Elements of Country: a First Nations-first approach to chemistry

4.1 On the names of the elements

The names of the elements in English are informed by history, but they are not systematic and excite controversy (Meija, 2021). There are various approaches to naming elements, but the results are not necessarily logical or pedagogically useful; sometimes the names are misleading or incorrect. IUPAC offers five naming options for new elements “keeping with tradition” including a mythological concept of character (including an astronomical object); a mineral, or similar substance; a place, or geographical region; a property of the element; or a scientist (Koppenol et al., 2016).

Some elements are more or less named after their properties. Derived from ancient Greek, chlorine conveys the yellow/green colour of the element, bromine emphasises the unpleasant odour, and iodine notes the violet colour of the vapours. Contradictions and errors in names can reveal changing understanding over time. Rhodium is derived from the Greek ῥόδον rhodon “rose” despite being a silver-white metal. Rose more properly names an intermediate substance involved in Wollaston’s original synthesis. Molybdenum also has a Greek basis μόλυβδος molybdos “lead” revealing the historic confusion between lead and molybdenum ores.

The historical legacy of naming elements includes toponyms; some are derived from celestial bodies, often with a connection to Greek or Roman mythology. Cerium is named after the dwarf planet Ceres (Trofast, 1996), itself named after the Roman goddess of fertility and agriculture. Palladium was named after the asteroid, Pallas, which was named after the Greek goddess Pallas Athena (Griffith, 2004). Although the discoveries of these minor planets were important in the early nineteenth century, few people know the etymological basis of these elements today. In a toponymic example particular to Australia, Josiah Wedgwood FRS, detected a potential new element in a sample of “clay from Sydney Cove” sent to him by Sir Joseph Banks PRS (Wedgwood, 1790). The potential new element became known variously as sydneium and australium amongst other names (Fontani et al., 2014). Further investigation concluded the substance was not a new element. The substance was likely already familiar to the local people. It would be interesting to learn the name of this clay in the local language as a starting point for understanding the substance in more depth.

There is also the issue of divergent naming over time. Beryllium was also called glucinium, especially in the French chemical literature until 1957. Glucinium was chosen because of the sweet taste of this element and some of its compounds; later understanding proved the element was toxic. The elements vanadium and niobium were named panchromium and columbium, but the original discoverers withdrew their claims in the mistaken belief that they had erred in identifying new elements. The niobium/columbium dispute took a century to resolve (Rayner-Canham & Zheng, 2008; Robinson, 2019a). Arguably the biggest controversy over element names has been the so-called Transfermium Wars: the naming of the elements with atomic numbers 104 to 118 (García-Martínez, 2019; Kragh, 2018). They were discovered, often near simultaneously, between 1964 and 2010, by scientists in the United States, Russia, and Germany. National pride led to claims and counterclaims regarding the veracity of the discoveries to determine who could claim naming “rights”. Such disputes emphasise how the Periodic Table is a very human manifestation of knowledge and draws attention to the potential for the elements to be understood in a variety of ways depending on the culture and interests involved.

Since 1919, the IUPAC has assumed responsibility for the naming of the elements of the (English) Periodic Table, occasionally in consultation with kindred societies (Robinson, 2019a). The IUPAC has published procedures for the naming of new elements (Koppenol et al., 2016), and the criteria needed to be satisfied to establish the discovery of a new element (Hofmann et al., 2018, 2020). In addition to the historical legacy of a wide range of approaches to naming the elements, the very definition of what constitutes an element remains unsettled. The IUPAC has two definitions of an element and the concept of what constitutes an element is debated to this day despite the almost venerable status of the Periodic Table (‘Compendium of Chemical Terminology (Gold Book) | IUPAC’, 2019; Scerri & Ghibaudi, 2020).

Attempts at a systemised approach to naming the elements have gained little traction (Seidell, 1929), and the fact remains that this is a contested space. The complexity is crucial to appreciate when considering how the elements, and the Table, may be understood in other languages. Many opt for translation, with some bringing the complexity of the English approach to naming elements with them. The Table is today available in about 100 languages, including that of those living on Norfolk Island, one of Australia’s external territories (Weber, n.d.), and some element names exist in several languages of Aboriginal peoples (‘Australian native languages’, n.d.). The complex history of naming elements reveals the contingency at play in the development of the table. Its idiosyncrasies open the path to consider how the elements may be understood in a variety of ways.

In the case that a translation of the elements is considered a viable and productive part of taking a First Nations-first approach, it is useful to understand the strategies others have used to render the elements into an Indigenous language. Four limiting, but not mutually exclusive, strategies include (van der Krogt, n.d.; Stewart, 2010):

1. Using an existing elemental name in the Indigenous language

2. Using Indigenous language to express a unique characteristic of the element

3. Using Indigenous language to express the etymology of the English term

4. Borrowing the English term (Sacks, 2001)^[3]

In some cases, elements are already named in an Indigenous language. Sulfur is well known in its elemental form in Aotearoa New Zealand, particularly around the sulfurous pools in the North Island. So the Periodic Table in te reo Māori uses the traditional name, pungatara (or pūngāwhā) for sulfur (Te Tāhuhu o te Mātauranga | Ministry of Education, 2022).

Alternatively, the Indigenous language might exploit the opportunity for the element name to reflect in part the chemistry of that element. In te reo Māori, helium is named haumāmā, from hau (haurehu) (gas) and māmā, (light, not heavy). Our Canadian cousins suggest tùḥciti (fish head) for calcium and tupȧł (salt water) for sodium (Government of Canada, 2022).

Many of the elements of the Māori Periodic Table use prefixes derived from Māori phrases, combined with a descriptor or context in language. Metals take the prefix konu and non-metals using either hau or pu as prefixes for gases and solids, respectively. By this process, lithium is rendered as konukōhatu (a metal from a stone or rock) and chlorine becomes haumāota (green gas) (Stewart, 2020).

Borrowing from English or the dominant language of a region can be consistent with established practice over many years and may facilitate pronunciation by using existing phonemes. A variation on this method is to capture the sound of the element name in the local language. Thus, nickel is rendered as nikil in Kichwa (Andino-Enríquez et al., 2022; Lemonick, 2021), reflecting, in part, the different Kichwa alphabet and drawing upon the Spanish níquel. Borrowing may also take the form of the ideas rather than the sounds. Elements might recognise the derivation of the element name in the dominant language of the region. In Kichwa, the name for helium is intiku, derived from the Kichwa inti (the sun) and ku (belongs to) (Andino-Enríquez et al., 2022). However, borrowing from another language can raise questions if culturally specific ideas such as mythological figures are incorporated into a non-western lexicon. For this reason, it may not be the preferred strategy for generating a deep cultural and linguistic understanding that reflects the ideas embedded in the Indigenous language.

These approaches are neither exhaustive nor mutually exclusive; there is no one right way (Government of Canada, 2022). There are several possibilities for rendering the names of the elements in another language. The most important factor is that the choice should be made by the Indigenous community to suit their cultural, linguistic, and ideological foundations. If we start from a First Nations-first approach, there is potential to understand the elements and the relationships between them in new ways. Aldersey-Williams’ observation “I began to perceive that elements told cultural stories” points to a way forward that resonates with Nakata’s vision of knowledge creation at the “cultural interface” (Aldersey-Williams, 2012; Nakata, 2007). The cultural interface describes the space between knowledge systems where “things are not clearly black or white, Indigenous or Western” (Nakata, 2007, p. 9).

We seek to celebrate the knowledges, languages, and cultures of the peoples of the Eora nation and those connected with them. To understand the elements more deeply will involve sharing in the liminal space between knowledge systems, engaging in conversations with a view to reaching community consensus, and testing ideas in open forums where local Elders and community members can consider suggested words and phrases and offer advice on how to refine and improve upon the work. The role of chemists is to support the process, provide assistance as it may be sought in regard to the elements themselves, and to engage respectfully at the cultural interface.

4.2 On the shape of the Periodic Table

Just as the naming of elements in the western tradition reveals the history of the development of chemistry, so too does the way that the relationship between the elements is organised through the Periodic Table. The evolution of the Table has been comprehensively described by Scerri (Scerri, 2019), but it is not a settled object, nor are its scientific basis and limitations fully understood (Pyykkö, 2019; Scerri, 2020; Schwarz & Rich, 2010). As more has been learnt, the visual representations used to explain or understand the elements have increased. There are over 1000 representations of the Table including an early nineteenth century three-dimensional helical form (Avenas, 2020; De Chancourtois, 1862; Scerri, 2019), and one in which the elements are not chemicals, but the elements needed to achieve sustainability through green chemistry (Anastas & Zimmerman, 2019; Leach, n.d.; Mazurs, 1974; Scerri, 2019). How best to display the Table remains a matter of debate (Cao et al., 2021; Emsley, 2019; Schwarz et al., 2022).

The different representations of the Table may be seen as celebrations of ingenuity (American Chemical Society, n.d.), however, the choice of representation has been a matter of significant controversy. For example, whether to use an 8-, 10-, 18- or 32- column Table, whether to name the columns in the more familiar 18 column version of the Table 1–18 from left to right, or to name the first two and last six 1A, 2A, 3A…, with the third to twelfth numbered 3B–12B (Zumdahl, 1993), to use Arabic or Latin numerals (Lee, 1991), or to name columns eight, nine and ten, 8B, with columns eleven and twelve named 1B and 2B (Petrucci & Harwood, 1993). Even highly respected contemporary textbooks include several systems for numbering the columns (Weller et al., 2018).^[4] Even the concept of numbering the columns has stoked international debate for many years (Robinson, 2019b). Perhaps the ultimate contradiction to the notion of a “settled” Periodic Table are the arguments as to the positioning of the first two elements, hydrogen and of helium (Rayner-Canham, 2020).

Apropos the visual representations of the Periodic Table, Vernon commented, “The first time I saw a 32-column table with a split d-block …. I thought it must have been “wrong” since it appeared so awkward; I later came to realise that I’d subconsciously adopted the Western cultural obsession with symmetry” (Vernon, 2021). This is the salient point. Representations of the Table are as much cultural as they are about the information contained. The visualisation of the elements in the form of a table is a cultural artefact. As such, the Table brings with it assumptions about the relationships between the elements and the nature of the elements. Capturing how the relationship between elements is understood is an important way in which cultural understanding and knowledge systems can be relayed. Part of our work is to step back from this knowledge system and to consider the relationship between elements in the understanding of local knowledge holders. This may include careful demarcations about the elements that are part of daily life, elements that are avoided, and elements that have a place in ceremony. Such knowledge may influence how elements are grouped together and how they are represented through visualisation, storytelling, signs, ceremony, dance, or other mechanisms.

5.1 Collaborative knowledge creation

Part of the significance of taking a First Nations-first approach in chemistry is understanding the ways in which knowledge can be utilised. Some contrasts with western chemistry can be anticipated. One example is the FAIR Guiding Principles (Findability, Accessibility, Interoperability, and Reuse) for the reuse of scientific data (Jansen, 2016). In response, the Global Indigenous Data Alliance have developed the CARE Principles (Collective Benefit, Authority to Control, Responsibility, and Ethics) which seeks protections to ensure the ethical use and reuse of data (Global Indigenous Data Alliance, n.d.). There is a clear tension between these approaches to knowledge and data sharing. This tension has often played out to the detriment of Indigenous people. As noted by Janke: “Indigenous people were viewed as only informants or consultants, rather than as scientists and experts, perhaps because their knowledge wasn’t acquired through a university degree or in a laboratory” (Janke, 2021, p. 231). There is no simple way through these tensions. Different epistemologies mean that successful collaboration must happen at “the cultural interface” (Nakata, 2007). Torres Strait Islander and academic Martin Nakata acknowledges that new knowledge creation is a potential collaborative way forward, but also notes the inherent challenges “in practical contexts where Indigenous knowledge experts are in direct contact with scientific experts, this is the space of difficult translation between different ways of understanding reality” (Nakata, 2007, p. 9).

This brings us back to our opening question, what can we learn when we take a First Nations-first approach to understanding the elements? By working together with local knowledge holders of the Sydney region and surrounding communities, we seek to understand the chemical elements more deeply. We acknowledge that the Periodic Table is a cultural artefact and recognise its idiosyncrasies. A First Nations-first approach places Aboriginal knowledges at the centre of this work and recognises the importance of Country when it comes to understanding the elements. This work is an opportunity for genuine and respectful learning at the cultural interface. With sharing comes the potential for building an approach to chemistry that honours First Nations-first.