The portrayal of Scotland as a country of wild kilt-wearing sword-wielding savagery is nothing but English propaganda, sadly perpetuated to this day. In reality, Scotland is – and has been for centuries – a place of highly educated, incredibly literate, poets, artists, philosophers, and scientists. Its institutions of higher learning are as storied as those anywhere, and it is here at the University of Glasgow that two true scientific greats (among many; these are far from the only two) plied their crafts in the 18th and 19th centuries, changing the face of science, and of the world.

The University of Glasgow was founded in 1451, and the Hunterian Museum on its campus is the oldest public museum in all of Scotland, being first opened in 1807. Housed in several buildings spread across campus, it is a vast collection of art, history, science, literature, architecture (click here to read about Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Glasgow architecture), and more. At its “main” branch, on the upper floors of a soaring building in the heart of the university, one can find a stunning hall. And on the second floor of the hall, one can find an exhibition to the evolution of science as made from right here in Glasgow. Specifically, one will learn of Lord Kelvin.

William Thomson was born in Belfast in 1824, but as a young child, he moved to Glasgow when his father took a post as a professor of math at the University of Glasgow. At the ripe old age of 22, Thomson became a professor here as well, of natural philosophy, which would become the field of physics. For the next 53 years, he would teach, experiment, and invent (and patent and sell) a vast amount of scientific equipment right here.

You have probably never heard of William Thomson. Indeed, I hadn’t. You have, however, probably heard the name Kelvin, noted for its temperature scale with 0 degrees Kelvin being absolute zero, the point at which zero entropy occurs. In 1892, Thomson was made the first Baron Kelvin, named for the River Kelvin which flows adjacent to the University of Glasgow, one of very few nobles made from a career in science. (Funnily enough, he was also the last Baron Kelvin, as he never had a child to pass the title on to.)

This being the 200th year of Kelvin’s birth, the University of Glasgow is going all-out celebrating his contributions to science. And they are many.

While best known for his temperature scale and related work in thermodynamics, Thomson was involved in the transatlantic telegraph cable, for which work he was knighted by Queen Victoria in 1866. He perfected the adjustable compass for use on boats. He advanced the field of measuring electricity so much that he headed an international commission to design the Niagara Falls power station. He even had his own experiments in the liquidity of pitch. It is a vast and diverse set of fields.

Within thermodynamics itself, Kelvin collaborated with James Joule, together coming up with the Joule-Thomson effect, basically describing temperature change due to pressure. And of course, he calculated absolute zero to be -273.15 degrees Celsius (-459.67 Fahrenheit), for which that scale of absolute temperature bears his name.

Here at the Hunterian, items related to Kelvin on display cover much of his work. I am especially intrigued by the machine used to calculate the electricity output of hydroelectric projects, the basis of which is still used today.

But of course, what is on display barely scratches the surface of Kelvin’s work at the University of Glasgow. Nicky Reeves, a scientific historian for the Hunterian, is gracious enough to meet me to visit a curated room of Kelvin artifacts in one of the museum’s archives, an experience possible for anyone with some advanced notice. (Nicky tells me that with enough notice, he and his team will create personalized experiences for scholars, writers, and just fans of various aspects of the collection, something I doubt many institutions offer. It is a truly one-of-a-kind hands-on hour, and I am so incredibly grateful to have been able to do it.)

Here, I am greeted by a table full of Kelvin-related items, from inventions to experiments to glass from a lampshade the man broke once (which goes to the cult-like popularity of Kelvin and his genius here since there is nothing more to that story). While I cannot touch the pitch experiment, although frankly I want to know what it feels like, I am encouraged to physically handle other artifacts, like the aforementioned nautical compass, which is heavy as all get-up.

It should be noted that in addition to being a scientific genius, Kelvin was an incredible businessman, patenting dozens of instruments and selling them. So many of the items here bear his name not as a “Kelvin once used this” or “Kelvin built this,” but as a “Kelvin Inc made and sold these.”

William Thomson, Baron Kelvin, is not, however, the only Glaswegian scientist to have a unit of measurement bear his name. Roughly a century prior to Kelvin’s arrival at the University of Glasgow, another man was born who would change the scientific world from this spot.

James Watt was born in Scotland in 1736, arriving at the University of Glasgow in 1756 to maintain mathematical and astronomical instruments for the university. He set up a small workshop here on campus, from which he first restored and then improved upon various machinery.

Watt is thought of as the inventor of the steam engine, something that is not quite true. In 1763, he was asked to repair an existing steam engine being used in experiments at the university, a model invented by Thomas Newcomen. Watt’s work on that Newcomen engine, which is itself actually on display at the Hunterian, led to his realization that most of the energy produced was being lost in heating (and therefore having to cool) the cylinder, and that having a separate condenser would allow for a huge increase in efficiency.

It is amazing what one observation, and subsequent improvement, can do, and in 1765 James Watt had a working prototype. The Watt steam engine would jumpstart the Industrial Revolution by the end of the century, forever changing the world.

It is said that Lord Kelvin was inspired by James Watt, basically being the top fan of his at the University of Glasgow, despite their never having overlapped, since Watt passed away in 1819, five years before Kelvin was born. But Kelvin built much of his research on thermodynamics from what his predecessor accomplished in the same place, so it is sort of fun that when the watt was standardized as a unit of power in 1882 (and accepted internationally in 1908), it was able to be measured in Kelvin. Watts refer to the energy consumption of a light, while Kelvin will tell you the light color via its temperature. Hence, a 100 watt lightbulb is at 5000 Kelvin. The two men are forever linked.

It isn’t what most people visiting Glasgow would first set their itineraries around, but a day spent following in the footsteps of James Watt and Lord Kelvin both covers some of the most wonderful scientific history in the world and smashes so many of the stereotypes of what it means to be Scottish. In this city, two of the greatest minds in physics plied their trades, changing the face of science.

Thank you so much to the Hunterian team for my experience being able to actually interact with the life and work of Lord Kelvin. It will forever be a highlight for me.

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