Wall Street Journal, October 21, 2013 Book Review: A Tale of Seven Elements by Eric Scerri How seven elusive elements that completed the periodic table were found. By PETER PESIC At some point, many of us have gazed in idle wonder at a periodic table hanging on a classroom wall. Some elements are familiar, but many are mysterious, down to their abbreviations. What is Pm? What color is Hf? Is Fr dangerous? And what does this iconic chart mean, arranging the chemical elements into an arresting graphic design? In the 1860s, various investigators noticed that, when put in order by weight, elements fell into recurrent groups with similar properties, visualized in the famous table independently introduced in that decade by Dmitri Mendeleev and Julius Lothar Meyer. In 1913, the English physicist Henry Moseley showed that the number of charged units in the elements' nuclei (which increases by equal steps—1, 2, 3 . . . ) is a better ordering principle than atomic weight (which doesn't). This reshuffling revealed seven gaps, corresponding to then-unknown elements. Filling them in over the following decades completed the table from hydrogen (element 1) to uranium (92), the last element then known to occur naturally. In "A Tale of Seven Elements," Eric Scerri, a chemist and philosopher of science at UCLA, tells the stories of how these elements—technetium, promethium, hafnium, rhenium, astatine, francium and protactinium—were discovered. A Tale of Seven Elements By Eric Scerri Oxford, 270 pages, $19.95 They had been missed because they are unstable, rare or, in some cases, hardly found on earth at all—present only as traces in huge volumes of stone or seawater. Mr. Scerri observes, for example, that there is a total of 1 ounce of naturally occurring astatine on earth. It is so radioactive that a sample large enough to be visible would immediately vaporize from the heat of its own decay. Yet the data and interpretation stored in the periodic table made the missing elements treasures waiting to be discovered and suggested clues to their properties. (We can surmise that elemental astatine would be even darker than the purple of iodine, the preceding element in its group.) The searchers struggled with false alarms and inconclusive sightings, such as an Italian team's 1924 claim to have found promethium, which turned out to be so radioactive that isolating it only became technically possible in the 1940s. Then too, many of these elements come in different isotopes, alternate forms of the same element with various degrees of instability. "Discovery" meant finding and analyzing the longest-lived isotope. Not surprisingly, many claims and counterclaims swirled around each element, often involving national rivalries. Consider Masataka Ogawa's disputed 1908 claim to have observed what his partisans named "nipponium" (element 75). It is now called rhenium, after the Rhine, having been officially discovered in 1925 by the German couple Ida and Walter Noddack. Though Mr. Scerri and others don't accept it, the Noddacks claimed also to find number 43 (technetium), the first element to be artificially produced, by Emilio Segrè in 1937. Rather than regarding these controversies as incidental embarrassments, Mr. Scerri considers them an essential part of science itself, an aspect of its competitive nature. Mr. Scerri writes clearly and calmly, without the impulse to overdramatize that can mar popular books about science. "A Tale of Seven Elements" brings forward several interesting and lesser-known female protagonists, such as the French physicist Marguerite Perey, who discovered element 87 (francium) in 1939, though she didn't yet have an undergraduate degree and wouldn't receive her doctorate until 1949. Like her mentor, Marie Curie, Perey died early as a result of her work with radioactive materials when their dangers weren't fully known. Throughout, Mr. Scerri provides astonishing details almost in passing. For instance, in 1972 anomalies in the ratio of uranium isotopes found in Oklo, Gabon, led to the deduction that a self-sustaining nuclear chain reaction had occurred at that site naturally, two billion years before Enrico Fermi and others accomplished this feat artificially in 1942. This natural chain reaction lasted somewhere between 600,000 and 1.5 million years, presumably limited by the supply of nuclear "fuel." Further, the Oklo "reactor" produced a number of telltale elements (such as technetium and promethium) that otherwise would have been absent from the earth's crust. Though Mr. Scerri doesn't go into it, one certainly wonders to what extent this extraordinary phenomenon affected the history of the earth. I was also amazed to learn from Mr. Scerri that gold's characteristic color comes from the effect of relativity on the inner shells of its electrons. I hadn't imagined that gold's color (so different from its periodic neighbors, platinum and mercury) owed so much to relativistic effects, which tend to be associated with much higher-energy phenomena than atomic structure. Yet without relativity, gold would look like silver. This example highlights an underlying tension that Mr. Scerri calls the "invasion of the periodic table by physics." He takes pride in the continued integrity of chemistry as an autonomous realm of thought. Though he presents the quantum-mechanical underpinnings of atomic structure, Mr. Scerri wants to disabuse some physicists of their arrogant delusion that chemistry is only a grubby applied subsidiary of their master science. He stresses that there remain persistent questions about the periodic table that aren't neatly resolved by basic physics, such as whether the relativistic causes of gold's color will reappear in the new synthetic elements past number 112. Mr. Scerri's outstanding book helps us understand the special spirit of chemistry, whose contribution to science and human experience emphasizes the crucible of experiment. The days of discovery aren't over: Beyond uranium, two dozen more elements have been produced artificially. Mr. Scerri notes that chemists have no secure consensus about how many elements are possible: Some say 137; others 173. The periodic table, as imposing as it looks, is still a work in progress. What further surprises might it disclose? —Mr. Pesic, tutor and musician-in-residence at St. John's College, is the author of "Sky in a Bottle."