Category Archives: Structure

Stacks make no sense

At the atomic level, montmorillonite is built up of so-called TOT-layers: covalently bonded sheets of aluminum (“O”) and silica (“T”) oxide (including the right amount of impurities/defects). In my mind, such TOT-layers make up the fundamental particles of a bentonite sample. Reasonably, since montmorillonite TOT-layers vary extensively in size, and since a single cubic centimeter of bentonite contains about ten million billions (\(10^{16}\)), they are generally configured in some crazily complicated manner.

Stack descriptions in the literature

But the idea that the single TOT-layer is the fundamental building block of bentonite is not shared with many of today’s bentonite researchers. Instead, you find descriptions like e.g. this one, from Bacle et al. (2016)

Clay mineral particles consist of stacks of parallel negatively-charged layers separated by interlayer nanopores. Consequently, compacted smectite contains two major classes of pores: interlayer nanopores (located inside the particles) and larger mesopores (located between the particles).

or this one, from Churakov et al. (2014)

In compacted rocks, montmorillonite (Mt) forms aggregates (particles) with 5–20 TOT layers (Segad et al., 2010). A typical radial size of these particles is of the order of 0.01 to 1 \(\mathrm{\mu m}\). The pore space between Mt particles is referred to as interparticle porosity. Depending on the degree of compaction, the interparticle porosity contributes 10 to 30% of the total water accessible pore space in Mt (Holmboe et al., 2012; Kozaki et al., 2001).

“Schematic particle arrangement in highly compacted Na-bentonite” from Navarro et al. (2017)

Here it is clear that they differ between “aggregates” (which I’m not sure is the same thing as “particles”), “stacks”, and individual TOT-layers (which I assume are represented by the line-shaped objects). In the following, however, we will use the term “stack” to refer to any kind of suggested fundamental structure built up from individual TOT-layers.

The one-sentence version of this blog post is:

Stacks make no sense as fundamental building blocks in models of water saturated, compacted bentonite.

The easiest argument against stacks is, in my mind, to simply work out the geometrical consequences. But before doing that we will examine some of the references given to support statements about stacks in compacted systems. Often, no references are given at all, but when they are, they usually turn out to be largely irrelevant for the system under study, or even to support an opposite view.

Inadequate referencing

As an example (of many) of inadequate referencing, we use the statement above from Churakov et al. (2014) as a starting point. I think this is a “good” statement, in the sense that it makes rather precise claims about how compacted bentonite is supposed to be structured, and provides references for some key statements, which makes it easier to criticize.

Churakov et al. (2014) reference Segad et al. (2010) for the statement that montmorillonite forms “particles” with 5 – 20 TOT-layers. In turn, Segad et al. (2010) write:

Clay is normally not a homogeneous lamellar material. It might be better described as a disordered structure of stacks of platelets, sometimes called tactoids — a tactoid typically consists of 5-20 platelets.19-21

Here the terminology is quite different from the previous quotations: TOT-layers are called “platelets”, and “particles” are called “tactoids”. Still, they use the phrase “stacks of platelets”, so I think we can continue with using “stack” as a sort of common term for what is being discussed.1 We may also note that here is used the word “clay”, rather than “montmorillonite” (as does Bacle et al. (2016)), but it is clear from the context of the article that it really is montmorillonite/bentonite that is discussed.

Anyhow, Segad et al. (2010) do not give much direct information on the claim we investigate, but provide three new references. Two2 of these — Banin (1967) and Shalkevich et al. (2007) — are actually studies on montmorillonite suspensions, i.e. as far away as you can get from compacted bentonite in terms of density; the solid mass fraction in these studies is in the range 1 – 4%.

The average distance between individual TOT-layers in this density limit is comparable with, or even larger than, their typical lateral extension (~100 nm). Therefore, much of the behavior of low density montmorillonite depends critically on details of the interaction between layer edges and various other components, and systems in this density limit behave very differently depending on e.g. ionic strength, cation population, preparation protocol, temperature, time, etc. This complex behavior is also connected with the fact that pure Ca-montmorillonite does not form a sol, while the presence of as little as 10 – 20% sodium makes the system sol forming. The behaviors and structures of montmorillonite suspensions, however, say very little about how the TOT-layers are organized in compacted bentonite.

We have thus propagated from a statement in Churakov et al. (2014), and a similar one in Segad et al. (2010), that montmorillonite in general, in “compacted rocks” forms aggregates of 5 – 20 TOT-layers, to studies which essentially concern different types of materials. Moreover, the actual value of “5 – 20 TOT layers” comes from Banin (1967), who writes

Evidence has accumulated showing that when montmorillonite is adsorbed with Ca, stable tactoids, containing 5 to 20 parallel plates, are formed (1). When the mineral is adsorbed with Na, the tactoids are not stable, and the single plates are separated from each other.

This source consequently claims that the single TOT-layers are the fundamental units, i.e. it provides an argument against any stack concept! (It basically states that pure Ca-montmorillonite does not form a sol.) In the same manner, even though Segad et al. (2010) make the above quoted statement in the beginning of the paper, they only conclude that “tactoids” are formed in pure Ca-montmorillonite.

The swelling and sedimentation behavior of Ca-montmorillonite is a very interesting question, that we do not have all the answers to yet. Still, it is basically irrelevant for making statements about the structure in compacted — sodium dominated3 — bentonite.

Churakov et al. (2014) also give two references for the statement that the “interparticle porosity” in montmorillonite is 10 – 30% of the total porosity: Holmboe et al. (2012) and Kozaki et al. (2001). This is a bizarre way of referencing, as these two studies draw incompatible conclusions, and since Holmboe et al. (2012) — which is the more adequately performed study — state that this type of porosity may be absent:

At dry density \(>1.4 \;\mathrm{g/cm^3}\) , the average interparticle porosity for the [natural Na-dominated bentonite and purified Na-montmorillonite] samples used in this study was found to be \(1.5\pm1.5\%\), i.e. \(\le 3\%\) and significantly lower than previously reported in the literature.

Holmboe et al. (2012) address directly the discrepancy with earlier studies, and suggest that these were not properly analyzed

The apparent discrepancy between the basal spacings reported by Kozaki et al. (1998, 2001) using Kunipia-F washed Na-montmorillonite, and by Muurinen et al. (2004), using a Na-montmorillonite originating from Wyoming Bentonite MX-80, and the corresponding average basal spacings of the [Na-montmorillonite originating from Wyoming bentonite MX-80] samples reported in this study may partly be due to water contents and partly to the fact that only apparent \(\mathrm{d_{001}}\) values using Bragg’s law, without any profile fitting, were reported in their studies.

If Kozaki et al. (2001) should be used to support a claim about “interparticle porosity”, it consequently has to be done in opposition to — not in conjunction with — Holmboe et al. (2012). It would then also be appropriate for authors to provide arguments for why they discard the conclusions of Holmboe et al. (2012).4

Stacks in compacted bentonite make no geometrical sense

The literature is full of fancy figures of bentonite structure involving stacks. A typical example is found in Wu et al. (2018), and looks similar to this:

stacks illustration from Wu et al. (2018)

This illustration is part of a figure with the caption “Schematic representation of the different porosities in bentonite and the potential diffusion paths.”5 The regular rectangles in this picture illustrate stacks that each seems to contain five TOT-layers (I assume this throughout). Conveniently, these groups of five layers have the same length within each stack, while the length varies somewhat between stacks. This is a quite common feature in figures like this, but it is also common that all stacks are given the same length.

Another feature this illustration has in common with others is that the particles are ordered: we are always shown edges of the TOT-layers. I guess this is partly because a picture of a bunch of stacks seen from “the top” would be less interesting, but it also emphasizes the problem of representing the third dimension: figures like these are in practice figures of straight lines oriented in 2D, and the viewer is implicitly required to imagine a 3D-version of this two-dimensional representation.

A “realistic” stack picture

But, even as a 2D-representation, these figures are not representative of what an actual configuration of stacks of TOT-layers looks like. Individual TOT-layers have a distinct thickness of about 1 nm, but varies widely in the other two dimensions. Ploehn and Liu (2006) analyzed the size distribution of Na-montmorillonite (“Cloisite Na+”) using atomic force microscopy, and found an average aspect ratio of 180 (square-root of basal area divided by thickness). A representative single “TOT-line” drawn to scale is consequently quite different from what is illustrated in in most stack-pictures, and look like this (click on the figure to see it in full size)

Representative TOT-layer drawn to scale with water films

In this figure, we have added “water layers” on each side of the TOT-layer (light red), with the water-to-solid volume ratio of 16. Neatly stacking five such units shows that the rectangles in the Wu et al. (2018)-figure should be transformed like this

actual veiw of stacks in Wu et al. (2018)

But this is still not representative of what an assemblage of five randomly picked TOT-layers would look like, because the size distribution has a substantial variance. According to Ploehn and Liu (2006), the aspect ratio follows approximately a log-normal distribution. If we draw five values from this distribution for the length of five “TOT-lines”, and form assemblages, we end up with structures that look like this:7

Five realistic stacks

These are the kind of units that should fill the bentonite illustrations. They are quite irregularly shaped and are certainly not identical (this would be even more pronounced when considering the third dimension, and if the stacks contain more layers).

It is easy to see that it is impossible to construct a dense structure with these building blocks, if they are allowed a random orientation. The resulting structure rather looks something like this

percolation gel with realistic stacks

Such a structure evidently has very low density, and are reminiscent of the gel structures suggested in e.g. Shalkevich et al. (2007) (see fig. 7 in that paper). This makes some sense, since the idea of stacks of TOT-layers (“tactoids”) originated from studies of low density structures, as discussed above.

Note that the structure in pictures like that in Wu et al. (2018) has a substantial density only because it is constructed with stacks with an unrealistic shape. But even in these types of pictures is the density not very high: with some rudimentary image analysis we conclude that the density in the above picture is only around 800 kg/m3. Also the figure from Navarro et al. (2017) above gives a density below 1000 kg/m3, although there it is explicitly stated that it is a representation of “highly compacted bentonite”.

The only manner in which the “realistic” building blocks can be made to form a dense structure is to keep them in the same orientation. The resulting structures then look e.g. like this

Dense structrue of color coded realistic stacks

where we have color coded each stack, to remind ourselves that these units are supposed to be fundamental.

Just looking at this structure of a “stack of stacks” should make it clear how flawed the idea is of stacks as fundamental structural units in compacted bentonite (note also how unrepresentative the stack-pictures found in the literature are). One of many questions that immediately arises is e.g. why on earth the tiny gaps between stacks (indicated by arrows) should remain. This brings us to the next argument against stacks as fundamental units for compacted water saturated bentonite:

What is supposed to keep stacks together?

The pressure configuration in the structure suggested by Navarro et al. (2017)

Assuming that this system is in equilibrium with an external water reservoir at zero pressure (i.e. atmospheric absolute pressure), the pressure in the compartment labeled “intra-aggregate space” is also close to zero. On the other hand, in the “stacks” located just a few nm away, the pressure is certainly above 10 MPa in many places! A structure like this is obviously not in mechanical equilibrium! (To use the term “obvious” here feels like such an understatement.)

Implications

To sum up what we have discussed so far, the following picture emerges. The bentonite literature is packed with descriptions of compacted water saturated bentonite as built up of stacks as fundamental units. These descriptions are so commonplace that they often are not supported by references. But when they are, it seems that the entire notion is based on misconceptions. In particular, structures identified in low density systems (suspensions, gels) have been carried over, without reflection, to descriptions of compacted bentonite. Moreover, all figures illustrating the stack concept are based on inadequate representations of what an arbitrary assemblage of TOT-layers arranged in this way actually would look like. With a “realistic” representation it quickly becomes obvious that it makes little sense to base a fundamental unit in compacted systems on the stack concept.

My impression is that this flawed stack concept underlies the entire contemporary mainstream view of compacted bentonite, as e.g. expressed by Wu et al. (2018):

A widely accepted view is that the total porosity of bentonite consists of \(\epsilon_ {ip}\) and \(\epsilon_ {il}\) (Tachi and Yotsuji, 2014; Tournassat and Appelo, 2011; Van Loon et al., 2007). \(\epsilon_ {ip}\) is a porosity related to the space between the bentonite particles and/or between the other grains of minerals present in bentonite. It can further be subdivided into \(\epsilon_ {ddl}\) and \(\epsilon_ {free}\). The diffuse double layer, which forms in the transition zone from the mineral surface to the free water space, contains water, cations and a minor amount of anions. The charge at the negative outer surface of the montmorillonite is neutralized by an excess of cations. The free water space contains a charge-balanced aqueous solution of cations and anions. \(\epsilon_ {il}\) represents the space between TOT-layers in montmorillonite particles exhibiting negatively charged surfaces. Due to anion exclusion effect, anions are excluded from the interlayer space, but water and cations are present.

This view can be summarized as:

  • The fundamental building blocks are stacks of TOT-layers (“particles”, “aggregates”, “tactoids”, “grains”…)
  • Electric double layers are present only on external surfaces of the stacks.
  • Far away from external surfaces — in the “inter-particle” or “inter-aggregate” pores — the diffuse layers merge with a bulk water solution
  • Interlayer pores are defined as being internal to the stacks, and are postulated to be fundamentally different from the external diffuse layers; they play by a different set of rules.

I don’t understand how authors can get away with promoting this conceptual view without supplying reasonable arguments for all of its assumptions8 — and with such a complex structure, there are a lot of assumptions.

As already discussed, the geometrical implications of the suggested structure do not hold up to scrutiny. Likewise, there are many arguments against the presence of substantial amounts of bulk water in compacted bentonite, including the pressure consideration above. But let’s also take a look at what is stated about “interlayers” and how these are distinguished from electric double layers (I will use quotation marks in the following, and write “interlayers” when specifically referring to pores defined as internal to stacks).

“Interlayers”

“Interlayers” are often postulated to be completely devoid of anions. We discussed this assumption in more depth in a previous blog post, where we discovered that the only references supplied when making this postulate are based on the Poisson-Boltzmann equation. But this is inadequate, since the Poisson-Boltzmann equation does describe diffuse layers, and predicts anions everywhere.

By requiring anion-free “interlayers”, authors actually claim that the physico-chemistry of “interlayers” is somehow qualitatively different from that of “external surfaces”, although these compartments have the exact same constitution (charged TOT-layer surface + ions + water). But an explanation for why this should be the case is never provided, nor is any argument given for why diffuse layer concepts are not supposed to apply to “interlayers”.9 This issue becomes even more absurd given the strong empirical evidence for that anions actually do reside in interlayers.

The treatment of anions is not the only ad hoc description of “interlayers”. It also seems close to mandatory to describe them as having a maximum extension, and as having an extension independently parameterized by sample density. E.g. the influential models for Na-bentonite of Bourg et al. (2006) and Tournassat and Appelo (2011) both rely on the idea that “interlayers” swell out to a certain volume that is smaller than the total pore volume, but that still depends on density.

In e.g. Bourg et al. (2006), the fraction of “interlayer” pores remains essentially constant at ~78%, as density decreases from 1.57 g/cm3 to 1.27 g/cm3, while the “interlayers” transform from having 2 monolayers of water (2WL) to having 3 monolayers (3WL). This is a very strange behavior: “interlayers” are acknowledged as having a swelling potential (2WL expands to 3WL), but do, for some reason, not affect 22% of the pore volume! Although such a behavior strongly deviates from what we expect if “interlayers” are treated with conventional diffuse layer concepts, no mechanism is provided.

In contrast, it should be noted that the established explanation for “tactoid” formation in pure Ca-montmorillonite involves no ad hoc assumptions of this sort, but rests on treating all ions as part of diffuse layers.

Another type of macabre consequence of defining “interlayer” pores as internal to stacks is that a completely homogeneous system is described has having no interlayer pores (because it has no stacks). E.g. Tournassat and Appelo (2011) write (\(n_c\) is the number of TOT-layers in a stack)

[…] the number of stacks in the \(c\)-direction has considerable influence on the interlayer porosity, with interlayer porosity increasing with \(n_c\) and reaching the maximum when \(n_c \approx 25\). The interlayer porosity halves with \(n_c\) when \(n_c\) is smaller than 3, and becomes zero for \(n_c = 1\).10

It is not acceptable that using the term interlayer should require accepting stacks as fundamental units. But the usage of the term as being internal to stacks is so widespread in the contemporary bentonite literature, that I fear it is difficult to even communicate this issue. Nevertheless, I am certain that e.g. Norrish (1954) does not depend on the existence of stacks when using the term like this:

Fig. 7 shows the relationship between interlayer spacing and water content for Na-montmorillonite. There is good agreement between the experimental points and the theoretical line, showing that interlayer swelling accounts for all, or almost all, of physical swelling.

The stack view obstructs real discovery

A severe consequence of the conceptual view just discussed is that “stacking number” — the (average) number of TOT-layers that stacks are supposed to contain — has been established as fitting parameter in models that are clearly over-parameterized. An example of this is Tournassat and Appelo (2011), who write11

Our predictive model excludes anions from the interlayer space and relates the interlayer porosity to the ionic strength and the montmorillonite bulk dry density. This presentation offers a good fit for measured anion accessible porosities in bentonites over a wide range of conditions and is also in agreement with microscopic observations.

But since anions do reside in interlayers,12 it would be better if the model didn’t fit: an over-parameterized or conceptually flawed model that fits data provides very little useful information.

A similar more recent example is Wu et al. (2018). In this work, a model based on the stack concept is successfully fitted both to data on \(\mathrm{ReO_4^-}\) diffusion in “GMZ” bentonite and to data on \(\mathrm{Cl^-}\) diffusion in “KWK” bentonite, by varying “stacking number” (among other parameters). Again, as the model assumes anion-free “interlayer” pores, a better outcome would be if it was not able to fit the data. Moreover, this paper focuses mainly on the ability of the model, while not at all emphasizing the fact that about ten (!) times more \(\mathrm{ReO_4^-}\) was measured in “GMZ” as compared with \(\mathrm{Cl^-}\) in “KWK”, at similar conditions in certain cases. The latter observation is quite puzzling and is, in my opinion, certainly worth deeper investigation (and I am fully convinced that it is not explained by differences in “stacking number”).

Footnotes

[1] The terminology in the bentonite literature is really all over the place. You may e.g. also find the term “tactoid” used as Navarro et al. (2017) use “aggregate”, or the term “platelet” used for a stack of TOT-layers…

[2] The third reference is an entire book on clays.

[3] Note that “sodium dominated” in this context means ~20% or more.

[4] It may be noticed that Kozaki et al. (2001) see no X-ray diffraction peaks for low density samples:

The basal spacing of water-saturated montmorillonite was determined by the XRD method. […] It was found that a basal spacing of 1.88 nm, corresponding to the three-water layer hydrate state […] was not observed before the dry density reached 1.0 Mg/m3.

My interpretation of this observation is that the diffraction peak has shifted to even lower reflection angles (in agreement with the observations of Holmboe et al. (2012)), not registered by the equipment. The alternative interpretation must otherwise be that “stacks” suddenly cease to exist below 1.0 g/cm3. (Yet, Kozaki et al. (2001) continues to use a certain d-value in their analysis, also for densities below 1.0 g/cm3.)

[5] I have discussed “diffusion paths” in an earlier blog post. This illustration certainly fits that discussion.

[6] A water-to-solid volume ratio of 1 corresponds basically to interlayers of three monolayers of water (3WL).

[7] To construct these units, I made the additional choice of placing each layer randomly in the horizontal direction, with the constraint that all layers should be confined within the range of the longest one in each unit.

[8] By “get away with” I mean “pass peer-review”, and by “don’t understand” I mean “understand”.

[9] This is reminiscent of how certain authors imply that the interlayer is non-diffusive under so-called crystalline swelling.

[10] A mathematical remark: if the interlayer porosity “halves with \(n_c\)” (what does that mean?) when \(n_c = 2\) (“smaller than 3”), it is impossible to simultaneously have zero interlayer porosity for \(n_c = 1\) (unless the interlayer porosity is zero for any \(n_c\)).

[11] I guess the word “presentation” here really should be “representation”?

[12] Note that one of the authors of this paper also claims in a later paper that anions do populate 3-waterlayer interlayers, in accordance with the Poisson-Boltzmann equation:

The agreement between PB calculations and MD simulation predictions was somewhat worse in the case of the \(\mathrm{Cl^-}\) concentration profiles than in the case of the \(\mathrm{Na^+}\) profiles (Figure 3), perhaps reflecting the poorer statistics for interlayer Cl concentrations […] Nevertheless, reasonable quantitative agreement was found (Table 2).

The danger of log-log plots — measuring and modeling “apparent” diffusivity

In a previous blog post, we discussed how the diffusivity of simple cations1 has a small, or even negligible, dependence on background concentration (or, equivalently, on \(K_d\)), and how this observation motivates modeling compacted bentonite as a homogeneous system, containing only interlayer pores.

Despite the indisputable fact that “\(D_a\)”2 for simple ions does not depend much on \(K_d\), the results have seldom been modeled using a homogeneous bentonite model. Instead there are numerous attempts in the bentonite literature to both measure and model a variation of “\(D_a\)” with \(K_d\), usually with a conclusion (or implication) that “\(D_a\)” depends significantly on \(K_d\). In this post we re-examine some of these studies.

The claimed \(K_d\)-dependency is often “supported” by the so-called surface diffusion model. I have previously shown that this model is incorrect.3 Here we don’t concern ourselves with the inconsistencies, but just accept the resulting expression as the model to which authors claim to fit data. This model expression is

\begin{equation} D_a = \frac{D_p + \frac{\rho K_d}{\phi} D_s}{1+\frac{\rho K_d}{\phi}} \tag{1} \end{equation}

where \(D_p\) and \(D_s\) are individual domain diffusivities for bulk water and surface regions, respectively, \(\rho\) is dry density, \(\phi\) porosity, and \(K_d\), of course, is assumed to quantify the distribution of ions between bulk water and surfaces as \(s = K_d\cdot c^\mathrm{bulk}\), where \(s\) is the amount of ions on the surface (per unit dry mass), and \(c^\mathrm{bulk}\) is the corresponding bulk water concentration.

Muurinen et al. (1985)

Muurinen et al. (1985) measured diffusivity in high density bentonite samples at various background concentrations, using a type of closed-cell set-up. They also measured corresponding values of \(K_d\) in batch “sorption” tests. The results for cesium, in samples with density in the range \(1870 \;\mathrm{kg/m^3}\) — \(2030 \;\mathrm{kg/m^3}\), are presented in the article in a figure similar to this:

cesium diffusivivty vs. Kd, model and measurements. From Muurinen et al. (1985)

The markers show experimental data, and the solid curve shows the model (eq. 1) with \(D_p = 1.2 \cdot 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\)4 and \(D_s = 4.3\cdot 10^{-13}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\).

The published plot may give the impression of a systematic variation of \(D_a\) for cesium, and that this variation is captured by the model. But the data is plotted with a logarithmic y-axis, which certainly is not motivated. Let’s see how the plot looks with a linear y-axis (we keep the logarithmic x-axis, to clearly see the model variation).

Now the impression is quite different: this way of plotting reveals that the experimental data only cover a part where the model does not vary significantly. With the adopted range on the x-axis (as used in the article) we actually don’t see the full variation of the model curve. Extending the x-axis gives the full picture:

With the full model variation exposed, it is evident that the model fits the data only in a most superficial way. The model “fits” only because it has insignificant \(K_d\)-dependency in the covered range, in similarity with the measurements.

The defining feature of the model is that the diffusivity is supposed to transition from one specific value at high \(K_d\), to a significantly different value at low \(K_d\). As no such transition is indicated in the data, the above “fit” does not validate the model.

Muurinen et al. (1985) also measured diffusion of strontium in two samples of density \(1740 \;\mathrm{kg/m^3}\). The figures below show the data and corresponding model curve.

The left diagram is similar to how the data is presented in the article, while the right diagram utilizes a linear y-axis and shows the full model variation. The line shows the surface diffusion model with parameters \(D_p = 1.2 \cdot 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\) and \(D_s = 8.8 \cdot 10^{-12}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\). In this case it is clear even from the published plot that the experimental data shows no significant variation.

The only reasonable conclusion to make from the above data is that cesium and strontium diffusivity does not significantly depend on \(K_d\) (which implies a homogeneous system). This is actually also done in the article:

The apparent diffusivities of strontium and cesium do not change much when the salt concentration used for the saturation of the samples is changed and the sorption factors change. The surface diffusion model agrees fairly well with the observed diffusion-sorption behaviour.

I agree with the first sentence but not with the second. In my mind, the two sentences contradict each other. From the above plots, however, it is trivial to see that the surface diffusion model does not agree (in any reasonable sense) with observations.

Eriksen et al. (1999)

Although Muurinen et al. (1985) concluded insignificant \(K_d\)-dependency on the diffusion coefficients for strontium and cesium, researchers have continued throughout the years to fit the surface diffusion model to experimental data on these and other ions.

Eriksen et al. (1999) present old and new diffusion data for strontium and cesium (and sodium), fitted and plotted in the same way as in Muurinen et al. (1985). Here are the evaluated diffusivities for cesium plotted against evaluated \(K_d\), as presented in the article, and re-plotted in different ways with a linear y-scale:

The curve shows the surface diffusion model (eq. 1), with parameters \(D_p = 8 \cdot 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\) and \(D_s = 6 \cdot 10^{-13}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\). The points labeled “Eriksen 99” are original data obtained from through-diffusion tests on “MX-80” bentonite at dry density 1800 \(\mathrm{kg/m^3}\).5 The source for the data points labeled “Muurinen 94” is the PhD thesis of A. Muurinen.6

The upper left plot shows the data as presented in the article; again, a logarithmic y-axis is used. In this case, a zoomed-in view with a linear y-axis (upper right diagram) may still give the impression that the data has a systematic variation that is captured by the model. But viewing the whole range reveals that the model is fitted to data where variation is negligible (bottom diagrams), just as in Muurinen et al. (1985).

Data and model for strontium presented in Eriksen et al. (1999) look like this:

The model (line) has parameters \(D_p = 3 \cdot 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\) and \(D_s = 1 \cdot 10^{-11}\;\mathrm{m^2/s}\), and the source for the data points labeled “Eriksen 84” is found here.

In this case, not even the diagram presented in the article (left) seems to support the promoted model. This is also confirmed when utilizing a linear y-axis, and showing the full model variation (right diagram).

Eriksen et al. (1999) conclude that strontium diffusivities are basically independent of \(K_d\), but claim, in contrast to Muurinen et al. (1985), that cesium diffusivity depends significantly on \(K_d\):

[I]n the \(K_d\) interval 0.01 to 1 the apparent \(\mathrm{Cs}^+\) diffusivity decreases by approximately one order of magnitude whereas for \(\mathrm{Na}^+\) and \(\mathrm{Sr}^{2+}\) the apparent diffusivity is virtually constant.

They also claim that the surface diffusion model fits the data:

\(D_\mathrm{a}\) curves for \(\mathrm{Cs}^+\) and \(\mathrm{Sr}^{2+}\), calculated using a Eq. (6) [eq. 1 here], are plotted in Fig. 4. As can be seen, good fits to experimental data were obtained […]

Note that the variation in the model for cesium is motivated by three data points with relatively high diffusivity and basically the same \(K_d \sim 0.05\;\mathrm{m^3/kg}\). It seems like the model has been fitted to these points, while the point at \(K_d \sim 0.02\;\mathrm{m^3/kg}\) has been mainly neglected. The resulting model has a huge bulk water diffusivity (\(D_p\)), which is about 7 times larger than in the corresponding fit in Muurinen et al. (1985), and only 2.5 times smaller than the diffusivity for cesium in pure water.

Note that, if you claim that the surface diffusion model fits in this case, you implicitly claim that the observed variation — which still is negligible on the scale of the full model variation — is caused by the influence of this enormous (for a 1800 \(\mathrm{kg/m^3}\) sample) bulk pore water diffusivity; with a more “reasonable” value for \(D_p\), the model no longer fits. There are consequently valid reasons to doubt that the claimed \(K_d\) dependence is real. We will return to this fit in the next section.

Gimmi & Kosakowski (2011)

We have now seen several examples of authors erroneously claiming (or implying) that a surface diffusion model is valid, when the actual data for “\(D_a\)” has no significant \(K_d\)-dependency. For reasons I cannot get my head around, this flawed treatment is still in play.

Rather than identifying the obvious problem with the previously presented fits, Gimmi and Kosakowski (2011) instead extended the idea of expressing the diffusivity as a function of \(K_d\) by using scaled, dimensionless quantities

\begin{equation} D_\mathrm{arw} = \frac{D_\mathrm{a}\tau_w}{D_0} \tag{2} \end{equation}

\begin{equation} \kappa = \frac{\rho K_d}{\phi} \end{equation}

where \(D_0\) is the corresponding diffusivity in pure water and \(\tau_w\) is the “tortuosity factor” for water in the system of interest. This factor is simply the ratio between the water diffusivity in the system of interest and the water diffusivity in pure water (I have written about the problem with factors like this here).

The idea — it seems — is that using \(D_\mathrm{arw}\) and \(\kappa\) as variables should make it possible to directly compare the mobility of a given species in systems differing in density, clay content, etc.

Even though it makes some sense that the diffusivity of a specific species scales with the diffusivity of water in the same system, the above procedure inevitably introduces more variation in the data — both because an additional measured quantity (water diffusivity) is involved when evaluating the scaled diffusivity, but also because water diffusivity may depend differently on density as compared with the diffusivity of the species under study.

Also Gimmi and Kosakowski (2011) use the flawed surface diffusion model for analysis, and their expression for \(D_\mathrm{arw}\) is

\begin{equation} D_\mathrm{arw} = \frac{1+\mu_s\kappa}{1+\kappa} \tag{3} \end{equation}

where \(\mu_s = D_s\tau_w/D_0\) is a “relative surface mobility”. This equation is obtained from eq. 1, by dividing by \(D_p\) and assuming \(D_p = D_0/\tau_w\).

Gimmi and Kosakowski (2011) fit eq. 3 to a large set of collected data, measured in various types of material, including bentonites, clay rocks, and clayey soils. This is their result for cesium7 (the model curve is eq. 3 with \(\mu_s = 0.031\)8)

Viewed as a whole, this data is more scattered as compared with the previous studies. This is reasonably an effect of the larger diversity of the samples, but also an effect of multiplying the “raw” diffusion coefficient with the factor \(\tau_w\) (eq. 2).

Just as in the previous studies we have looked at, the published plot (similar to the left diagram) may give the impression of a systematic variation of the diffusivity with \(K_d\) (it contains partly the same data). But just as before, a linear y-axis (right diagram) reveals that the model is fitted only to data where variation is negligible.

Note that the three data points that contributed to the majority of the variation in the fitted model in Eriksen et al. (1999) here appear as outliers.9 The variation with \(K_d\) for cesium claimed in that study is thus invalidated by this larger data set.

As we have noted already, the only reasonable conclusion to draw from this data is that there is no systematic \(K_d\)-dependency on diffusivity of cesium or strontium, and that it does not — in any reasonable sense — fit the surface diffusion model. Yet, also Gimmi and Kosakowski (2011) imply that the surface diffusion is valid:

The data presented here show a general agreement with a simple surface diffusion model, especially when considering the large errors associated with the \(D_\mathrm{erw}\) and \(D_\mathrm{arw}\).

This paper, however, contains an even worse “fit” to strontium data, as compared to the earlier studies (the left diagram is similar to the how it is presented in the article, the right diagram uses a linear y-axis; the line is eq. 3 with \(\mu_s = 0.24\)8):

This data does not suggest a variation in accordance with the adopted model even when plotted in a log-log diagram. With a linear y-axis, the dependence rather seems to be the opposite: \(D_\mathrm{arw}\) appears to increase with \(\kappa\). However, I suspect that this is a not a “real” dependence, but rather an effect of trying to construct a “relative” diffusivity; note that while \(\kappa\) spans four orders of magnitude, \(D_\mathrm{arw}\) scatters only by a factor of 5 or 6. Nevertheless, how this data can be claimed to show “general agreement” with the surface diffusion model is a mystery to me.

The view is similar for sodium (the left diagram is similar to the how it is presented in the article, the right diagram uses a linear y-axis; the line is eq. 3 with \(\mu_s=0.52\)8):

Even if the model in this case only displays minor variation, it can hardly be claimed to fit the data: again, the data suggests a diffusivity that increases with \(\kappa\). But a significant amount of these data points have \(D_\mathrm{arw} > 1\), which is not likely to be true, as it indicates that the relative mobility for sodium is larger than for water. Consequently, the major contribution of the variation seen in this data is most probably noise.

Gimmi and Kosakowski (2011) also examined diffusivity for calcium, and the data looks like this (the left diagram is similar to the how it is presented in the article, the right diagram uses a linear y-axis; the line is eq. 3 with \(\mu_s=0.1\)8):

Here it looks like the data, to some extent, behaves in accordance with the model also when plotted with linear y-axis covering the full model variation. However, there are significantly less data reported for calcium (as compared with cesium, strontium, and sodium) and the model variation is supported only by a few data points10. I therefore put my bet on that if calcium diffusivity is studied in more detail, the dependence suggested by the above plot will turn out to be spurious.11

Some thoughts

I am more than convinced that the only reasonable starting point for modeling saturated bentonite is a homogeneous description. I had nevertheless expected to at least have to come up with an argument against the multi-porous view put forward in the considered publications (and in many others). I am therefore quite surprised to find that this argument is already provided by the data in the very same publications (and even by the statements, sometimes): there is nothing in the data here reviewed that seriously suggests that cation diffusion is influenced by a heterogeneous pore structure.

Still, the unsupported idea that cations in compacted bentonite are supposed to diffuse in two (or more) different types of water domains has evidently propagated through the scientific literature for decades, and a multi-porous view is mainstream in modern bentonite research. It is difficult to not feel disheartened when faced with this situation. What would it take for researchers to begin scrutinize their assumptions? Is nobody interested in the topics we are supposed to study?

Footnotes

[1] Unfortunately, a quantity which by many is incorrectly interpreted as an “apparent” diffusivity.

[2] I use quotation marks to indicate that \(D_a\) is a parameter in the traditional diffusion-sorption model, a model not valid for compacted bentonite. Still, this parameter is often reported as if it was a directly measured quantity.

[3] I have also derived a correct version of the surface diffusion model, which does not involve apparent diffusivity.

[4] The article states \(\epsilon D_p = 3.5\cdot 10^{-11}\; \mathrm{m^2/s}\), where \(\epsilon\) is the porosity. \(D_p = 1.2\cdot 10^{-10} \; \mathrm{m^2/s}\) corresponds to \(\epsilon = 0.29\).

[5] In this study, both \(K_d\) and \(D_a\) were evaluated by fitting the traditional diffusion-sorption model to concentration measurements.

[6] I have had no access to this document, and I have not verified e.g. sample density (this data set is different from that presented in the previous section). Instead, I have read these values from the diagram in Eriksen et al. (1999).

[7] They actually divide their cesium data into two categories, which show quite different mobility. The data shown here — which includes bentonite samples — is for systems categorized as being “non-illite” or having Cs concentration above “trace”.

[8] According to the article table, the fitted values for \(\mu_s\) are 0.52 (Na), 0.39 (Sr), 0.087 (Ca), and 0.015 (Cs). The plotted lines, however, appear to instead use what is listed as “mean \(\mu_s\)”. Here, I have used these \(\mu_s\)-values: 0.52 (Na), 0.24 (Sr), 0.1 (Ca), and 0.031 (Cs).

[9] This cluster contains a fourth data point, from Jensen and Radke (1988).

[10] All data for calcium is essentially from only two different sources: Staunton (1990) and Oscarsson (1994).

[11] It would also be more than amazing if it turns out — after it is verified that Cs, Na, and (especially) Sr show no significant \(K_d\) dependence — that Ca diffusivity actually varies in accordance with the flawed surface-diffusion model!

Swelling pressure, part V: Suction

There are several “descriptions” of bentonite swelling. While a few of them actually denies any significant role played by the exchangeable cations, most of these descriptions treat the exchangeable ions as part of an osmotic system. I have earlier discussed how the terms “osmotic” or “osmosis” may cause some confusion in different contexts, and discussed the confusion surrounding the treatment of electrostatic forces.

In this blog post I discuss the description of bentonite swelling often adopted in the fields of soil mechanics and geotechnical engineering. In particular, we focus on the concept of suction, which is central in these research fields, while being basically absent in others.

As far as I understand, suction is just the water chemical potential “disguised” as a pressure variable; although I have trouble finding clear-cut definitions, it seems clear that suction is directly inherited from the “water potential” concept, which has been central in soil science for a long time. Applied to bentonite, the geotechnical description is thus not principally different from the osmotic approach that I have presented previously. But the way the suction concept is (and isn’t) applied may cause unnecessary confusion regarding the swelling mechanisms. I think a root for this confusion is that suction involves both osmotic and capillary mechanisms.

Matric suction (capillary suction)

Matric suction is typically associated with capillarity, a fundamental mechanism in many conventional soil materials under so-called unsaturated conditions. A conventional soil with a significant amount of small enough pores shows capillary condensation, i.e. it contains liquid water below the condensation point for ordinary bulk water. Naturally, the equilibrium vapor pressure increases with the amount of water in the soil, as the pores containing liquid water become larger. For conventional soils, it therefore makes sense to speak of the degree of saturation of a sample, and to relate saturation and equilibrium vapor pressure by means of a water retention curve. Underlying this picture is the notion that the solid parts constitute a “soil skeleton” (the matrix), and that the soil can be viewed as a vessel that can be more or less filled with water.

The pressure of the capillary water is lower than that of the surrounding air, and is related to the curvature of the interfaces between the two phases (menisci), as expressed by the Young-Laplace equation. For a spherically symmetric meniscus this equation reads

\begin{equation} \Delta p = p_w – p_a = \frac{2\sigma}{r} \tag{1} \end{equation}

where \(p_a\) and \(p_w\) denote the pressures of air and capillary water, respectively, \(\sigma\) is the surface tension, and \(r\) is the radius of curvature of the interface. The sign of \(r\) depends on whether the interface bulges inwards (“concave”, \(r<0\)) or outwards (“convex”, \(r>0\)). For capillary water, \(r\) is negative and \(\Delta p\) — which is also called the Laplace pressure — is a negative quantity.

As far as I understand, matric suction is simply defined as the negative Laplace pressure, i.e.

\begin{equation} s_m = p_a – p_w \tag{2} \end{equation}

With this definition, suction has a straightforward physical meaning as quantifying the difference in pressure of the two fluids occupying the pore space, and clearly relates to the everyday use of the word.

Suction — in this capillary sense — gives a simple principal explanation for (apparent) cohesion in e.g. unsaturated sand: individual grains are pushed together by the air-water pressure difference, as schematically illustrated here (the yellow stuff is supposed to be two grains of sand, and the blue stuff water)

Net force for two sand grains exposed to matric suction

It is reasonable to assume that the net force transmitted by the soil skeleton — usually quantified using the concept of effective stress — governs several mechanical properties of the soil sample, e.g. shear strength. The above description also makes it reasonable to assume that effective stress depends on suction.

Thus, in unsaturated conventional soil are quantities like degree of saturation, pore size distribution, (matric) suction, effective stress, and shear strength very much associated. Another way of saying this is that there is an optimal combination of water content and particle size distribution for constructing the perfect sand castle.

The chemical potential of the capillary water is related to matric suction. Choosing pure bulk water under pressure \(p_a\)1 as reference, the chemical potential of the liquid phase in the soil is obtained by integrating the Gibbs-Duhem equation from \(p_a\) to \(p_w\)

\begin{equation} \mu = \mu_0 + \int_{p_a}^{p_w}v dP = \mu_0 + v\cdot \left(p_w – p_a \right) = \mu_0 -v\cdot s_m \tag{3} \end{equation}

where \(\mu_0\) is the reference chemical potential, \(v\) is the molar volume of water, and we have assumed incompressibility.

The above expression shows that matric suction in this case directly quantifies the (relative) water chemical potential. Note, however, that eq. 3 does not define matric suction; \(s_m\) is defined as a pressure difference between two phases (eq. 2), and happens to quantify the chemical potential under the present circumstances (pure capillary water).

A chemical potential can generally be expressed in terms of activity (\(a\))

\begin{equation} \mu = \mu_0 + RT \ln a \tag{4} \end{equation}

For our case, water activity is to a very good approximation equal to relative humidity, the ratio between the vapor pressures in the state under consideration and in the reference state, i.e. \(a = p_v/p_{v,0}\). Combining eqs. 3 and 4, we see that the vapor pressure in this case is related to matric suction as

\begin{equation} \frac{p_v}{p_{v,0}} = e^{-v\cdot s_m/RT} \end{equation}

Using the Young-Laplace equation (eq. 1) for \(s_m\) we can also write this as

\begin{equation} \frac{p_v}{p_{v,0}} = e^{\frac{2v\sigma}{RTr}} \end{equation}

This is the so-called Kelvin equation, which relates the equilibrium vapor pressure to the curvature of an air-pure water interface. Note that, since \(r<0\) for capillary water, the vapor pressure is lower than the corresponding bulk value (\(p_v < p_{v,0}\)).

Osmotic suction and total suction

So far, we have discussed suction in a capillary context, and related it to water chemical potential or vapor pressure. Now consider how the picture changes if the pores in our conventional soil contain saline water. Matric suction — i.e. the actual pressure difference between the pore solution and the surrounding air, sticking with eq. 2 as the definition — is in general different from the pure water case, because solutes influence surface tension. Also, water activity (vapor pressure) is different from the pure water case, but there is no longer a direct relation between water activity and matric suction, because water activity is independently altered by the presence of solutes.

The water chemical potential of a saline bulk solution (i.e. with no capillary effects), can be written in terms of the osmotic pressure, \(\pi(c)\)

\begin{equation} \mu(c) = \mu_0 – v\cdot\pi(c) \tag{5} \end{equation}

where we have assumed a salt concentration \(c\), and indicated that the osmotic pressure, and hence the chemical potential, depends on this concentration.

Although eq. 5 is of the same form as eq. 3, matric suction and osmotic pressure are very different quantities. The former is defined under circumstances where an actual pressure difference prevail between the air and water phases. In contrast, there is no pressure difference between the phases in a container containing both a solution and a gas phase. \(\pi(c)\) corresponds to the elevated pressure that must be applied for the solution to be in equilibrium with pure water kept at the reference pressure.

Despite the different natures of matric suction and osmotic pressure, the fields of geotechnical engineering and soil mechanics insist on also referring to \(\pi(c)\) as a suction variable: the osmotic suction. Similarly, total suction is defined as the sum of matric and osmotic suction

\begin{equation} \Psi = s_m + \pi(c) \end{equation}

These definitions seem to have no other purpose than to be able to write the water chemical potential generally as

\begin{equation} \mu = \mu_0 -v\cdot \Psi \tag{6} \end{equation}

Total suction is thus de facto defined simply as the (relative) value of the water chemical potential, expressed as a pressure (I think this is completely analogous to “total water potential” in soil science).

Eq. 6 shows that \(\Psi\) is directly related to water activity, or vapor pressure, and we can write

\begin{equation} \frac{p_v}{p_{v,0}} = e^{-v\cdot \Psi/RT} \tag{7} \end{equation}

This relation is quite often erroneously referred to as the Kelvin equation (or “Kelvin’s law”) in the bentonite literature. But note that the above equation just restates the definition of water activity, because \(v\cdot\Psi\) cannot be reduced to anything more concrete than the relative value of the water chemical potential. The Kelvin equation, on the other hand, expresses something more concrete: the equilibrium vapor pressure for a curved air-water interface. Some clay literature refer to the above relation as the “Psychrometric law”, but that name seems not established in other fields.2

A definition is motivated by its usefulness, and total change in water chemical potential is of course central when considering e.g. moisture movement in soil. My non-geotechnical brain, however, is not fond of extending the “suction” variable in the way outlined above. To start with, there is already a variable to use: the water chemical potential. Also, “total suction” no longer has the direct relation to the everyday use of the word suction: there is no “sucking” going on in a saline bulk solution,3 while in a capillary there is. Furthermore, with a saline pore solution there is no direct relation between (total) suction and e.g. effective stress or shear strength.

Although both matric suction and osmotic pressure under certain circumstances can be measured in a direct way, it seems that (total) suction usually is quantified by measuring/controlling the vapor pressure with which the soil sample is in equilibrium. Actually, one of the more comprehensive definitions of various “suctions” that I have been able to find — in Fredlund et al. (2012) — speaks only of various vapor pressures (although based on the capillary and osmotic concepts):4

Matric or capillary component of free energy: Matric suction is the equivalent suction derived from the measurement of the partial pressure of the water vapor in equilibrium with the soil-water relative to the partial pressure of the water vapor in equilibrium with a solution identical in composition with the soil-water.

Osmotic (or solute) component of free energy: Osmotic suction is the equivalent suction derived from the measurement of the partial pressure of the water vapor in equilibrium with a solution identical in composition with the soil-water relative to the partial pressure of water vapor in equilibrium with free pure water.

Total suction or free energy of soil-water: Total suction is the equivalent suction derived from the measurement of the partial pressure of the water vapor in equilibrium with the soil-water relative to the partial pressure of water vapor in equilibrium with free pure water.

It seems that such operational definitions of suction has made the term synonymous with “vapor pressure depression” in large parts of the bentonite scientific literature.

Suction in bentonite

In the above discussion we had mainly a conventional soil in mind. When applying the suction concepts to bentonite,5 I think there are a few additional pitfalls/sources for confusion. Firstly, note that the definitions discussed previously involve “a solution identical in composition with the soil-water”. But soil-water that contains appreciable amounts of exchangeable ions — as is the case for bentonite — cannot be realized as an external solution.

It seems that this “complication” is treated by assuming that an external solution in equilibrium with a bentonite sample is the soil-water (this is analogous to how many geochemists use the term “porewater” in bentonite contexts). Not surprisingly, this treatment has bizarre consequences. The conclusion for e.g. a salt free bentonite sample — which is in equilibrium with pure water — is that it lacks osmotic suction, and that its lowered vapor pressure (when isolated and unloaded) is completely due to matric suction! I think this is such an odd outcome that it is worth repeating: A system dominated by interlayer pores, containing dissolved cations at very high concentrations, is described as lacking osmotic pressure! It is not uncommon to find descriptions like this one (from Lang et al. (2019))

The total suction of unsaturated soils consists of matric and osmotic suctions (Yong and Warkentin, 1975; Fredlund et al., 2012; Lu and Likos, 2004). In clays, the matric suction is due to surface tension, adsorptive forces and osmotic forces (i.e. the diffuse double layer forces), whereas the osmotic suction is due to the presence of dissolved solutes in the pore water.

We apparently live in a world where “matric suction” consists of “osmotic forces”, while the same “osmotic forces” do not contribute to “osmotic suction”. Except when the clay contains excess ions, in which case we have an arbitrary combination of the two “suctions” (note also that “osmotic suction” and “osmotic swelling” are two quite different things).

Although the above consequence is odd, it is still only a matter of definition: accepting that “matric suction” involves osmotic forces (which I don’t recommend), the description may still be adequate in principle; after all, “total suction” quantifies the reduction of the water chemical potential.

But the focus on “matric suction” also reveals a conceptual view of bentonite structure that I find problematic: it suggests a first order approximation of bentonite as a conventional soil, i.e. as an assemblage of solid grains separated from an aqueous phase (and a gas phase). This “matric” view is fully in line with the idea of “free water” in bentonite, and it is quite clear that this is a prevailing view in the geotechnical, as well as in the geochemical, literature. For instance, with the formulation “the presence of dissolved solutes in the pore water” in the above quotation, the “pore water” the authors have in mind is a charge neutral bulk water solution.

With the “matric” conceptual view, the degree of saturation becomes a central variable in much soil mechanical analyses of bentonite. When dealing with actual unsaturated bentonite samples, I guess this makes sense, but once a sample is saturated this variable has lost much of its meaning.6 Consider e.g. the different expected behaviors if drying e.g. a water saturated metal filter or a saturated bentonite sample.

The different nature of drying a metal filter compared with drying a saturated bentonite sample

The equilibrium vapor pressure of both these systems is lower than the corresponding pure bulk water value. For the metal filter, the lowered water activity is of course due to capillarity, i.e. there is an actual pressure reduction in the water phase (matric suction!). When lowering the external vapor pressure below the equilibrium point (i.e. drying), capillary water migrates out of the filter, while the metal structure itself remains intact. In this case, as the system remains defined in a reasonable way, it is motivated to speak of the saturation state of the filter.

For a drying bentonite sample, the behavior is not as well defined, and depends on how the drying is performed and on initial water content. For a quasi-static process, where the external vapor pressure is lowered in small steps at an arbitrary slow rate, it should be clear that the entire sample will respond simply by shrinking. In this case it does not make much sense to speak of the sample as still being saturated, nor to speak of it as having become unsaturated.

For a more “violent” drying process, e.g. placing the bentonite sample in an oven at 105 °C , it is also clear that — rather than resulting in a neatly shrunken, dense piece of clay — the sample now will suffer from macroscopic cracks and other deformations. Neither in this case does it make much sense to try to define the degree of saturation, in relation to the sample initially put in the oven.

Note also that if we, instead of drying, increase the external vapor pressure from the initial equilibrium value, the metal filter will not respond much at all, while the bentonite sample immediately will begin to swell.

I hope that this example has made it clear, not only that the degree of saturation is in general ill-defined for bentonite, but also that a bentonite sample behaves more as an aqueous solution rather than as a conventional soil: if we alter external vapor pressure, an aqueous solution responds by either “swelling” (taking up water) or “shrinking” (giving off water). A main aspect of this conceptual view of bentonite — which we may call the “osmotic” view — is that water does not form a separate phase.7 This was pointed out e.g. by Bolt and Miller (1958) (referring to this type of system as an “ideal clay-water system”)

In contrast to the familiar case described is the ideal clay-water system in which the particles are not in direct contact but are separated by layers of water. Removal of water from such a system does not introduce a third phase but merely causes the particles to move closer to one another with the pores remaining water saturated.

From these considerations it follows that a generally consistent treatment is to relate bentonite water activity to water content, rather than to degree of saturation.

Another consequence of adopting a “matric” view of bentonite (i.e. to include osmotic forces in “matric suction”) is that “matric suction” loses its direct connection with effective stress. This can be illustrated by taking the “osmotic” view: just as the mechanical properties of an aqueous solution (e.g. viscosity) do not depend critically on whether or not it is under (osmotic) pressure, we should not expect e.g. bentonite shear strength to be directly related to swelling pressure.8

Footnotes

[1] Often, the air is at atmospheric pressure, in which case the reference is the ordinary standard state.

[2] The relatively common misspelling “Psychometric law” is kind of funny.

[3] The cautious reader may remark that saline solutions do “suck”, in terms of osmosis. But note the following: 1) Osmosis requires a semi-permeable membrane, separating the solution from an external water source. We have said nothing about the presence of such a component in the present discussion. The way osmotic suction sometimes is described in the literature makes me suspect that some authors are under the impression that the mere presence of a solute causes a pressure reduction in the liquid. 2) In the presence of a semi-permeable membrane, osmosis has no problem occurring without a pressure difference between between the two compartments. 3) For cases when the solution is acted on by an increased hydrostatic pressure, water is transported from lower to higher pressure. It is difficult to say that there is any “sucking” in such a process (I would argue that the establishment of a pressure difference is an effect, rather than a cause, in the case of osmosis) 4) The idea that a solution has a well-defined partial water pressure is wrong.

[4] I’m still not fully satisfied with this definition: It may be noted that the definitions are somewhat circular (“matric suction is the equivalent suction…”), so they still require that we have in mind that “suction” also is defined in terms of a certain vapor pressure ratio (e.g. eq. 7). Note also that the headings speak of “free energy”. Perhaps I am nitpicking, but (free) energy is an extensive quantity, while suction (pressure) is intensive. Thus, “free energy” here really mean “specific free energy” (or “partial free energy”, i.e. chemical potential). I think the soil science literature in general is quite sloppy with making this distinction.

[5] “Bentonite” is used in the following as an abbreviation for bentonite and claystone, or any clay system with significant cation exchange capacity.

[6] If you press bentonite granules to form a cohesive sample you certainly end up with a system having both water filled interlayer pores and air-filled macropores (or perhaps an even more complex pore structure). This blog post mainly concerns saturated bentonite, by which I mean bentonite material which does not contain any gas phase. We can thus speak of saturated bentonite, although a degree of saturation variable is not well defined.

[7] Rather, montmorillonite and water form a homogeneous mixture.

[8] However, bentonite strength relates indirectly to swelling pressure (under specific conditions) because both quantities depends on a third: density.

Anion-accessible porosity – a brief history

Genesis

In the beginning there was the Poisson-Boltzmann equation. Solving it for the case of a salt solution in contact with a negatively charged plane surface (a.k.a. the Gouy-Chapman model) gives the concentration of cations and anions in the solution as a function of the distance to the surface, like this1

Illustration of Gouy-Chapman concentration profiles

Note:

  1. The suppression of the anion concentration near the surface is often referred to as negative adsorption or anion exclusion. The total amount of excluded anions per unit surface area (indicated in green), usually labeled \(\Gamma^-\), is obtained by integrating the Poisson-Boltzmann equation.
  2. There are, nevertheless, anions everywhere! This model will give zero anion concentration only for an infinitely negative electrostatic potential (or if \(c_0 = 0\), of course).

A clever way to utilize negative adsorption is for estimating the amount of smectite surface area in a soil sample, first suggested by Schofield (1947). This is done by comparing measured values of negative adsorption with the appropriate expression evaluated from the Gouy-Chapman model. When doing the necessary math2 for such an analysis you naturally end up with expressions like

\begin{equation} \frac{\Gamma^-}{c_0} \sim \text{const.}\cdot \kappa^{-1} \tag{1} \end{equation}

where \(c_0\) is the external anion concentration (i.e. far from the surface), and \(\kappa^{-1}\) is the Debye length. This equation, having the dimension of length, can be interpreted as the width, \(d_{ex}\), of a region devoid of anions, which gives the same amount of negative adsorption as the full exclusion region, as illustrated here (yellow)

Illustration exclusion distance

However, note:

  1. This is just an equivalent, fictitious region.
  2. Anions are still everywhere!

Due to its convenience in the analysis, the notion of an equivalent region devoid of anions — often referred to in terms of “volume of exclusion” — became rather popular. At the same time, authors stopped emphasizing that this is a fictitious region. A clear example of such a transition is Edwards and Quirk (1962) who states that \(\Gamma^-/c_0\) “can be regarded as the surface depth from which chloride ions are excluded”, while in Edwards et al. (1965) the same quantity (multiplied by area) is referred to as “the volume from which chloride is excluded”. The latter statement is, strictly speaking, wrong: the actual volume from which anions are excluded is the entire region where the concentration deviates from \(c_0\), and the exclusion is only partial — there are anions everywhere!

Compacted bentonite

But the idea of an actual region devoid of anions seems to have stuck, and I believe that this influenced the interpretation of diffusion in compacted bentonite3 in terms of “effective porosity” or “anion accessible-porosity”. Concepts which, in turn, have motivated the idea that bentonite contains bulk water (“free water”, “pore water”).

The first example of this usage in studies of compacted bentonite, that I know of, is in Muurinen et al. (1988) reporting chloride through-diffusion in bentonite with various densities and background concentrations.

The tracer concentration of the porewater clearly depends on the compaction of bentonite and on the salt concentration of the circulating water. The effective porosity can even be less than one percent when the salt concentration is low and compaction high. Also, the diffusivities strongly depend on the density of bentonite and on the salt concentration.

The low tracer concentration in bentonite in the diffusion tests […] are indicative of ion-exclusion [5]. Ion-exclusion probably decreases the effective size of the pores, which changes the geometric factor, of bentonite and thus the apparent diffusivity. In addition to the geometric factor, the effective diffusivity takes into account the effective pore volume; thus, the dependence is even stronger.

“Effective porosity” has not been defined earlier in the article, so it is difficult to know precisely what the authors mean by the term. But it is relatively clear4 from the second paragraph that they explain the measured fluxes as being a result of a physical variation of the pore volume accessible to anions, rather than as a variation of the tracer concentration in a homogeneous system. This is also supported by their writing in the conclusions section: “The decreased pore size and porosity caused by ion-exclusion could at least qualitatively explain the dependence.”

However, the reference they provide (“[5]”) is Soudek et al. (1984), who calculate anion exclusion by means of — the Poisson-Boltzmann equation! (Which predicts anions everywhere.) In fact, Soudek et al. (1984) calculate what they term “Donnan exclusion” in a homogeneous model of “parallel, equally-spaced platelets”. Thus, the reference supplied by Muurinen et al. (1988) is in direct contradiction with their interpretation that the pore size and porosity is decreasing with the salt concentration.

Soudek et al. (1984) even provide an example of how the average chloride concentration between the platelets depends on the separation distance, when in equilibrium with an external solution of 10 mM, and write

Note the extremely strong rejection of the co-ion. At 50 w% clay (\(\sim 25\)Å plate separation) almost 90% of the anions are rejected.

which is completely in line with the observation of Muurinen et al. (1988) that “The effective porosity can even be less than one percent when the salt concentration is low and compaction high”, if only “effective porosity” is replaced by “concentration between the plates”.

It makes me a bit tired to discover that the record could have been set straight over 30 years ago regarding which pores anions can access. Instead the bentonite research community, for the most part, doubled down on the idea that anions only have accesses to parts of the pore volume, or that compacted bentonite contains a significant amount of bulk water.

An explicit description of interpreting “chloride through diffusion porosity” as a specific, limited part of the pore volume is given by Bradbury and Baeyens (2003)

In the interlayer spaces and regions where the individual montmorillonite stacks are in close proximity, double layer overlap will occur and anion exclusion effects will take place. Exclusion will probably be so large that it is highly unlikely that anions can move through these regions (Bolt and de Haan, 1982). However, Cl anions do move relatively readily through compacted bentonite since diffusion rates have been measured in ‘‘through-diffusion’’ tests […]

If the Cl anions cannot move through the interlayer and overlapping double layer regions because of anion exclusion effects, then it is reasonable to propose that the ‘‘free water’’ must provide the diffusion pathways (Fig. 1). Therefore, the hypothesis is that the pore volume associated with the transport of chloride (and other anions) is the ‘‘free water’’ volume, and that this is the porewater in a compacted bentonite.

Here they refer to Bolt and De Haan, (1982)5 when arguing for that anions do not have access to interlayers. But the analysis in this reference is based on nothing but — the Poisson-Boltzmann equation! (which predicts anions everywhere)

Another thing to note is the notion of “overlapping” diffuse layers. Studies of negative adsorption to quantify surface area typically look at soil suspensions, with a solid part of a few percent. In such systems it is justified to perform the analysis on a single diffuse layer because the distance between separate montmorillonite particles is large enough. But at higher density there is not enough space between separate clay particles for the ion concentrations to ever reach the “external” value (\(c_0\)) — the diffuse layers “overlap”.6

It has been shown that effects of “overlapping” diffuse layers on the resulting negative adsorption is significant already at a a solid content of 6%. When carrying over the anion exclusion analysis to compacted bentonite — with solid content typically above 70%! — it therefore becomes near impossible to believe that the system should contain regions unaffected by the montmorillonite (“free water”). Yet, the argumentation above, apart from being flawed in the way it refers to the Poisson-Boltzmann equation, relies critically on the existence of such regions.

The mindful reader may remark that compacted bentonite, if it mainly contains “overlapping” diffuse layers, perhaps is devoid of anions after all. But the Poisson-Boltzmann equation predicts anions everywhere also for “overlapping” diffuse layers. Actually, the model by Soudek et al. (1984), discussed above, considers this case.

Despite the improbability that montmorillonite particles in compacted bentonite can be spaced so far apart as to allow for bulk water within the system, the idea of anions only having access to “free” water was nevertheless further pursued by Van Loon et al. (2007). They provide a picture similar to this

Stack in Van Loon et al. 2007

The idea here (and elsewhere) is that bentonite consists of “stacks” of individual montmorillonite particles (TOT-layers) interlaced with interlayer water.7 The space between “stacks” is assumed large enough for diffuse layers to fully develop, and to merge into a bulk solution (“free water”), whose volume depends on the ionic strength, reminiscent of the excluded volume in eq 1.8 Anions are postulated to only have access to this “free” water.

But as references for anion exclusion is once again simply given studies based on the Poisson-Boltzmann equation (in particular, Bolt and De Haan, (1982)). But these — as I hope has been made clear by now — predict anions everywhere, and consequently do not support the suggested model. In this case, the mismatch between model and supporting references stands out, as the term “effective porosity” is used interchangeably with the term “Cl-accessible porosity”; if Gouy-Chapman theory in a convoluted way can be used to define an “effective” porosity (having no other meaning than a fictitious, equivalent volume), there is no possibility whatsoever to use it to support the idea of anions having access to only parts of the pore space. Ironically, “anion-accessible porosity” seems to be the most popular term nowadays for describing effects of anion exclusion in compacted bentonite.

The strongest confirmation that the modern-day concept of anion-accessible porosity is simply a misuse of the exclusion-volume concept is given in Tournassat and Appelo (2011). They provide a quite extensive background for the type of anion exclusion they consider, and it is based on the excluded-volume concept discussed above. They even explicitly calculate the excluded-volume (named “total chloride exclusion distance”) only to directly discard it as not suitable

However, this binary representation (absence or presence of chloride, Fig. 3) is not very representative of the system since the EDL is not completely devoid of anions.

Yet, after making this statement that anions are everywhere (in the diffuse layer) they anyway define anion accessible porosity as an effective, fictitious volume!9

Interlayers

Apart from treating the diffuse layer incorrectly, Bradbury and Baeyens (2003), Van Loon et al. (2007) and Tournassat and Appelo (2011) all make the additional unjustified assumption that interlayers — which in these studies are defined as distinctly different from diffuse layers10 — are completely devoid of anions. Bradbury and Bans (2003) cites conventional Poisson-Boltzmann based studies to incorrectly support this claim (see above). Also Van Loon et al. (2007) use Bolt and De Haan, (1982) as a reference11

Due to the very narrow space, the double layers in the interlayers overlap and the electric potential in the truncated layer becomes large leading to a complete exclusion of anions from the interlayer (Bolt and de Haan, 1982; Pusch et al., 1990; Olin, 1994; Wersin et al., 2004). The interlayer water thus contains exclusively cations that compensate the permanent charges located in the octahedral layer of the clay.

Of the other sources cited, Pusch et al. (1990) mention “Donnan exclusion” as the reason preventing anions from having access to interlayers. But this is incorrect – Donnan equilibrium always gives a non-zero anion concentration in the interlayer (as long as the external concentration is non-zero). Wersin et al. (2004) only claim that anions are “excluded” from interlayers, without further explanation or references. (I haven’t managed to read Olin (1994) .)

Tournassat and Appelo (2011) cites Bourg et al. (2003) to support the claim that anions have no access to interlayers

When the dry density is above \(1.8 \;\mathrm{kg/dm^3}\), almost all the porosity resides in the interlayers of Na-montmorillonite. Since anions are excluded from the interlayers, the anion-accessible porosity becomes zero, and anion-diffusion is minimal (Bourg et al., 2003)

But in Bourg et al. (2003) is explicitly stated that anion exclusion from interlayers is only “partial”!

To sum up…

The idea that anions have access only to parts of the pore volume is widespread in today’s compacted bentonite research community. In this blog post I have shown that this idea emerges from misusing the concept of exclusion-volume, and that all references used to support ideas of “complete exclusion” rests on the Poisson-Boltzmann equation. The Poisson-Boltzmann equation, however, predicts anions everywhere! Thus, the concept of an anion-accessible porosity, and the related idea that compacted bentonite contains different “types” of water, have not been provided with any kind of theoretical support.

In contrast, the result that anions have access to the entire pore volume is further supported both by molecular dynamics simulations, as well as by the empirical evidence for salt in interlayers.

Footnotes

[1] This figure is just an illustration, not an actual result. Update (220831): Actual solutions to the Poisson-Boltzmann equation are presented here.

[2] Schofield writes with an enthusiasm seldom seen in modern scientific papers: “I considered that it would be possible to compute the negative adsorption of the repelled ions from the basic assumptions of Gouy’s theory of the diffuse electric double layer, and therefore invited Mr. M. H. Quenouille to tackle the mathematical difficulties involved. Complete solutions have now been obtained for electrolytes in which the ions have valency ratios 1:2, 1:1, and 2:1, and a full account of this work will be submitted for publication shortly.”

[3] “Bentonite” is used in the following as an abbreviation of “Bentonite and claystone”.

[4] I mean that the word “probably” as used here does not belong in a scientific text.

[5] Sciencedirect.com dates this reference to 1979. The book has a second revised edition, however, published in 1982.

[6] I use quotation marks when writing “overlap” because I think this wording gives the wrong impression in compacted clay: with an average distance between montmorillonite particles of around 1 nm, the concept of individual diffuse layers has lost its meaning.

[7] I plan to comment on “stacks” in a future blog post. Update (211027): Stacks make no sense.

[8] The volume is, however, not proportional to the Debye length, but depends exponentially on ionic strength.

[9] The “anion accessible porosity” is defined in this paper as \(\epsilon_{an} = \epsilon_{free} + \epsilon_D\cdot c_D/c_{free}\), where \(\epsilon_{free}\) is the porosity of a presumed bulk water phase in the bentonite, and \(\epsilon_D\) quantifies the volume of an arbitrarily chosen “Donnan volume” which is (Donnan) equilibrated with the “free” solution. \(c_D\) is the anion concentration in this “Donnan volume”, and \(c_{free}\) is the anion concentration in the bulk water.

[10] In this context, “interlayers” are defined as being parts of “stacks”. I really need to write about “stacks”… Update (211027): Stacks make no sense

[11] Bolt and de Haan (and others) are fond of writing that anions in very narrow confinement are “almost completely excluded” or “virtually completely excluded”, indicating that they may neglect anions in these compartments, but also that they are aware of that the equations they use never give exactly zero anion concentration. When working with soil suspensions of only a few percent solids it may be a valid approximation to neglect anions in nm-wide pores. In compacted bentonite it is not.