Godine 1898, Mari and Pjer Kiri su otkrili radijum. Tvrdeći da ima obnavljajuća svojstva, radijum je dodavan u pastu za zube, lekove, vodu, i hranu. Sjajna, svetleća zelena bila je korišćena i u kozmetičkim proizvodima i za nakit. Tek sredinom 19. veka smo ustanovili da su štetna dejstva radijuma kao radioaktivnog elementa nadjačala njegove vizuelne blagodeti. Nažalost, radijum nije jedini pigment koji je istorijski izgledao bezazlen ili koristan ali se ispostavilo da je smrtonosan. Taj loš izbor uključuje i trio boja i pigmenata koje smo dugo koristili da ukrasimo sebe i stvari koje pravimo: bela, zelena, i narandžasta. Naša priča počinje sa belom. Čak u dalekom IV veku pre nove ere, Stari Grci su obrađivali olovo da naprave danas poznate brilijantne bele pigmente. Problem? Ljudsko telo direktno apsorbuje olovo i ono ide direktno u krvotok, mekana tkiva, i mineralizovana tkiva. Jednom kada uđe u nervni sistem, olovo utiče na normalnu funkciju kalcijuma, izazivajući štetu od posebnih intelektualnih potreba do visokog krvnog pritiska. Ipak praksa korišćenja toksičnih pigmenata nastavila je kroz različite vremenske periode i kulture. Olovna bela je bila jedini praktičan izbor za belu uljanu ili tempera boju sve do 19. veka. Da bi napravili svoje boje, umetnici bi samleli kocku olova u prah, izlažući se visoko toksičnim česticama prašine. Slobodna upotreba pigmenta je rezultirala u takozvanoj slikarskoj kolici, ili što bi sada zvali trovanjem olovom. Umetnici koji su radili sa olovom žalili su se na slabost, melanholiju, kašljanje, uvećane zenice, pa čak i slepilo. Ali gustoća, jačina, i topao ton olovne bele bili su neodoljivi umetnicima kao Vermeeru i kasnije, impresionistima. Njen sjaj nije mogao biti nadmašen i pigment je široko korišćen sve dok nije bio zabranjen 1970-ih. Loše koliko i zvuči, opasni uticaji bele blede u poređenju sa drugim, još šire rasprostranjenim pigmentom, zelenom. Dve sintetičke zelene, Šeleova zelena i Pariško zelena su se prvi put pojavile u 18. veku. Bile su mnogo življe i impresivnije nego relativno dosadne zelene napravljene od prirodnih pigmenata, tako da su brzo poslale popularni izbori za boju kao i farbu za tkaninu, tapete, sapune, ukrase za torte, igračke, slatkiše, i odeću. Ovi zeleni pigmenti su napravljeni od jedinjenja ugljenik hidro arsenik. Kod ljudi izloženost arseniku može oštetiti način na koji ćelije komuniciraju i funkcionišu. I visok nivo arsenika je bio direktno povezan sa rakom i bolestima srca. Kao rezultat, radnici u fabrikama u 18. veku su često bili otrovani, a žene u zelenim haljinama bi se kako kažu onesvestile od izloženosti arseniku na njihovoj koži. Govorilo se da stenice nisu živele u zelenim sobama, i čak se špekulisalo da je Napoleon umro od sporog trovanja arsenikom od spavanja u svojoj sobi sa zelenim tapetama. Intenzivna toksičnost ovih zelenih ostaje tajna dok recept sa arsenikom nije objavljen 1822. A vek kasnije, ponovo se upotrebljava kao insekticid. Sintetička zelena je verovatno bila najopasnija boja u širokoj upotrebi, ali bar nije imala radijumovo svojstvo radioaktivnosti. Ali druga boja jeste - narandžasta. Pre Prvog svetskog rata, bilo je uobičajeno za proizvođače keramičkog suđa da koriste uranijum oksid u obojenim glazurama. Jedinjenje je proizvodilo divne crvene i narandžaste, koje su bile prijemčivi atributi, da nije bilo radijacije koju su emitovali. Naravno radijacija je bila nešto čega nismo bili svesni do kasnih 1800-ih, a tek veza sa rizikom od raka koji smo otkrili mnogo kasnije. Tokom Drugog svetskog rata, vlada SAD-a je konfiskovala sav uranijum za pravljenje bombe. Ipak, komisija za atomsku energiju je ublažila te restrikcije 1959. i smanjila količinu uranijuma vraćenog na podove fabrika keramike i stakla. Narandžasto suđe pravljeno tokom sledeće decenije još uvek može imati rizične elemente na svojoj površini do dana današnjeg. Naj poznatije, staro "Fijesta" posuđe ima pozitivna očitavanja na radioaktivnost Dok su nivoi dovoljno niski da zvanično ne predstavljaju rizik po zdravlje ako su na polici, američka EPA upozorava da ne treba jesti hranu iz njih. Iako mi još uvek možemo naleteti na probleme sa sintetičkim bojama za hranu naše naučno razumevanje nam je pomoglo da iskorenimo boje opasne po život.
In 1898, Marie and Pierre Curie discovered radium. Claimed to have restorative properties, radium was added to toothpaste, medicine, water, and food. A glowing, luminous green, it was also used in beauty products and jewelry. It wasn't until the mid-20th century we realized that radium's harmful effects as a radioactive element outweighed its visual benefits. Unfortunately, radium isn't the only pigment that historically seemed harmless or useful but turned out to be deadly. That lamentable distinction includes a trio of colors and pigments that we've long used to decorate ourselves and the things we make: white, green, and orange. Our story begins with white. As far back as the 4th century BCE, the Ancient Greeks treated lead to make the brilliant white pigment we know today. The problem? In humans, lead is directly absorbed into the body and distributed to the blood, soft tissues, and mineralized tissues. Once in the nervous system, lead mimics and disrupts the normal functions of calcium, causing damages ranging from learning disabilities to high blood pressure. Yet the practice of using this toxic pigment continued across time and cultures. Lead white was the only practical choice for white oil or tempera paint until the 19th century. To make their paint, artists would grind a block of lead into powder, exposing highly toxic dust particles. The pigment's liberal use resulted in what was known as painter's colic, or what we'd now call lead poisoning. Artists who worked with lead complained of palseys, melancholy, coughing, enlarged retinas, and even blindness. But lead white's density, opacity, and warm tone were irresistible to artists like Vermeer, and later, the Impressionists. Its glow couldn't be matched, and the pigment continued to be widely used until it was banned in the 1970s. As bad as all that sounds, white's dangerous effects pale in comparison to another, more wide-spread pigment, green. Two synthetic greens called Scheele's Green and Paris Green were first introduced in the 18th century. They were far more vibrant and flashy than the relatively dull greens made from natural pigments, so they quickly became popular choices for paint as well as dye for textiles, wallpaper, soaps, cake decorations, toys, candy, and clothing. These green pigments were made from a compound called cupric hydrogen arsenic. In humans, exposure to arsenic can damage the way cells communicate and function. And high levels of arsenic have been directly linked to cancer and heart disease. As a result, 18th century fabric factory workers were often poisoned, and women in green dresses reportedly collapsed from exposure to arsenic on their skin. Bed bugs were rumored not to live in green rooms, and it's even been speculated that Napoleon died from slow arsenic poisoning from sleeping in his green wallpapered bedroom. The intense toxicity of these green stayed under wraps until the arsenic recipe was published in 1822. And a century later, it was repurposed as an insecticide. Synthetic green was probably the most dangerous color in widespread use, but at least it didn't share radium's property of radioactivity. Another color did, though - orange. Before World War II, it was common for manufacturers of ceramic dinnerware to use uranium oxide in colored glazes. The compound produced brilliant reds and oranges, which were appealing attributes, if not for the radiation they emitted. Of course, radiation was something we were unaware of until the late 1800s, let alone the associated cancer risks, which we discovered much later. During World War II, the U.S. government confiscated all uranium for use in bomb development. However, the atomic energy commission relaxed these restrictions in 1959, and depleted uranium returned to ceramics and glass factory floors. Orange dishes made during the next decade may still have some hazardous qualities on their surfaces to this day. Most notably, vintage fiestaware reads positive for radioactivity. And while the levels are low enough that they don't officially pose a health risk if they're on a shelf, the U.S. EPA warns against eating food off of them. Though we still occasionally run into issues with synthetic food dyes, our scientific understanding has helped us prune hazardous colors out of our lives.