​Clear Aluminum: The Sci-Fi Material We Built Before They Thought We Would

A lot of time is spent complaining about how science reality pales in comparison to science fiction. "Instead of Captain Kirk and the USS Enterprise, we got the Priceline Negotiator and a cheap flight to Cabo," bemoans Peter Thiel's "Founders Fund" site.

But reality, crappy as it is, exceeds our expectations every now and then. Sure, there isn't a Pan-Am to the moon, but damnit, we had clear aluminum way before the crew of the USS Enterprise deigned to give it to the people of the 20th century in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

Aluminum oxynitride is a polycrystalline transparent ceramic that's transparent, light, and very strong, as is illustrated in the video of ALON in action above. The Massachusetts-Based company Surmet was awarded a $4.66 million contract by DARPA to develop a cost-effective way to manufacture this clear aluminum, which at this point is still impractical as compared to, say, sapphire.

It's easy to imagine why the defense industry wants something that's light, clear, and bulletproof, but there are also possible applications for the material in the world of cruise ships or airplanes, where windows are desirable but could compromise structural integrity.

It's very cool, even sci-fi, material, so much so that "clear aluminum" is an important plot point in the Leonard Nimoy-directed fourth Star Trek film.

It's been a long time since I've see Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, but from what the internet tells me, the gang travels back in time to, I think, 1986 because they need some humpback whales to talk to an alien probe in the present—which for you, me, and people in 1986, is the future, where humpback whales are extinct. Personally, if I'm a whale and the species that wiped us out needed our help, I'd say "fuck 'em," but whales seem like benevolent types. Maybe if they were meaner, they wouldn't go extinct.

Anyway, after a lot of wackiness in the past—which, at the time was the present—the Star Trekcrew needs a lot of plexiglass to take the whales to the future. And in exchange for the plexiglass, the Enterprise crew trades the secret of clear aluminum.

In selling the formula for transparent aluminum, the crew creates or fulfills some sort of time paradox, which in the context of the silliest Star Trekmovie (Spock silences a punk on a bus with a Vulcan nerve pinch) gets played for more laughs. Anyway, they get the whales or whatever.

But the tragic undercurrent of this movie (aside from the extinction of humpback whales) is that the man who sells them all that plexiglass is actually getting totally screwed. If the crew is selling the patent for aluminum oxynitride in 1986, then they're selling this poor bastard something that's already been patented for six years. I suppose "transparent aluminum" could be something totally different, but if it's just aluminum oxynitride, this is going to be getting a sort of Vulcan neck pinch to his dreams when he goes to file his patent.

Maybe the fate of future Earth is more important and the ends justify the means. Who's to say? The important thing is that 20th century people, for all of their flaws and world wars, didn't need Scotty to come waltzing in and sell them this idea. James W. McCauley and Normand D. Corbin invented the stuff, not some guy acting as a front for a futuristic Scotsman who can't use a computer.

Maybe you share Peter Thiel's disappointment that the best thing we can do with technology is extend the human lifespan, dramatically increase crop yields, and Twitter at each other. But as we wrap up "Materials Week" here at Motherboard, remember, in some ways we're ahead of where those snobs on the USS Enterprise thought we'd be. Although I, for one, am still waiting for a cheaper flight to Cabo.