Jail

Jail (pronounced jeyl)

(1) A prison (in some places used generally of institutions of incarceration, in others tending to be applied to structures used for the detention of those awaiting trial or convicted of minor offenses).

(2) To take into or hold in lawful custody; to imprison; to incarcerate.

(3) In horse racing, the condition created by the requirement that a horse claimed in a claiming race not be run at another track for some period of time (usually 30 days).

(4) In dodgeball (and related games), the area where players who have been struck by the ball are confined.

(5) In computing, as used by certain variants of Linux, an implementation of a sandbox in which can be run an instance of another OS (operating system).

1225–1275: From the Middle English gayole, gaylle, gaille, gayle, gaile, gaiole, jaiole & jaile, from the Old North French gaiole, gayolle & gaole and the Old French jaiole (cage), from the Medieval Latin gabiola, from the Vulgar Latin gaviola, a variant of the Late Latin caveola (small cage, cell), diminutive of the Classical Latin cavea (cavity, coop, cage).  Regionalism in language was one more common (especially in eras when population movement (particularly in rural areas)) was more limited and the two spellings in the Old French variants reflect the independent linguistic evolutions, the spelling “gaole” indicative of a pronunciation in use until the seventeenth century.  It fully displaced the native Middle English quartern (prison, jail, cell), from the Old English cweartern (jail, prison) and partially displaced the native Middle English lok, from the Old English loc (enclosure, pen; jail, prison) (from which English gained “lock”) and the Middle English carcern, from the Old English carcern, from the Latin carcer (prison, jail).  In the Old English, there were many words meaning jail (regionalism also a factor here) including heaþor & heolstorloca (the latter meaning also “jail cell”), clūstorloc, dung (the latter meaning also also “dungeon”), hlinræced, nirwþ, nīedcleofa, hearmloca and nearu.  Jail & jailing are nouns & verbs; enjail, rejail, jailor (or jailer) & jailoress (or jaileress) are nouns, jailed & enjailed are verbs, jailless, jailish, jailable, nonjailable & jaillike are adjectives; the noun plural is jails.

In English, there are seeming anomalies which must baffle those learning the tongue and make them wonder how such a messy and sometimes inconsistent language became something of the world’s lingua franca.  Were it possible to have a committee edit the lexicon and eliminate the pointlessly troublesome, not only might something be done about homophones like “razed” (demolished) and “raised” (built) but the “gaol” (still used in parts of the English-speaking world to mean “jail”) would be retired and “jail” would become universal.  Jail as a noun dates from the thirteenth century and the persistence of “gaol” as the preferred form in the UK is attributed to the continued use in statutes and other official documents although there may also have been some reluctance to adopt “jail” because this had come to be regarded as an Americanism.

Some idiomatic and slang uses

Things to find on the web.

A “jailbreak” literally is “an escape from jail” but it was adopted in the ecosystem created by the computer industry to refer to modification to the hardware or firmware of an electronic device (mobile phones, tablets, gaming consoles etc) to allow the installation and use of software not officially supported or explicitly excluded by the manufacturer.  With the coming of AI (artificial intelligence) LLMs (large language models), jailbreak also became the term for a prompt which in some way bypasses any ethical restrictions imposed by the vendor.  In ice hockey, the jailbreak is a rule applied in some leagues under which a penalty is ended if the short-handed team scores; the goal scored in such circumstances is a jailbreak.  Any prisoner who emerges from jail (whether by a jailbreak or by more regular means) is said to be a “jailbird” and there are more than a dozen formal & informal terms for “jail” including slammer, hoosegow, jailhouse, big house, Uncle Sam’s hotel etc.

2022 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Redeye Widebody Jailbreak in Go Mango with satin black accents over black Laguna leather and Alcantara upholstery.  Because of the design of the front splitter, this model was supplied ex-factory with the one-piece yellow "underwire". 

Unexpectedly, during the 2010s, "underwire" entered the lexicon of automotive slang when it was used to describe a plastic part fitted temporarily as a protective piece.  The yellow plastic fitting (pictured above on the leading edge of the Challenger's splitter) was called a "splitter guard" which was unimaginative but the factory didn't envisage them as consumer items and the term was merely explanatory for the information of those preparing cars for sale.  Installed to prevent damage during shipping, it was part of dealer preparation instructions to remove the pieces but leaving them attached became a cult and some cars were even retro-fitted.  An element in that was the "end of an era" vibe and large number of the vehicles in Dodge's "Last Call" runs (of which there were many) were purchased as investments to be stored away for the day when V8s are no longer produced and collectors will be anxious to pay much for the way things used to be done.  How well that will work out remains to be seen but with the "Last Call" runs typically in batches of more than 3000, most of them weren't, in collectable terms, especially rare.  

2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 Jailbreak in Panther Pink with satin black accents over black Alcantara and Laguna leather.

In the Demon 170 Jailbreak program, there were 40 exclusive paint colors and this is the sole example in Panther Pink.  The model was rated at 1025 HP and, with a different design of front splitter, was fitted with a two-piece underwire.  The first Supermarine Spitfires and Hawker Hurricanes which in 1940 fought the Messerschmitt Bf 109s & Bf 110s in English skies during the Battle of Britain were rated at 1030 HP and while the power characteristics of car and aeroplane were very different, the numbers are indicative of 80-odd years of progress. 

Dealers cautioned against the trend, noting the pieces weren't specifically molded to ensure a perfect fit so dirt and moisture were prone to being trapped in the gaps and this could scuff the paint.  They were known also as "damage guards" and "scuff guards" but more imaginative souls dubbed them the "underwire" while serious students of such things suggested a better simile might have been "pastie", while acknowledging Chrysler followed the lead of the underwear manufacturers in having available both single and two-piece "underwires" although this was coincidental and deterministic, dictated by the splitter design.  Women have been known to remove from bras especially intrusive underwires (a "comfort thing") but whether on splitters they were kept or discarded might have seemed an improbable subject for dispute but with cars, men always find a reason to argue about something.  Although probably it would have preferred to discuss horsepower, superchargers and such, Chrysler noted the cultural phenomenon and, while obviously reluctant to upset either faction, did issue a statement to a magazine which had requested comment:

"The splitter guards on Dodge Charger and Challenger have taken on a life of their own. They originally made their debut in the 2015 model year to protect the performance fascias on SRT models during shipment from the manufacturing facility to the dealer, and, yes, they are designed to be removed before delivery.  But today, they have their own Facebook page, and many of our performance enthusiasts have active debates on whether to keep or remove them. Some owners say they are even selling them in the aftermarket.  Obviously, they weren't part of the original design, so we started with yellow guards and shifted to pink, but they are still so popular that we may shift them yet again to black. Wherever we land, this is another example of how our customers are passionate about every part of their Dodge muscle cars."

1970 Dodge Challenger hardtop 440 Six Pack in Panther Pink High Impact (code FM3) over black vinyl (code X9) with houndstooth cloth inserts (code 5).  On the Challenger, Panther Pink (FM3) was offered only in the spring of 1970.

By the twenty-first century, long done were the days in the early 1950s when Chrysler Corporation was run by men with an ethos that cars should be designed so “a gentleman can drive one while wearing his hat” and if that dictated stodgy looking vehicles, so be it.  That changed with the release of the 1955 range and from then on, for better or worse it was all about style but by the early 2000s, the company reached the same conclusion as GM (General Motors) and Ford: automotive aesthetics attained their peak in the late 1960s and what’s been done since hasn’t been as good.  Accordingly, for the release of the third generation (although many don’t count the second because it was a badge-engineered Japanese import) Challenger (2008-2023), Dodge produced a most accomplished re-imagining of the first (1970-1974), a vehicle which was a costly commercial failure although that was due more to external conditions than the thing’s dynamic qualities.  Between 2008-2023 the Challenger was produced in a bewildering number of variants, many with some of the longer multi-part model names and it’s doubtful if any but the most devoted fan-boys could either recall or deconstruct the configuration of them all.

Designer colors and more: Publicity shot for the Porsche Sonderwunsch programme; note the rubber laid down on the concrete.

On intriguing piece of nomenclature was “Jailbreak” which Chrysler’s marketing types picked up from the use in various sub-cultures to circumvent manufacturers’ restrictions on devices like smartphones although this was a case of Dodge “hacking itself” (using “hack” loosely) because the Jailbreak “customization program” was explained as a way in which buyers could bypass the previous limitations on what could be ordered with which, enabling them to “mix ’n’ match”.  The concept is of course familiar in the fiscally rarefied air breathed in placed like the Porsche Sonderwunsch (special request) office but it wasn’t new to Detroit, Cadillac in the happy days of the 1960s, despite in a typical year offering literally over a hundred combinations of interior & exterior combinations also offered buyers the chance to make “special requests”.  There's no record of Cadillac attempting to act as the "good taste police" and presumably if some buyer did ask for an aesthetically dubious combination, duly it was built although the factory did refuse to use light colors on dashboard pads or package shelves because of the risk of reflections in the glass.  The deviations from the production line rationalization which was designed for optimal efficiency of course came at a cost and took additional time but everything was priced at a level to ensure the profitability to which Cadillac had become accustomed.

The jailbreak programme was also available on the Charger.

For Dodge the Jailbreak programme was run on similar lines and while not quite an “anything goes” approach, it was more permissive and for the Challenger’s final two seasons (2022-2023), buyers of SRT Hellcat or SRT Hellcat Redeye models could “fine-tune” things like paint, interior trim, wheels, stripes, badges and other items in a way the factory had not previously permitted.  As icing on the jailbreak cake, the SRT Hellcat Redeye Jailbreak cars received a more potent engine, rated at 807 horsepower, a number which would have seemed a fantasy in the era of the second generation Challenger when the most powerful engine offered probably generated (in comparable terms) around 435-445 HP.

The Royal Navy's Battle Cruisers opening fire in the opening stages of the Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916, (1919), oil on canvas by Lionel Wyllie (1851–1931).

Fought in 1916 between the UK’s Royal Navy and the Navy of the German Empire (the so-called “Second Reich”), the battle of Jutland in 1916 was the closest the world got to the clash on the high seas of fleets of dreadnoughts, an event the navalists and theorists had for a generation be expecting or hankering.  For a variety of reasons it proved anti-climatic (though at a cost of over 8,000 lives) but while a tactical victory for the Germans (in terms of ships sunk or damaged and causalities), strategically the British succeeded in ensuring for the rest of of World War I (1914-1918) their opponents were confined to a pocket of the Baltic, denied access to the North Sea and thus the Atlantic; this enabled the Royal Navy’s blockade of Germany to be maintained.  Summing up, the New York Times concluded: “The prisoner gave his jailor a bloody nose but at the end of the day was back behind bars in his jail cell.”  Barely noticed except in the halls of the admiralties (where it made a great impression) was the vulnerability of the battlecruiser, a class of ship of which much had been expected although at Jutland they were used in a way the theorists who suggested the configuration had neither intended nor recommended.

The concept of a “black jail” is ancient; it’s a jail where people can, for whatever reason, be imprisoned by some agency of state, often in secret and with no recourse to legal remedies or other procedures.  It can be thought of as a particular example of “being disappeared” and the use of such institutions was the origin of the judicial writ of habeas corpus (from the Latin habeas corpus ad subjiciendum (“You (shall) have the body to be subjected to (examination)”) which in the common law tradition can be translated as “bring them before the court so the lawfulness of their detention may be assessed”.  First seen in England in the twelfth century, the writ to this day remains (in Western nations) one of the core protections afforded to citizens.  In 2002, shortly after it invaded the place as an administrative convenience, the US established such a jail in Afghanistan and apparently it was controlled by the Department of Defence’s (now again the Department of War) intelligence office and staff from Army Special Operations although other agencies were known to have provided “specialized services”.  Existing always on a “neither confirm nor deny” basis, the US Black Jail was an example of the way things get done when it’s required to process irregular combatants in extreme conditions.

It illustrated too the use of language: Among nations party to the relevant conventions, whereas prisoners of war (ie those combatants who meet the definition) are held in “PoW (prisoner of war) Camps” and never lose their military status; others can end up in “jails”.  Of course, it can’t be certain organs of the state in some Western countries aren’t still in secret maintaining “black jails”, possibly without the knowledge of elected governments.  The system of concentration camps created during the Third Reich (1933-1945) began as a way for the state to regularize what had unexpectedly “sprung-up” as a number of “black jails” created informally by party members to imprison their many opponents and enemies.  It was a classic example of the essentially criminal, gangster nature of the Nazi state and while the authorities didn’t object to most of those in the black jails being incarcerated, they wanted it done on an organized, professional basis.  Structurally, the operation of the concentration camps was also a microcosm of the whole Nazi project: Those who could send victims to the camps or have them released had no say of what happened within the camps while those running the places could order neither an individual’s jailing nor their release.

Jail juice comes pre-packaged.

In 2011, the Salt Lake Tribune reported a case of botulism in jail juice fermented in a cell in the Utah State Prison, the source traced to a “bad” potato.  The prisoner responsible for the brew (containing powdered juice mix and several types of fresh and canned fruit) told medical staff he added the “two-week old baked potato” because he thought it would “accelerate fermentation”.

Jail juice is prison slang (originally a US form but now widely used, even beyond the English-speaking world) for the various forms of improvised alcoholic beverages (typically fermented) brewed in correctional facilities.  There are other slang forms of the concoctions including “prison hooch”, “swish”, “prison wine”, “toilet wine” & “loaf brew” (some forms of white bread said to be a good additive in the process once crumbed) but most descriptive was “pruno”.  Dating from the late 1930s, the name was derived from the use of prunes, then in ample supply in many US prison kitchens.  The term pruno became generic, later applied regardless of the fruit used in the fermentation.  A “phone jail” is a place (usually in schools) in which the mobile phones of students are locked away for certain durations (which can be short or the whole school day).  “Jailbait” describes someone (almost always female) who is (1) obviously sexually mature yet (2) was (or appeared to be) under the legal age of consent and was (3) considered attractive or seductive.  The term references the legal concept of statutory rape under which an adult engaging in consensual sexual relations with someone under whatever is the relevant age in that jurisdiction can convicted and jailed.

Lindsay Lohan “Mug Shots” coffee mugs.

In November, 2011, in a hearing held at Los Angeles Superior Court Airport branch, Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to 30 days in jail at Lynwood's Century Regional Detention Facility.  The penalty was imposed after she admitted violating the terms of her probation from a 2007 DUI (driving under the influence) case; she had failed to attend community service appointments at a Los Angeles women's shelter.  However, just 4½ hours into the 30-day sentence, she was handed a “get out of jail free card”, released because of chronic over-crowding in California's jail system.  Sometimes, you get lucky.

At least one “Get out of jail free” card has been included in every version of the Monopoly board game since first it was released in 1935 although most editions have featured two, one from the “Chance” stack, the other from “Community Chest”.  What possession of the card confers is the ability (as the name implies) for a player to move on from the jail square without having to throw three doubles (of the dice) in a role or pay a fine although, in certain circumstances, it can be adventitious for a player not to use the card and “remain in jail”, something which sometimes happens IRL (in real life).  From the board game comes the idiomatic use of “a get-out-of-jail-free card” to refer to “a certain privilege or advantage providing relief from an undesirable situation or immunity from punishment or consequences”.  Historically, states have sometimes offered similar devices although they’ve never been available for those accused of serious offences.

Macy’s department store, Herald Square, Manhattan, New York City.

In George Orwell’s (1903-1950) novel Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), the Ministry of Love was responsible for the dispensation of fear and suffering and its most dreaded institution was Room 101, located in the basement of their headquarters.  Room 101 was a torture chamber in which the ruling party subjected prisoners to their individual worst nightmares and greatest fears, the purpose being finally to destroy any residual resistance.  Less threatening though equally specific is Room 140 at Macy’s department store Herald Square flagship store in Manhattan, New York City.  One of a few private “jails” in New York, those accused of shoplifting are escorted by security guards to Room 140’s cells where they can be held for hours, the stories told suggesting the detained are asked to sign an admission of guilt and pay sometimes hundreds of dollars in “fines”, sometimes without any conclusive proof of an offence.  That may sound medieval but a majority of US states do have on the books legislation which offer retailers often a wide latitude forcefully to hold and subsequently fine suspects, even if, technically, nothing has been stolen or criminal charges have been dropped.  The US industry’s problem is real because as much as US$15 billion is each year lost to shoplifting and the purpose of the laws is both a tacit admission the state would prefer not to be involved in “low dollar value” matters and a way to enable stores to recoup some losses.  Under New York's long-standing law, retailers may collect a penalty of five times the cost of the stolen merchandise (up to US$500 per item), plus as much as US$1,500 if the “recovered” merchandise isn't in a condition to be sold.  A conviction is not a pre-condition to bring a civil claim.

If ever Macy's comes under new management, hopefully the new operators will have a better sense of the sardonic and rename "Room 140" to "Room 101".

In operation, application has been controversial with claims retailers abuse the law by engaging in “racial profiling”, targeting minorities and holding customers for hours as a form of duress; Macy’s has in the past paid a settlement to the state to settle a number of claims.  Macy’s maintain their corporate policies prohibit coercion when recovering fines, recently issuing a statement: “Our policy of exercising our right to pursue a civil recovery payment is consistent with common practice in the retail industry and within the parameters of the law.”  Many retailers detain suspected shoplifters although few have their own jail cells and Macy’s is unusual in requesting the on-the-spot payment of fines.

Mnemonic

Mnemonic (pronounced ni-mon-ik)

(1) Something assisting or intended to assist the memory.

(2) Pertaining to mnemonics or to memory.

(3) In computing, truncated code thought easy to remember (eg STO for store).

1660–1670: From the New Latin mnemonicus from the Ancient Greek μνημονικός (mnēmonikós) (of memory) derived from μνήμων (mnḗmōn) (remembering, mindful) & μνᾶσθαι (mnâsthai) (to remember); the ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European men (to think).  The meaning "aiding the memory", a back-formation from mnemonics dates from 1753, the noun meaning "mnemonic device" is from 1858.  The use in computer programming emerged in the early days of code and was a space-saving (eg del rather than delete) tool as well.  Mnemonical was the original form from the 1660s.  One of the charming ironies of mnemonic is it is one of those words so many can't quite remember how to spell.  It's thus in a sense "antimnemonic" and a contronym (also as auto-antonym, antagonym, or enantiodrome) which describes a word with two opposite or contradictory meanings, depending on context.  Mnemonic is a noun & adjective, mnemonician, mnemonicalist, mnemotechnist & mnemonicon are nouns, mnemonize & mnemonized are verbs, mnemonical & mnemotechnic are adjectives and mnemonically & mnemotechnically are adverbs; the noun plural is mnemonics.

Sans Forgetica

Sans Forgetica sample text.

Recently released, Sans Forgetica (which translates as "without forgetting") is a sans-serif font developed by RMIT University in Melbourne.  Back-slanted and with gaps in the character constructions, it’s designed explicitly to assist readers better to understand and retain in their memory what they’ve read.  Perhaps counter-intuitively for those outside the field, the shape is intended to reduce legibility, thereby (1) lengthening the tame taken to read the text and (2) adding complexity to learning and absorbing what’s been read.  Together, they create what in cognitive psychology and neuroscience is called "desirable difficulty", in this case forcing (RMIT might prefer "nudging") people to concentrate.

The first three paragraphs of Lindsay Lohan's Wikipedia page, rendered in Sans Forgetica.  Sans was from the Middle English saunz & sans, from the Old French sans, senz & sens, from the Latin sine (without) conflated with absēns (absent, remote).   Forgetica was an opportunistic coining, the construct being forget + -ica.  Forget was from the Middle English forgeten, forgiten, foryeten & forȝiten, from the Old English forġietan (to forget) (which was influenced by the Old Norse geta (to get; to guess), from the Proto-West Germanic fragetan (to give up, forget).  The -ica suffix was from the Latin -ica, the neuter plural of -icus (belonging to derived from; of or pertaining to; connected with).

From usually a young age, readers become skilled at scanning text, a process helped by most publishers seeking to render their works as legible as possible.  The theory of desirable difficulty is that omitting parts of the font requires the reader to pause and process information more slowly, thus provoking an additional cognitive processing which may enhance both understanding and retention.  While the application of the science to a font is novel, there’s nothing original about Sans Forgetica as a piece of typography, it being described as a hybrid of several existing schools and within the theory, on the basis of a small-group sample of students, it’s claimed to be a balance between legibility and difficulty.  According to the documents supplied by the developer, it’s not been tested as a device for advertisers to draw people to their text, the theory of that being people scan and dismiss (without retention) the great bulk of the large, static signage which is a feature of just about every urban environment.  With Sans Forgetica, because it can’t as quickly be scanned, people will tend longer to linger and so more carefully read the whole; a memorable event itself.

The most recent revision (DSM-5-TR (2022)) to the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) followed DSM-5 (2013) in refining the somewhat vague section on amnesia in both the DSM-IV (1994) & DSM-IV-TR (2000) where appeared the terms “Psychogenic amnesia” & “dissociative amnesia”, the core element of which was: “one or more episodes of inability to recall important personal information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is too extensive to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness.”  That really reflected the popular understanding and there was no clear definition of sub-types in the diagnostic criteria although in the text (not always in criteria) there was mention of localized, selective or generalized forms.  In the fifth edition, the disorder was called Dissociative Amnesia (psychogenic amnesia seems to have been replaced) and it was listed in the dissociative disorders section.  The definition still includes an “inability to recall important autobiographical information, usually of a traumatic or stressful nature, that is inconsistent with ordinary forgetting” so the popular understanding remains acknowledged but sub-types are now listed: localized (for specific event(s)), selective (some parts of the event), or generalized (identity and life history) amnesia.  Consistent with the structural revisions elsewhere in the fifth edition, the exclusion criteria was made more explicit (ie the memory loss should not be due to substances, medication, a neurological condition or better accounted for by another mental disorder) although clinician remain aware of overlap.  Significantly the DSM-5 did clarify that amnesia is retrograde (loss of pre-existing memories), especially of autobiographical kind and emphasised the memory loss is “beyond what is expected from normal forgetting.”  Because in such matters, there will be so much variation between patients, it remains one of those conditions with fuzzy boundaries and the symptoms presented must be assessed on a case-by-case basis.

Amnesia (memory loss) is much studied and although associated with the aging process, traumatic events (brain injury or psychological impacts) and certain neurological conditions, there have been some celebrated cases of recovery without medical intervention.  One celebrated case was that of Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941) who in 1941 (on the eve of Germany invading the USSR) flew himself to Scotland in a bizarre and unauthorized attempt to negotiate a peace deal with those in the UK he though would be "reasonable men".    His "offer" was rejected and he was locked up (including two weeks in the Tower of London), later to be sent as a defendant before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946).  There, so convincing were his symptoms of amnesia and other mental states the judges requested submissions from defence and prosecution counsel on the matter of his fitness to stand trial.  The prosecutors assured the bench Hess would be able to both understand and cope with the proceedings and that an imperfect memory was merely a hindrance to his defence rather than an insuperable obstacle.  This was of course a predictable argument and the judges acceded to the defence’s request for a thorough medical investigation although they declined the suggestion Swiss doctors be consulted, assembling instead a team from medical staff on hand (three Soviet, three American, three British and one French), all from the nations running the trial.  The physicians presented four national papers which broadly were in agreement: Hess was sane (as legally defined) but was suffering from hysterical amnesia, induced by his need to escape from uncomfortable realities, something they found was often typical of “those with Hess’s unstable personality”.  All concluded the amnesia was temporary and would vary in intensity, the US doctors suggesting it may even disappear were any threat of punishment removed.

Caricature of Rudolf Hess at the first Nuremberg Trial by New Zealand-born UK cartoonist David Low (1891-1963).

The author Rebecca West (1892–1983) covered the trial as a journalist and wrote some vivid thumbnail sketches, noting of Hess: “Hess was noticeable because he was so plainly mad: so plainly mad that it seemed shameful that he should be tried.  His skin was ashen and he had that odd faculty, peculiar to lunatics, of falling into strained positions which no normal person could maintain for more than a few minutes, and staying fixed in contortion for hours. He had the classless air characteristic of asylum inmates; evidently his distracted personality had torn up all clues to his past.  He looked as if his mind had no surface, as if every part of it had been blasted away except the depth where the nightmares live.”  Whether or not Hess was "mad" (as such folk were described in 1946) can be debated but to many at the time, he certainly looked a madman.

Predictably unconvinced, Hess’s counsel at a hearing on 30 November 1945 told the bench a defendant could hardly stage an adequate defence if unable to remember names or incidents vital to his case, adding that on the basis of discussions with his client, even if he understood the words, Hess was incapable of grasping the significance of the charges against him.  Nor would a trial in absentia be fair because it would constituent a “grave injustice” were a defendant not present to give evidence or challenge the testimony of witnesses.  He concluded by requesting proceedings against him should be suspended and resumed only if his condition significantly improved.  To that, the British countered with a lengthy lecture on the distinctions in English law between amnesia & insanity and seconded the Soviet view that participation in the trial (and thus the need to make a defence) might well cure his condition.  Essentially, the British argued if he could follow the proceedings, he was fit to stand trial.  The US team noted Hess had at times claimed to be suffering amnesia while in captivity in England between 1941-1945 and on other occasions admitted the condition was simulated.  In the slang of the English criminal bar: “He had a bit of previous”.  The Americans also expressed annoyance at him having repeatedly refused any of the treatment prescribed by the Allied doctors, concluding: “He is in the volunteer class with his amnesia”.  The lawyers having finished, the IMT asked Hess if he wished to speak on the matter.  Without delay, he rose in the dock and walked to the microphone where he addressed the court in a clear and calm voice, his statement coherent, unambiguous and, most historians have concluded, clearly premeditated: “Henceforth my memory will again respond to the outside world.  The reasons for simulating loss of memory were of a tactical nature.  Only my ability to concentrate is, in fact, somewhat reduced.  But my capacity to follow the trial, to defend myself, to put questions to witnesses, or to answer questions myself is not affected thereby.  I also simulated loss of memory in consultations with my officially appointed defence counsel. He has therefore represented in good faith.”

He then sat down in what was described as a “stunned courtroom”.  It was at that point the trial’s most sensational moment and after taking a few seconds to digest things, the assembled press pack in their dozens rushed outside to file the story (the US military newspaper Stars and Stripes ran the punchy headline “Hess Nuts. Fake Story Fake”).  Immediately, the president of the IMT adjourned the session and the judges went into private session to decide whether Hess should be tried.  From their subsequent interviews and writings it appears they were not much influenced by Hess’s unexpected statement but were impressed by the similarity of the conclusions offered by the doctors, the chief US prosecutor saying such “unanimity of medical opinion” was, in his experience: “historically unique”.  All eight judges agreed Hess was fit to stand trial and, after being convicted on two counts ((1) conspiracy to wage aggressive war and (2) waging aggressive war), he was handed a life sentence and would remain incarcerated until in 1987 he committed suicide after some 46 years behind bars, the last two decades of which were served as the sole inmate (guarded buy dozens of soldiers on rotation from France, the UK, US and USSR) of Berlin’s sprawling Spandau Prison, a huge facility designed to accommodate hundreds.

Low’s take on the official German line explaining Hess deserting the German government as “madness”.  This cartoon does represent what was then the prevailing public perception of the typical behaviour expected of those in “lunatic asylums”.  Depicted (left to right) are:

Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945): Committed suicide by by crushing between his teeth an ampule of a potassium cyanide (KCN), smuggled into his cell in circumstances never confirmed, shortly before he was to be hanged after being convicted on all four counts ((1) Conspiracy to wage aggressive war; (2) Waging aggressive war; (3) War crimes and (4) crimes against humanity.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): With his wife Eva (née Braun; 1912–1945) of a few hours, committed suicide (he by gunshot and KCN, she by KCN alone) with the tanks of the Red Army only a couple of blocks from the Berlin Führerbunker.

Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945): Committed suicide by hanging (by means of suffocation) himself in his cell in Nuremberg prior to the trial after having for some years made a reasonable attempt to drink himself to death.  He died with his underpants stuffed in his mouth.

Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945): Hanged at Nuremberg after being convicted on all four counts.

Dr Joseph Goebbels: With his wife (Magda Goebbels (née Ritschel; 1901-1945), committed suicide (by gunshot) in the courtyard above the Führerbunker, shortly after they’d murdered their six young children.

Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945): Captured by the British while attempting to escape disguised as a soldier, he committed suicide using an ampule of KCN concealed in his mouth.

Whether Hess was at any point insane (in the legal or medical sense) remains debated although, as is often the case, more interesting still is the speculation about just when the instability began.  Whether any credence can be attached to the official statement on the matter from the Nazi Party is doubtful but in the view of Reich Chancellery, his madness predated his flight to Scotland in 1941 (one of the strangest incidents of World War II (1939-1945)).  What the German press was told to publish was that Hess had become "deluded and deranged", his mental health affected by injuries sustained during World War I (1914-1918) and that he'd fallen under the influence of astrologers.  Just to make that sound convincing, the police conducted a crackdown (a well oiled technique in the Nazi state) on soothsayers and fortune-tellers.  Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) wasn't consulted before the "madness" explanation was announced and he seems to have been the only senior figure in the regime to grasp the potential implications of revealing to the public that for some time the country's deputy leader had been mad.  Others though did make the connection.  When Hermann Göring tried to shift the blame to aircraft designer and manufacturer Willy Messerschmitt (1898–1978) because he'd provided Hess a twin-engined Bf 110 Zerstörer (destroyer (heavy fighter)) for his flight, the engineer responded by saying Göring was more culpable because he should have done something about having someone unstable serving as Deputy Führer.  Göring could only laugh and told Messerschmitt to go back to building warplanes and, as it turned out, the strange affair was but a "nine day wonder" for not only did the British make no attempt to use Hess's arrival on their soil for propaganda purposes (which astonished Goebbels) but other events would soon dominate the headlines.  The only place where the strange flight left a great impression was in the Kremlin where comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) for years mulled over who within the British establishment might have conspired with Hess to allow the UK to withdraw from the conflict, leaving Germany able to invade Russia without having to fight on two fronts.  Historians have concluded the reluctance by the British to use for propaganda the arrival of Hess was their concern comrade Stalin might suspect collusion. 

Arthur Sinodinos, b 1957; Liberal Party functionary and minister variously 2007-2019; Australian ambassador to the US 2019-2023, right ) presenting to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025, left) his credentials as Australia's ambassador to the US, the White House, Washington DC, February 2020.

Less dramatic but perhaps medically even more remarkable than the Hess affair was the recovery from amnesia by Arthur Sinodinos, a case which deserves to enter the annals of academic psychiatry & neurology (and debatably, those of the thespians).  In Australia, royal commissions are public investigations, established by but independent of government.  Not a court, royal commissions are created to enquire into matters of public importance and, within their terms of reference, have broad powers to conduct public & in camera hearings; they can call witnesses, compelling them (under oath) to provide testimony and they deliver recommendations to government about what should be done, consequent upon their findings.  These can include recommendations for legislative or administrative changes and the prosecution of institutions or individuals and they’re of great interest because they appear to be the only institution (at least theoretically) able to compel a politician to tell the truth.  Even that power is limited though because when appearing before royal commissions, politicians seem especially prone to suffering amnesia, an obviously distressing condition which compels them frequently to utter phrases like “I can’t remember”, “I don’t recall”, “not in my recollection” etc.  In the lore of the New South Wales (NSW) bar, Mr Sinodinous, while in 2014 being questioned by an enquiry, is believed to have set a record for the frequency with which the condition manifested.  Fortunately, the enquiry handed down no adverse findings against him and almost immediately, his memory appeared miraculously to recover, enabling the Australian Liberal Party government to appoint him ambassador to the US in 2019 so there's that.  The following transcript is wholly fake news:

Donald Trump: "What did you and Joe Biden talk about?"

Arthur Sinodinous: "I can't remember."

Donald Trump: "Not to worry, he won't remember either."

In the rich slang of the NSW bar, the condition once known as RCM (Royal Commission Memory) is now also referred to as “Sinodinos Syndrome”, on the model of “Marcinkus Syndrome” which describes the medical status of Roman Catholic priests who, being investigated for this, that or the other, although seemingly fit and healthy, are never able to be certified quite well enough to be interviewed by police or other authorities.  The condition is named after Archbishop Paul Marcinkus (1922–2006; President of the Institute for the Works of Religion (the “Vatican Bank’) 1971-1989).

Lectern

Lectern (pronounced lek-tern)

(1) A reading desk in a church on which is placed the Bible and from which lessons are read (as a lection) during a church service.

(2) A stand (usually with a slanted top), used to hold a book, papers, speech, manuscript, etc, sometimes adjustable in height to suit the stature of different speakers.

1400s: From the late Middle English lectryn, from the Middle English lectron, lectrone and the early fourteenth century lettorne & letron, from the Middle French letrun, from the Old French leitrun & lettrun, from the Medieval Latin lēctrīnum from the Late Latin lēctrum (lectern), from lectus (from which English gained lecture), the construct being the Classical Latin leg(ere) (to read) (or legō (I read, I gather)) + -trum (the instrumental suffix).  The Latin legere (to read (literally "to gather, choose") was from the primitive Indo-European root leg- (to collect, gather) which begat derivatives meaning "to speak” (in the sense of “to pick out words”).  In linguistics, the process by which in the fifteenth century the modern form evolved from the Middle English is called a partial re-Latinization.  The related noun lection was from the Old French lection, from the Latin lēctiōnem, a form of lēctiō, again from legō.  A long obsolete meaning was “the act of reading” but it endured in ecclesiastical use in the sense of (a reading of a religious text; a lesson to be read in church etc (ie the idea of something read aloud from a text “sitting on the lectern” as opposed to sermons and such, delivered from the pulpit).  It was a doublet of lesson.  The noun & vern lecture (something often delivered from a lectern comes from the same Latin source.  Lectern is a noun; the noun plural is lecterns.

Crooked Hillary Clinton (in pantsuits), on the podium, behind the lectern, during her acclaimed lecture tour “The significance of the wingspan in birds & airplane design”.

Some words are either confused with lectern or used interchangeably and in one case there may have been a meaning shift.  In English use, a lectern was originally a stand on which was placed an open Bible.  Made usually either from timber or brass (depending on the wealth or status of the church), they were fashioned at an angle which was comfortable for reading and included some sort of ledge or stays at the bottom to prevent the book sliding off.  A pulpit (inter alia "a raised platform in a church, usually partially enclosed to just above waist height)" was where the minister (priest, vicar, preacher etc) stood when delivering the sermon and in many cases, there were lecterns within pulpits.  Pulpit was from the Middle English pulpit, from the Old French pulpite and the Latin pulpitum (platform).  Podium (inter alia "a platform on which to stand; any low platform or dais") was a general term for any raised platform used by one or more persons.  A lectern might be placed upon a podium and in an architectural sense most pulpits appear on a permanent structure which is podium-like although the term is not part of the language of traditional church architecture.  Podium was from the Latin podium, from the Ancient Greek πόδιον (pódion) (base), from the diminutive of πούς (poús) (foot) and was an evolution of podion (foot of a vase).

Behind what is now the world’s best known lectern, Karoline Leavitt (b 1997; White House Press Secretary since 2025) responds to a question.

In formal settings, the US use often prefers podium and one of the world's more famous podiums is that used for the White House's press briefings, a place that has proved a launching pad for several subsequent, usually lucrative, careers in political commentary.  Some press secretaries have handled the role with aplomb and some have been less than successful including Donald Trump's (b 1946; US president 2016-2021 and since 2025) first appointee Sean Spicer (b 1971; White House Press Secretary & Communications Director 2017), whose brief, not always informative but often entertaining tenure was characterized as "weaponizing the podium", memorably parodied by the Saturday Night Live crew.  

Lindsay Lohan (during brunette phase) at a lectern some might call a rostrum, World Music Awards, 2006.

A dais (inter alia "a raised platform in a room for a high table, a seat of honor, a throne, or other dignified occupancy, such as ancestral statues or a similar platform supporting a lectern or pulpit") is for most practical purposes a podium and thus often effectively a synonym although dais probably tends to be used of structures thought more grand or associated with more important individuals (dead or alive).  There's also a literature detailing support of or objections to the various pronunciations (dey-is, dahy-is & deys-s), most of which are class or education-based.  Dais was from the Middle English deis, from the Anglo-Norman deis, from the Old French deis & dois (from which modern French gained dais), from the Latin discum, accusative singular of discus (discus, disc, quoit; dish) and the Late Latin discum (table), from the Ancient Greek δίσκος (dískos) (discus, disc; tray), from δικεῖν (dikeîn),(to cast, to throw; to strike).  It was cognate with the Italian desco and the Occitan des.

A rostrum (inter alia "a structure used by dignitaries, orchestral conductors etc") is really a lectern with a built in dais.  It's thus an elaborate lectern.  Rostrum was a learned borrowing from the Latin rōstrum (beak, snout), the construct being from rōd(ō) (gnaw) + -trum, from the primitive Indo-European rehd- + -trom.  The early uses were in zoology (beak, snout etc) and naval architecture (eg the prow of a warship), the use in sense of lecterns a back-formation from the name of the Roman Rōstra, the platforms in the Forum from which politicians delivered their speeches (the connection is that the Rōstra were decorated with (and named for) the beaks (prows) of ships famous for being victorious in sea battles.

The ups and downs of the greasy pole: 10 Downing Street's prime-ministerial lectern.  The brace of cast iron fittings on the doorstep were there so people could scrape the mud and muck from the soles of the boots before entering the house.  They were in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries a common sight because, like most cities, London’s streets often were an agglomeration of dirt, mud, horse shit and worse.  These days marketing departments would conjure up enticing product names for the things but commerce used to be punchier and, unambiguously, they were advertised variously as “boot scrapers”, “door scrapers”, “shoe scrapers” or “scraper irons”.  Paved streets mean the fittings are now mostly redundant although Number 10 has seen many "boot lickers" (one or two rewarded with a life-peerage and seat in the House of Lords).  Unlike a few recent prime ministers, the boot scrapers have proved durable.

The Times of London published a hexaptych noting the evolution of the prime-ministerial lectern which has become a feature of recent British politics, especially since the increase in the churn-rate.  Whether any psychological meaning can be derived from the style of the cabinet maker’s craft is debatable although some did ponder the use of a dark stain for Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) and the twisted plinth of that made for Liz Truss (b 1975; UK prime-minister Sep-Oct 2022).  The Times did however note a few things including the modest origins of the concept in the lecterns used by Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007) and later by Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010).  Then, the lectern was a simple, off-the-shelf item on dually castors ("casters" in the US and "dually" means each having two wheels, the term borrowed from the US truck market where dual rear-wheels are used on vehicles above a certain load capacity rating although "the look" is popular and often appears on pick-ups rarely used to cart anything) familiar to anyone who has endured PowerPoint presentations and the cables trailing over Downing Street were a reminder of those (now almost forgotten) times when WiFi wasn’t sufficiently robust to be trusted even a few steps from a building.  Also commented upon was that unlike his most recent predecessors who enjoyed their own, custom-made lectern, Rishi Sunak (b 1980; UK prime-minister since 2022) had to use a item recycled from Downing Street stocks (not so bad because in Australia, sometimes prime-ministers are recycled).  Number 10 didn't have a chance to commission a new one because the premiership of Liz Truss was so short (a not quite Biblical "50 days & 49 nights") and her demise so sudden; in her photograph, the fallen autumnal leaves do seem poignant.

Weaponizing the podium: SNL's (NBC's Saturday Night Live) take on then White House Press Secretary & Communications Director Sean Spicer, 2017.