|  | By Ian Sample Picking up a design tip from the penguins. IN AN old 
              Army hospital on the campus of Reading University, Colin Dawson 
              is being taught by penguins. What he hopes to learn is how, exactly, 
              they manage to survive on the coldest continent in the world -Antarctica. But his work with Dr Julian Vincent, 
              a director of the university's Centre for Biomimetics, isn't driven 
              by mere scientific curiosity. Understanding the penguin's secret 
              could help scientists design better clothing for humans working 
              in some of the most formidable environments on Earth. Indeed, their 
              research is being backed by the Defence Clothing and Textile Agency, 
              part of the Ministry of Defence. As Dawson explains: ''If you're 
              trying to design something to perform extremely well, it seems sensible 
              to look at something which is able to do it anyway.'' The whole notion 
              of looking to Nature for answers is steadily becoming a science 
              in itself. Because what Nature lacks in intelligence, she more than 
              compensates for in experience. Over hundreds of mil lions of years, 
              Nature has used simple trial and error to tackle problems similar 
              to those that scientists and engineers wrestle with every day.  And the results are everywhere; the bones in a bird's 
              wing are strong but incredibly light, while spider silk is as strong 
              as a steel, but incredibly elastic and completely recyclable. The 
              reason for Nature's success is clear; she doesn't suffer bad design. 
              ''In Nature,'' says Dr Vincent, ''the good designs eat the bad, 
              it's as simple as that.''  Even so, it's hard to imagine how Nature, using ''the 
              dumb mechanism of natural selection'', as Dawson puts it, can outsmart 
              our finest scientists and engineers. The answer, it seems, lies 
              in the fact that man has concentrated on using high temperatures, 
              high pressures and aggressive chemicals to make an everincreasing 
              variety of materials. In Nature's workshops almost everything must 
              be made at ambient temperature and pressure, and the most common 
              solvent is water. The result, says Dr Vincent, is simple: ''Whereas 
              engineers have majored on material, Nature has majored on design.'' 
              So restricted in her choice of materials, Nature was forced to invest 
              in structure. And because biological structures can be built up 
              from the tiniest blocks - molecule by molecule - the designs found 
              in Nature are often far more complex than anything we can produce 
              today.  AS A TESTING ground for biological design, there can 
              be few places as harsh as Antarctica. Dr Tony Williams of Simon 
              Fraser University in British Columbia spent three years studying 
              penguins on Bird Island, the British Antarctic Survey base in South 
              Georgia. ''In Antarctica,'' he says, ''the temperature goes down 
              to about - 40C, but there are also very strong winds, so the wind 
              chill can be extreme.''  Despite these bitter conditions, Emperor penguins 
              flock to Antarctica every year to breed. Their brief courtship produces 
              a single egg, which is left with the male to incubate. Balancing 
              the egg on his feet, the male will huddle with other penguins for 
              up to four months. None of them will eat during this period and 
              when the egg is ready to hatch, the parents will have lost almost 
              half of their body weight.  To help them endure such adverse conditions, Emperor 
              penguins have developed highly efficient insulation. But they don't 
              have a huge fatty layer. ''About 80 per cent of the insulation comes 
              from the feathers,'' says Williams. And while more birds' feathers 
              grow along a few welldefined tracks, penguins grow feathers all 
              over, so no part of their skin is exposed.  On land, penguins use tiny muscles to erect their 
              feathers, forming a barrier zone of still air around their bodies. 
              This is their first line of defence against the cold. The second 
              line of defence is the downy layers at the root of each feather. 
              This traps air very close to the skin, in extremely small, regularsized 
              pockets. The size of these air pockets is critical for good insulation 
              and through natural selection, Nature appears to have produce the 
              optimum structure. Each fibre of down has along its length, a number 
              of spikes, or nodes. When fibres from neighbouring plumes push into 
              each other, these nodes make the fibres buckle into regular sized 
              loops, producing a dense structure of tiny air pockets and by trapping 
              the air as efficiently as this, the penguin reduces i ts heat l 
              oss drastically.  But despite the penguin's success, we are unlikely 
              to end up waddling around in feather suits next winter. As Daedalus 
              and Icarus proved, it can be foolish to copy Nature slavishly. ''We 
              only need the essential features,'' emphasises Dawson. ''There are 
              some good ideas in there and my job is to go in and steal them.'' 
             And until he does, we can keep warm using another 
              of the penguin's tricks - we can all just huddle together.  BACK
 |