cox will withdraw proposed regulations that would have forced the conversion of highway signs to the metric system”

The Des Moines paper further related Grassley as:

“Denouncing kilometers as a “foreign system of measurement,” Grassley said that “forcing the American people to convert to the metric system goes against our democratic principles.”

The metric system was conceived and articulated by an Englishman, Bishop John Wilkins in 1668. Apparently because the French initiated its international stewardship and adoption, it is forever foreign. I suspect that—Now Senator Grassley—never bothered to research his forgone conclusion. He just didn’t like metric and had a Senatorial sized tantrum to stop it.

See my essay A Tale of Two Iowans for more.


If you liked this essay and wish to support the work of The Metric Maven, please visit his Patreon Page and contribute. Also purchase his books about the metric system:

The first book is titled: Our Crumbling Invisible Infrastructure. It is a succinct set of essays  that explain why the absence of the metric system in the US is detrimental to our personal heath and our economy. These essays are separately available for free on my website,  but the book has them all in one place in print. The book may be purchased from Amazon here.


The second book is titled The Dimensions of the Cosmos. It takes the metric prefixes from yotta to Yocto and uses each metric prefix to describe a metric world. The book has a considerable number of color images to compliment the prose. It has been receiving good reviews. I think would be a great reference for US science teachers. It has a considerable number of scientific factoids and anecdotes that I believe would be of considerable educational use. It is available from Amazon here.


The third book is called Death By A Thousand Cuts, A Secret History of the Metric System in The United States. This monograph explains how we have been unable to legally deal with weights and measures in the United States from George Washington, to our current day. This book is also available on Amazon here.