SHUTTERSTOCK

Science fairs are not what they used to be.

The evolution of teen science

OTTAWA–There never were any vinegar-and-baking-soda volcanoes at science fairs, at least not once you got past the individual schools to the city-wide and regional levels. Those volcanoes were merely a canard perpetuated by TV sitcoms and a few journalists who wouldn't know an acid from a base.

But there were aquaria brimming with swimming denizens, hamsters spinning wheels, Petri dishes harbouring fungi and moulds, electrical gizmos that generated satisfying sparks, plus liquids that foamed and changed colour when poured.

Alas, gone, all gone. Four and a half decades has transformed science fairs in ways both distressing and invigorating to an exhibitor whose first-hand experience dates from the early 1960s.

No longer is a science fair a showplace for bright youngsters to demonstrate actual experiments. Instead, judging from hours spent walking the aisles at the Canada-Wide Science Fair in Ottawa last week, today's participants are largely reduced to screening laptop videos of those experiments.

Organizers say they've had little choice but to strip away most of the fun from exhibiting at science fairs because of concerns over legal liability, animal rights, allergic reactions, fire regulations, litigious parents, and the Nanny State attitude in North American society that has reduced chemistry sets to a box of innocuous substances.

The danger is that such preoccupations might also have robbed science-fair projects of their hallmark zest and their penchant for venturing into the unknown.

I am relieved to report that this is not the case. The gymnasium floor at the University of Ottawa overflowed with hundreds of personable teens, whose inquiring minds are actively involved in real-life matters affecting their family, their peer group, their community and the world at large. Here are a few inspiring examples:

• When his grandmother had trouble getting around because of the ravages of cancer, Gary Kurek of Bonneville, Alta., began thinking and tinkering. The result, after two years, is a sturdy hybrid between an electric wheelchair and a wheeled walker. This $500 bargain combo allows users to walk when they have the energy – avoiding the unhealthy side effects of compulsory sitting – but also ride when needed. Now in Grade 10, the 16-year-old Kurek is pursuing further development of the Rollator Wheelchair with help from the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology.
• Jessica Ngai, a 16-year-old Grade 11 student at Marc Garneau Collegiate Institute in the Don Mills area, is fascinated with wind energy and bent on studying environmental engineering at the University of Waterloo. She's now also a dab hand with a drill press, thanks to guidance from her mechanical engineer father. Ngai needed to accurately drill holes in a steel cylinder to custom-make a wind turbine that tested blades that close when backing into the prevailing breezes during a rotation and open when being pushed. The flapping blades improved efficiency and Ngai is continuing her research.
• Caitlin Tolley wants to "revolutionize aboriginal housing" by publicizing the findings from her simple but elegant test of the effectiveness of types of home insulation. Using nothing more complicated than a utility knife, a digital thermometer and a deep freeze, the 17-year-old Algonquin from Maniwaki, Que., showed that two-inch Styrofoam panels hold in heat far longer than the more expensive R20 fibreglass batting.
• To investigate the link between stress and nicotine, Matt Kirby, 14, took advantage of the analytical resources at the University of Guelph lab of his father, a professor of biomedical science. The Grade 8 student nailed down one metabolic pathway involving the hormone cortisol that explains why people crave a smoke when they're under pressure. The highly sophisticated work using mouse-cell cultures and polymerase chain reaction (PCR) will probably see light in a peer-reviewed academic journal.
• The gold has left Kirkland Lake, but millions of tonnes of tailings from the mines haven't. Grade 9 students Karlee LaBerge and Lauren Murdoch set out to find a use for this dubious legacy, sparked by a U.S. report of mine waste being used for ceramics.

Deciding that ceramics raised too many production questions, they focused on making pavers and stepping stones. The two 15-year-olds went through a trial-and-error process that led to a suitable recipe: one part tailings, one part coarse sand, and two parts Portland cement. The air-cured result was certified by the concrete testing lab at Northern College.

There were dozens more projects attesting to the curiosity and ingenuity of today's teens: a self-levelling falcon kite from Kelsey Mostertman, 13, of Abbotsford B.C., to scare away starlings that devour blueberry crops; a low-tech, one-person Zamboni for outdoor rinks, conceived and constructed by Mike Gorda, 13, of North Bay; comprehensive experiments by Quinte Grade 7 student Corey Morrison demonstrating that orange-coloured pucks would substantially increase saves by goalies.

The Canada-Wide Science Fair provided welcome testimony to the true spirit of scientific inquiry and a poignant reminder of how far some science has strayed from it. Much of adult research today involves massive teams instead of inspired individuals, the "salami science" of publishing the smallest slice possible to maximize citations and even instances of the misappropriation of public funds with federal granting agencies hiding the identity of the wrong-doers.

Teenage science has also travelled light years since my fairs in 1960 and 1961. My examination as a 16-year-old of the internal structure of gastropods (the snail family) looks lame in comparison to the profound questions being tackled now by 13-year-olds.

For the fair the following year, I and two fellow Grade 13 students passed high-voltage current through ordinary table salt inside a refractory brick furnace to separate the constituent elements of chlorine and sodium, one poisonous and the other explosive.

It's a safe bet that no high school would allow its students to do anything similar today. Today's science-fair organizers blanched at the mere description. Yet no harm ensued and the others wound up as an orthodontist and a rubber chemist. It could be unwise to banish all edgy research from science fair projects.