"Objects can now be printed,
and pictures built. How will this revolution effect business, and the world in
general?"
A 3D model of a complex anaplastology case, created in collaboration with the anaplastologist Jan De Cubber, is seen at the Belgian company Materialise. 3D printing has already changed the game for manufacturing specialized products such as medical devices. REUTERS/Yves Herman
When
Star Trek debuted in the mid-60s, everybody geeked
out about the food synthesizers. Even my mom, a reluctant but compulsory
Trek viewer, recognized the utility of this amazing gadget,
particularly with two ravenous boys around the house. My brother and I
knew, of course, that the real magic food box was the refrigerator.
Years later, I wasn’t the only one craving the replicators of
Star Trek:The Next Generation for my home workshop.
TNG’s
follow-on concept of a ‘universal build-box’ upped the ante way beyond a
hot cup of Earl Grey. The list of things we would have made at home
was endless: for the kids, replacement baseball bats, balls and window
panes, game controllers and handheld electronic devices. I would have
gone in for replacement car parts, repairs for broken appliances and
furniture, and an endless supply of consumables like gasoline, toilet
paper, kitty litter, and inevitably, a couple of cold—strictly
non-syntheholic—beers for afterwards. I note in passing that Starfleet
protocol prohibits civilians from replicating weapons.
With the recent rise of the Maker movement and the advent of
cheaper, easier-to-use 3D-printing technology, the sci-fi concept of a
household device that can manufacture functional objects seems to be
gaining reality. But for those who witnessed the technology’s birth and
growth, it has been a surprisingly long and winding road—one that has
recently reached a significant but mostly unnoticed milestone. For me,
it all began with
Star Trek and the Silver Surfer.
A 3D object called the Quin.MGX is seen at the Belgian company Materialise, a pioneer in the process. REUTERS/Yves Herman
Exactly how replicators—presumably some sort of universal matter
assemblers—might actually work remains unclear. The first time I saw a
version of the concept that offered an inkling of how a fabrication
machine might operate was in 1969. It was in the classic Marvel comic
book,
Silver Surfer #1, when our superhero-to-be, Norrin Radd,
rushes to build a spaceship so he can fly out to confront Galactus, the
super-being that will otherwise consume his homeworld. Radd gets a top
scientist to deploy a "mental constructor", a helmet-mounted beam-like
device that does all the work for him: "within seconds the image of your
ship which in have in my mind...shall take solid form before our eyes!"
The notion of wielding an energy beam to build a working rocket
in one’s own lab was like catnip to somebody who ran a side business at
the elementary school dealing (to trusted friends only) three-stage,
explosive rocket munitions that I’d fabricated in secret at home from
notebook paper, Scotch tape, matchbooks and soda straws (but that’s
another story…).
A decade and half later, when I was first working as a science
and technology writer/editor, it was natural for me to become captivated
by the new manufacturing marvel of 3D-printing technology. Watching
3D Systems’ groundbreaking SLA stereolithography system
was particularly impressive. The moving laser beam built parts right
there in the chamber out of photo-curable liquid polymer: “Holy shit,
it’s the Silver Surfer’s fabricator!”
Thos 3D vase, called The Hidden, was designed by Dan Yeffetlamp. REUTERS/Yves Herman
Adding and subtracting
One of the publications for which I worked covered the
machine-tool industry, which built big, powerful milling machines,
drills and so forth. These devices carve away material from blanks in a
subtractive fashion to leave the desired object, like a sculptor does.
In contrast, the new additive 3D machines built the target objects from
the bottom up in layers, like a bricklayer. Both technologies rely on
the same precision x,y,z machine stages to exactly position the tool or
workpiece within the three-dimensional build volume.
The first step in nearly all those and most of today’s processes
for “turning bits into atoms” involves using CAD/CAM software to create a
3D digital design that is then cut into two-dimensional “slices”—as if
the virtual object were run through a kitchen egg-slicer. The resulting
stack of cross-sections are next fed one-by-one as data into a printer
unit, which directs a laser or dispenser head to follow a tool path that
produces that layer of the physical object. Generally, nearly all
3D-printers first deposit a thin layer of material—metal or polymer
powders, or a plastic goop that’s extruded like toothpaste—and then
solidify the patterns layer-by-layer with laser light or other means.
The procedure, in time, yields a nearly finished object.
Posted to Creative Tools' flickr page, this model of Star Wars' Yoda was made with Fabbster, a 3D printer that can be bought on Amazon.com for $1800 in kit form, or $3000 pre-assembled.
Just a matter of time
The initial users of the technology, mostly product designers and
engineers, could revise, tweak and iterate their unfinished designs
easily and cheaply using “rapid prototyping” models, a process that
greatly enhanced design capabilities and engineering productivity. And
from the beginning, the new fab technology hinted that it might bring
about potentially revolutionary changes in global manufacturing
practices by offering a possible paradigm shift for basic production,
one that just might turn traditional supply trains on their heads. From
our perspective, it seemed a given that at some point pretty much
everybody would have ready access to functional metal and plastic
objects—replacement parts, “one-offs,” you name it—made precisely to
their specifications quickly, affordably, and locally.
Sure, the early fab units could only make rather flimsy epoxy and
polymer models for design and engineering purposes, but we knew that it
was only a matter of time before they would be able to manufacture
practical parts out of many different engineering materials. We were
also certain that system and operating costs would drop as the process
took greater hold in industry and production volumes rose. Soon, tougher
ABS plastic 3D-printed components arrived, and researchers at places
like Sandia Labs, MIT and the
University of Texas at Austin
were hard at work developing build processes that could manufacture
working metal parts like those in your clothes washer, lawnmower or car
by welding or fusing together metal powders.
A colorful geometric shape casts a shadow. Photo: fdecomite
Slow progress
As things developed, however, making functional 3D-printed
objects a reality took much longer to come to fruition than any of us
had expected. Researchers toiled away for decades to perfect these
basic innovations, and much time had to pass for some of the crucial
patents to expire and for computer, laser and materials technologies to
advance sufficiently.
Year after year, the 3D-printer industry booths at manufacturing
trade shows like the big International Machine Tool Show in Chicago
would feature mostly design models, toys and puzzles and all manner of
customized tchotchkes, knick-knacks, and one-off novelty items. Yes,
increasingly sophisticated stuff with ever-tightening dimensional
precision—but for many years real-world commercial products were
embarrassingly scarce. The ones that did eventually emerge were
typically “high value-added” products, whose market niche typically
arose from an acute need for the customization enabled by additive
manufacturing processes. 3D-printed medical implants, using CAT scans as
blueprints, eventually hit the market.
In the last decade, the steady progress in digital technology and
the 3D-printing industry’s continuing R&D efforts has now brought
into being multiple fabrication methods that employ new, better
performing materials to achieve significantly better precision and
build-quality. Today’s higher-end printers can produce truly amazing
objects with highly complex, even ‘impossible,’ geometries as well as
integral—built-in—moving parts.
But it was only the emergence of more affordable ‘home’
3D-printer units, at a couple of thousand dollars a pop, that allowed
the technology to cause more broad public excitement. The burgeoning
Maker movement—enthusiasts inspired by the DIY/home-grown ethic, the
desire to personalize possessions and often a primal desire to
democratize production—has captured the imagination of many
technologists who once again dream of a replicator in every home. That
iconic vision and the ready ability for designs to be downloaded from
the Web, or easily scanned using a real object, has fanned the trend to
the point that I will soon be able to
buy a printer at Staples and
download CAD/CAM designs to a ‘neighborhood’ fab shop
that runs industrial printing systems. For now, access to user
information about the process and demos have become increasingly
available at Maker Faires and similar events nationwide.
Until very recently the output of home systems has been mostly
restricted to often very cool but mostly non-functional or
non-structural aesthetic or decorative objects such as jewelry, highly
customized items like cell phone covers, or relatively low-function
replacement mechanical parts. That is starting to change.
But even though home 3D-printing has received substantial
publicity of late, it is in the industrial sector where the technology
will probably make its most significant near-term impact on the world
both by manufacturing improved commercial products and by stimulating
industry to develop next-generation fab methods and machines that could
one day truly bring 3D-printing home to users in a real way.
This winged skull, uploaded to flickr by Jeremy Keith, demonstrates 3D printing tech's ability to produce extremely complex designs.
3D-printing nears mass production
A couple of months ago when I heard GE Aviation would
mass-produce a 3D-printed jet engine component within the next few
years, I knew the real revolution had begun.
Rows of industrial 3D-printing units in plants will soon be
fabricating turbine engine parts—fuel nozzles—from
cobalt-chromium alloy powders.
Each one of GE’s new LEAP jet engine will contain nineteen of the fuel
nozzles, which are up to 25 percent lighter and five-times more durable
than traditionally manufactured fuel nozzles. In airplanes cutting
weight saves fuel. The LEAP engine has already amassed more than 4,500
orders, so between it and the new GE9X engine, the corporation could end
up making as many as 100,000 additive manufactured components by 2020.
GE Aviation and Santa Fe-based
Sigma Labs
are working together to develop in-process inspection technology that
serves to verify the quality and geometry of the additive components
during the build process. This boosts production speeds by as much as
25%, and enables faster FAA qualification of parts. Recent news reports
indicate that initial assembly of the first pre-production LEAP engines
began just last week.
GE researchers also say that clinical testing has begun of a
low-cost medical ultrasound sensor prototype made by 3D-printing ceramic
powders. The new, cheaper device could potentially bring prenatal
imaging to many more expectant mothers in third-world nations.
A Nestle logo was printed by a 3D printer during a display for the
inauguration of the system technology centre for the design, development
and deployment of their products in Orbe. REUTERS/Denis Balibouse
Make it so
Progress in the industrialization of 3D-printing technology is
probably the best thing that could happen to the Maker movement. It’s
only a matter of time before spin-off technologies start trickling down
into the hands of hobbyist and neighborhood makers at affordable prices.
Greater R&D investment will in time surely yield a steady flow of
more capable and presumably cheaper home printing technology, including
new machines, enhanced design software, more and better fab materials
and deeper processing knowledge. These innovations should help bring
3D-printing and additive manufacturing firmly into the mainstream—and
maybe into your own home.
Real-world replicators have taken a lot longer to materialize than I’d thought; it’s been nearly half a century since
Star Trek first appeared. But the replicator revolution seems to be happening at last.
A handout electron microscope photograph shows a nano-scale model of
London's Tower-Bridge created by a recently-developed 3D printing
technique for nanostructures. Researchers from the Vienna University
created their grain of sand-size structures in just four minutes, a
fraction of the time that other tiny items were previously printed.
Photo: Vienna University of Technology