Dispatch from hyperbole

Whenever a new discovery is reported to the scientific world, they say first, “It is probably not true.” Thereafter, when the truth of the new proposition has been demonstrated beyond question, they say, “Yes, it may be true, but it is not important.” Finally, when sufficient time has elapsed fully to evidence its importance, they say, “Yes, surely it is important, but it is no longer new.”

By Richard W Hughes

            It’s not often that I visit hyperbole. In fact, I make a genuine attempt to steer clear, the place just gives ne the willies, Please understand, It’s not that I don’t like the people…it’s just that…I don’t like the people. No, if you want to find me, you’ll have to look elsewhere. My regular haunts are Doubt and Suspicion, but I also tend to frequent Skepticism and, on occasion, Paranoid Mistrust. Cynicism? I’ve built my home there. Let me give you a taste of my world. Politicians? A 100-baht a night Pat Pong hooker is more honest—at least she tells you her price up front. Businessmen? Obviously devolved from the politician. Scientists? Their egos are the “e” in the e=m©2—ever expanding. And writers? Sorry, this is a family magazine.

            No, I do not like Hyperbole. But today, in describing work of Alan Hodgkin son, I am forced to pay the place a visit. So you know exactly where I stand. I think Alan Hodgkin son is God.

            Alan Hodgkin son hails from Scotland, which goes a long way towards explaining certain things. Summer in Scotland is pleasant. But the rest of the year can be summed up in a single word—dark. And that is where Alan Hodgkin son gets his rocks off—in the dark.

            My first acquaintance with Alan and his unique brand of gemology was in Bangkok, ca. ’85.He rolled into the classroom where I then rode herd and immediately doused the lights. What followed was one of the most memorable demonstrations of hands on gemology I have every witnessed. By lecture’s end, I and many others in the audience were begging for more.

            It is amazing what the human eye can do, especially when properly attached to that peculiar organ resident behind it. Just ask Mr. Hodgkin son. Continuing in the best tradition of B.W. Anderson, Alan Hodgkin son holds court on sensory gemology, educating our naked eyeballs to view absorption spectra and estimate refractive indices, among other things. He calls it visual optics, which is the title of his book on the subject. This small work, in the Scottish vernacular, a wee 50 leaves, is a summary of Mr. Hodgkinson’s peculiar brand of gemology. Peculiar in that t harkens back to a simpler world, one in which senses reign supreme. I highly recommend it.

Jaded

            Let’s put Alan aside for a just a moment. And move to B-jade. When I first learned that impregnated jade had scared the bejesus out of jade traders, I had to laugh. I had to laugh. Karma. Verily.

            Please understand. I do not typically find sport in pulling the limbs off any life form, even insects. Suffering is not something I wish upon anyone. But as one whose Chicken-Little cries that the sky was falling in regard to treatments had fallen on deaf ears for over a decade, I did take a certain morbid pleasure in watching at least some of those who had perpetrated widespread fraud get their chance to twitch in the hot sun. So long as there was money to be made, nobody had ears or eyes. But suddenly, the money was not so good. A big chunk of that sky had finally fallen. Bull’s-eye. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Instant karma’s gonna getya

            Karma. In my youth, I believed. I saw the world only in black and white. Everything was clear, obvious, and transparent. My innocence has long since been abandoned at the roadside. I no longer believe in karma. It is quite simple, really. I’ve seen too much. Karma is a lie, a Valium suppository shoved straight up our collective backsides to keep us from asking obvious questions, such as why dictators continue to live, and why those who should know better continue to give them sustenance.

            I do not pretend to be lily white. It’s not a black and white world. Just varying shades of gray. But there are those who fall closer to black than white. And for some further, the charcoal stain on their souls won’t even come off with a grinding wheel.

            So where was I? Yes, B-jade. While I don’t believe in karma, the fact that a simple treatment existed that required expensive testing to identify smacked of more than just irony. It actually sounded something suspiciously like karma—instant karma. I had to laugh.

The trouble with technology

            Despite appearances (and a basketful of previous columns to the contrary), I am not as cold and heartless as I seem. So after my mirth had subsided, I began to consider the basic problem inherent in this material’s identification. The stone has cracks filled with a polymer, much in the same way that an emerald is treated. We have no trouble identifying treated emeralds, why should the treated jade be any different?

            I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. So I paid a visit to the University of Colorado and spoke to Dr. Barney Ellison, polymer professional and professor of organic chemistry. It was most enlightening.

            I explained I was looking for some way to identify an impregnation, but the method had to be simple, hopefully involving little more than a microscope. Perhaps there was some reagent that would easily identify this stuff under the microscope? Barney pointed to his lab and said: “There sits over$3 million of high-tech equipment. It will ID your impregnation quicker than you can say ‘Jack be nimble.’ And this is the problem. We scientists have gotten lazy. In this university alone, we own enough equipment to slay every fly that has taken flight since the time of Adam. Why bother with horsetails when we own a sledgehammer?”

            But Barney, bless his soul, quickly warmed to the task. After adjusting his bow tie, he asked how much of this filler was likely to be present in the typical specimen. I answered not much, at most, a few tenths of a percent, by weight. “Holy Mother of Molecules! That’s enough to drown in! Go check out the turn-of-the-century literature, when reagents were used to identify compounds. Call up the companies who manufacture the actual filling substances and tell them you want to buy some, but you need more info. Speak to the techno-dweebs who actually make the stuff. They’ll be so tickled to talk to anyone interested in their work, that they’ll gladly tell you all about it, including what it’s made of. Once you know the composition, you can likely find a reagent that will react with it in a visible way.

            I must admit I was excited and rode out of Barney’s office on my highest horse, ready to do a bit of bug butt kicking of my own, But I didn’t have to. Because Alan Hodgkin son had already killed this particular varmint. With a fly swatter just about anybody can afford.

The mother of invention

            Pox on the lazy. Pox, pox, pox. Alan Hodgkin son is not lazy. He can’t afford it. $200,000 spectrophotometers are just not in the cards for a small Glasgow jeweler / gemologist. So when he was confronted with B-jade, he reached for his brain, rather than his wallet.

            Much of the B-jade can be identified by reference to microscopic appearance, specific gravity and UV fluorescence. Under the microscope, the filler can sometimes be seen, particularly in pits and cracks. Since the polymer has an SG far lower than jadeite’s 3.34, much (but not all) of the impregnated material will float in a 3.32 liquid. In addition, many of the fillers display a bluish white to yellowish green long-wave UV fluorescence, particularly if the fluorescence is examined under magnification with the stone quite close to the UV light source. But even these three tests will not always work. Thus much of the work on identifying B-jade has centered around infrared (IR) and X-ray photoelectron (XPS) spectroscopy. These tests are effective in identifying virtually all polymer impregnations, but hey require the kind of investment beyond the means of 99% of all gemologists and traders.

            The best science, like the best art, displays a simplicity that cuts right to the bone. It is instantly understood. And so it is with Alan Hodgkin son’s B-jade test. What he hit upon borders on genius. It goes like this: When a drop of pure hydrochloric acid is placed on a piece of untreated jadeite, capillary action draws the acid into the microscopic cracks and grain boundaries, If one then examines the surface of the specimen under the microscope in the immediate area surrounding the original drop, tiny beads of the acid will be found lined up along cracks and grain boundaries (see Figure2). Sometimes this ‘sweating’ or ‘weeping’ effect is visible within a minute. At other times it may take as long as 20 minutes to appear. With polymer-impregnated specimens, the acid-resistant infilling blocks the capillary action. Thus there is no sweating.

            This test does not rely on the composition of the polymer, its spectrum, SG, or fluorescence. Unfortunately, not all of us appreciate simplicity, His discovery has been pooh-poohed in the gemological literature, with claims that the acid drop may dry up before the capillary sweating can be seen, particularly in hot, dry environments. But once again, Alan Hodgkin son has the answer. If you find the acid drop evaporating too quickly, simply place the specimen in a small dish, which itself is placed in a dish of water, and cover it. Voila! No rapid evaporation. Brilliant, crystalline—cheap!

Gemology in the ‘90s—what’s a poor boy to do?

            To read today’s publications; one would think we in the gemological community never dare call a synthetic out unless we’re packing at least a few spectrophotometers in our holster. While I do not mean to downplay the utility of such gadgetry, how many of us have access to this stuff? And even if we do, can we really afford a situation where a $200 test is necessary for a $50 item? Kee-rist! Our ivory tower is now so high; the ground is out of sight. Sure, such instrumentation has its place. But once we’ve figured out what a stone is, let’s start working on how to identify it in simple terms.

            In retrospect, the term God is a bit much. Alan would be the first to scoff at deity status. It smacks too much of Hyperbole. Alan Hodgkin son is not God, but he’s been to the mountain. He didn’t bring back tablets. Instead, he brought back a simple slip of paper, a coupon entitling each and every one of us to a 99% discount on jade testing. And that’s good enough for me.