Stink bombs have long been the weapon of choice of
teenage boys everywhere. Now the U.S. Department of Defense is
looking to harness the power of foul odor to beef up its
arsenal.
It's easy to see why an overpowering stench
might be an appealing weapon: Despite the moans and groans (and,
in some cases, screams) of those unfortunate enough to catch a
whiff, no physiological harm results from malodorants, as the
foul-smelling concoctions are called. Unlike many other
nonlethal weapons—tear gas and pepper spray, for example,
which can cause bronchial irritation—malodorants are
essentially harmless.
Experimental psychologist Pam
Dalton has been working on the development of a globally
unpleasant odor since 1998 in what she calls a "fortuitous
collaboration" with the Department of Defense. Dalton and
her colleagues at the Monell Chemical Senses Center in
Philadelphia have chemically mimicked some of the foulest
naturally occurring odors—body odor, burnt hair, vomit,
fecal matter and decaying carcasses among others—and
presented them to volunteers to rank. Volunteers were recruited
from a range of cultures and ethnicities in an effort to
determine the most universally despised odor.
Dalton
says her research focused on a set of basic theoretical
questions: To what extent is odor perception a learned behavior?
Is there some commonality across cultures? Evidence for ethnic
differences in smell perception is not new, she says, but what's
interesting are other factors affecting how smells are
perceived. Her research suggests that odor perception is
surprisingly context-dependent. Butyric acid, a common
ingredient in vomit and foot sweat, for example, evokes an
unpleasant reaction from volunteers—unless they "have
been clued to think about food," Dalton says. Butyric acid
is also present in certain strong cheeses, and when volunteers
developed expectations of food, they typically found the odor
more bearable, she says.
As for the least tolerable
smells, the team's research suggests that the smell of
"organic decomposition"—rotting flesh and
organic decay—is the most universally reviled.
The research has recently attracted some controversy. In
February, the Sunshine Project, an international organization
devoted to building a global consensus against biological
weapons, published a news release asserting that U.S. defense
officials are developing nonlethal weapons—and
malodorants, in particular—targeted at specific
ethnicities. The release noted a "disturbing preoccupation
with ethnicity" in documents related to projects sponsored
by U.S. defense programs.
Dalton says this claim
"couldn't be further from the truth."
Her
government-funded project isn't the first time malodorants have
been considered as potential weapons. In World War II, the
original formulation of one of Dalton's concoctions—a
sulfurous, putrid-smelling compound called "Who
Me?"—was shipped to Paris, intended for dispersal by
the French Resistance among German soldiers in order to
humiliate them. It remains unclear whether a "Who Me?"
attack was ever successfully staged; "Who Me?" is a
difficult blend of chemicals to keep contained, Dalton says. It
has a high concentration of sulfur, a light molecule, and often
escapes, much to the dismay of those trying to contain it.
Since the research first received notice last summer, Dalton
has received calls of all kinds: people wondering how they can
use malodorants for their own designs. For example, can the
smell be used to keep skiers on trails and off protected land?
Can it be bottled and used for self-protection? In most cases,
malodorants could effectively be used in many creative ways,
Dalton says. The chemical formulations of the most unpleasant
smells her team could produce have been passed along to defense
officials for further evaluation.
Technological
developments often build one from another, and so
countermeasures are most likely in the works. In a December 2001
Science article, Steven Munger, a chemosensory
scientist at the University of Maryland, and his colleagues
identify CNGA4, a protein subunit they believe to be important
in regulating the speed of adaptation to an odorant signal. In
animals lacking functional CNGA4 subunits, the speed of
adaptation slows nearly 70-fold, says Munger. Dubbed the brain's
"nose plug," CNGA4 might be able to provide protection
from foul-smelling weapons.
Perhaps by hyperactivating
the biochemical pathway, desensitization could become almost
immediate—although, Munger warns, there would be no
selectivity in the desensitization process. An increase in CNGA4
would generally "ratchet everything down," affecting
sense of smell as a whole, he says.—Rebecca Sloan Slotnick