Stewart's new table takes the form of an expanding spiral that resembles a galaxy. The form conveys the intimate relationship between chemistry to astronomy, the more traditionally wonder-inducing discipline. Thanks to the early chemists—and the revolution in physics they precipitated—astronomers today can determine the chemical composition of distant stars and planets, which provides important clues about their origin, destiny, and capacity for sustaining life.

Stewart has preserved the sequential march from light to heavy elements and all Mendeleev's groupings. But here the rows don't end abruptly, and related elements that were previously separated, like neon and sodium, have been reunited. There's no need for footnotes, and there's a convenient spot for neutronium (sometimes called "element zero" because it has no protons at all), which never found an appropriate perch in the old table.

Stewart's table also makes a bid for increased beauty. "The old table arose and survived because we live in a world of boxes," Stewart said when I reached him by phone. "We're used to them. But I think the human brain is actually more comfortable with curves. The old, square forms were very convenient for old-style industry. But until a few thousand years ago, humans lived happily in a world without rectangles."