Calumny

Calumny (pronounced kal-uhm-nee)

(1) A false statement, maliciously made, designed to injure the reputation of someone or something; a malicious utterance of false charges or misrepresentation; slander; defamation.

(2) The act of uttering calumnies; defamatory words.

(3) Such a false charge or misrepresentation.

(4) As “oath of calumny”, in historic Scots law, a method for the prevention of calumnious and unnecessary suits, by which both parties at the beginning of a cause swear, either personally or through counsel, that the facts set forth by them are true.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English calumnīe (false accusation, slander; objection raised in bad faith), from the fifteenth century Old French calomnie (slander (that in modern French endures as calomnie), from the Latin calumnia (trickery, subterfuge, misrepresentation, malicious charge), the construct being calumn- (thought originally a participle of calvī (to deceive; to trick) + -ia +-y).  The source of the Latin is murky but there are etymologists who maintain the primitive Indo-European cognates include the Ancient Greek kēlein (to bewitch, cast a spell) the Gothic holon (to slander), the Old Norse hol (praise, flattery), the Old English hol (slander) & holian (to betray) and the Old High German huolen (to deceive).  It’s suspected the whole group is from the same root as call.  The English word is a doublet of challenge.  Calumny is a noun & verb, calumniousness, calumniator & calumniation are nouns, calumniate, calumniated & calumniating are verbs, calumniatory & calumnious are adjectives and calumniously is an adverb; the noun plural is calumnies.

The Latin -ia and the Ancient Greek -ία (-ía) & -εια (-eia) were used to form abstract nouns of feminine gender (countries, diseases, species etc and, occasionally, collections of stuff).  The –y suffix was from the Middle English –y & -i, from the Old English -iġ (-y, -ic), from the Proto-Germanic -īgaz (-y, -ic), from the primitive Indo-European -kos, -ikos, & -iḱos (-y, -ic).  It was cognate with the Scots -ie (-y), the West Frisian -ich (-y), the Dutch -ig (-y), the Low German -ig (-y), the German -ig (-y), the Swedish -ig (-y), the Latin -icus (-y, -ic), the Sanskrit -इक (-ika) and the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós); a doublet of -ic.  The –y suffix was added to (1) nouns and adjectives to form adjectives meaning “having the quality of” and (2) verbs to form adjectives meaning "inclined to".  Words such as derogation, vilification, disapprobation obloquy, traducement etc can in meaning tend towards calumny don’t of necessity carry the “legal baggage” associated with fraudulent misrepresentation, defamation and such.  The modern slang “diss” (from Jamaican English or AAVE (African American Vernacular English and probably a short form of “disrespect” rather than “disparage”) can describe statements sounding calumnious typically they’re a traducement rather than something defamatory.  The adjective calumnious (slanderous, using calumny) emerged in the late fifteenth century and was the equivalent of the Latin calumniosus.  The verb calumniate (knowingly utter false charges) was from Latin calumniatus, past participle of calumniari (falsely to accuse) in use since the 1550s.  The noun calumniation (act of calumniating) was first documented in the 1540s and was the noun of action from calumniate.  The rarely-used noun calumniator (one who falsely and knowingly accuses another of anything disgraceful or maliciously propagates false reports) was in use by the 1560s, from Latin calumniator, an agent noun from calumniari.

Calumny is of course a feature of political exchanges but lest anyone suspects the twenty-first century represents a low point in public politeness, press reports of eighteenth & nineteenth century election campaigns are available and after reviewing these, readers can decide on which side of the Atlantic discourse was most calumnious.  The word calumny is now not commonly applied to political insults (thought often well-deserved) but is a part of the legal jargon in jurisdictions in the common law tradition.  In law, the use of “calumny” rests on the notions of “false, fraudulent & malicious” and is heard most often in matters of probate (the process of verifying the legality of a will).  In the administration of probate “fraudulent calumny” describes the act of a beneficiary making false representations to the person making their will (the testator or testatrix) about another person, the outcome of which is: (1) the beneficiary making the false representations inherits to a greater extent or (2) the person the subject of those representations inherits less.  While these outcomes may be similar to instances in which “undue influence” has been exercised upon a testator or testatrix, what makes fraudulent calumny different is that some sort of falsehood must be involved.  In matters of undue influence, the motives of the influencer may not be pure or honorable but the method of persuasion is more subtle and need not involve untruths, something that makes proving undue influence notoriously challenging because the testator or testatrix has made and executed the will of their own volition.  The text-books sometimes use the legal slang of the “drip, drip, drip of a slow poison” to distinguish undue influence from the sudden, lethal dose of fraudulent calumny.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

Borrowing from criminal law, the familiar maxim mens rea (from the Latin mēns + reus (literally “guilty mind” and the basis of the precept in English common law: Actus non facit reum nisi mens rea sit (the act does not make a person guilty unless the mind is also guilty), what a liability for fraudulent calumny hinges on is not that a representation was false but that it was by the calumniator known to be false or they were so reckless as to not to verity the authenticity of what they said.  Probate can however be a tangled web and in the case law there have been instances where conduct clearly was calumnious yet fraudulent calumny was not found because it was proved the disinheritance of the subject of the untrue representations (for wholly unrelated reasons) anyway have happened in accordance with the wishes of the testator or testatrix.  So there can be “other contextual reasons” leading to a will being changed and courts can find their existence wholly excludes the possibility of fraudulent calumny or reduce the strength of the “fraudulent calumny argument”, the latter vaguely along the lines of the “contributory negligence” concept in tort law.  As a category of claim to challenge the validity of a will, fraudulent calumny is in most jurisdictions rare for the practical reason it is so seldom successful; that’s not to say the act is necessarily uncommon, just that it’s hard to prove.  In some cases this can be because there’s a complete lack of evidence.  A malicious falsehood might well be told to someone making out their will that has the direct and immediate effect of them disinheriting the slandered party and making the person telling the untruth the sole beneficiary but, if only two people were ever part of a conversation behind closed doors and one is dead, there likely will be no evidence the untruth was ever uttered and while there may be other grounds upon which the will might be challenged, it usually would not be possible to find fraudulent calumny.

Nor is mere “untruth” or “recklessness” enough to sustain a finding of fraudulent calumny.  Were someone to have made any number of false representations to a testator or testatrix, even if it was found their will was in some way disadvantageous to the slandered party, if there’s compelling evidence the representations had no effect of the decisions of the testator or testatrix, there can be no finding of fraudulent calumny because there exists no casual connection between one act and another.  So it’s limited and intent alone does not create grounds.  Even if it can be proven the falsehoods were intended to cause a will to be changed that “guilty mind” become irrelevant if those statements can be shown to have had no effect.  In that it differs from the application of criminal law where, if one attempts to murder someone but is so inept the target (1) suffers no harm, (2) was unaware an attempt on their life had been made, (3) and in some way benefited from the attempt and (4) the perpetrator suffered some injury in making the attempt, the offence of attempted murder has still been committed and the incompetent assassin may be subject to prosecution.  So, on the path to the fraudulent calumny finishing line there are many hurdles and what a claimant must demonstrate is:

(1) One or more false representations were made.

(2) The representation(s) were made to the testator or testatrix.

(3) The representation(s) went to character or conduct of an existing or potential beneficiary of the will.

(4) The representation(s) were made for the purpose of inducing the testator or testatrix to alter their testamentary dispositions either (4.1) to leave more to the person making the false representation(s) or (4.2) exclude or leave less to the subject of the false representation(s).

(5) The false representation(s) must have been made in the knowledge they were untrue or with recklessness as to their truth

(6) On the balance of probabilities (ie, the common law test in civil matters), it was the false representation(s) that induced the induced the testator or testatrix to change their will.

That means it hangs on intent, event, cause and effect, thus the frequency with which lawyers use the phrase “notoriously difficult to prove” when the possibility of fraudulent calumny comes up in conversation; one can prove intent and event and even that the desired effect happened but if the cause was found to be unrelated, there can, as a matter of law, be no fraudulent calumny.  Despite the obstacles, the concept is simple: “The alleged “poisoner” is receiving a greater share of the estate than the claimant believes is (1) fair and (2) in accordance with the deceased’s true wishes and his has been achieved by the poisoner “poisoning” the mind of the testator or testatrix with untruths.”  Although “challenging”, on the basis of the evidence presented, courts can find fraudulent calumny established (although in some cases the judgment has made it difficult to work out “undue influence ended” and “fraudulent calumny began”.  Typically, except for theorists,  that matters little because the outcome is the critical point.  In Edwards v Edwards [2007] EWHC 1119 (Ch), a woman of 86 died some three months after cutting from her will one son & grandson, leaving the remaining son the estate’s sole beneficiary.  The evidence suggested the testatrix had at the time she executed her final will enjoyed full “testamentary capacity” (ie the “being of sound mind” thing) and both understood and approved the document’s contents; the burden to produce “compelling evidence” of undue influence or of fraudulent calumny thus fell upon the claimant seeking to have the new will set-aside in favour of the original executed a decade earlier.

Damn! A Book of Calumny (1918) by Henry Louis “H.L.” Mencken (1880–1956).  Although it was not his fault, Mencken lived too long and even by the 1930s was thought (though not by other curmudgeons) “dated”.  The Mencken of 1918 was however the author at his best, Damn! A Book of Calumny a collection of short, cynical, punchy pieces representative of a certain strain of US thought in the era.

After reviewing the evidence, the judge found the new will had been induced by undue influence and set it aside, restoring the original.  In the summary, the judge listed the principles: (1) There is no presumption of undue influence for testamentary dispositions; the burden lies on the challenger; (2) the facts must be inconsistent with any hypothesis other than undue influence; (3) undue influence may arise through coercion (pressure overbearing the testator’s volition without convincing judgment) or fraud.  He added that “fraudulent calumny” exists where a person “poisons the testator’s mind” against a “natural beneficiary” by dishonest aspersions known to be false or made recklessly as to their truth.  In other words, “fraudulent calumny” may be thought a type of (or element in”) undue influence meaning the latter can be found to exist in the absence of the former but the former is a “flavour of the latter”.  In Edwards v Edwards, the just found both were operative.  Because fraudulent calumny cases are rare, the modern reiteration of principles was helpful.  The judge emphasized that while the relevant standard of proof is the civil balance of probabilities, the evidence must be compelling and the facts inconsistent with any innocent hypothesis.  Although understood as an old legal orthodoxy, the judgment in Edwards v Edwards confirmed fraudulent calumny is a “stand-alone” basis on which a will may be set aside, quite distinct from coercion.

Even in Kremlin the word proved useful.  On 5 March, 1940, comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) had signed an “open-ended death warrant” authorizing Lavrentiy Beria (1899–1953; head of the Soviet secret police 1938-1946) to “apply the supreme penalty, shooting” to Polish POWs (prisoners of war) who refused to accept Soviet authority; consequently almost 22,000 were executed with their the bodies buried in a mass grave in the forest of Katyn.  The corpses were unearthed by the German army in 1943 and Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945), instantly alive to the possibility of driving a wedge between the Soviets and its western Allies, arranged a forensic examination through the office of the neutral Swiss Red Cross, their unambiguous findings quickly published by the Germans.  In London, the Polish government-in-exile had long suspected the Soviets were responsible for the missing troops but found their repeated attempts to pursue the matter stonewalled and their protests suppressed.

As a cynical opportunist, comrade Stalin had few peers and not only did he deny his government’s involvement in the mass murder, he accused the “London Poles” (an annoyance to him because he was backing an alternative, “puppet communist government” under his control) of siding with the Nazis, the headline “HITLER’S POLISH COLLABORATORS!” appearing in Pravda on 19 April, 1943; within a week, Moscow had broken off diplomatic relations with the London Poles for failing “to offer a rebuff to the vile Fascist calumny.”  The British and Americans were well-aware of the truth but relations with the Kremlin were in 1943 “tense” because the so-called “second front” (the invasion of Europe from the west) had again been postponed so, not wishing further to antagonize comrade Stalin, on both sides of the Atlantic, blind eye were turned to the telescopes and diplomats inclined to “make a fuss” side-lined or posted somewhere remote.  Not until after the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 did the new government of Russia admit the truth about the Katyn massacre.

The Calumny of Apelles

Apelles of Kos was one of the most renowned painters in Ancient Greece during the fourth century BC.  The work (remembered as the Calumny of Apelles) that was reputedly his greatest masterpiece was lost but a vivid description by the Syrian-born Greek writer Lucian of Samosata (circa 125–circa 187) survived and a number of artists subsequently have interpreted the text and rendered versions in their own style.  Quite how reliable was Lucian’s ekphrasis (from the Ancient Greek ἔκφρασις (ékphrasis) (literally “I describe” and in modern use understood to mean “a detailed description”) can’t be known but that he was what would now be called a “social commentator” noted for his satires rather than an art critic has made some scholars of Antiquity caution the “description” might contain the odd embellishment or “slant”.  Despite that, it’s the only extant critique of the painting so that’s what artists have had to work with.  Appelles painted his Calumny as a “revenge work” after a rival wrongfully accused him of committing an act of treason against the Egyptian king.

La Calumnia de Apeles, (Calumny of Apelles, circa 1503), engraving in black on ivory laid paper by Girolamo Mocetto (circa 1470-circa 1534) after Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506).

Mocetto based his engraving of a drawing by Mantegna and versions by other artists also exist.  The theme of calumny (false accusation) obviously is a thread running through many societies (certainly in Italy during the dying days of the late Middle Ages) so the attraction to artists is not surprising.  Ever since one stone-age man (or woman) copied another’s cave-painting and claimed the work as original, artists have been accusing each-other of this and that, some claims calumniatory, some more measured.  For historians of art, the print is interesting because it’s a “work in progress”, the shading not yet added to the basilica’s dome.  Mocetto remained true to Lucian’s words but relocated the allegory’s scene to Venice’s Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, Andrea del Verrocchio’s (circa 1435–1488) equestrian monument to Bartolomeo Colleoni (1400–1475) standing in the background.  Attended by Ignorance and Suspicion, Midas with his donkey’s ears extends his hand to Calumny while she stands at some distance.  Calumny is the most beautiful woman of her age but is riddled with malignant passions, her fury and wrath symbolized by the blazing torch she holds in one hand, the other dragging by the hair the blameless young man she has slandered; he reaches his hand to the heavens, calling on the gods to bear witness to his innocence.  Calumny is attended to by Envy, pale and wasted away by lingering illness, while following her are Fraud & Conspiracy.  Dressed in tattered black is the mournful Repentance, tears in her eyes as in shame she glances at Truth slowly approaching.

La Calumnia de Apeles (Calumny of Apelles, circa 1497), tempera on panel by Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi (Sandro Botticelli) (circa 1445-1510).

Botticelli’s Calumny is the most famous of the genre and also was true to the spirit of Lucian’s ekphrasis, the figures personifications of vice & virtue, or the powerful & powerless (the king and victim).  From left to right, they represent (1) Truth, nude and pointing upwards to Heaven, (2) Repentance, in black (3) Perfidy (Conspiracy), in red and yellow, over the innocent half-naked (4) victim on the floor being pulled forward by the hair by (5) Calumny (Slander), in white and blue and holding a flaming torch, (6) Fraud (behind), tending to Calumny's hair, (7) Rancour (Envy), a bearded and hooded man in black, holding his hand towards (8) the king's eyes to obscure his view.  On the throne, the king has the donkey's ears of King Midas, while (9) Ignorance on his right and (10) Suspicion to his left grasp the ears as they whisper into them.  The king extends his hand towards Calumny, but his gaze is averted.  Historians say it’s at least possible Botticelli had in mind some unfortunate slandered chap (perhaps himself) but some years after he finished the work, the Florentine authorities received an anonymous letter, accusing the artist of “keeping a boy” and practicing homosexuality.  There’s no record of any prosecution being initiated and the consensus is the accusation was likely motivated by envy, vengeance or other of the vices Apelles of Kos depicted, all those years ago.  So it was a calumnious letter but not necessarily an untruth, Botticelli’s proclivities a matter of historic record.  The pattern remains current; when politicians sometimes complain a prosecution of them is “politically motivated”, that may well be true but doesn’t mean they’re not as guilty as sin of that with which they’ve been charged.

Director

Director (pronounced dih-rek-ter or dahy-rek-ter)

(1) A person or thing that directs others or other things (Director of Engineering, Director of Sales etc).

(2) In corporate law, one of a group of persons chosen to control or govern the affairs of a company or corporation, usually as a member of a board of directors and sometimes also including executive functions.

(3) The person responsible for the interpretive aspects of a stage, film, or television production; the person who supervises the integration of all the elements, as acting, staging, lighting etc.

(4) In musical or other artistic productions (stage, art galleries, opera etc) one in charge of all artistic (and sometimes administrative) matters (in larger operations the roles sometimes specialized: sound director, script director etc).

(5) The manager or chief executive of certain schools, institutes, government bureaux etc.

(6) In military use, a mechanical or electronic device that continuously calculates firing data for use against an airplane or other moving target, configured usually graphically to display (in real-time) the targets of a weapons system.

(7) In chemistry, the common axis of symmetry of the molecules of a liquid crystal.

(8) In music, a synonym for conductor (US use, now less common).

(9) A counsellor, confessor, or spiritual guide (now less common).

1470-1480: The construct was direct(us) + -or.  A borrowing in the sense of “a guide” from the Anglo French directour & the French directeur the agent noun from the Latin dirigere (set straight, arrange; give a particular direction to) and its source, the Late Latin directorem, from the Latin dīrectus, the perfect passive participle of dīrigō (straighten, direct), the construct being dis- (asunder, in pieces, apart, in two) + regō (to direct, to guide, keep straight; make straight; rule), from the primitive Indo-European root reg (move in a straight line).  The -or suffix was from the Middle English -our, from the Old French -eor, from the Latin -ātor and reinforced by the Old French -or and its source, the Latin -tor & -tōrem.  It was used to create an agent noun, often from a verb, indicating a person or object (often machines or parts of them) that do the verb or part of speech with which they are formed.  In electrical engineering it has the specific use of being appended to the names of members of classes of components, especially those that have an extensive property name of the same root suffixed with -ance (eg to convey the sense that resistors possess resistance and inductors possess inductance).  The alternative spelling directour became rare in the late eighteenth century and is long obsolete.  Director, directorate & directorship are nouns, directing is a verb, directed is a verb & adjective, directorial is an adjective and directorially is an adverb; the noun plural is directors.  The feminine forms of the noun (directress & directrix) were always rare and are now thought extinct (and by some probably proscribed).

Lindsay Lohan with Spanish fashion designer Estrella Arch (b 1974), on the catwalk, Emanuel Ungaro's Spring-Summer show, Paris, October 2009.  Ms Lohan was employed as a creative director at the House, founded in 1965 by French fashion designer Emanuel Ungaro (1933–2019).

The noun director (corporate sense of “one of a number of persons having authority to manage the affairs of a company” was known as early as the 1630s; the theatrical sense of “the leader of a company of performers” dates from 1911 and it was from here the use was picked up by those in charge of the artistic or technical aspects of movie-making.  The noun directorship (condition or office of a director) has been in use since the 1720s, the adjective directorial known since 1770.  The noun directorate was used first in 1834 of “a body of directors” and may immediately have be used individually of the “office of a director” but this was certainly first documented in 1837.  Director is a word defined both by its history of use (film director, director of football etc) and law (company director) so although titles like supervisor, head, manager, leader, administrator, chief, boss etc certainly implies “one who directs”, they’re traditionally not used as direct synonyms because “director” is a “loaded word”.  It’s also modified as needed (art director, managing director, sub-director etc).

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with "Mobile Director Package"; note the rearward facing front passenger seat.  

Although the brand had since the 1920s been used for some of Chrysler's more expensive lines, between 1955-1975, the corporation re-created Imperial as a separate, stand-alone division (albeit with some intra-corporate sharing of engines, transmissions and certain other components), the way Ford positioned Lincoln (GM's (General Motors) Cadillac then still with unique engines although much else was shared).  In the early years, the approach yielded some success (most notably with the dramatic 1957 models) but the separation didn’t survive the troubled decade of the 1970s (by which time the platform and body-shells were shared with the other divisions and much of the earlier distinctiveness had been surrendered); a couple of subsequent, half-heated, revivals proved abortive.

Bowing to economic reality, the Imperial in 1967-1968 had switched from the separate frame used since 1955 to the unitary construction of the full-sized ranges offered by other divisions but maintained a certain degree of difference by virtue of a unique body, albeit one with dimensions slightly reduced (not seen by all as a virtue at a time when things were again trending larger).  While styled with an elegance derived from its simplicity of line, the Imperial continued to not quite match the timeless modernity of the Lincoln or the indefinable but incomparable allure of the Cadillac and although sales did improve in 1967, volumes were only ever a fraction of its two competitors.  The basic engineering though was sound, the TorqueFlite 727 transmission as responsive and robust as any (although it didn’t quite slur as effortlessly between ratios as the Cadillac’s TH400 Turbo-Hydramatic 400) while the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 was a notch better, something the others wouldn’t match until 1968.  Significantly, reviewers at the time often were prepared to acknowledge the Imperial was the more capable road car although, given it operated in a market where quietness and isolation from the environment were afforded more of a premium than handling prowess, among potential buyers, any perception of real-world advantage probably was marginal.

The more stylish if less roadable opposition: 1967 Cadillac Coupe DeVille (left) & 1967 Lincoln Continental Coupe (right).

In those years however, the Imperial did offer something truly unique.  The “Mobile Director Package” was available exclusively on the Imperial Crown Coupe and reflected (within the limits of what the available technology would then permit) what Chrysler thought a company director would most value in an automobile being used as a kind of “office on the move”, including (1) an extendable walnut-topped table (secured to the floor by a stainless-steel stanchion) able to be unfolded over the rear seats, (2) a Tensor high-intensity lamp with a gooseneck mount enabling the light to be directed anywhere in the cabin and, most intriguingly (3) a front passenger seat mounted on swivelling base enabling it to rotate 180°, the apparatus permitting someone comfortably to use the table and interact with those in the rear.  Conveniently, in a sign of the times, the car was supplied with four cigarette lighters and the lamp could be plugged into whichever was closest to need.  The package was available only for those two seasons and in its first years cost US$597.40 (some US$6,000 adjusted for 2026 values) but only 81 buyers ticked the option box and even reducing the price the next season to US$317.60 did little to stimulate demand; only 70 ordered as a dismal swansong.  Even if the threat of new safety regulations hadn’t been looming, it’s doubtful the Mobile Director Package would have appeared on the option list for 1969 when the new “fuselage” Imperials debuted.

Imperial's advertising always emphasised the "business" aspect of the package but the corporation also circulated a photograph of the table supporting a (presumably magnetic) chessboard and another with silver compote holding a shiny red apple and a bunch of grapes, dangling seductively.  The latter may have been to suggest the utility of the package when stopping for a picnic with one's secretary; at an advertising agency, once someone suggested using the motif of "forbidden fruit", nobody would have been able to resist.

The advertising copy at the time claimed the package was “designed for the busy executive who must continue his work while he travels”, serving also as “an informal conference lounge”.  The Imperial was a big car (previous generations had been larger still) though “lounge” was a bit of a stretch but “truth in advertising” laws were then not quite as onerous as they would become.  More accurate were the engineering details, the table able to “pivot to any of four different positions, supported by a sturdy chrome-plated pillar and in the forward position, it can convert into a padded armrest between the two front seats while extended, it opens out to twice its original size with a lever on the table swivel support to permit adjustments to the height”.  It was noted “a special tool is used for removing the table and storing it in the trunk” the unstated implication presumably that in deference to the secretary’s finger-nails, that would be a task for one’s chauffeur.  The US$597.40 the option listed at in 1967 needs to be compared with the others available and only the most elaborate of the two AC (air conditioning) systems was more expensive.

Imperial option list, 1967.

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  Note seatbelt mounting point.

The publicity material associated with the Mobile Director Package did suggest the rearward-facing seat would likely be occupied by a director’s secretary and, as one might imagine, the configuration did preclude her (in 1967, secretaries almost always were women) using a seatbelt but she would always have been in arm’s reach of at least one cigarette lighter so there was that.  The (male) end of the front seatbelts sat on the sill panel, adjacent to the seat’s squab (back), a placement dictated by the need not to restrict access to the rear-compartment and that worked well for the standard coupe but, obviously, rendered the belt useless when the seat was rotated.  While Chrysler can be criticized for not providing rearward-facing secretaries with what’s now regarded as an essential safety feature, the rest of the US industry and legislatures (federal & state) were in 1967 little less cavalier.  While some state registration authorities had during the decade mandated the provision of seatbelts for front-seat passengers, no US jurisdiction then compelled their use.

The familiar modern three-point (lap & sash) seatbelt evolved in the late 1950s with much input from US designers but it was Swedish manufacturers that first made them universal (Scandinavia being often dark and icy, drivers sharing the roads with large elk).  The modern seatbelt design (conceptually unchanged to this day) is credited to Swedish mechanical engineer Nils Bohlin (1920–2002) who was employed by Volvo, the company making them a standard fitting in 1959, following the example of Saab that had added them the previous year.  During the 1960s, US states gradually imposed a requirement they be fitted until federal law mandated they be installed in all passenger vehicles produced after 1 January, 1968.  The laws requiring people actually to use the things proved more difficult to implement but other countries quickly made both fitment and use compulsory, initially only for those seated in the front but eventually this extended to all passengers.  Although examples existed early in the twentieth century (fitted often by those with experience in aviation) rudimentary seatbelts first appeared in US production cars during the 1950s but the manufacturers must have thought the public indifferent because their few gestures were tentative such as in 1956 when Ford had offered (as an extra-cost option) a bundle of safety features called the “Lifeguard Design” package that included:

(1) Padded dashboards (to reduce head injuries).

(2) Recessed steering wheel hub (to minimize chest injuries).

(3) Seat belts (front lap belts only)

(4) Stronger door latches (preventing doors flying open in a crash)

(5) Shatter-resistant rear-view mirror (reducing injuries caused by from broken glass).

In Western popular culture and advertising, there have been many friendly bears, including this one happily buckled-up with a “Ford seat belt. One third stronger than required for airliners.”

The standard features included (1) the Safety-Swivel Rear View Mirror, (2) the Deep-Center Steering Wheel with recessed post and bend-away spokes and (3) Double-Grip Door Latches with interlocking striker plate overlaps.  Optional at additional cost were (4) Seat Belts (single kit, front or rear, color-keyed, nylon-rayon with quick one-handed adjust/release aluminium buckle) (US$5).  There were also "bundles" (always popular in Detroit), “Safety Package A” consisting of a Padded Instrument Panel & Padded Sun Visors (US$18) while “Safety Package B” added to that Front-Seat Lap Seat Belts (US$27).  On the 1956 Thunderbird (with a significantly different interior design) the options were (1) the Lifeguard Padded Instrument Panel (US$22.65), (2) Lifeguard Padded Sun Visors (US$9) and (3) Lifeguard Seat Belts (US$14).

Years later, internal documents would be discovered revealing conflicts within the corporation, the marketing department opposed to any mention of "safety features" because that reminded potential customers of car crashes; they would prefer they focus on new colors, higher power outputs, sleek new lines and such.  So, with not much done to promote the “Lifeguard Design”, public demand was subdued and soon the option quietly was deleted.  At the time, apart from improving the quality of roads (resulting in higher average speeds with obvious implications) the government had done little about either safety or vehicle emissions but both the rising highway death toll and the worsening air quality in cities was attracting attention, meaning things would change, decades of legislation soon to unfold.  The first decisive step came as a provision in FMVSS 208 (Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 208) requiring all passenger cars manufactured from 1 January, 1968 onward be equipped with seatbelts at the designated seating positions though this was a federal manufacturing requirement, not a law requiring motorists to buckle up, something not imposed until 1984 when New York made their use mandatory, other states following the lead.

FMVSS emerged from the US NHSB (National Highway Safety Bureau (that in 1970 became the NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) under the newly created DOT (Department of Transportation), established by an act of Congress on 15 October, 1966 and beginning operation on 1 April, 1967).  That alphabet soup of activity in a field previously little explored by government came in the wake of the publication of Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) book Unsafe at any Speed (1965) documenting the flaws in the design and construction of US automobiles and industry’s indifference to the consequences.  Regulation ever since has been a growing industry, something emblematic of a theme in Western political culture since the end of World War II (1939-1945): The erosion of personal freedom in exchange for perceived (or dictated) benefits (in the case of the FMVSS, safer cars; other agencies gave us cleaner air).  All of this is fought out in various fora (legislatures, the streets, social media, Fox News etc); sometimes the state giveth, sometimes the state taketh away.

The profound recent shift in this mechanism is not the process but the participants: As “big tech” became dominant, that collective gave much to consumers who benefited from what appeared substantially to be “free” while surrendering much that was once by philosophers and political scientists thought precious but which clearly is regarded by many as an abstraction, the loss of which is a price worth paying for TikTok, Instagram, generative AI (artificial intelligence) and such.  In that, big tech’s model is essentially the same as that of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and that seems to have worked well so we should imagine, as the twenty-first century unfolds, we’ll get “more of the same”.  In political theory, what the social contract theorists at big tech are doing is right because we all have clicked on the boxes agreeing to their 30-plus pages of terms and conditions and have certified we have read and understood every clause.  The political process handling this societal overlay is neither static nor lineal; structurally it follows much the same pattern as earlier contests between power and individuals: As governments react to pressure groups by seeking to curb the worst of the consequences, fixes, work-arounds and obfuscations will interact with a flow of money into the coffers of governments, parties (and, now and again, pockets) in a way that will permit most of what big tech plans to do while giving the appearance things are being done to stop them doing at least some of what many people think they should stop doing.  To anyone who remembers the maneuvers and compromises that for more than a decade would flow around the best-laid plans of the NHTSA, it will all be familiar.

1968 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  The seatbelt (lap only) was now attached directly to the frame.

Imperial’s designers were compelled by the law to be more imaginative than most.  For the swivelling front seat in the 1968 cars, the seatbelt mounting points were integrated directly into the steel frame of the seat base itself, rather than the vehicle's floor pan.  To achieve the necessary strength, (using techniques borrowed from the seats in airliners), the engineers had both inboard and outboard lap-belt ends bolt directly to reinforced anchor points on the lower structural framing of the seat.  This made seat, mechanism and belts wholly self-contained (a la a military aircraft’s ejector-seat!) and permitted the 180^o swivel effect, belts rotating seamlessly with passenger.  Chrysler did however obtain from the authorities a partial-exemption.  While FMVSS 208 required front-seat shoulder belts, that would have been difficult to implement for the swivelling seat (not impossible because ejector-seats have frame-mounted shoulder-belts) so the restraint system was limited to the two-point lap-belt (admittedly an improvement over what she'd been provided in 1967: nothing).  Secretaries on the move presumably were grateful but the safety feature didn’t see sales improve, despite the slashing of the price.

1966 Chrysler 300X show car.

In 1966, the “swivelling seat thing” must have been exerting a powerful influence in Chrysler’s design offices because also shown that year was the 300X, based on a 300 Convertible (and despite the appended letter, a vehicle not in the tradition of the just-retired “letter series” 300s (1955-1965), the “X” believed a reference to eXperimental) and although mechanically unchanged, the cockpit was packed with “futuristic” ideas, some of which did eventually enter mainstream use (although the swivelling front seat remained one of history’s unwanted orphans).  Rather than a conventional steering wheel, the driver used handgrips and the “steering unit” included button controls for lights, wipers, turn signals, and door locks, enabling use of all functions with a finger or thumb, all the while keeping a both hands on the mechanism.  Door handles were replaced by a keypunch card used also for the ignition while a truck-lid mounted TV camera and monitor on the dashboard replaced the rear-view mirrors.  Rear-seat passengers (and the front-occupant when “swivelled”) were able to enjoy watching a small television, mounted on a bracket allowing it to be stowed away when not in use. Construction of the 300X was out-sourced to the prolific customizer and fabricator Roger Winfield (1927–2025) whose creations became well-known from their appearances in film and television including Blade Runner (1982) and Get Smart (1965-1970).  The 1965 Sunbeam “Tiger” be built for Get Smart was actually a visually almost identical Sunbeam Alpine, chosen because its compactfour-cylinder engine left sufficient under-hood space for the “special accessories” (including a retractable machine-gun) whereas the Tiger’s Ford V8 filled the space to the brim.  To solve the “aural deficit”, the distinctive burble of a Tiger’s V8 was added during the editing process.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

The most obvious thing that might puzzle those first seeing the Mobile Director Package is why it was available only in a two-door model when four-door coachwork would seem to make the configuration more obviously functional.  Had Imperial in 1967 sold several thousand of the things it’s at least possible Chrysler would for 1968 (or even mid-way through 1967) had extended availability but that would have been a more demanding process than it may appear, the existing swivelling mechanism unable to be used.  The difficulty was the four-door models (both sedan and hardtop) had respectively a full or partial B-pillar, the latter ending at the belt-line where the greenhouse begins, the structure required to provide a secure anchor point for the rear door's hinges.  The coupes used doors longer than front units on the four-door models, meaning the B-pillar sat further forward than the trailing-edge of the coupe’s door; there was thus a sufficient aperture for the seat to rotate when the coupe’s door was open but the gap would have been too narrow on the four-door cars.  So to offer the package in the four-door body it would have been a matter either of re-designing the doors or the swivelling seat and while the former would have been an expensive exercise (prohibitively so if the only justification was to accommodate a low-volume option), the seat and its base could have been re-engineered but after finding only 81 buyers in 1967 and 70 the next season, investment would have been hard to justify.

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1 (left) and 1959 Lancia Appia Series III (right).  Facel Vega produced France's finest cars of the post-war era but while undeniably glamourous, the flaws in the design of the Excellence's door-latches were never resolved and by the time the factory was shuttered in 1964, total Excellence production stood at 148 EX1s (Series One; 1958-1961) & 8 EX2s (Series Two; 1961-1964).  Lancia perfected pillar-free body engineering, using doors with sturdy window frames, permitting latch points at both sill and roof, the configuration offered on a number of sedans including the Ardea (1939-1953), Aurelia (1950-1958) & Appia (1953-1963).  The locking mechanism was intricate but the engineering was simple and proved reliable.  It's sad the company's later attachment to FWD (front wheel drive) ultimately doomed Lancia because in every other aspect of engineering, few others were as adept at producing such fine small-displacement vehicles.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

Ford's 1969 Aurora II Concept Car gave an indication of quite what what would have been required to make the Mobile Director Package conveniently functional on the platform of what was then the standard "full-size" four-door US automobile.  The "wrap-around" rear seat was an idea borrowed from the Ford Thunderbird, contemporary reviewers praising the visual impact but noting that as something for humans to sit on it was less comfortable than a conventional design; in the Aurora it probably worked better and certainly lent the cabin the desired "lounge-room" vibe.  The problem of providing (1) space for the seat to swivel and (2) allowing elegant ingress & egress was of course afforded by the the four doors (in "suicide" configuration) and elimination of the B-pillar.  That combination provided unprecedented ease of accessibility but its doubtful it could successfully have been implemented in series-production.  The French concern had earlier tried the approach with their Excellence model but, despite retaining a vestigial hump where a B-pillar would have attached to the sill, the company never solved the problem of the door-locking apparatus "springing open" while the car was in motion, usually when the mechanism was subject to lateral forces such as when cornering.  Because these forces could be exerted at high-speed, having doors suddenly "flying open" was an obvious safety concern.  Lancia in the 1950s solved the problem of doing without a fixed central pillar buy using doors with conventional, full-height frames, thereby enabling locking mechanisms to be fitted top & bottom.  Curiously, the Aurora was based on the LTD Country Squire that came only with fully-framed doors so Lancia's approach could have been adopted but there's no indication Ford ever contemplated series-production, the "concept car" created just to generate interest on the show circuit.

1967 Imperial Crown Convertible (with subsequently added Mobile Direct Package).

Imperial over two seasons might have managed to sell only 151 of the Mobile Director Packages but one owner of a 1967 Crown Convertible was so smitten they cannibalized a coupe to create a unique (if wholly fake) "convertible Mobile Director".  Exactly emulating what the factory did would not have been as simple as it may appear because the floor under the passengers swivelling seat needed to be strengthened with additional bracing and a "baffle" was welded to the transmission tunnel where the table's stainless-steel stanchion was attached (off-set to the driver's side to avoid the drive-shaft).  Although apparently as significantly pointless as the original, it's a novelty that would attract interest at events like "cars & coffee" and may even be more functional in that it would seem an ideal place comfortably to sit and enjoy one's picnic while watching something like polo (on the model of the way the Country Life set re-purpose the tailgates on their Range Rovers).  That said, had the factory in 1967-1968 made the package available on the convertible, almost certainly it would have been just as unsuccessful as the coupe. 

Stewart-Warner's desk-based DataFax (circa 1958).  The process of miniaturization in electronics was by 1966 still embryonic but enough shrinkage had been attained to make a fax fit in Imperial's show car.  Unlike fax machines, the pencil skirt never goes out of style.

The specification of Chrysler's package as it appeared in showrooms for the 1967 season was actually modest compared with the “Mobile Executive” car the corporation sent around the show circuit a year earlier; that Imperial had been fitted with a telephone, Dictaphone, writing table, fax machine, reading lamp and stereophonic sound system; a typewriter and portable television also used in many displays although neither were "fitted".  Also a Crown Coupe, the 1966 show car was much more ambitious, anticipating advances in mobile communications that would emerge over the next quarter-century.  At the time, car phones were available (the first service in the US offered in certain cities in 1946) but they were expensive and the nature of the bandwidth, combined with a lack of data compression, meant the range was limited as was capacity, only several dozen calls able simultaneously to be sustained.  In the 1966 car, there had even been the novelty of a Stewart-Warner Datafax, able to send or receive a US Letter-sized (slightly smaller than A4) page of text in six minutes.  That sounds unimpressive in the 2020s (or compared even with the 14.4 kbit/s for Group 3 FaxStream services of the 1990s) but the appropriate comparison is with the contemporary alternatives (driving, walking, a courier, or using the US Mail) and six minutes would have been a considerable advance.  While more expensive than a stamp and envelope, for the target market the costs would anyway have been a legitimate business expense and thus "a deductible".  As it was, the tempting equipment awaited improvements in infrastructure such as the analogue networks of the 1980s and later cellular roll-outs, these technologies contributing to an extent of use delivering economies of scale that eventually would make possible the smartphone.

The 1966 car that toured the show circuit demonstrated the concept which, in simplified form, would the next year appear on the option list but things like telephones and fax machines anticipated the future by many years (although fax machines in cars (Audi and Toyota among the handful to offer them) never became a thing).  The Dictaphone did however make the list as one of Chrysler's RPOs (regular production options) in the early 1970s and the take-up rate was surprisingly high although the fad quickly passed, dealers reporting the customers saying the hardware worked well but they "never used them".  In the collector community, a surviving Dictaphone in something like a Plymouth 'Cuda is a minor attraction; while not increasing value as would something like and original Hemi V8, it is a legitimate "period piece".

Glovebox-mounted fax machine in 1995 Toyota Celsior (the JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) Lexus LS).

The problem with the scaled-down Datafax was even had it been possible to produce the things at a manageable cost, in 1966 the solid-state electronics that would have made the thing reliable when subject to constant vibration and jolts were still years away (Chrysler’s Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection in 1958 had fewer moving parts and that didn’t end well).  However, even if reliability could have been "engineered in", there is no guarantee demand would have existed whatever the price-point.  In the 1990s, despite it being installed with Toyota’s typical neatness and attention to detail, there were few buyers for the "fax machine in the glovebox" and if the notion was going to catch on anywhere, it would have been in that nation of early adopters.  While there were many features in the 1966 300X truly that were "ahead of their time", the Mobile Direct Package was a genuine cul-de-sac, at least as implemented in a conventionally sized car (and certainly a two-door coupe).  In 1966, rearward-facing seats had for some years been seen in the "vis-à-vis" arrangement used in some LWB (long wheelbase) limousines and as child-seats in the rear-most compartments of station wagons but those seats had been either fixed or folding and although the Ford Aurora II presumably dazzled a few impressionable souls, the industry showed little inclination to follow Chrysler's swivelling lead.

2021 "Maybach-Look" Mercedes-Benz Metris.  The passenger compartment is a similar configuration as the 1966-1967 Imperials (two forward facing seats, two rearward ("fold-away" rather than swivelling)) and there were folding tables as well as features unimaginable in the 1960s (seat massage, starlight-pattern headliner, flatscreen TV, internet connectivity, touchscreen infotainment system and a Burmester sound system with subwoofers).  Unfortunately, a fax machine wasn't part of the build but by 2021, they were close to extinct even in bricks & mortar offices.   

Flawed though Chrysler's implementation in 1966-1967 may have been, in the twenty-first century, production-line economics made it possible to realise the concept's implications, "big-box" vans able to be outfitted as genuinely functional mobile offices from which communication can be maintained with just about any part of the planet.  Of course, based on the same body used by plumbers, Amazon delivery drivers and such, the Metris doesn't have quite the gravitas of the Mercedes-Benz 600 Grossers of old (it's debatable whether the faux "Maybach-Look" stuff makes things better or worse) but there's more interior space and room for a big-screen TV so it's all a matter of what one wants from life.  Noting that, some operations have fitted-out interiors as offices or luxury transports which eschewing the exterior bling, some (often wisely) preferring to travel as inconspicuously as possible.