Science at Play

A girl at a kitchen table in the 1960s, peering at plant cells through a microscope . . .

An adult scientist in a laboratory today, experimenting, asking questions, testing hypotheses . . .

All are playing with science, following their curiosity to investigate the endless variety of the natural world.

Other science toys, . . .

including portable experiment boxes and optical-illusion devices, . . .

evolved from apparatus used in lecture-demonstrations during the 1700s and 1800s.

Chemistry sets and other miniature laboratories made specifically for children appeared in the early 1900s and soon became mass-marketed consumer goods.

Discover the fascinating worlds of science play!

Brothers Harold and John Porter believed that magic could entice
children to learn about science. In 1916, working in their basement in
Hagerstown, Maryland, the Porters assembled simple sets of chemicals that could
produce dramatic but relatively safe effects: invisible inks, liquids that changed color,
and more. 

The Porter Chemical Company’s boxes of “Chemical Magic” were the first modern chemistry sets for children.

The Porter Chemical Company’s earliest chemistry sets retailed for 75 cents to 1 dollar at department stores in 1916. These were high prices for toys at a time when the average weekly wage was 7 to 10 dollars.

Porter's Chemcraft soon became a mass-marketed brand. By 1939 Porter claimed to be the single largest global consumer of glass test tubes. Children all over the world wrote letters to “Chemcraft, U.S.A.”: the U.S. Postal Service made sure the mail reached its destination.

“Exotic” imagery enhanced the allure of chemical magic. Manuals often showed illustrations of robed alchemists or magicians from an imaginary East: mustachioed men in turbans waving wands or gazing into crystal balls.

Such ethnic and racial stereotypes contrasted with the career-focused imagery of standard chemistry-set manuals.

Microscopes made for children during the 1900s were scaled-down, simplified versions of grown-up instruments.

Even moderate magnification showed striking details invisible to the naked eye, such as the hairs on a spider’s leg.

In the 1920s toy microscope sets rose in popularity and were often sold alongside chemistry sets. Manufacturers emphasized the sturdy construction and quality optics of the microscopes in their sets.

They also provided chemicals and tools . . .

so that children could prepare their own microscope slides for viewing.

Even though lawmakers excluded chemistry sets from the 1969 law because of their educational purpose, later regulations affected the sets’ contents and labeling.

Manufacturers removed alcohol lamps and strong acids and added specific warnings to vials of chemicals.

Around the same time, playing with science became less about chemicals and microscopes and more about batteries, buttons, and beeps. Video games and electronic toys began to dominate the toy market during the 1970s, gradually displacing such classic educational playthings as electric trains and chemistry sets.

“Safe—Non-Explosive—Contains No Dangerous Poisons of any Kind” states the booklet for this small, early set.

It included ferric ammonium sulfate, sodium silicate solution, and sodium ferrocyanide.

These chemicals, relatively harmless by themselves when handled safely, today would have labels warning that they cause skin and eye irritation and are hazardous if ingested.

The lid on this set emphasizes its fun, safety, and educational messages . . .

with a string of exclamation points . . .

and a seal of commendation from Parents’ Magazine. Skil-Craft, a Chicago toy company, used its Handy Andy mascot primarily for selling carpentry tool sets.

Some sets focused on household or kitchen chemistry, which could presumably appeal to both genders.

With this set children could make “useful household and beauty items,” such as silver polish and cold cream.

For decades, however, many women with science training were shunted into subordinate roles in laboratories and other workplaces, “serving as another pair of hands,” as research chemist and technical editor Ethaline Cortelyou wrote in the Chemical Bulletin in 1958.

Girls actively participated in science clubs and competitions. In 1958 Julie Gunderson became the first girl to win Porter Chemical’s College Scholarship Contest. Porter’s catalogue for dealers described the upcoming 1959 contest as a “sensationally successful merchandising idea.”

The design of chemistry sets reinforced their career-building messages. Boxes and cases, with their tidy arrays of vials and tubes, mimicked lab benches. Pictures on the sets and booklets showed laboratories or industrial workplaces.

Some sets featured boys (and occasionally girls) holding up test tubes or peering into microscopes, . . .

along with shadowy images of the adult scientists they could become.