Adhesion Matters - Whale-Derived Adhesives

Episode Date: August 4, 2025

During today's podcast, we review the historical use of whales in adhesive manufacturing.   In the past, whale cartilage was used to produce glue.  The whaling industry was busy extracting whale oil, spermaceti, and baleen for illumination, lubrication, and flexible materials.  Animal glues, derived from collagen, have an ancient history, dating back millennia and used across diverse industries like woodworking, art, and bookbinding. The process for making whale glue was similar to other animal glues, involving the conversion of collagen to gelatin through heat and water.   The decline of whale-derived adhesives was tied to two main factors: the overall decline of the whaling industry due to the discovery of petroleum (kerosene replacing whale oil) and severe whale depletion, and the rise of synthetic adhesives from the 1930s onwards, which offered cheaper and more versatile alternatives. Despite the decline, animal glues maintain niche applications today due to unique properties like reversibility, and modern production often utilizes recycled gelatin, highlighting resource efficiency.

Okay, let's unpack this. Could a creature as massive as a whale have been reduced to, well, glue? When we think of historical whaling, our minds usually go straight to oil for lamps or maybe Baleen for corsets, but glue. That's a truly surprising question, and it's exactly what we're diving into today. Our mission for this deep dive is to explore the historical and surprisingly nuanced use of whales in adhesive manufacturing. We'll uncover the science behind it, trace the much broader, ancient, history of animal glues, reveal the true economic drivers that powered the whaling industry, and ultimately understand why, despite existing, whale glue became little more than, well, a historical footnote.

It's a fascinating inquiry, really, because it touches on humanity's age-old quest to bond materials together. What's truly fascinating here isn't just what the historical record says, but how surprisingly silent it often is on the significance of something like whale glue. It tells us, you know, a lot about industrial priorities of the past. Right. Here's where it gets really interesting because the answer to was whale glue fact or fiction isn't a simple yes or no. It seems to come with a big asterisk.

Precisely. The direct answer is yes, it's a fact. Our review of historical records confirms that components from whales, specifically cartilage, were indeed used to produce glue. It's explicitly documented. So it wasn't just a myth, but then why is it such an obscure detail? Why don't we hear about it? Because despite that confirmation, a comprehensive dive into these very same historical records reveals that whale-derived adhesives were an incredibly minor byproduct within the

much larger whaling industry. They were not, by any stretch, a major economic driver. The single direct mention we found of whale cartilage glue stands in stark contrast to the, well, overwhelming documentation of every other whale product, which strongly suggests its extremely limited prominence. It's like finding, I don't know, a single grain of sand on a vast beak. It's there, sure, but it's not the beach itself. That's a powerful point. Sometimes what's missing from the records tells us more than what's present. So this footnote status for whale glue really comes into focus then. But if it existed, how did it actually work?

I mean, is there some unique property of whale cartilage or is the science of sticking more universal than we might imagine? The science is sticking, well, when it comes to animal glues, it's remarkably universal. We're talking about a class of natural polymers fundamentally derived from collagen. Think of collagen as the primary structural protein found in the skin, connective tissue, cartilage, and bones of virtually all mammals and fish. Okay, collagen, so that's the key ingredient. Exactly.

And the magic of it is surprisingly simple. You take that tough protein, collagen, and gently cook it in water. Think of it kind of like making jello, actually. That heat breaks down the collagen through a process we call hydrolysis, essentially, breaking it down with water, turning it into gelatin. And it's that gelatin, those tiny protein colloids that create the strong bond when it cools and sets. So it's not some complex chemical concoction, but more like a giant, probably very smelly kitchen operation. And how was this glue actually made? Was it a difficult process to get that gelatin into a usable form?

Like, did you need special equipment? It was remarkably straightforward, actually. Maybe smelly, like you said. The process typically involved taking those raw animal materials, skins, tendons, cartilage, bones, and subjecting them to high temperatures with water. The goal was to extract and then evaporate off most of the water, thickening the liquid into a concentrated glue. This glue was then dried into solid forms like granules, flakes, or even sheets. And it lasted forever once solid. Pretty much.

The cool thing, as you put it, is it's incredible shelf life. Once it's solid, it boasts an indefinite shelf life. When you were ready to use it, you just re-dissolved it in water and gently heated it, optimally around 60 degrees Celsius or 140 Fahrenheit, Though he had to be careful not to exceed 65 Celsius, about 150F, as higher temperatures can diminish its strength. And typically, the first batch extracted, the initial run, was considered the highest quality glue. Interesting. So given that universal process, were there different types of animal glues, or was it all pretty much the same stuff? Oh, there were definitely main categories, each with slightly different properties.

Hide glues, for instance, from animal skins and connective tissues like bovine or porcine, you know, cows or pigs, were generally considered the strongest and most versatile. Then you had bone glues, which, as the name suggests, came from bone structures and offered medium to lower strength. And finally, fish glues derived from fish skins, bones, cartilage, or even swim bladders, like icing glass. Maybe you've heard of that. Nicene glass. Yeah, vaguely. Used for a clarifying beer or wine sometimes. Exactly. That's the one.

It's incredibly clear and was historically used for clarifying liquids. Fish glues generally tend to be transparent, colorless, and have. have a lower gelling temperature, which gives them a longer working time. It's also worth clarifying something you might see in older texts. The term ichthyacola, derived from a whale-sized foge, actually refers to a very large fish, like a sturgeon, not a mammalian whale. A bit confusing, I know. Ah, okay, good distinction.

So whether it's from a cowhide or a fish bladder, the underlying science is remarkably consistent. Precisely. And that consistency, that universal principle you mentioned, really underpins this whole story, doesn't it? Yeah. It seems nature truly had a blueprint for glue and humanity just kept finding new sources for it. The fact that whale glue production would have been biochemically similar to any other

animal glue really highlights a historical and even modern practice using byproducts for resource efficiency, like how recycled gelatin is used today from pharmaceutical waste, for example. Right. Using every part of the animal, essentially. It does. And this leads us to an important question. Why did this ancient technology remain so prevalent for?

so long, even as other technologies advanced. I mean, the history of animal glues is truly millennia old. We have evidence from as far back as 6,000 years ago in South Africa, where it was used for repairing ceramics. Incredible, right? It's confirmed appearance dates to around 2000 BC in ancient Egypt, who was extensively used in woodworking, furniture, mural paintings, and even on the caskets of pharaohs. Six thousand years. Wow. And it wasn't just confined to Egypt, you said. This tech popped up everywhere. Absolutely. It had a truly global reach and often developed independently across diverse cultures. In Mesopotamia, hide-based glues were crucial for fastening wood, intricate inlays, and even adhering

delicate gold foil. The Greeks and Romans then adopted these methods for sophisticated techniques like veneering and marketry, as well as for everyday pottery repair. And in Asia, I know China has a long history with complex crafts. Indeed. The Chinese were using glues from fish, ox, and even staghorns for everything from woodworking and tool repair to binding pigments. You can still see evidence of this on the Terracod Army figures that pigment binder was likely animal glue. And it was even used in lamp black ink. Native American communities also developed their own variations using glues for things like water resistant coatings and binders. So it really was a universal toolkit essential for craft people everywhere.

Exactly. This widespread independent development underscores a fundamental human need. for strong, yet often reversible, adhesives. The Renaissance in 16th century Europe saw a revitalization of animal glue production, particularly for fine furniture, musical instruments like violins and bookbinding. By the 1700s, the first commercial glue factories were established in places like the Netherlands, England, and Germany. It's remarkable to think that animal glue remained the predominant adhesive until World War II. It shows just how foundational it was.

And its applications were incredibly diverse, weren't they? Not just sticking wood together. You mentioned unique properties. Reversibility, resistance to creep or shifting over time, high in Michel Tack, and that amazing ability to actually pull joint closer together as it dries, that's pretty neat. It really is. For thousands of years, woodworking was its absolute stronghold. You're right.

Everything from furniture to cherished musical instruments like violins, pianos and cellos, veneers, and marketry. That reversibility. The ability to take something apart without damage is why it's still favored today for antique repair. You could literally undo a joint made centuries ago, fix it, and put it back together. That's incredible for preservation. What about outside woodworking? Beyond woodworking, animal glues were absolutely critical in the arts.

They served as primary binders for pigments. We mentioned ancient Chinese art in the Terracotta Army. Artists use them for paper and parchment artifacts, icons, paintings, and eliminated manuscripts. In conservation and restoration, bone glue, for instance, was key for repairing frescoes and paintings. They also functioned as sizing agents, providing a protective and stiffening layer for paper, silk, cotton, wool, and even for preparing walls for painting. And the list really does go on. I read they were used in bookbinding. Yes, book binding relied on them, often using specific historical formulas, like those detailed by L.D. Davis. They were essential for manufacturing abrasive cloth and paper, sandpaper, basically.

Also for making paper containers and tubes, decorative composition ornaments like picture frames sometimes, and even as clarifying agents in various industrial processes. There was also something about glass art and matches. Right. In glass art, hide glue's unique shrinking property was harnessed to chip glass for decorative effects, glue chipping, they call it. And gelatin, essentially a refined animal blue, was a key component in the production of matches in the matchhead. Wow, it truly makes you think about how little went to waste in pre-industrial economies. Every single bit of an animal, it seems, had a meticulously thought out use. This whole utilization approach where byproducts from slaughterhouses and fisheries were repurposed for maximum value truly highlights the integrated supply chains of historical industries.

It wasn't just efficiency. It speaks to a profound historical necessity where waste simply wasn't an option. Kind of a stark contrast to our modern linear economies, isn't it? It's almost a forgotten art of resourcefulness that we're only now trying to rediscover through, you know, sustainability movements. That's a truly powerful insight. It really reframes how we look at industrial history. But let's bring it back to the whales. We've established whale glue existed, but it was a minor footnote. What were the real economic drivers of whaling then?

What were the main ends, the big money makers? Right. If we connect this to the bigger picture, the sheer scale and diversity of the primary whaling products truly dwarfs the very niche role of whale glue. While whale cartilage was used, like we said, it was marginal, the overwhelming majority of whaling efforts focused on other, far more significant products that were, frankly, essential to burgeoning industries in daily life back then. And these were the heavy hitters, the products that literally fueled the Industrial Revolution, right, like whale oil.

Absolutely. First and foremost, whale oil. This was the most commercially important product. Extracted from blubber through a process called trying out, essentially boiling it down, often right on the ship. It had an ancient history for elimination and lubrication, but its demand surged exponentially during the 19th century industrial revolution. It lit homes, streets, and lighthouses. It was a vital lubricant for the new machinery of the age used in tempering steel and screw cutting. It even found its way into soap, paint, varnish, and surprisingly, margarine. Margarine, okay, didn't expect that.

Then there was spermaceti, which sounds exotic. What was that? Spermissetti was a highly prized waxy oil found in the distinctive large head cavity of sperm whales. This was actually considered the most valuable single product of Yankee whaling, especially. It made the highest quality candles because it burned incredibly cleanly and brightly with no odor or drips the standard for candles. Beyond illumination, it served as a medicinal ointment, a sizing agent in wool combing, and a crucial lubricant for precision machinery, including early typewriters. Apparently, it uniquely maintained its viscosity at extreme

temperatures, which was key. Fascinating. And let's not forget, Bealeen or Whalebone, which you hear about a lot with corsets. It was like the plastic of its day. Exactly. That's a perfect description. plastic of the 1800s. Baleen refers to the long, flexible strips of keratin similar to our fingernails that hang from the upper jaws of baleen whales, which they used to filter feed. It was tough, yet incredibly flexible, making it ideal for everything from the rigid structure of course it stays in vast sker hoops to the practical ribs of umbrellas and parasols.

It was also used in buggy whips, carrot springs, fishing poles, frames for bags and hats, and even springs in early typewriters. It filled a similar structural but flexible role to what plastics do for us today. So those three whale oil, spermaceti, and baleen were the main story. But were there other smaller uses for whale products beyond glue? Any other footnotes? Oh, many others. Whale flesh was used for human and animal consumption or processed into fertilizer.

Their skin could be tanned for letter, though wasn't super common. Hormones and vitamins were sometimes extracted. Tendons were used for stringing things like tennis rackets or even for surgical stitching. And then there was ambergrice. Ah, ambergust. That's the really rare valuable stuff found floating, right? Used in perfume. That's the one. A rare intestinal byproduct of sperm whales, highly valued as a perfume stabilizer. Worth a fortune. Even whale bones and teeth were repurposed like ivory for novelty items such as snuff boxes, paperweights, pistol grips, chess pieces, piano keys, and famously carved into scrimshaw by sailors during long voyages. Beautiful artwork, really.

A little range of things. Exactly. And the consistent omission of. of whale glue from comprehensive historical accounts that meticulously detail all these other major whaling outputs that really truly highlights its marginal economic importance. This is an industry driven by light, lubrication, and flexible materials, not by adhesives. The glue was just there. It's incredible how many uses they found. But all these innovations, all these products eventually began to fade.

What led to the decline of this massive industry and in turn any use for whale derived adhesives? Was it just running out of whales? Well, that was part of it, certainly. But the decline of whale-derived products is linked to two major historical shifts that kind of converged. First, the whaling industry itself collapsed, largely due to economics. The pivotal moment was the discovery of petroleum in Pennsylvania in 1859. Kerosene, a cheaper and more efficient diluminent derived from petroleum, rapidly replace whale oil directly undercutting its primary market. So technology just leapfrogged it.

It was less about morality initially and more about sheer economics. Exactly. This technological displacement was huge, but it was coupled with severely depleted whale populations due to decades, even centuries, of unsustainable hunting rates. This made whaling increasingly difficult and unprofitable. By the mid-20th century, many whale populations were so low it simply wasn't economically viable to hunt them anymore. This scarcity combined with the development of cheaper substitutes for whale oil and baleen in various industries like cosmetics, food, textiles. It sealed the whaling industry's fate. Then later, international conservation efforts, like the International Whaling Commission's 1987 moratorium on commercial whaling, effectively ended large-scale commercial operations. Right.

And parallel to that, the broader market for traditional animal glues, not just whale glue, but all of them also experienced its own dramatic shift. What happened there? Yes, that's the other side of the coin. Animal glue was the predominant adhesive until well into World War II, as we discussed. But from the 1930s onwards, we saw the rapid rise of synthetic resin blues. Think PVA, the white glue we all know, and others like VAE, VAA. These offered compelling new properties.

They were cheaper, far more versatile, often stronger, and had significantly longer open times, meaning you had more time to work with them before they set. These synthetics rapidly gain market share, pushing animal glues out of many industrial applications. So industry just moved on? Pretty much. The animal glue market then experienced a significant. decline, particularly after, say, the mid-90s. This was due to other industrial shifts, too, like the increased use of disposable lighters over matches, cardboard boxes replacing

older types of paper containers, and a decreasing demand for hardcover books which used animal glue in binding. So it's really a dual narrative, then. One of technological displacement kerosene replacing whale oil and synthetic adhesives replacing natural glues, and the other of resource depletion whaling simply becoming unsustainable and unprofitable. Precisely. Any minor use of whale-derived adhesives was essentially marginalized from both ends, the collapse of their source industry and the wider advancements in adhesive chemistry that displaced animal glues generally. What's interesting from a broader perspective is that this historical transition, primarily driven by profit and economic efficiency, also had a profound, albeit initially unintended

environmental benefit for whale populations as the economic incentive for whaling just evaporated. That's a fascinating silver lining, isn't it, to an otherwise stark economic shift, but animal glues haven't vanished entirely, have they? You mentioned niche uses. What's their legacy today? No, they certainly haven't vanished. Despite synthetic dominance, animal glues retain important niche applications. Precisely because of those unique properties we mentioned earlier,

their reversibility, creep resistance, and specific working characteristics, they're still the preferred choice for highly specialized tasks like Luthrie. That's the making of stringed musical instruments like violins and guitars. also pipe organ building, piano repairs, and critical antique furniture restoration, where that reversibility is key. So still valued by craftspeople for specific jobs. Exactly. And thankfully, modern animal glue production has adapted to contemporary sustainability concerns.

Increasingly, it utilizes recycled gelatin, often from the food or pharmaceutical industries, transforming what was once industrial waste into valuable, environmentally friendly adhesives. That's great to hear. So to bring our deep dive full circle, the inquiry into the historical use of whales for adhesive manufacturing reveals a truly nuanced picture. Yes, whale components, specifically cartilage, were indeed used to produce glue in the past. That part's fact. And this fits perfectly into the long, really long in global history of animal glue production, which has utilized collagen from various animal sources for millennia. However, and this is the crucial part, a critical examination of historical records concerning the whaling industry clearly indicates that whaled or

derived adhesives held a very minor, almost invisible, and poorly documented position. Overwhelming, the primary economic drivers of commercial whaling were whale oil, spermaceti, and baleen. These were absolutely crucial for illumination, industrial lubrication, and flexible materials in a pre-plastic era. Whale glue was truly more of a historical footnote than a major industrial output, barely a blip on the radar. And this demonstrates, I think, how the absence of detailed information in numerous comprehensive sources can be just as informative as its presence. It tells us a compelling story about significance or really the lack thereof. What stands out to you most from this deep dive

into the unexpected world of whale glue? It certainly shifts how I think about historical industries and just how resourceful or sometimes maybe ruthlessly efficient humanity has been with natural resources over time. Definitely something to mull over until our next deep dive.