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Organizational Communication
Second Edition
Dennis:

To the memory of Grace Mortimer Mumby 1925–2018

A long life well lived

Tim:

To Sophia Hinojosa

Mi bonita . . . te amo siempre

Organizational Communication

A Critical Introduction

Second Edition

Dennis K. Mumby
University of North Carolina at
Chapel Hill
Timothy R. Kuhn
University of Colorado Boulder
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Brief Contents
1. Preface
2. Acknowledgments
3. PART I. STUDYING ORGANIZATIONS CRITICALLY
1. 1. What Is Organizational Communication?
2. 2. Developing a Critical Approach to Organizational
Communication
4. PART II. STUDYING ORGANIZATIONAL
COMMUNICATION HISTORICALLY
1. 3. Fordism and Organizational Communication
2. 4. Organizations as Communication Systems
3. 5. Communication, Culture, and Organizing
5. PART III. CRITICAL PERSPECTIVES ON
ORGANIZATIONAL COMMUNICATION AND THE NEW
WORKPLACE
1. 6. Post-Fordism and Organizational Communication
2. 7. Power and Resistance at Work
3. 8. Communicating Gender at Work
4. 9. Communicating Difference at Work
5. 10. Branding, Work, and Consumption
6. 11. Leadership Communication in the New Workplace
7. 12. Information and Communication Technologies in/at Work
8. 13. Organizational Communication, Globalization, and
Corporate Social Responsibility
9. 14. Communication, Meaningful Work, and Personal Identity
6. Glossary
7. References
8. Index
9. About the Authors
Detailed Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
PART I. STUDYING ORGANIZATIONS CRITICALLY
1. What Is Organizational Communication?
Time, Space, and the Emergence of the Modern
Organization
Organizations as Communicative Structures of Power
Defining Organizational Communication
The Communication–Organization Relationship
Communication in Organizations
Organizations as Communication
Interdependence
Differentiation of Tasks and Functions
Goal Orientation
Control Processes
Direct Control
Technological Control
Bureaucratic Control
Ideological Control
Biocratic Control
Summarizing the Five Forms of Control
Communication, Organizations, and Work
Critical Research 1.1: Lucas, “The Working Class
Promise”
Critical Case Study 1.1: A Conduit Model of Education
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
2. Developing a Critical Approach to Organizational
Communication
Understanding Theory in the Critical Analysis of
Organizational Communication
Unpacking the Critical Approach
Karl Marx
 Marx’s Key Issues
Critiquing Marx
The Institute for Social Research (the Frankfurt
School)
Critical Theory and the Critique of Capitalism
Critical Theory and the Critique of
Enlightenment Thought
Critiquing the Frankfurt School
Cultural Studies
Critical Research 2.1: Collinson, “Engineering Humor”
Critiquing Cultural Studies
Critical Case Study 2.1: Making Sense of Traffic Lights
Understanding Organizational Communication From a
Critical Perspective
Organizations Are Socially Constructed Through
Communication Processes
Organizations Are Political Sites of Power
Organizations Are Key Sites of Human Identity
Formation in Modern Society
Organizations Are Important Sites of Collective
Decision Making and Democracy
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
PART II. STUDYING ORGANIZATIONAL
COMMUNICATION HISTORICALLY
3. Fordism and Organizational Communication
The Fordist Organization
Fordism as a Technical-Rational System
A Divided, Deskilled Labor Process
Direct, Technological, and Bureaucratic Forms
of Control
Production-Oriented, With Large Economies of
Scale
Fordism as a Sociopolitical System
Stable, Lifetime Employment
Internal Labor Market
Clear Work-Life Separation
The Emergence of a Consumer Society
 Fordism and Scientific Management
Frederick Taylor’s Principles of Scientific
Management
A Critical Assessment of Scientific Management
Fordism and Bureaucracy
Weber’s Types of Authority
Charismatic Authority
Traditional Authority
Rational–Legal Authority
A Critical Assessment of Bureaucracy
Critical Case Study 3.1: Rationalizing Emotions
Fordism and the Human Relations School
Elton Mayo and the Hawthorne Studies
The Hawthorne Studies
The Illumination Studies (1924–1927)
The Relay Assembly Test Room (RATR)
Studies (April 1927–February 1933)
The Interview Program (September 1928–
January 1931)
The Bank Wiring Observation Room Study
(November 1931–May 1932)
Critical Research 3.1: Hassard, “Rethinking the
Hawthorne Studies”
Implications of the Hawthorne Studies
A Critical Assessment of the Human Relations
School
Fordism and Human Resources Management
Douglas McGregor’s Theory X and Theory Y
Rensis Likert’s Four Systems Approach
Critically Assessing Human Resource Management
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
4. Organizations as Communication Systems
Situating the Systems Perspective
The Principles of the Systems Perspective
Interdependence
Holism
 Input, Transformation (Throughput), and Output of
Energy
Negative Entropy
Equilibrium, Homeostasis, and Feedback
Hierarchy
Goals
Equifinality
The “New Science” of Systems Theory: Complexity and
Chaos
Complexity
Chaos
Self-Organizing Systems
Critical Research 4.1: Orlikowski, “Improving
Organizational Transformation Over Time”
Karl Weick: Organizing and Communicating
Weick’s Model of Organizing: Enactment, Selection,
and Retention
A Critical Perspective on Weick
Critical Case Study 4.1: Airlines and Equivocality
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
5. Communication, Culture, and Organizing
The Emergence of the Cultural Approach
Two Perspectives on Organizational Culture
The Pragmatist Approach: Organizational Culture as
a Variable
The Purist Approach: Organizational Culture as a
Root Metaphor
Critical Research 5.1: Riad, “The power of
“organizational culture” as a discursive formation in
merger integration”
A Broader Conception of “Organization”
The Use of Interpretive, Ethnographic Methods
The Study of Organizational Symbols, Talk, and
Artifacts
Critical Case Study 5.1: Organizational Culture and
Metaphors
Organizational Stories and Power
 Summarizing the Two Perspectives
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
PART III. CRITICAL PERSPECTIVES ON
ORGANIZATIONAL COMMUNICATION AND THE NEW
WORKPLACE
6. Post-Fordism and Organizational Communication
The Fall of Fordism and the Rise of Post-Fordism
Neoliberalism as an Economic System
Neoliberalism as a Hegemonic Discourse
The Enterprise Self
Critical Research 6.1: Sullivan & Delaney, “A Femininity
that ‘Giveth and Taketh Away’”
Work Insecurity
Identity Insecurity
Critical Case Study 6.1: Is Oprah a Neoliberal?
The Post-Fordist Workplace: A New Organizational
Model
The “Fissured” Workplace
A Flexible Organizational Structure
A High Trust, “Dedifferentiated” Labor Process
Communication, the “Social Factory,” and
Immaterial Labor
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
7. Power and Resistance at Work
The Community Power Debate
The One-Dimensional Model of Power
The Two-Dimensional Model of Power
The Three-Dimensional Model of Power
Power, Ideology, and Organizational Communication
Critical Research 7.1: Michel, “Transcending
Socialization”
Resisting Workplace Control
The Hidden Resistance of Flight Attendants
Critical Case Study 7.1: Steven Slater, Folk Hero?
 Biopower and Organizational Communication
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
8. Communicating Gender at Work
Feminist Perspectives on Organizational Communication
Liberal Feminism: Creating a Level Playing Field
Radical Feminism: Constructing Alternative
Organizational Forms
Critical Feminism: Viewing Organizations as
Gendered
Masculinity and Organizational Communication
Critical Research 8.1: Barber, “The Well-Coiffed Man”
Critical Case Study 8.1: Performing Working-Class
Masculinity
Sexual Harassment in the Workplace
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
9. Communicating Difference at Work
Defining Difference at Work
Race and Organizational Communication
Putting Race and Organization in Historical Context
Race and the Contemporary Workplace
Interrogating Whiteness and Organizational
Communication
Critical Research 9.1: Trethewey, “Reproducing and
Resisting the Master Narrative of Decline”
Sexuality and Organizational Communication
Gay Workers and Heteronormativity
Instrumental Uses of the Body and Sexuality
Critical Case Study 9.1: Sexualizing and Racializing the
Retail Experience
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
10. Branding, Work, and Consumption
 Branding and Capitalism in the 20th Century
Critical Case Study 10.1: Diamonds Are Forever?
The Evolution of Branding: Three Models
Fordism and Mass Marketing (Approx. 1945–1980)
Niche Marketing and Authenticity (1980s–Late
1990s)
The Brand as Institution (Late 1990s–Present)
Critical Case Study 10.2: Alex From Target
Work, Branding, and the Entrepreneurial Self
Critical Research 10.1: Cova, Pace & Skålén, “Marketing
With Working Consumers”
The Ethics of Branding
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
11. Leadership Communication in the New Workplace
Traditional Perspectives on Leadership
The Trait Approach
The Style Approach
The Situational Approach
Summary
New Approaches to Leadership
Leadership as Symbolic Action
Transformational Leadership
Followership
Critical Case Study 11.1: Leadership Lessons from
“Dancing Guy”
A Critical Communication Perspective on Leadership
Leadership and Disciplinary Power
Resistance Leadership
Narrative Leadership
Critical Research 11.1: Holm & Fairhurst, “Configuring
Shared and Hierarchical Leadership Through Authoring”
Critical Case Study 11.2: Re-Imagining Leadership:
Diversity Training at Starbucks
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
12. Information and Communication Technologies in/at Work
Understanding Technology
New Technologies, New Challenges
Platform Capitalism
Algorithmic Management
Critical Research 12.1: Barbour, Treem, & Kolar,
“Analytics and Expert Collaboration”
Mobile Communication and the Extension of the
Workplace
Managing Knowledge and Monitoring Workers
Storing Knowledge: KM Repositories
Distributed Knowledge Creation: Crowdsourcing
Transparency and Surveillance
Critical Case Study 12.1: Working at Amazon
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
13. Organizational Communication, Globalization, and
Corporate Social Responsibility
Defining Globalization
Spheres of Globalization
Globalization and Economics
Gender, Work, and Globalization
Critical Case Study 13.1: Work, Technology, and
Globalization in the Call Center
Globalization and Politics
Organizing Against Globalization
Globalization and Corporate Social Responsibility
Forms of CSR
Critical Research 13.1: Haack, Schoeneborn & Wickert,
“Talking the Talk, Moral Entrapment, Creeping
Commitment?”
CSR as Communication
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
14. Communication, Meaningful Work, and Personal Identity
Meaningful Work
 Enables a Sense of Agency
Enhances Belonging or Relationships
Creates Opportunities for Influence
Permits Use and Development of Talents
Offers a Sense of Contribution to a Greater Good
Critical Research 14.1: Dempsey & Sanders, “Meaningful
Work?”
Provides Income Adequate for a Decent Living
Managing Work Identity: Some Historical Context
Creating and Managing Work Identities
Identity, Identification, and Disidentification
Conformist Selves
Dramaturgical Selves
Resistant Selves
No Collar, No Life
Critical Case Study 14.1: The Politics of Personal
Branding
Conclusion
Critical Applications
Key Terms
Student Study Site
Glossary
References
Index
About the Authors
Preface

It’s been quite a while (decades, in fact) since we were students, taking
the sort of course you’re in now. And though our memories of those days
may be a little fuzzy, we recall never really liking the textbooks we were
assigned. They were dry and uninteresting attempts to capture large
bodies of theory and research, which reduced the complex scholarly
literature into lists that we had to regurgitate on exams. As professors,
those frustrations grew only stronger. Although there are several terrific
organizational communication textbooks (a few of them written by
scholars we deeply respect), finding a textbook that fits with the way we
approach this course proved challenging. Specifically, the typical
textbook is written as if from nowhere. It’s hard to tell from reading the
book if the author has a particular perspective or set of assumptions that
he or she brings to the study of the topic. In other words, most textbooks
read as though they’re offering an objective, authoritative account of a
particular body of knowledge; the author’s voice almost never appears.
But the truth is that every theory and every program of research you’ve
ever read about in your college career operates according to a set of
principles—a perspective, if you like—that shapes the very nature of the
knowledge claims made by that research.

Now this does not mean that all research is biased in the sense of simply
being the expression of a researcher’s opinions and prejudices; all good
research is rigorous and systematic in its exploration of the world around
us. Rather, all researchers are trained according to the principles and
assumptions of a particular academic community (of which there are
many), and academic communities differ in their beliefs about what
makes good research. That’s why there are debates in all fields of
research. Sometimes those debates are over facts (this or that is or isn’t
true), but more often those debates are really about what assumptions
and theoretical perspectives provide the most useful and insightful way
to study a particular phenomenon.

Certainly, the field of organizational communication is no different. In

the 1980s, our field went through paradigm debates in which a lot of
time was spent arguing over the “best” perspective from which to study
organizations—a debate in which Dennis was a key participant (Corman
& Poole, 2000; Mumby, 1997, 2000). Fortunately, the result of these
debates was a richer and more interesting field of study; some disciplines
are not so lucky and end up divided into oppositional camps, sometimes
for many decades.

As you can probably see, we’re not going to try to overview, in objective
fashion, the many perspectives and stances characterizing the
organizational communication field over its history. Our interpretation of
the literature, as well as our selection of which literature to include, is
shaped by our shared critical orientation. We describe what that means in
Chapter 2, but here we should position ourselves: We should address
what brought us to this field and how our experiences shape the critical
stance from which this book is written. How we got here matters.

For the past 30 years or so Dennis has been writing about organizations
from what can broadly be described as a critical perspective. But he
didn’t start out as an organizational communication scholar. In the late
1970s as an undergraduate at Sheffield Hallam University, Dennis
pursued a BA in communication studies—the first such degree of its kind
in the United Kingdom. There, exposed to the cultural studies
perspective that we’ll discuss in Chapter 2, Dennis developed a strong
interest in how communication and power work in the context of
everyday life. How does communication shape people’s realities, and
how do some people or groups have more influence over the shaping of
reality than others? As an undergraduate, Dennis had never heard of
organizational communication, but when he moved to the United States
to pursue a PhD, he discovered that some scholars were beginning to
think about how we could study organizations as important sites of
power and control that shape societal meanings and human identities in
significant ways. Thus, he realized that he could apply his broad-based
interest in communication and power to an important social context—the
organization. Over 35 years later, he still finds organizations endlessly
fascinating as communication contexts for examining how people’s
social realities of identities are shaped. Thus, Dennis is less interested in
things such as how efficient organizations are (a perspective that some
researchers would take) and more interested in how they function as
communication phenomena that have a profound—sometimes good,
sometimes bad—impact on who we are as people. We spend almost all
our time in organizations of one kind or another, and certainly our entire
work lives are spent as members of organizations, so it’s extremely
important to understand the implications of our organizational society of
various kinds for who we are as people.

For Tim, the path was a little different. He traces his early interest in
organizational communication to conversations around his family’s
dinner table, when his father would regale the family with stories of the
workplace that day. As a mid-level manager in charge of juice production
for a well-known health products company, he regularly complained
about the managers above him, who were inevitably shortsighted and
petty. During Tim’s senior year of high school, his father was fired from
that job, and the conversations around the dinner table made it clear that
Dad’s strong distrust of (and lack of respect for) authority was at the root
of his firing. When the same thing happened at two similar positions
over the next few years, questions of power and identity in the workplace
became fascinating. Around the same time that his father lost his job, his
mother resumed her career as a kindergarten teacher (until then, Tim’s
mother was a homemaker—an occupation that, sadly, rarely registers as
“work”). The amount of effort she devoted to her classroom was
astounding. She worked late into the evening, almost every evening,
commenting on students’ work, creating lesson plans, and producing
materials for the classroom. She earned a fraction of the salary Tim’s
father did for work that seemed even more important and didn’t seem to
deal with the same shortsighted managers as her husband did, and her
passion extended the workday well past when he had finished. A
different set of questions about power, identity, and the workplace
entered Tim’s mind. He didn’t know it then, but the seeds were planted
for understanding organizations, and organizing processes, as shot
through with power; he also started wondering about how workers’ (i.e.,
his parents’) identities were constructed so differently and how those
identities produced rather different outcomes. He eventually came
around to seeing communication processes as key to establishing (and
displaying and modifying) identities, coordinating with others,
negotiating authority, and enacting resistance—and his research has
revolved around how communication constitutes the very organizations
in which those processes are accomplished.
Overview of the Book
But what does this have to do with writing a textbook? We believe that a
textbook should not only adequately reflect the breadth of different
perspectives in a field, but it should also adopt its own perspective from
which a field is studied. It makes no sense that an author should have to
check his or her theoretical perspective at the door when he or she
becomes a textbook author—the pretense of neutrality and objectivity we
mentioned above. In fact, from a student perspective, reading a textbook
that’s explicit about its theoretical orientation makes for a much richer
educational experience. It’s hard to engage in an argument with someone
when that person refuses to state his or her position; when you know
where someone is coming from, you are better able to engage with his or
her reasoning, as well as articulate your own perspective. Dialogue is
possible!

So it’s important to us that you know up front who you’re dealing with
here.

Furthermore, the way we’ve structured this textbook does not mean that
it is only about the critical perspective. In some ways it is a “traditional”
textbook in its coverage of the major research traditions that have
developed in the field over the past 100 years. The difference from other
textbooks lies in our use of the critical perspective as the lens through
which we examine these traditions. Thus, the critical perspective gives us
a particular—and powerful—way of understanding both organizational
life and the theories and research programs that have been developed to
understand it. So as you are reading this book, keep reminding yourself
“These guys are working from the perspective of critical theory—how
does that shape the way they think about organizations? What
conclusions does it lead them to, and how might other assumptions lead
in different directions?” Also ask yourself “When do I agree with Dennis
and Tim, and when do I disagree with them? Why do I agree or disagree,
where did my own beliefs come from, and what does that tell me about
my own view of the world?”

In addition to the critical perspective we adopt in this book, we’re also

bringing a particular communication approach. Rather than thinking of
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
smoke candle, certain of the smoke grenades and in various forms
of colored smokes. The basis of this was the Berger Mixture, which
had the composition:
Zinc 25
Carbon tetrachloride 50
Zinc oxide 20
Kieselguhr 5
This formula produced a light gray carbon smoke, with much
carbon in the residue. In this mixture the zinc and carbon
tetrachloride react to form zinc chloride and carbon; the kieselguhr
keeps the mixture solid by absorbing the tetrachloride, while the zinc
oxide is practically useless, as its absorbing power is small.
In order to accelerate the reaction and to oxidize the carbon,
thereby changing the color of the smoke from gray to white, an
oxidizing agent was added. Sodium chlorate was chosen for
economic reasons. The reaction now proved to be too violent, and
the zinc oxide was replaced by ammonium chloride. This cooled the
smoke, retarded the rate of burning and added to the density of the
smoke, since the obscuring power of the ammonium chloride is high.
The kieselguhr was replaced by precipitated magnesium carbonate,
which is as good an absorbent, gives a much smoother burning
mixture, and also adds somewhat to the density of the smoke by
virtue of the magnesium mechanically expelled. The mixture then
had the composition:
Zinc 34.6
Carbon tetrachloride 40.8
Sodium chlorate 9.3
Ammonium chloride 7.0
Magnesium carbonate 8.3

Size of Smoke Particles

 In the problem of smoke production, the size of the particle is of
great importance. Being a physical quantity it can easily be
correlated with such physical properties as settling, diffusion,
coagulation, and evaporation. These factors are more important in
connection with toxic smokes, since there the penetration factor
must be considered.
Smoke appears to consist of particles of all sizes from 10⁻³ cm.,
which may just be resolved by the unaided eye, to molecular
dimensions, 10⁻⁸ cm. The larger particles settle out most rapidly and
so do not remain long in suspension.

Measurement
Wells and Gerke have developed a form of ultra-microscope
which is well adapted to the measurement of the size of smoke
particles. The ultra-microscope is a low power microscope using
intense dark ground illumination for viewing particles which are too
small to be seen by transmitted light. They are rendered visible in
this way, since any object, no matter how small, which emits enough
light to affect the retina is visible, provided the background is
sufficiently dark. Thus stars are visible at night and dust particles are
easily seen in a sunbeam in a darkened room. The larger particles,
viewed in this way, do not appear larger but brighter. The apparent
size of the particles is determined by the diffraction pattern and is
thus dependent only on the optical system used to view them. The
more intense the incident light, the brighter the particles appear. In
the ultra-microscope described, the image of an intense source,
such as a concentrated filament lamp, or an arc, is focused upon the
particles in the microscopic field, but the axis of the illuminating
beam, instead of coinciding with the axis of the microscope, as
ordinarily used, is perpendicular to it. The beam itself, therefore,
never enters the microscope at all, but passes under the objective
into a blackened chamber where it is absorbed. The field of the
microscope is made dark by placing underneath the objective
another “black hole” or blackened chamber with an opening just a
little larger than the field.[34]
The method used for measuring the velocity consisted in causing
the particle to describe a definite stroke many times in succession in
an electric field. This was accomplished by reversing the direction of
the field with a rotating commutator. The convection due to the
source of light is perpendicular to this motion so that a zigzag line is
obtained (see Fig. 88). The amplitude of this oscillation is an
accurate measure of the distance traversed by the particle under the
electric force for a definite small interval of time. The speed of the
rotating commutator and the electric field are both susceptible of
precise measurement, so that the size of a single particle is precisely
determined.

Fig. 87.—Ultramicroscope for Measuring Size of

Smoke Particles.
 Fig. 88.—Measurement of Smoke Particles by Use
of Ultramicroscope.

When a sample of smoke is viewed in the ultra-microscope, it

appears like the starry heavens, except that the stars are dancing
violently about. At first little distinction is made between the particles,
as there seems to be no order in their motion, but soon it becomes
evident that the brighter particles are more sluggish than the dim
ones. This is due to the greater mass of the bright particles, for they
are larger. The particles are all moving slowly away from the source
of light and eventually diffuse to the walls of the cell.
When the electric field is turned on, about one-third of the
particles immediately migrate, about equally in both directions, to the
two electrodes. If the field is reversed, the direction of migration is
reversed and if the commutator is used the particles oscillate
regularly. Sometimes the particles may be seen to combine and
become neutral, in which case oscillation ceases.

Concentration of Smoke
In measuring the concentration of smokes, the following terms
are useful:
Density. The density of a smoke is defined as the reciprocal of
the thickness of the smoke layer in feet necessary to obscure a
given filament. Thus six inches of a smoke of density 2.0 is required
to obscure an electric light filament, whereas one requiring four feet
would have a density of 4. Another way to show the significance of
this definition is to point out that if a definite weight of a stable smoke
is diluted with air after it is formed, the product of the volume by the
density always remains constant. Any marked variation in this rule
may be taken as evidence that the particles of smoke are
undergoing a change, in most cases due to evaporation.
Total Obscuring Power. The volume of smoke produced per unit
weight of material used is the second factor in determining the value
of a smoke. The product of this volume per unit weight by the density
of the smoke is the real measure of effectiveness, and is called the
total obscuring power (T. O. P.) of the smoke. If the volume is
expressed in cubic feet per pound and the density in reciprocal feet,
the unit of T. O. P. is square feet per pound. That is, it expresses the
square feet of a smoke wall, thick enough to completely obscure a
light filament behind it, which could be produced from a pound of the
reacting substances. The total obscuring power of some typical
smokes are as follows:
Phosphorus 4600
NH₄Cl(NH₃ + HCl) 2500
SnCl₄ + NH₃ + H₂O 1590
Berger Mixture 1250
SnCl₄ + NH₃ 900
 SO₂ + NH₃ 375
In all measurements of density, and therefore of T. O. P., the rate
of burning must be considered. If a slow burning material be
compared with a rapid one, the former will not reach its true
maximum density, as a great deal of the smoke may settle out during
the time of burning. Comparisons of T. O. P. are significant only
when made on smoke mixtures of the same type and in about the
same quantities.

Measurement
Two methods of measuring the effectiveness of a smoke cloud
have been devised, one, the smoke box, which measures the
obscuring power directly by observing at what distance a lamp
filament is obscured by intervening smoke, the other, the Tyndall
meter, which measures the intensity of the scattering of the light.
The earliest measurements of smoke intensity are perhaps those
of Ringelmann (Revue Technique, 19, 286), who devised the well
known chart of that name, intended mainly for measuring intensities
of black smoke issuing from a chimney at a distance. The first
measurements for military purposes are probably due to Bertrand,
who made numerous comparative studies with his “salle
opacimetrique.” This was a room 23 × 14 × 3.6 meters, with 7
windows. Two doors, one provided with 3 oculars 2 cm. in diameter,
gave access to the room. On the other door, opposite the first, were
hung several black signs. Six pairs of columns were spaced along
the room at measured distances. When a smoke is produced in the
room, the black paper signs first become invisible, then the door
itself, and finally the columns, pair by pair. They reappear in the
reverse order, and as a measure of relative opacity Bertrand took the
time elapsing between the detonation and the reappearance of the
farther door.
Fig. 89.—Tyndall Meter.
 Fig. 90.—Cottrell Precipitation Tube.

Smoke Box. The smoke box, used by the C. W. S., was

constructed of wood with tight joints, and had a moveable brass rod
running through it to which was attached a small size 25-Watt Mazda
lamp. The density of each smoke introduced in the box is determined
by moving this lamp back and forth until a point is reached when the
pattern of the filament can just be distinguished by the observer
looking in at the glass window, external light being excluded by a
black cloth. The thickness of the smoke layer between the glass
window and the light is recorded as the measure of the smoke
density. For field tests, a larger box, 6 × 8 × 8 feet (288 cubic feet)
was constructed. The observation light was moveable in a line
connecting the mid-points of opposite sides of the box. To insure
uniform distribution of smoke, a fan with 18-inch blade revolved at
any desired speed between 60 and 250 r.p.m. With this, results are
obtained indicating both the original density and its stability.
Tyndall Meter. The Tyndall meter was first devised for studying
smokes and mists. Tolman and Vliet adapted it to Chemical Warfare
purposes, and used it in studying the properties of smokes.
The apparatus (Fig. 89) consists eventually of an electric light
bulb, a condensing lens giving a beam of parallel light which passes
through the diaphragm, and a Macbeth illuminometer for measuring
the strength of the Tyndall beam. In case the material is a liquid
suspension or solution, it is introduced into a cylindrical glass tube,
while smokes and mists are premixed directly through the apparatus.
The long closed tubes are provided, respectively, for absorbing the
beam after it has passed through the disperse system and for giving
a dark background for observing the Tyndall beam. Methods of
standardization are given in the Journal of the American Chemical
Society, 41, 299.
A third method for analyzing smokes consists in the use of an
electrical precipitator. This apparatus consists essentially of a
modified Cottrell Precipitator, with a central wire as cathode
surrounded by a cylindrical foil as anode (Fig. 90). The smoke to be
analyzed is drawn through the apparatus at a known rate, and the
particles of smoke precipitated on the foil by means of a high
voltage, direct current. The determination of concentration is made
by weighing the foil before and after precipitation.

Apparatus for Smoke Production

Smoke Box

The smoke box was developed for the Navy for use when it was
desirable to have the smoke screen generated away from the ship.
(The smoke funnel, described later, was operated on board ship).
The float consists of an iron container (holding the smoke mixture)
surrounded by an iron float to support the apparatus when it is
thrown into the water (Fig. 91). The iron container consists of a
cylinder 22 inches high and 10 inches in diameter. One inch holes
are bored 1½ inches from the top of this cylinder, from which the
smoke is emitted. The iron float is about 2 feet in diameter and 8
inches deep. This box holds approximately 100 pounds of smoke
mixture, and is so constructed that it will float one hour. When
ignited, the mixture burns 9 to 9½ minutes. The smoke produced has
a T. O. P. of about 1900. Fig. 92 shows the Navy Smoke Box in
action.
Fig. 91.—Navy Smoke Box.
 Fig. 92.—Navy Smoke Box in Action.

Smoke Candle

Smoke candles are used for producing a cloud of smoke for

screening purposes in or behind the lines. They are made by
packing about three pounds of the modified Berger Mixture in a
container (Fig. 93) (galvanized can 5¼ inches by 3½ inches) and are
lighted by means of the match head type of ignition. Smoke is given
off at a uniform rate for about 4 minutes, forming a dense, fog-like
cloud which hangs low (Fig. 94). This smoke is absolutely harmless,
and can be breathed without discomfort. The obscuring power is
high and, with a favorable wind, a small number of the candles will
produce a screen sufficiently dense to allow operations to be carried
out unseen by the enemy.
 Fig. 93.—B. M. Smoke Candle.

Smoke Grenade

The smoke grenade is also designed for use in trench and field
warfare, where it is desired to produce a dense smoke screen. It is
made by packing 340 grams of the standard smoke mixture in an
ordinary light metal gas grenade. Around the top of the grenade are
vents closed by a zinc strip. The ignition is caused by the standard
bouchon when the grenade is thrown. The heat of the reaction burns
through the zinc strip and a dense cloud of smoke is evolved for 45
seconds.
 Fig. 94.—Smoke Cloud from B. M. Candle.

Stannic chloride has also been used extensively in hand

grenades, as it gives a very disagreeable cloud of smoke upon
detonation. Due to the high prices and urgent need of tin for other
purposes, silicon tetrachloride was substituted for tin tetrachloride
towards the close of the war. A mixture of silicon tetrachloride and
chloropicrin was also used. This not only gives a very good smoke
cloud, but combines with it the toxic properties of the chloropicrin
cloud.
The method of firing the smoke grenade is the same as that of
any grenade using the same type of bouchon. Usually the grenade is
grasped in the hand for throwing in such a manner that the handle of
the bouchon is under the fingers. The safety clip is pulled out with
the other hand and the grenade is thrown with an overhand motion.
When the grenade leaves the hand, the handle of the bouchon flies
off, allowing the trigger to hit the cap which ignites the fuse.
 The white phosphorus combined hand and rifle grenade became
the standard smoke grenade by the end of the war. Stannic chloride
was used to clear out dugouts, but not as a smoke producer.

Stokes’ Smoke Shell

Fig. 95.—Stokes’ Smoke Shell.

The Stokes’ smoke shell was perfected to furnish a means of

maintaining the best possible smoke screen at long ranges by
means of an easily portable gun. The 3-inch Stokes shell, as
adapted for combustion smokes, weighs about 13 pounds and
contains about 4 pounds of standard smoke mixture. This shell is
designed to produce a continuous screen over a period of 3 to 4
minutes.

Livens Smoke Drum

 The Livens smoke drum was designed for use with the 8-inch
Livens projector, so as to produce a smoke screen of large volume
and long duration at long ranges. The drum, as adapted for
combustion smokes, weighs 17.5 pounds empty and 49 pounds
loaded. The smoke-gas mixture was specially adapted for use in the
Livens drum.

Fig. 96.—Livens Smoke Bomb.

Smoke mixtures in Livens were never used to any considerable

extent in the war and it is questionable if they ever will be. A Livens
can usually only be fired once before resetting, hence Stokes
mortars are used whenever possible.
 Smoke Funnel

The smoke funnel was developed for the production of a white

smoke cloud from the stern of a vessel. The smoke producing
materials are liquid ammonia and silicon tetrachloride, with carbon
dioxide as a compressing medium. This is the most satisfactory
compressing medium, because: (1) The silicon tetrachloride is forced
out at nearly constant pressure. (2) The carbon dioxide is easily
compressed to a liquid and can be handled in this form. Further, it
has a vapor pressure of 800 pounds at 60° F., and a cylinder can be
nearly emptied without loss in efficiency. (3) Carbon dioxide is
sufficiently soluble in silicon tetrachloride to cause the latter to
effervesce and thus materially aid in its evaporation on spraying. (4)
Liquid carbon dioxide, behaving in a manner similar to liquid
ammonia, affords a means for the silicon tetrachloride to “keep pace”
with the ammonia, under changes in temperature, and thus ensures
a more nearly neutral, and therefore the most effective, smoke.

Fig. 97.—Navy Smoke Funnel.

 The smoke funnel proper consists of an open end cylinder, about
2 feet in diameter and 7 feet long, mounted in a horizontal position
on an angle iron frame. At one end is an 18-inch fan securely
fastened to the cross supports. This fan is operated by hand, through
gears giving a ratio of about 30 to 1. The silicon tetrachloride enters
the cylinder through a pipe, which terminates in four spray nozzles,
while the ammonia enters through a single nozzle. The air forced
into the funnel serves to hydrolyze the silicon tetrachloride and mixes
the vapors. The resulting reaction evolves a dense white cloud of
very large volume and high obscuring power. One set of cylinders is
capable of maintaining this cloud for over 30 minutes. Under normal
conditions the discharge is at the rate of 2 pounds of silicon
tetrachloride to 1 pound of ammonia. To stop the smoke, the silicon
tetrachloride is closed first, the ammonia allowed to run about half a
minute, and the fan is shut off last.

Fig. 98.—Navy Smoke Funnel in Operation.

Smoke Knapsack
 The smoke knapsack furnishes a portable apparatus for smoke
production. The gross weight is about 70 pounds; when in operation
it gives a dense white smoke for about 15 minutes. The operation
may be intermittent or continuous and the quantity of smoke is
sufficient to completely hide one platoon of men in skirmish
formation with a 5-mile per hour enfilade wind. The apparatus
consists of two steel tanks about 26 inches in height and 6 inches in
diameter. From the side of each tank, but near the bottom, extends a
short pipe on which is placed a suitable valve. A flexible armored
hose connects the valve to a short length of pipe which is equipped
with spray nozzle. The cylinders are charged with silicon
tetrachloride and ammonia under pressure. The valves may be
operated with the left hand, while the sprayer apparatus is held in the
right. The release buckles are within easy reach of both hands.

Shell

While many special devices have been developed by means of

which the gas troops and infantry are able to set up smoke clouds on
short notice, the smoke shell, fired by the artillery, always played an
important part in this work. In the same way that a large number of
the poison gases were adapted to artillery use, so were most of the
smoke producing substances.
As a filler for smoke shell, phosphorus easily ranks first, and is
approached only by sulfur trioxide in very humid weather. A rough
approximation to the relative values of some of its rivals is given in
the following table:
White phosphorus 100
Sulfur trioxide 60-75
Stannic chloride 40
Titanium chloride 25-35
Arsenic chloride 10
Comparison of the value of different forms of phosphorus for shell
purposes has invariably pointed to the superiority of the white
variety. Mixtures of white and red (2 to 1) have also proved effective.
A complete barrage over a front of 200 yards can be established
in from 40 seconds to 1 minute and maintained by firing a salvo
followed by battery fire of 3 seconds. Four 4.5-inch howitzers could
maintain an effective barrage over a front of 1000 yards. The
influence of sunshine is very marked, as in moist, cool weather one
shell every 15 seconds is sufficient.

Fig. 99.—Smoke Screen for Tanks.

Screening Tanks
Tests have demonstrated (see Fig. 99) that successful smoke
screens for tanks may be produced by spraying oleum into the
exhaust. On a 7-ton tank of the Renault type (40 H. P.) 110 cc. per
minute produced a large volume of smoke, which had excellent
covering power, and which could be made intermittent or continuous
at will.