Equiluminant

Equiluminant (pronounced ee-kwuh-loom-uh-nuhnt)

(1) In optics, the quality of two or more objects or phenomenon being equally luminant.

(2) Figuratively, two or more people being judged equally illustrious, attractive, talented etc.

1860s: The construct was equi- +‎ luminant.  As an adjective, luminant means "that which illuminates; that which is luminous" while as a noun it describes "an illuminating agent".  Luminant was from the Latin verb lūminant, the third-person plural present active indicative of lūminō, the construct being lūmen, from the Proto-Italic louksmən, from the primitive Indo-European léwk-s-mn̥, from the root lewk- (bright) +‎ -ō (appended to form agent nouns).  The accepted synonym is isoluminant and equiluminescent is the alternative form.  When used figuratively, although it would make no sense in science, the comparative is “more equiluminant” and the superlative most “equiluminant”.  Equiluminant & equiluminescent are adjectives and equiluminance is a noun; the noun plural is equiluminances (which some list as non-standard).

The prefixes: equi-, homo-, peri- & iso-

The prefixes “equi-”, “homo-”, “peri-” & “iso-” are all used to in same way suggest a concept of sameness or equality, but by tradition and convention, are used in different contexts to produce different meanings or emphasis:  Equi- is used to indicate equality, evenness, or uniformity and is often seen in mathematical, scientific & technical publications to describe something is equal in measure or evenly distributed such as equilateral (a shape having all sides of equal length, equidistant (being at equal distances from two or more points) & equilibrium (a state of balance where opposing forces or influences are equal).  Homo- is used to imply “same” or “alike” and thus sameness or (sometimes by degree) similarity.  In technical use it is a standard form in biology, chemistry & the social sciences to indicate sameness in kind, structure, or composition and by far the most common modern use is in the now familiar “homosexual” which in many jurisdictions is now a proscribed (or at least discouraged) term because of negative associations (“homo” as a stand-alone word also having evolved as a slur used of, about or against homosexual men).

The uses of the prefix are illustrated by homogeneous (composed of parts or elements that are all of the same kind, homologous (having the same relation, relative position, or structure) & homonym (in linguistics words which sound the same or are spelled the same but have different meanings).  Iso- is used to denote equality, uniformity, or constancy in terms of specific characteristics like size, number, or configuration and is most used in scientific and mathematical publications.  Examples of use include isometric (having equal dimensions or measurements, isothermal (having constant temperature) & isosceles (having two sides of equal length).  Peri- is used to denote “surrounding or enclosing”, or “something near or around a specific area or object”, examples including perimeter (the continuous line forming the boundary of a closed geometric figure), periscope (an optical instrument for viewing objects that are above the level of direct sight, using mirrors or prisms to reflect the view & peripheral (relating to or situated on the edge or periphery of something.  So equi-focuses on equality in measure, distance, or value, homo- focuses on sameness in kind, structure, or composition, iso- focuses on equality or uniformity in specific characteristics or conditions while peri- :focuses on surrounding or enclosing, or being near or around something.  For most purposes equi- & iso- can be used interchangeably and which is used tends to be a function of tradition & convention.

Equiluminant colors

An example the equiluminant in blue & orange.  In color the text appears at the edges to "shimmer" or "vibrate".  When re-rendered in grayscale, because the value of the luminance is so close, the two shades become almost indistinguishable.

In optics, “equiluminant” is a technical term used to colors with the same (or very similar) luminance (brightness) but which differ in hue (color) or saturation (intensity).  The standard test for the quality is to convert a two-color image to grayscale and, if equiluminant, the colors would appear nearly indistinguishable because they share the same level of “lightness”.  It’s of some importance in fields as diverse as military camouflage, interior decorating, fashion, astronomy and cognitive psychology.  In the study of visual perception, when colors are equiluminant, the human visual system relies primarily on the differences in hue and saturation (rather than brightness) to distinguish between them and this can create challenges in perception; in many cases, the brain will struggle to segregate colors based solely on luminance; essentially, there is a lack of information.

An enigmatic abstraction (2024) by an unknown creator.  This is an example of the use of non-equiluminant shades of orange & blue, the original to the left, copy rendered in gray-scale to the right.

In art and design, the quality of equiluminance can be exploited to create visual effects, the perception of some “shimmering” or “vibrating” at the edges where colors meet actually a product of the way the different hues are perceived by the brain to be “less defined” (a process not dissimilar to the “grayscaling”) and thus “dynamic”, lending the impression of movement even in a static image, especially if seen with one’s peripheral vision.  While a handy device for visual artists, it can be something of some significance because the close conjunction of equiluminant colors can make certain visual tasks more difficult, most obviously reading text or distinguishing shapes and objects.  All that happens is the extent of the luminance contrast can create a perception of fuzziness at the edges of shapes which means some people can suffer a diminished ability to distinguish fine details and the smaller the object (text, numerals or geometric shape), the more acute the problem.  The phenomenon has been well researched, scientists using the properties in equiluminant colors to study how the brain processes color and the findings have been important in fields like instrumentation and the production of warning signs.

Richard Petty's 1974 NASCAR (National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing) Dodge Charger (left) and 3 ton Super-Duty Jack, produced under licence by the Northern Tool Company (right).

1974 was the last year in which the big-block engines were allowed to run in NASCAR and the big-block era (1962-1973) was NASCAR's golden age.  Richard Petty (b 1937) used a "reddish orange" to augment his traditional blue when he switched from Plymouth to Dodge as the supplier of his NASCAR stockers in the early 1970s.  His team was actually sponsored by STP rather than Gulf and STP wanted their corporate red to be used but in the end a "reddish orange" compromise was negotiated.  However, when he licenced the Northern Tool Company to sell a "Richard Petty" jack, the shade used appeared to be closer to the classic "Gulf orange".

Sexy Lamborghinis in a not quite equiluminant color combination following those of the Gulf Western racing teams: 1964 1C TL tractor (top) and 1968 1R tractor (bottom).

Lamborghini had been making tractors and other farm equipment since 1948 when first its track-drive models appeared in 1955, the 1C-TL produced between 1962-1966.  Unrelated to that model cycle, it was in 1966 Lamborghini unveiled the sensational Miura (1966-1973), powered by a transversely located, mid-mounted, 3,929 cm³ (240 cubic inch) V12 engine which sucked prodigious quantities of gas (petrol) through four triple throat downdraft Weber carburetors, each of which was needed to satiate the thirst.  The power was sent to the road via a five-speed transaxle which shared it's lubrication with the engine (shades of the BMC Mini (1959-2000) which turned out to be a bad idea and one not corrected until the final run as the Miura SV (1971-1973).  To achieve the stunning lines, mounting the V12 transversely was the only way to make things fit and the engineering was a masterpiece of packaging efficiency but it resulted in the car displaying some curious characteristics at high speed.  The specification of the 1C TL Tractor was more modest although quite appropriate for its purpose; it was powered by an air-cooled 1,462 cm³ (89 cubic inch) which delivered power to the rear portal axle and drive sprockets via a dual-range, three-speed manual transmission.  However, being a diesel, there was of course fuel-injection (by Bosch), an advance Lamborghini's V12s didn’t receive until 1985 when US emission-control regulations compelled the change.  This version of 1R tractor is known as the cofano squadrato (squared hood (bonnet)); produced between 1966-1969, it replaced the earlier 1R (1961-1965) which featured a rounded hood.  The earlier model seems not retrospectively to have been christened but presumably it would have been the cofano arrotondato (rounded hood), proving everything sounds better in Italian.  An Italian could read from a lawnmower repair manual and it would sound poetic.

As everybody knows, in Mean Girls (2004), there's an example or reference point for just about every known sociological, zoological, linguistic, political, scientific, botanical, geological or cosmological phenomenon yet observed.  Here, Lindsay Lohan in baby pink and powder blue illustrates an instance of equiluminance.

At scale, equiluminance doesn’t have to be obvious for it still to have desirable “side effects” and while it’s often noted two specific hues ((1) the blue Llewellyn Rylands pigments 3707 (Zenith Blue, replicated by Dulux as “Powder Blue”) & (2) the orange Rylands pigments 3957 (Tangerine, replicated by Dulux as “Marigold”)), that their use in combination appears so often on cars, motor-cycles and other stuff with wheels is due less to the claim the shades seem at the edge to “vibrate” that the striking combination appearing on some of the Gulf Oil sponsored Ford GT40s and Porsche 917s during sports car racing’s golden era (1950-1972).  Given the surface area involved, the effect is probably imperceptible when viewed at close range but the science does suggest that at speed (and these were fast machines), at the typical viewing range found on racetracks, there was what the optical analysts call “visual pop”, something which heightens the brain’s perception of motion.

Ford GT40 chassis# 1075, winner of the 1968 & 1969 Mans 24 hour endurance classic in Gulf racing livery.

Gulf's colors were not equiluminescent.  The company's original "corporate color scheme" had been a dark blue & orange combo but Gulf was an acquisitive conglomerate and in late 1967 it took over the Wilshire Oil Company of California, the signature colors of which were powder blue and orange, something which Gulf’s management thought “more exciting” and better suited to a racing car.  The change was made for the 1968 season with the Fords now running as five-litre (305 cubic inch) sports cars, governing body having banned the seven-litre engines the cars previously had used (under a variety of names, motorsport has for decades been governed by some of world sport’s dopiest regulatory bodies).  In the Gulf colors, fitted with 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) engines, Ford GT40 Mark I (chassis #1075) won the Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic in 1968 & 1969 (repeating the brace Ford had achieved with the 7.0 litre (427 cubic inch) Mark II & Mark IV versions in 1966-1967), the first time the same car had achieved victory twice.  In 1968, #1075 won the BOAC International 500, the Spa 1000-kilometer race, and the Watkins Glen 6-hour endurance race, while in 1969 it also took the Sebring 12-hour race, a remarkable achievement for a race car thought obsolescent.  The livery has since been much replicated, including on many machines which have never been near a race track.

1971 Porsche 917K in Gulf Racing livery.  The fins were added to improve straight-line stability and were strikingly similar to those which appeared on some late 1950s US Chryslers although the aerodynamic properties of those were dubious, despite corporate claims.

Interestingly, the team painting the GT40s were aware of the issue created by equiluminant colors and knew that when photographed in certain conditions, the shades could tend thus.  As a matter of professional pride, they didn’t want it thought they’d created something with “fuzzy edges” so deliberately was added a dark blue hairline-border around the orange, reducing the optical illusion to ensure that when photographed, everything looked painted with precision.  When the Gulf team in 1970 switched to using Porsche 917s for the World Sports Car championship, they adopted the expedient of a black line of definition between the blue & orange so the whole enduring appeal of the combination lies just in the striking contrast and relies not at all on any tendency to the equiluminant.

Ford GT Heritage Edition First Generation (left) and Second Generation (right). 

Little more than 100 GT40s were built but Ford noted with interest the ongoing buoyancy of the replica market, as many as 2,000 thought to have been built in a number of countries (although that's dwarfed by number of replica Shelby American Cobras; it's believed there are 50-60,000-odd of them, a remarkable tribute to the 998 originals).  In the twenty-first century, the company decided to reprise the design but the new GT (2004-2006) was hardly a clone and although it shared the basic mechanical layout and the shape (though larger) was close, it was a modern machine.  The car wasn’t called GT40 because the rights to the name had ended up with another company and Ford declined to pay the demanded price.  Over 4000 were built and one special run was a tribute to the 1968-1969 cars in Gulf livery, 343 of the “Heritage Editions” produced.  A second generation of GTs was produced between 2016-2022 and was very modern, the demands of the wind-tunnel this time allowed to prevail over paying tribute to the classic lines of the 1960s.  Although the supercharged 5.4 litre V8 didn’t return and the new car used a turbocharged 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V6, it outperformed all its predecessors over the last 60-odd years (all the original GT40 chassis built between 1964-1969) including the 427 cubic inch monsters that won at Le Mans in 1966 & 1967 so it took decades, but eventually there really was a "replacement for displacement".  The V6 also was used also in pick-up trucks which doesn't sound encouraging but versions of the small & big block V8s used in the GT40s also saw similar service, the latter even first appearing in the doomed Edsel.  Production of the second generation was limited to 1350 units, 50 of which were “Heritage Editions” in the Gulf colors, one of several “limited editions”.

Thunk

Thunk (pronounced thunk)

(1) Onomatopoeic slang for sounds (such as the impressive thud when the doors close on pre-modern Mercedes-Benz), representing the dull sound of the impact of a heavy object striking another and coming to an immediate standstill, with neither object being broken by the impact.

(2) In computer programming, a delayed computation (known also as a closure routine.

(3) In computing, in the Scheme programming language, a function or procedure taking no arguments.

(4) In computing, a specialized subroutine in operating systems where one software module is used to execute code in another or inject an additional calculation into another subroutine; a mapping of machine data from one system-specific form to another, usually for compatibility reasons, to allow a 16-bit program to run on a 32-bit operating system.

(5) In computing, to execute code by means of a thunk.

(6) As “get thunked” or “go thunk yourself”, an affectionate insult among the nerdiest of programmers.

(7) In colloquial use, a past tense form of think (the standard form being "thought").  Usually it's used humorously but, if erroneous, it's polite not to correct the mistake.

1876: The first documented instance as incorrect English is from 1876 but doubtlessly it had been used before and there’s speculation it may have be a dialectical form in one or more places before dying out.  There being no oral records and with nothing in writing prior to 1876, the history is unknown.  As an echoic of the sound of impact, it’s attested from 1952.  Although occasionally heard in jocular form, except in computing, thunk is non-standard English, used as a past tense or past participle of think.  The mistake is understandable given the existence of drink/drunk, sink/sunk etc so perhaps it’s a shame (like brung from bring) that it’s not a standard form except in computing.  The plural is thunks, the present participle thunking and the simple past and past participle thunked.  The numerical value of thunk in Chaldean Numerology is 4; the value in Pythagorean Numerology is 2.  Thunk & thunking are nouns & verbs, thunker is a noun and thunked is a verb; the noun plural is thunks.  The adjective thunkish is non-standard but is used in engineering and programming circles.

Getting thunked

The origin of the word to describe a number of variations of tricks in programming is contested, the earliest dating from 1961 as onomatopoeic abstractions of computer programming.  One holds a thunk is the (virtual) sound of data hitting the stack (some say hitting the accumulator).  Another suggestion is that it’s the sound of the expression being unfrozen at argument-evaluation time. The most inventive in that it was said to have been coined during an after-midnight programming session when it was realized a type of an argument in Algol 60 could be figured out in advance with a little compile-time thought, simplifying the evaluation machinery.  In other words, it had "already been thought of"; thus it was christened a "thunk", which is “the past tense of ‘think’ at two in the morning when most good programming is done on a diet of Coca-Cola and pizza”.

Door closing on 1967 Mercedes-Benz 230 S.  Until the 1990s, the quality of even the low-end Mercedes-Benz models was outstanding and the doors closed with a satisfying thunk.

Thunking as a programming concept does seem to have been invented in 1961 as “a chunk of code which provides an address”, a way of binding parameters to their formal definitions in procedure calls.  If a procedure is called with an expression in the place of a formal parameter, the compiler generates a thunk which computes the expression and leaves the address of the result in some standard location.  It usefulness was such it was soon generalised into: an expression, frozen with its environment for later evaluation if and when needed (that point being the closure), the process of unfreezing thunks called forcing.  As operating systems evolved into overlay-rich environments, the thunk became a vital stub-routine to load and jump to the correct overlay, Microsoft and IBM both defining the mapping of the 16-bit Intel environment with segment registers and 64K address limits whereas 32 & 64-bit systems had flat addressing and semi-real memory management.  Thunking permits multiple environments to run on the same computer and operating system and to achieve this, there’s the universal thunk, the generic thunk and the flat thunk, the fine distinctions of which only programmers get.  In another example of nerd humor, a person can be said to have their activities scheduled in a thunk-like manner, the idea being they need “frequently to be forced to completion”, especially if the task is boring.

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

So it’s a bit nerdy but modern operating systems need thunking because 8, 16, 32 and 64-bit routines can need to run both concurrently and interactively on the same machine (real or virtual).  If a 32-bit application sends something with precision data types to a 64-bit handler, without thunking, the call will fail because the precise address can’t be resolved.  Although not literally true, it’s easiest to visualise thunking as a translation layer.

IBM OS/2 2.0 in shrink-wrap, 1992.

Thunking first entered consumer computing at scale with IBM’s OS/2 in 1987, an operating system still in surprisingly wide use and supported by IBM until early in the century.  Interestingly, although both OS/2 (and its successor eCom) have been unavailable for years, in August 2017, a private project released ArcaOS, an x86 operating system derived from OS/2 and, for personal use, it retails at US$129.00.  Like OS/2, it has some features which are truly unique such as, for the handful of souls on the planet who either need or wish simultaneously to run multiple 8, 16 and 32-bit text-mode sessions, (including those internally booting different operating systems in segregated memory) in their hundreds on the one physical machine.  First done in 1992 on OS/2 2.0, it’s still quite a trick and the on-line OS/2 Museum hosts an active community, development continuing.

Acersecomic

Acersecomic (pronounced a-sir-suh-kome-ick)

A person whose hair has never been cut.

1623: From the Classical Latin acersecomēs (a long-haired youth) the word borrowed from the earlier Ancient Greek form ἀκερσεκόµης (with unshorn hair), constructed from komē (the hair of the head (the source of the –comic)) + keirein (to cut short) + the prefix a- (not; without).  The Latin acersecomēs wasn’t a term of derision or disapprobation, merely descriptive, it being common for Roman and Greek youth to wear their hair long until manhood.  Acersecomic appeared in English dictionaries as early as 1656, the second instance noted some 30 years later.  Although of dubious linguistic utility even in seventeenth century English, such entries weren’t uncommon in early English dictionaries as editors trawled through lists of words from antiquity to conjure up something, there being some marketing advantage in being the edition with the most words.  It exists now in a lexicographical twilight zone, its only apparent purpose being to appear as an example of a useless word.  The -comic element of the word is interesting.  It’s from the Ancient Greek komē in one of the senses of coma: a diffuse cloud of gas and dust that surrounds the nucleus of a comet.  From antiquity thus comes the sense of long, flowing hair summoning an image of the comet’s trail in the sky.  The same -comic ending turns up in two terms that are probably more obscure even than acersecomic: acrocomic (having hair at the tip, as in a goat’s beard (acro- translates as “tip”) and xanthocomic (a person with yellow hair), from the Greek xanthos (yellow).  Acersecomic & acersecomism are nouns and acersecomically is an adverb; the noun plural is acersecomics.

Lindsay Lohan as Rapunzel, The Real Housewives of Disney, Saturday Night Live (SNL), 2012.

Intriguingly, even if someone is acersecomic, that does not of necessity mean they will have really long hair.  As explained by Healthline, there are four stages in hair-growth: (1) Growing phase, (2) Transition phase, (3) Resting phase and (4) Shedding phase; the first three phases (anagen, catagen & telogen) encompass the growth & maturation of hair and the activity of the hair follicles that produce individual hairs while during the final (exogen), the “old” hair sheds and, usually, a new hair is getting ready to take its place.  Each phase has its own dynamics but the behavior can be affected by age, nutrition and health conditions.

A possible acersecomic although there is some evidence of at least the odd trim.  This od one of the less confronting images at People of Walmart which documents certain aspects of the American socio-economic experience in the social media age.  Users seem divided whether People of Walmart is a celebration of DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion), a chronicle of decadence or a condemnation of deviance.

The anagen phase has the longest duration but is variable depending on the location of the follicles; the hair on one’s scalp has the longest anagen and it can last anywhere between 2-8 years.  During the anagen, the follicles “push out” hairs that will continue to grow until they’re cut or reach the end of their life span and fall out.  Over the population, typically, at any moment, as many as 90% of the hairs on the scalp will be in the anagen phase.  Trichologists (those who study the hair or scalp) list the catagen as the “transitional stage” because it lasts only some two weeks, during which follicles shrink and hair growth slows; it’s in this process the hair separates from the bottom of the hair follicle yet remains in place during the final days of growth.  At any point, no more than 3% of the hairs on the scalp will be in the catagen.  The telogen, lasting 2-3 months is called the “resting stage” and gains the description from the affected (some 10%) hairs not growing but nor do they tend to fall out and it’s at this point new hairs begin to form in follicles that have just released hairs during the catagen.  Historically, the exogen (shedding stage) was regarded as the later element of the telogen but the modern practice in trichology is to list it as the fourth stanza in the cycle.  Didactically, that does make sense although technically, the exogen is an extension of the telogen, being the point at which hair is shed from the scalp, the volume affected by washing, brushing and even the wearing of tightly fitted headwear.  Losing as many as 100 hairs per day is typical and the exogen can least several months, new hairs growing in the follicles as old fall away.

Genuinely, 15 year old Skye Merchant was acersecomic until July 2021 when she had her first haircut, part of her fund-raising efforts for cancer research.  The trimmed locks were donated to perruquiers (wigmakers) making wigs for cancer patients who'd lost their hair as a result of undergoing chemotherapy.

What all that means is that whether or not acersecomic, the maximum length one’s hair can attain is determined wholly by one’s genetics; in other words, its determined well before birth and while it’s possible to increase the rate of growth by attention to nutrition and maintaining a “healthy lifestyle”, nothing can (yet) change one’s DNA and that means some can grow hair to their ankles while for others it will never extend beyond the shoulders. While, all else being equal, the state of one’s hair depends on genetics and hormone levels (mechanisms largely locked in before birth), trichologists recommend (1) maintaining protein intake (hair being composed largely of protein), (2) ensuring nutriant intake is at the recommended daily level (vitamin D, vitamin C, vitamin B12, zinc, folic acid most associated with hair growth although iron is especially important for women) and (3) reducing physical and mental stress, something sometimes easier said than done.  There are also a variety of medical conditions which can affect hair including a misbehaving immune system but in mental health the two most documented are trichotillomania (an irresistible urge to pull hairs from the follicles) and the pica (a disorder characterized by craving and appetite for non-edible substances, such as ice, clay, chalk, dirt, or sand and named for the jay or magpie (pīca in Latin), based on the idea the birds will eat almost anything) trichophagia (the compulsion to eat hair, wool, and other fibres).  A noted feature of the fifth edition of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5 (2013)), was the more systematic approach taken to eating disorders, variable definitional criteria being defined for the range of behaviours within that general rubric.

Suspected acersecomic, US suffragist and women's rights activist Maud Wood Park (1871–1955), photographed circa 1896 (the subject thus in her mid-twenties) in the studio of Frank W. Legg, at 18 Montvale Avenue, Woburn, Massachusetts.

These prints in sepia were mounted in a cardboard surround called a “cabinet card”, a popular format for commercial photographers which had first gone on sale in the mid-nineteenth century.  Because the cardboard was effective in protecting the photograph from damage, many cabinet cards have survived in museums or private collections and they’re an interesting part of the historic record, representing the way the middle-class wished to be presented.  In the Victorian era (1837-1901), long, luxuriant hair was valued as a symbol of feminine beauty and not until the 1920s did shorter styles become truly popular.  These images are untypical of the genre because the hair is unbound whereas most were photographed with their tresses restrained in the way stereotypically it’s imagined Victorian women were compelled to adopt; she was after all a proto-feminist and, as it would be for decades afterwards, hair could be a symbol of defiance against social convention.  Many of the surviving cabinet cards are the work of the obviously prolific Mr Legg and the site of his studio in Woburn, Massachusetts is now the Woburn Bowladrome which, off and on, has operated since 1940 although there’s now a large “JESUS” painted on the roof, presumably a recent addition by an owner or perhaps the hand of God.  Now again under new management, the Woburn Bowladrome hosts Candlepin, a variant of ten-pin bowling most popular in the Canadian maritime regions and the north-east of the US.  The game uses tall, narrow pins and a small, palm-sized ball with a scoring system allowing players three chances per frame to knock down all ten pins with the fallen pins remaining on the lane to be used in subsequent shots within the active frame.

In recent interviews, Russian model and singer Olga Naumova didn't make clear if she was truly an acersecomic but did reveal that in infancy her hair was so thin her parents covered her head, usually with a "babushka" headscarf (ie the style typically associated with Russian grandmothers).  It's obviously since flourished and her luxuriant locks are now 62 inches (1.57 m) long, a distinctive feature she says attracts (1) requests for selfies, (2) compliments, (3) propositions decent & otherwise, (4) public applause (in Thailand), (5) requests for technical advice (usually from women asking about shampoo, conditioner & other product) while (6) on-line, men sometimes suggest marriage, often by the expedient of elopement.

Olga Naumova and hair in motion.

Perhaps surprisingly, the Moscow-based model says she doesn't do "anything extraordinary" to maintain her mane beyond shampoo, conditioner and the odd oil treatment, adding the impressive length and volume she attributes wholly to the roll of the genetic dice.  Her plaits and braids are an impressive sight and their creation can take over two hours, depending on their number and intricacy.  She did admit she wears the "snatched high ponytail" made famous by the singer Ariana Grande (b 1993) only briefly for photo-shoots because the weight of her hair makes it "too painful" to long endure.

Greta Thunberg: BB (before-bob) and AB (after-bob).

What's not clear is whether, in the age of global warming, acersecomism will remain socially acceptable and Greta Thunberg (b 2003), something of a benchmark for environmental consciousness, in 2025 opted for a bob (one straddling chin & shoulder-length).  Having gained fame as a weather forecaster, the switch to shorter hair appears to have coincided with her branching out from environmental activism to political direct action in the Middle East.  While there's no doubt she means well, it’s something that will end badly because while the matter of greenhouse gasses in the atmospheric can (over centuries) be fixed, some problems are insoluble and the road to the Middle East is paved six-feet deep with good intentions.  Ms Thunberg seems not to have discussed why she got a bob (and how she made her daily choice of "one braid or two" also remained mysterious) but her braids were very long and she may have thought them excessive and contributing to climate change.  While the effect individually would be slight, over the entire population there would be environmental benefits if all those with long hair got a bob because: (1) use of shampoo & conditioner would be lowered (reduced production of chemicals & plastics), (2) a reduction in water use (washing the hair and rinsing out all that product uses much), (3) reduced electricity use (hair dryers, styling wands & straighteners would be employed for a shorter duration) and (4) carbon emissions would drop because fewer containers of shampoo & conditioner would be shipped or otherwise transported.

Curious

Curious (pronounced kyoor-ee-uhs)

(1) Eager to learn or know; inquisitive; interested, inquiring

(2) Prying; meddlesome, overly inquisitive.

(3) Arousing or exciting speculation, interest, or attention through being inexplicable or highly unusual; odd; strange.

(4) Made or prepared skilfully (archaic).

(5) Done with painstaking accuracy or attention to detail (archaic).

(6) Careful; fastidious (archaic).

(7) Marked by intricacy or subtlety (archaic).

(8) In inorganic chemistry, containing or pertaining to trivalent curium (rare).

1275–1325: From the Middle English curious, from the Old French curius (solicitous, anxious, inquisitive; odd, strange (which endures in Modern French as curieux)), from the Latin cūriōsus (careful, diligent; inquiring eagerly, meddlesome, inquisitive), the construct being cūri- (a combining form of cūra (care) + -ōsus .  The –ōsus suffix (familiar in English as –ous) was from Classical Latin from -ōnt-to-s from -o-wont-to-s, the latter form a combination of two primitive Indo-European suffixes: -went & -wont.  Related to these were –entus and the Ancient Greek -εις (-eis) and all were used to form adjectives from nouns.  In Latin, -ōsus was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  The English word was cognate with Italian curioso, the Occitan curios, the Portuguese curioso and the Spanish curioso.  The original sense in the early fourteenth century appears to have been “subtle, sophisticated” but by the late 1300s this had been augmented by “eager to know, inquisitive, desirous of seeing” (often in a bad (ie “busybody”) sense and also “wrought with or requiring care and art”, all these meaning reflecting the Latin original.  The objective sense of “exciting curiosity” was in use by at least 1715 but in booksellers' catalogues of the mid-nineteenth century, the word was a euphemism for “erotic, pornographic”, such material called curiosa the Latin neuter plural of cūriōsus.  That was not however what was in the mind of Charles Dickens (1812–1870) when he wrote The Old Curiosity Shop (1840-1841).

The derived forms include noncurious, overcurious, supercurious, uncurious & incuruious.  Both uncurious and incurious are rare and between them there is a difference in meaning and usage, but it is much weaker and less consistently observed than the distinction drawn (though not always observed) between disinterest and uninterest.  Incurious means “lacking curiosity; not inclined to inquire or wonder” and often carries a critical or evaluative tone, implying intellectual complacency or narrow-mindedness; it can be applied to individuals but seems more often used of groups.  Uncurious means “usually not curious” and tends to be descriptive rather than judgmental.  Being rarely used and obscure in what exactly is denoted, some style guides list them as awkward and best avoided, recommending being explicit about what is meant.  Curious is an adjective, curiousness & curiosity are nouns, curiously is an adverb; the noun plural curiosities.  The comparative more curious or curiouser and the superlative most curious or curiousest

The proverb “curiosity killed the cat” means “one should not be curious about things that don’t concern one”.  The phrase “curiouser and curiouser” comes from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) by the English author Lewis Carroll (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832–1898)).  As a modern, idiomatic form, it’s used to describe or react to an increasingly mysterious or peculiar situation (though usually not one thought threatening).  Alice made her famous exclamation after experiences increasingly bizarre transformations and other strange events in Wonderland; later, what was described would be thought surrealistic.  The phrase has endured and it appears often in literature and popular culture, London’s Victoria and Albert Museum even holding the Alice: Curiouser and Curiouser event.  The author’s use of “bad English” was deliberate, a device to convey the child’s sense of bewildered confusion.  In standard English, the comparative of "curious" is “more curious” with the –er suffix usually appended to words with one or two syllables.  The word “curiouser” thus inhabits a special niche in that although mainstream dictionaries usually list it as “informal” or “non-standard” (ie “wrong”), unlike most “mistakes”, because it’s a literary reference, it’s a “respectable” word (if used in the phrase).  In that, it’s something like “it ain’t necessarily so”.

Depiction of the mad hatter’s tea party by Sir John Tenniel (1820-1914) in an edition called Nursery Alice (1890), an abridged version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland intended for children under five (the original drawing now held by the British Museum).  The book contained 20 illustrations by Sir John who also provided the artwork for the full-length publication.  A fine craftsman, Sir John was noted also for his moustache which “out-Nietzsched” Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900).  Despite much later speculation, no evidence has ever emerged to suggest Lewis Carroll was under the influence of drugs when writing the “Alice” books

Special derived adjectival uses of curious include the portmanteau word “epicurious” (curious about food, especially wishing to try new dishes and cuisines), the construct being epicu(reean) +‎ (cu)rious.  Although the notion of Epicureans (those who are followers of Epicureanism) being focused on food is overstated, that’s the way the word usually appears in popular use.  “Indy-curious” is from UK politics and refers to those interested in the possibility of independence for Wales, without necessarily being a supporter of the proposal.  Those who are “veg-curious” are interested in or contemplating a vegetarian or vegan diet.

The word “curious” became an element in the punch-lines of some “gay jokes” (a now extinct species outside the gay community) but survived in derived forms in sexology, presumably because they can be used neutrally.  The constructs include (1) “pancurious” (exhibiting a state of uncertainty about one's pansexual or panromantic status), (2) “bi-curious” (interested in having relationships with both men and women, curious about one's potential bisexuality; considering a first sexual experience with a member of the same sex (used especially of heterosexuals), (3) gay-curious (curious about one's homosexuality; curious to try homosexuality (4) homocurious (questioning whether one is homosexual), (5) polycurious (curious about or open to polyamory; potentially interested in having relationships with multiple partners and (6) trans-curious (interested in one's potential transness or the experience of a sexual encounter with a trans person.  None of these forms seem to be in frequent use and some may have been created to “cover the field” and there may be some overlap (such as between pancurious and polycurious) and that at least some may be spectrum conditions seems implicit in the way dictionaries list comparative and superlative forms (eg more bi-curious; most bi-curious).

The synonyms include enquiring, inquiring; exquisitive; investigative and the now rare peery, the latter a use of curious in the vein of the “meddling priest” (ie a “busybody” tending to ask questions or wishing to explore or investigate matters not of their concern).  Such a person could be labelled a quidnunc (gossip-monger, one who is curious to know everything that happens) a word (originally as quid nunc) from the early 1700s, the construct being the Latin quid (what? (neuter of interrogative pronoun quis (who?) from the primitive Indo-European root kwo-, stem of relative and interrogative pronouns)) + nunc (now); the idea was of someone habitually asking “What's the news?” and that phrase was one with which for decades the press baron Lord Beaverbrook (Maxwell Aitken, 1879-1964) would pester his editors.  The other group of synonyms reference the word in its “funny-peculiar” sense and include queer, curious: weird, odd, strange & bizarre.  Such an individual, concept or object can be called “a curiosity” and that’s reflected in the noun “curio” which dates from 1851 and meant originally “piece of bric-a-brac from the Far East” and was a short form of curiosity in the mid seventeenth century sense of “object of interest”’ by the 1890s it was in use to refer to rare or interesting bric-a-brac (or just about anything otherwise unclassified) from anywhere.  The related curioso was in use by the 1650s and for two centuries-odd was a word describing “one who is curious" (of science, art, metaphysics and such) or “one who admires or collects curiosities”; it was from the Italian curioso (a curious soul (person)).

1971 Plymouths in Curious Yellow (code GY3): 'Cuda 340 (left) and GTX (right). 

Although buyers of Ferraris, Porsches, Lamborghinis and such still often order cars in bright colors, most of the world’s fleet had for some years been restricted mostly to white, black and variants of silver & gray; it’s a phase the world is going through and it can’t be predicted how long this visually sober ere will last.  In the US in the late 1960s it was different and like other manufacturers, Chrysler had some history in the coining of fanciful names for the “High Impact” colors dating from the psychedelic era.  Emerging from their marketing departments came Plum Crazy, In-Violet, Tor Red, Limelight, Sub Lime, Sassy Grass, Panther Pink, Moulin Rouge, Top Banana, Lemon Twist & Citron Yella.  That the most lurid colors vanished during the 1970s was not because of changing tastes but in response to environmental & public health legislation which banned the use of lead in automotive paints; without the additive, production of the bright colours was prohibitively expensive.  Advances in chemistry meant that by the twenty-first century brightness could be achieved without the addition of lead so Dodge revived psychedelia for a new generation although Sub Lime became Sublime.

Criterion's re-issue of I Am Curious (Blue) and I Am Curious (Blue) with edited (colorized) artwork.  The original posters were monochrome.  

Two years into the first administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974), and a year on from his declaration of a “War on Drugs”, it was obvious the psychedelic era was over but bright colors were still popular so come were carried over although the advertising became noticeably “less druggy”.  Although it may be an industry myth, the story told is that Plum Crazy & In-Violet (lurid shades of purple) were in 1969 late additions because the killjoy board refused to sign-off on Statutory Grape but despite that, Plymouth for 1971 decided to change the name of their vibrant hue of yellow from “Citron Yella” to “Curious Yellow” (code GY3), that apparently borrowed from the controversial 1967 Swedish erotic film I Am Curious (Yellow), directed by Vilgot Sjöman (1924-2006); it was followed the following year by I Am Curious (Blue), the two intended originally as 3½ hour epic.  As promoted at the time, the films were advertised as “I Am Curious: A Film in Yellow” and “I Am Curious: A Film in Blue”, the mention of the colors an allusion to the Swedish flag.

Lindsay Lohan does her bit to revive Chrysler’s 1971 Curious Yellow, the New York Post’s Alexa magazine, 5 December 2024.

A footnote to the earlier film is an uncredited appearance by Olof Palme (1927–1986; Prime Minister of Sweden 1969-1976 & 1982-1986) whose assassination remains unsolved. The films are very much period pieces of a time when on-screen depictions of sex were for the first time in some places liberated from most censorship and while this produced an entire genre of blends of eroticism and pornography, some directors couldn’t resist interpolating political commentary (of the left and right); at the time, just about everything (sex included) could be sociological.  Critic and audiences mostly were unconvinced but films like the “Curious” brace and Michelangelo Antonioni’s (1912–2007) Zabriskie Point (1970) later gained a cult following.  Problems encountered during production resulted in the release of Zabriskie Point being delayed until 1970 but in retrospective this was a blessing because if anyone doubted the spirit of the 1960s had died, the film was there to remove all doubt.  A commercial failure, visually, it remains a feast for students of pre-digital cinematography and some maintain the best way to enjoy subsequent viewings is to mute the sound and play the soundtrack on repeat; unsynchronized with the scenes, its an experience rewarding in its own way.  

Enthrone

Enthrone (pronounced en-throhn)

(1) To put on the throne in a formal installation ceremony (sometimes called an enthronement) which variously could be synonymous with (or simultaneously performed with) a coronation or other ceremonies of investiture.

(2) Figuratively in this context, to help a candidate to the succession of a monarchy or by extension in any other major organisation (ie the role of “kingmakers”, literal and otherwise).

(3) To invest with sovereign or episcopal authority (ie a legal instrument separate from any ceremony).

(4) To honour or exalt (now rare except in literary or poetic use).

(5) Figuratively, to assign authority to or vest authority in.

Circa 1600: The construct was en- + throne and the original meaning was “to place on a throne, exalt to the seat of royalty”.  For this purpose it replaced the late fourteenth century enthronize, from the thirteenth century Old French introniser, from the Late Latin inthronizare, from Greek the enthronizein.  In the late fourteenth century the verb throne (directly from the noun) was used in the same sense.  Throne (the chair or seat occupied by a sovereign, bishop or other exalted personage on ceremonial occasions) dates from the late twelfth century and was from the Middle English trone, from the Old French trone, from the Latin thronus, from the Ancient Greek θρόνος (thrónos) (chair, high-set seat, throne).  It replaced the earlier Middle English seld (seat, throne).  In facetious use, as early as the 1920s, throne could mean “a toilet” (used usually in the phrase “on the throne”) and in theology had the special use (in the plural and capitalized) describing the third (a member of an order of angels ranked above dominions and below cherubim) of the nine orders into which the angels traditionally were divided in medieval angelology.  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials b and p.  Enthrone, dethrone, enthronest & enthronize are verbs, enthronementm, enthronization & enthroner are nouns, enthroning is a noun & verb, enthroned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is enthronements.  The noun enthronable is non-standard.  The derived forms include the verb unenthrone, reenthrone & disenthrone and although there have been many enthroners, the form enthronee has never existed.

Alhaji Ibrahim Wogorie (b 1967) being enskinned as North Sisala community chief, Ghana, July 2023.

In colonial-era West Africa the coined forms were “enskin” (thus enskinment, enskinning, enskinned) and “enstool” (thus enstoolment, enstooling, enstooled).  These words were used to refer to the ceremonies in which a tribal chief was installed in his role; the meanings thus essentially the same as enjoyed in the West by “enthrone”.  The constructs reflected a mix of indigenous political culture and English morphological adaptation during the colonial period, the elements explained by (1) the animal skins (the distinctive cheetah often mentioned in the reports of contemporary anthropologists although in some Islamic and Sahelian-influenced chieftaincies (including the Dagomba, Mamprusi, Hausa emirates), a cow or lion skin often was the symbol of authority) which often surrounded the new chief and (2) the tradition in Africa of a chief sitting on a stool.  Sometimes, the unfortunate animal’s skin would be laid over the stool (and almost always, one seems to have been laid at the chief’s feet) but in some traditions (notably in northern Ghana and parts of Nigeria) it was a mark of honor for the chief to sit on a skin spread on the ground.

Dr Mahamudu Bawumia (b 1963), enstooled as Nana Ntentankesehene (Chief of the Internet/Web), Ghana, August 2024.  Note the cheetah skin used to trim the chair.

The stool was the central symbol of chieftaincy and kingship among Akan-speaking peoples (still in present-day Ghana where “to enskin” is used generally to mean “to install as a leader of a group” and the constitution (1992) explicitly protects the institution of chieftaincy and judicial decisions routinely use “enstool” or “enskin” (depending on region)).  In Akan political culture, the most famous use was the Sika Dwa Kofi (the Golden Stool) of the Asante and it represented the embodiment of the polity and ancestors, not merely a seat (used rather like the synecdoches “the Pentagon” (for the US Department of Defense (which appears now to be headed by a cabinet office who simultaneously is both Secretary of Defense & Secretary of War)) or “Downing Street” (for the UK prime-minister or the government generally).  Thus, to be “enstooled” is ritually to be placed into office as chief, inheriting the authority vested in the stool.  Enskin & enstool (both of which seem first to have appeared in the records of the Colonial Office in the 1880s and thus were products of the consolidation of British indirect rule in West Africa, rather than being survivals from earlier missionary English which also coined its own terms) were examples of semantic calquing (the English vocabulary reshaped to encode indigenous concepts) and, as it was under the Raj in India, it was practical administrative pragmatism, colonial officials needing precise (and standardized) terms that distinguished between different systems of authority.  In truth, they were also often part of classic colonial “fixes” in which the British would take existing ceremonies and add layers of ritual to afforce the idea of a chief as “their ruler” and within a couple of generations, sometimes the local population would talk of the newly elaborate ceremony as something dating back centuries; the “fix” was a form of constructed double-legitimization.

A classic colonial fix was the Bose Levu Vakaturaga (Great Council of Chiefs) in Fiji which the British administrators created in 1878.  While it's true that prior to European contact, there had been meetings between turaga (tribal chiefs) to settle disputes and for other purposes, all the evidence suggests they were ad-hoc appointments with little of the formality, pomp and circumstance the British introduced.  Still, it was a successful institution which the chiefs embraced, apparently with some enthusiasm because the cloaks and other accoutrements they adopted for the occasion became increasingly elaborate and it was a generally harmonious form of indigenous governance which enabled the British to conduct matters of administration and policy-making almost exclusively through the chiefs.  The council survived even after Fiji gained independence from Britain in 1970 until it was in 2012 abolished by the military government of Commodore Frank Bainimarama (b 1954; prime minister of Fiji 2007-2022), as part of reform programme said to be an attempt to reduce ethnic divisions and promote a unified national identity.  The commodore's political future would be more assured had he learned lessons from the Raj.

There was of course an element of racial hierarchy in all this and “enskin” & “enstool” denoted a “tribal chief” under British rule whereas “enthrone” might have been thought to imply some form of sovereignty because that was the linkage in Europe and that would never do.  What the colonial authorities wanted was to maintain the idea of “the stool” as a corporate symbol, the office the repository of the authority, not the individual.  The danger with using a term like “enthronement” was the population might be infected by the European notion of monarchy as a hereditary kingship with personal sovereignty; what the Europeans wanted was “a stool” and they would decide who would be enstooled, destooled or restooled. 

Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi, Moses Mabhida Stadium, Durban, South Africa, October 2022.

English words and their connotations did continue to matter in the post-colonial world because although the colonizers might have departed, often the legacy of language remained, sometimes as an “official” language of government and administration.  In the 1990s, the office of South Africa’s Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi (1928–2023) sent a series of letters to the world’s media outlets advising he should be styled as “Prince” and not “Chief”, on the basis of being the grandson of one Zulu king and the nephew of another.  The Zulus were once described as a “tribe” and while that reflected the use in ethnography, the appeal in the West was really that it represented a rung on the racist hierarchy of civilization, the preferred model being: white people have nations or states, Africans cluster in tribes or clans.  The colonial administrators recognized these groups had leaders and typically they used the style “chief” (from the Middle English cheef & chef, from the Old French chef & chief (leader), from the Vulgar Latin capus, from the Classical Latin caput (head), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the primitive Indo-European káput).  As the colonial records make clear, there were “good” chiefs and “troublesome” chiefs, thus the need sometimes to arrange a replacement enstooling.

Unlike in the West where styles of address and orders of precedence were codified (indeed, somewhat fetishized), the traditions in Africa seem to have been more fluid and Mangosuthu Buthelezi didn’t rely on statute or even documented convention when requesting the change.  Instead, he explained “prince” reflected his Zulu royal lineage not only was appropriate (he may have cast an envious eye at the many Nigerian princes) but was also commonly used as his style by South African media, some organs or government and certainly his own Zulu-based political party (IQembu leNkatha yeNkululeko (the IPF; Inkatha Freedom Party).  He had in 1953 assumed the Inkosi (chieftainship) of the Buthelezi clan, something officially recognized four year laters by Pretoria although not until the early 1980s (when it was thought he might be useful as a wedge to drive into the ANC (African National Congress) does the Apartheid-era government seem to have started referring to him as “prince”).  Despite that cynical semi-concession, there was never a formal re-designation.

Enthroned & installed: Lindsay Lohan in acrylic & rhinestone tiara during “prom queen scene” in Mean Girls (2004).

In the matter of prom queens and such, it’s correct to say there has been “an enthronement” because even in the absence of a physical throne (in the sense of “a chair”), the accession is marked by the announcement and the placing of the crown or tiara.  This differs from something like the “enthroning” of a king or queen in the UK because, constitutionally, there is no interregnum, the new assuming the title as the old took their last breath and “enthronement” is a term reserved casually to apply to the coronation.  Since the early twentieth century, the palace and government have contrived to make an elaborate “made for television” ceremony although it has constitutional significance beyond the rituals related to the sovereign’s role as Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Dame Sarah Mullally in the regalia of Bishop of London; in January 2026, she will take office as Archbishop of Canterbury, the formal installation in March.  No longer one of the world's more desirable jobs (essentially because it can't be done), all wish her the best of British luck.

In October 2025, the matter of enthronement (or, more correctly, non-enthronement) in the Church of England made a brief splash in some of the less explored corners of social media after it was announced the ceremony marking the accession of the next Archbishop of Canterbury would be conducted in Canterbury Cathedral in March 2026.  The announcement was unexceptional in that it was expected and for centuries Archbishops of Canterbury have come and gone (although the last one was declared gone rather sooner than expected) but what attracted some comment was the new appointee was to be “installed” rather than the once traditional “enthroned”.  The conclusion some drew was this apparent relegation was related to the next archbishop being Dame Sarah Mullally (née Bowser; b 1962) the first woman to hold the once desirable job, the previous 105 prelates having been men, the first, Saint Augustine of Canterbury (circa 630s-circa 604) in 597 (not to be confused with the still influential Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430)).

Despite the suspicions the event was being in some way "devalued" because a woman got the job, there is in the church no substantive legal or theological significance in the use of “installed” rather than “enthroned” and the choice reflects modern ecclesiastical practice rather than having any doctrinal or canonical effect.  A person become Archbishop of Canterbury through a sequence of juridical acts and these constitute the decisive legal instruments; ceremonial rites have a symbolic value but nothing more, the power of the office vested from the point at which the legal mechanisms have correctly been executed (in that, things align with the procedures used for the nation’s monarchs).  So the difference is one of tone rather than substance and the “modern” church has for decades sought to distance itself from perceptions it may harbor quasi-regal aspirations or the perpetuation of clerical grandeur and separateness; at least from Lambeth Palace, the preferred model long has been pastoral; most Church of England bishops have for some times been “installed” in their cathedrals (despite “enthronement” surviving in some press reports, a product likely either of nostalgia or “cut & paste journalism”).  That said, some Anglican provinces outside England still “enthrone” (apparently on the basis “it’s always been done that way” rather than the making of a theological or secular point”).

Lambeth Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury's official London residence.

Interestingly, Archbishops of York (“the church in the north”) continued to enjoy ceremonies of enthronement even after those those at Canterbury underwent installations.  Under canon law, the wording literally makes no difference and historians have concluded the retention of the older form is clung to for no reason other than “product differentiation”, York Minster often emphasizing their continuity with medieval ceremonial forms; it’s thus a mere cultural artefact, the two ceremonies performing the same liturgical action: seating the archbishop in the cathedra (the chair (throne) of the archbishop.  Because it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury and not York who sits as the “spiritual head of the worldwide Anglican community”, in York there’s probably no lingering sensitivity to criticism of continuing with “Romish ways”.  It's not that northern noses are less troubled by the “whiff of popery”, it just that few now care.

In an indication of how little the wording matters, it’s not clear who was the last Archbishop of Canterbury who could be said to have been “enthroned” because there was never any differentiation of form in the ceremonies and the documents suggest the terms were used casually and even interchangeably.  What can be said is that Geoffrey Fisher (1887–1972; AoC-99: 1945-1961) was installed at a ceremony widely described (in the official programme, ecclesiastical commentaries and other church & secular publications) as an “enthronement” and that was the term used in the government Gazette; that’s as official an endorsement of the term as seems possible because, being an established church, bishops are appointed by the Crown on the advice of the prime minister although the procedure has at least since 2007 been a “legal fiction” because the church’s CNC (Crown Nominations Commission) sends the names to the prime minister who acts as a “postbox”, forwarding them to the palace for the issuing of letters patent confirming the appointment.  When Michael Ramsey (1904–1988; AoC-100: 1961-1974), was appointed, although the term “enthrone” did appear in press reports, the church’s documents almost wholly seem to have used “install” and since then, in Canterbury, it’s been installations all the way.

Pope Pius XII in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, March, 1939.

So, by the early 1960s the church was responding, if cautiously, to the growing anti-monarchical sentiment in post-war ecclesiology although this does seem to have been a sentiment of greater moment to intellectuals and theologians than parishioners.  About these matters there was however a kind of ecumenical sensitivity emerging and the conciliar theology later was crystallised (if not exactly codified) in the papers of Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970).  The comparison with the practice in Rome is interesting because there are more similarities than differences although that is obscured by words like “enthronement” and “coronation” being seemingly embedded in the popular (and journalistic) imagination. That’s perhaps understandable because for two millennia as many as 275 popes (officially the count is 267 but it’s not certain how many there have been because there have been “anti-popes” and allegedly even one woman (although that’s now largely discounted)) have sat “on the throne of Saint Peter” (retrospectively the first pope) so the tradition is long.  In Roman Catholic canon law, “enthronement” is not a juridical term; the universal term is capio sedem (taking possession of the cathedral (ie “installation”)) and, as in England, an appointment is formalized once the legal instruments are complete, the subsequent ceremony, while an important part of the institution’s mystique, exists for the same reason as it does for the Church of England or the House of Windsor: it’s the circuses part of panem et circenses (bread and circuses).  Unlike popes who once had coronations, archbishops of Canterbury never did because they made no claim to temporal sovereignty.

Pope Paul VI in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, June. 1963.  It was the last papal coronation.

So, technically, modern popes are “installed as Bishop of Rome” and in recent decades the Holy See has adjusted the use of accoutrements to dispel any implication of an “enthronement”, the last papal coronation at which a pope was crowned with the triple tiara was that of Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) but in “an act of humility” he removed it, placing it on the on the alter where (figuratively), it has since sat.  Actually, Paul VI setting aside the triple tiara as a symbolic renunciation of temporal and monarchical authority was a bit overdue because the Papal States had been lost to the Holy See with the unification of Italy in 1870 though the Church refused to acknowledge that reality; in protest, no pope for decades set foot outside the Vatican.  However, in the form of the Lateran Treaty (1929), the Holy See entered into a concordat with the Italian state whereby the (1) the Vatican was recognized as a sovereign state and (2) the church was recognized as Italy’s state religion in exchange for which the territorial and political reality was recognized.  Despite that, until 1963 the triple tiara (one tier of which was said to symbolize the pope’s temporal authority over the papal states) appeared in the coronations of Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958), John XXIII (1881-1963; pope 1958-1963) and Paul VI (who didn’t formally abolish the rite of papal coronation from the Ordo Rituum pro Ministerii Petrini Initio Romae Episcopi (Order of Rites for the Beginning of the Petrine Ministry of the Bishop of Rome (the liturgical book detailing the ceremonies for a pope's installation)) until 1975.

The Chair of St Augustine.  In church circles, archbishops of Canterbury are sometimes said to "occupy the Chair of St Augustine".

The Chair of St Augustine sits in Canterbury Cathedral but technically, an AoC is “twice installed”: once on the Diocesan throne as the Bishop of the see of Canterbury and also on the Chair of St Augustine as Primate of All England (the nation's first bishop) and spiritual leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion. So, there’s nothing unusual in Sarah Mullally being “installed” rather than “enthroned” as would have been the universal terminology between the reformation and the early twentieth century.  Linguistically, legally and theologically, the choice of words is a non-event and anyone who wishes to describe Dame Sarah as “enthroned” may do so without fear of condemnation, excommunication or a burning at the stake.  What is most likely is that of those few who notice, fewer still are likely to care.