A notion is very prevalent that in the continuous progress of science some substitute for coal will be found—some source of motive power as far surpassing steam as steam surpasses animal labor. The fallacious notions afloat on the subject of electricity especially are unconquerable.
Electricity, in short, is to the present age what perpetual motion was to an age not far removed. People are so astonished at the subtle manifestations of electric power that they think the more miraculous the effects they anticipate from it are, the more profound the appreciation of its nature they show. But then they generally take that one step too far which the contrivers of the perpetual motion took—they treat electricity not only as a marvelous mode of distributing power, but as a source of self-creating power.
The great advances which have been achieved in the mechanical theory of nature, in the course of the nineteenth century, have greatly cleared up our notions of force and energy. It has been rendered apparent that the universe, from a material point of view, is one great manifestation of a constant aggregate of energy. The motion of falling bodies, the motions of magnetic or electric attractions, the unseen agitation of heat, the vibration of light, the molecular changes of chemical action, and even the mysterious life motions of plants and animals: all are but the several modes of greater or lesser motion. If we have energy in any one of its forms—as heat, light, chemical change, or mechanical motion—we can turn it, or may fairly hope to turn it, into any other of its forms. But to think of getting energy except from some natural source is as absurd as to think of making iron or gold out of vacant space.
We must look abroad, then, to compare the known sources of energy. Some distinct sources are of inconsiderable importance, such as the fall of meteoric stones, the fall of rocks, or the heat derivable from sulfur and other native combustible substances. The internal heat of the earth, again, presents an immense store of energy, but being powerfully manifested only in the hot spring or the volcano, it is not available to us. The tides arising from the attractions of the sun, earth, and moon present another source of power.
The remaining natural sources of energy are the complicated light, heat, chemical, and magnetic influences of the sun’s rays. The light, or chemical action, is the origin of organic fuel, in all its forms of wood, peat, bitumen, coal, etc., while the heat occasions the motions of the winds and falling waters. The electricity of the air and the thunderstorm, and the electric currents of the earth, are probably secondary effects of the other influences.
Now it will be easily seen that the resources of nature are almost unbounded, but that economy consists in discovering and picking out those almost infinitesimal portions which best serve our purpose. We disregard the abundant vegetation, and live upon the small grain of corn; we burn down the largest tree, so that we may use its ashes; or we wash away ten thousand parts of rock, and sand, and gravel, so that we may extract the particle of gold. Millions, too, live, and work, and die, in the accustomed grooves for the one Lee, or Savery, or Crompton, or Watt, who uses his minute personal contribution of labor to the best effect.
So material nature presents to us the aspect of one continuous waste of energy and matter beyond our control. The power we employ in the greatest engine is but an infinitesimal portion withdrawn from the immeasurable store of natural forces. But civilization, as Liebig said, is the economy of power, and consists of withdrawing and using our small fraction of energy in a happy mode and moment.
The rude forces of nature are too great for us, as well as too slight. It is often all we can do to escape injury from them, instead of making them obey us. And while the sun annually showers down upon us about a thousand times as much heat power as is contained in all the coal we raise annually, yet that thousandth part, being under perfect control, is a sufficient basis of all our economy and progress. Among the residual possibilities of unforeseen events, it is just possible that someday the sunbeams may be collected, or that some source of energy now unknown may be detected. But such a discovery would simply destroy our peculiar industrial supremacy.
From The Coal Question. Jevons studied chemistry and mathematics at University College, London, but left to work as an assayer at the Australian mint. His work was key to the development of the theory of marginal utility, which posited that the value of a commodity decreases when a consumer accumulates supply. He predicted that as Britain’s coal reserves ran out, producers could raise prices because of coal’s increasing utility. “We must not dwell in such a fool’s paradise as to imagine we can do without coal what we do with it,” Jevons writes elsewhere in this book.
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