Breakdown

Breakdown (pronounced breyk-doun)

(1) Of machines, a breaking down, wearing out, or sudden loss of ability to function efficiently; something, typically a vehicle or other machine that has experienced mechanical failure.

(2) In political science (of societies), economic collapse, societal fracturing etc.

(3) In mental or physical health, a form of collapse (figurative & literal), associated typically (1) with a sudden worsening of physical health (although that may be the culmination of long-existing issues) or (more commonly) mental stability, resulting in an inability to carry on normal activities; an instance of these manifestations.

(4) In relationships (personal or institutional), a fracturing of previous feelings or arrangements between parties; a failure of or within a relationship; often as a prelude to a “break-up”; a failure or loss of organization in a system.

(5) An analysis or classification of something; division into parts, categories, processes etc; a separation of a thing into components; decomposition, fragmentation.

(6) The detailed categorization, itemization or listing of the components of a thing (usually in printed or digital form).

(7) In biology & chemistry, the natural process of decomposition; specifically in chemistry, the breaking of chemical bonds within a compound to produce simpler compounds or elements; an instance of this.

(8) In physics, the sudden (sometimes damaging) transition of an electrical insulator to a conductor when subjected to a sufficiently strong voltage, caused by the partial or complete ionization of the insulator; an instance of this; also, the minimum voltage at which this occurs.  The classic example is an electric discharge passing through faulty insulation or other material used to separate circuits or passing between electrodes in a vacuum or gas-filled tube.

(9) In bodybuilding, gym routines etc, the “drop set” (a weight training technique).

(10) In veterinary use (equine medicine), injury to a horse's leg causing lameness; an instance of this.

(11) In rugby union, the short period of open play immediately after a tackle and before and during the ensuing ruck (and, to some extent, the maul). 

(12) In film, television (and such) production, a detailed description of a forthcoming project or screenplay which identifies all the required elements, such as the cast, costumes, equipment, props, special effects etc (separate from financing aspects likely also to involve multiple breakdowns, often on spreadsheets).

(13) In forestry, an act of splitting logs of wood using a large saw in a sawmill; the saw used or (rarely) the building in which the process is carried out (use of the term uncommon outside New Zealand.

(14) In music, a part of a piece of a composition that differs from other parts in that it features improvisation or is stripped down (played using fewer instruments or performed by a soloist).

(15) In music, a synonym of “percussion break” (a percussion-focused segment of a song, interpolated through cutting, mixing, and other techniques in order to create “rhythmic music”).

(16) In music, (especially the ominous-sounding sub-genres metalcore, grindcore, & deathcore (the distinction best explained by experts)), a section of a song, characterized by a lower tempo, greater “heaviness” and intensity of sound.

(17) In music, a loud, lively dance from folk traditions, historically conducted usually in a rural setting, most prevalent in the US, south of the Mason-Dixon Line; the terms  “hoedown” & “shindig” are related; a piece of music played for such an event, historically especially the rapid bluegrass tunes featuring the five-string banjo.

1832: The construct was break + down.  Break was From the Middle English breken, from the Old English brecan (to divide solid matter violently into parts or fragments; to injure, violate (a promise, undertaking etc.), destroy, curtail; to break into, rush into; to burst forth, spring out; to subdue, tame (the past tense of bræc & past participle of brocen), from the Proto-West Germanic brekan, from the Proto-Germanic brekanan (source also of the Old Frisian breka, the Dutch breken, the Old High German brehhan, the German brechen and the Gothic brikan), from the primitive Indo-European root bhreg- (to break).  There evolved strong linguistic links with brick, brake & breach.  The thirteen century past tense “brake” became archaic but the past participle “broken” endured, the shortened form “broke” in use by at least the mid 1300s and said by the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) to be “exceedingly common” during the eighteenth & nineteenth centuries.  The alternative form is the hyphenated break-down and in scientific use the two spellings can be applied for different purposes.  Breakdown is a noun; the noun plural is breakdowns.

Poster for Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1989).

The early nineteenth century use was in the sense of “a collapse, a falling apart”, and was of machinery or mechanical processes; the use in metal health (as “nervous breakdown”) documented in the medical literature since 1866 but clinical or oral use may have a longer history.  As a transitive verb, the phrase “break down” was in use by at least the late fourteenth century (in the sense “take down by breaking” while as an intransitive verb (“come down by breaking”), use seems to have emerged in the late 1820s.  As early as 1856 the use is attested in the sense of “to fail through incapacity, excess emotion etc” and this presumably influence the adoption a decade later in the context of discussing mental health (it was in the mid nineteenth century something recognizable as “psychiatry” (in the modern understanding) began to evolve.  The noun (specifically of machinery) was in use by at least 1838 while the meaning “an analysis in detail” emerged in US management jargon in the mid 1930s, based on the notion of “breaking a process into its component parts to permit better analysis of both the pieces and the whole” (an extension of the verbal phrase in use earlier in the decade in the sense of “analyze, classify”.  The American folk dance tradition of “a noisy, lively dance sometimes accompanied by singing” was documented by 1864 but historians suggest the musical form dated back decades and was recorded in writing only when witnesses from the North were documenting conditions in the South towards the end of the US Civil War (1861-1865).  Breakdown became a common element in formation (breakdown crane, breakdown lane, breakdown lorry, breakdown truck, breakdown point, breakdown voltage, climate breakdown, electrical breakdown, mental breakdown, nervous breakdown, organizational breakdown, structural breakdown, supply-chain breakdown etc.

World Rugby's Laws of Rugby Union (2026 edition).  Although the word “breakdown” is not used, the rules (14, 15 & 16) regulating the well-known concept are detailed on pages 68-80.

Because just about any object could be broken, “break” widely was adapted, even serving (of paper & fabric) a la the later senses of “cut”, “tear” or “divide” although in Old English the sense of a broken bone was always “brecan”.  The intransitive sense of “be or become separated into fragments or parts under action of some force” dates from the late twelfth century, extending within decades to “make a first and partial disclosure” while the idea of “lessen, impair” was current by the late 1400s.  The sense of in some way to “destroy continuity or completeness” was from at least the 1740s while in 1882 the phrase “to break” is recorded in reference to physical currency (ie convert large denomination banknotes or coins into smaller units of the same total value).  Although in principle rugby union remains a simple game (once with a four-page rule book), under the auspices of the wise men of the IRB (International Rugby Board, 1886-2014) and later the equally diligent men & women of World Rugby (since 2014), the core rule book is now a hefty 100-odd pages so while it remains simple (relatively speaking; it’s a game of “shapes” rather than “angles”) to play, it’s quite a challenge for referees and as an example, during a breakdown, one referee might find a half-dozen transgressions to penalize while another would “allow the game to flow”, the latter approach preferred by most spectators.  In those hundred pages, the word “breakdown” doesn’t appear but that aspect of the game is covered by rules 14 (Tackle), 15 (Ruck) & 16 (Maul).

The figurative sense of “breaking someone’s heart” (although in modern medicine it’s now acknowledged people can “die from (figuratively) broken heart”) was in use by the late 1300s and other such adaptations included “break bread together” (share food) (late 1300s); “break ground" (to dig or plough land for agricultural purposes) (1670s and by 1710 that literal use was extended figuratively to mean “begin to execute a plan”)."  To break the ice as to “overcome the feeling of restraint in a new acquaintanceship” and was from the late 1500s, the reference being to the “coldness" of encounters of strangers.  The familiar break wind (the sanitized form of “a fart”) was documented in the 1550s but, farts being more ancient, use could have predated that.  The also familiar “to break (something) out” could come from anywhere but was recorded in the 1890s as dock-worker’s slang describing freeing cargo prior to unloading.  The ironic theatrical good luck incantation “break a leg” was definitely in use early in the twentieth century and similar forms exist also in Italian & German.  According to some sources, in the seventeenth century it was used euphemistically (of a woman) to convey “to have a bastard child.”

Cup of char.  Under the Raj, the ritual of the "tea break" in the Indian Civil Service became codified (time span; size of cup according to the official's grade of employment).

The thirteenth century noun use (act of breaking, forcible disruption or separation) came from the verb but apparently not until the late 1500s was it customary to speak of “daybreak” or “break of day” but that notion was by the 1720s in use with the meaning “a sudden, marked transition from one course, place, or state to another”.  The first meal of the day (ie when one “breaks one’s overnight fasting)” was by the mid fifteenth century routinely called “breakfast”.  The sense of a “short interval between spells of work” began in schools in the 1860s and the concept came widely to be applied (sport, employment etc) and was sometimes codified in rigid forms (by the Indian Civil Service’s “tea break” in 1911 and the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) in broadcasting in 1940).  The meaning “stroke of luck” (widely used: “lucky break” or “give me a break”, “never give a sucker an even break” etc) is believed derived from billiards (a game in which the “opening break” (first shot) scatters the ordered balls and is attested from 1865).  The use in music began in the 1920s when jazz musicians began to refer to “improvised passages or solos” thus, the idea being something that was a “break” between structured sections.  The original dance form called “breakdown” (defined by the OED as “a riotous dance, in the style of the negroes”) was probably from some time in the nineteenth century but definitely was from south of the Mason-Dixon Line although element of the style probably can be identified in the folk traditions of many cultures.

Raygun Breaking.

Australian breakdancer (breaker) Dr Rachael “Raygun” Gunn (b 1987), during her much-discussed “highly original” performance at the 2024 Paris Summer Olympics.  Between 2020-2026, Dr Gunn was a lecturer in the Department of Media, Communications, Creative Arts, Language & Literature at Macquarie University Faculty of Arts, Sydney, Australia.  Her Ph.D thesis (2017) was titled Deterritorializing Gender in Sydney's Breakdancing Scene: A B-girl's Experience of B-boying in which she explored “The intersection of gender and Sydney's breaking culture”.  The Ph.D was in the (obviously wide) field “cultural studies” but after her appearance in Paris was publicized, on X (formerly known as Twitter) there was much comment about universities conferring “doctorates in break dancing” being a sign of decline in academic standards.   

The more modern “breakdance” seems to have begun in New York City in the 1970s; it was when DJs (disc jockey) played exclusively the “rhythmic break sections from pop-dance songs” and crowds danced accordingly, originally presumably impromptu but the discipline later evolved into choreographed structures.  If, upon entering a room, one sees breakdancing in progress, one’s comment to one’s companion should be: “We are among barbarians.”  Break dancing was included as a “sport” in the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris although the participants are said to prefer it be called “breaking” and the appearance in Paris is thought to have been an attempt to seek the younger demographic not attracted by the charms of “Olympic traditions” such as Greco-Roman wrestling.  The reaction was mixed and, at this time, Breaking is not on the schedules of either the 2028 (Los Angeles) or 2032 (Brisbane) games.   

Although “down” can be used also as a noun, verb, adjective & preposition, as an element in the noun “breakdown”, it operates as an adverbial particle.  What it does is modify the meaning of the verb “break” (in this sense “indicating separation or failure” to create the new noun.  In this context (in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition), the pre 1000 down was from the Middle English doun & doune (down), from the Old English dūne (down), an aphetic (loss of a word's initial unstressed vowel) form of adūne (down, downward), from the earlier ofdūne (down (literally “off the hill”), the construct being of- (of, off) + -dūn(e) (hill, mount, dune, down).  Influencing the development from directional phrases to prepositions were the Old Frisian adverb dene (down (literally “(to the) floor”)), the Middle Low German dāle (down, downwards (literally “(in/to the) dale/valley”) from which the German Low German gained dal (down).  The form was cognate with the Scots doon (down) and can be compared with the Saterland Frisian deel (down (literally “to/into the dale”)) and the West Frisian del (down).  The familiar meaning “in a descending direction, from a higher to a lower place, degree, or condition” was inherited from a late development in the Old English that produced a shortened form of the earlier ofdune.  While in general Germanic, this sense development of “hill" uniquely was English.  As a preposition used to mean “in a descending direction upon or along”, use dates from at least the late fourteenth century.  As an idiomatic form, the uses in English of “down” (both literal and figurative) are legion.

Satirical engraving LADIES! LADIES! Mystery of Modern Modesty, Fun magazine, 12 March, 1870.  At the time there was a national debate about the operation of the Matrimonial Causes Act (1857) and the Women's Property Act (1870).

The 1857 Act created a Court of Divorce and Matrimonial Causes and it was in many ways an advance in women’s rights in that it made divorce more accessible but there was an inherent unfairness (something perhaps not surprising in a law emerging from an all-male parliament).  While, as before, men could divorce their wives on the basis of adultery alone, a woman was compelled to prove not only her husband’s adultery but also an additional cause (one or more of cruelty, desertion, incest, rape, sodomy or bestiality).  It was a sexual double standard, the origins of which can be traced to Biblical scripture and reinforced in law the notion a woman's infidelity was inherently worse than that of a man.  Despite that hurdle, the acts did make things slightly better for women in that for the first time there was statutory protection ensuring a divorced woman’s future earnings and property were shielded from claims by an ex-spouse.  Gradually, other reforms further improved things but what didn’t change until the “no fault” principle to some degree civilized divorce proceedings was that the act made “break-ups after break-downs” into a spectator sport and there were tabloid newspapers with sometimes pages of coverage of the antics of the famous or the more salacious conduct by others.

Breakdownism is legal slang referencing the “no-fault” principle existing in many jurisdictions as grounds for divorce.  First becoming popular during the 1970s, it essentially created “divorce on demand”, a reform that has had far-reaching effects (both good and ill) and is thus far thought the “final state” of Western divorce law; certainly it’s an advance “contested” divorces (often highly entertaining matters for others than the parties whose infidelities were being publicized, sometimes with appropriate photographic evidence.  The classic “contested divorce” was a creature of the old Matrimonial Causes Act (1857); prior to that a “complete divorce” permitting remarriage almost always required a private Act of Parliament, a procedure expensive and highly public.  It was also time-consuming, demanding (1) proceedings in an ecclesiastical court seeking an order of separation, (2) in the case of a husband seeking divorce, a successful action for “criminal conversation” (damages against the adulterer) in a common-law court, (3) a correctly drafted private divorce bill introduced into the House of Commons (“first reading”), (4) debate(s) on the bill (“second reading”) that might see the matter (5) “referred to committee for consideration”, (5) a vote in on the bill (“third reading”) that, if passed would see the bill (proposed law) sent to “the other place” (House of Lords) for (6) three readings, possible committee stages and a vote.  If the bill survived all that, it became an act and upon (7) royal assent being granted (by a monarch or their representative (governor, governor-general etc) it was valid law and the divorce had happened.  The subsequent (8) “gazetting” (publication in the Government Gazette) was merely procedural.

So one really had to want a divorce and have the means to obtain one; given all that, it’s not surprising wives and husbands were sometimes murdered as a “work-around”.  One handy solution was however available to certain colonial administrators resident in places where the Islamic Sharia courts operated, applicants often finding the judges much more sympathetic to men wishing quickly to rid themselves of now unsatisfactory wives.  The concept of “breakdownism” ended most of the legal entertainment and the notion of “irreconcilable differences” became the standard expression cited as grounds for divorce.  Regrettably, the tale of one eighteenth century bishop “bribing or persuading" a parliamentary draftsman to insert in an innocuous (and thus not diligently scrutinized) bill the line: “the Bishop of xxx is declared divorced” appears to be apocryphal and may have begun as an illustrative example of the supremacy of parliament over sovereign & church before becoming a “legal legend”.  It probably is a good thing members of the House of Lords no longer debate whether or not to grant someone a divorce because that would at times have meant Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) having a vote and the thought of him opining on matters of the conduct and personal morality of others is something to ponder.  The term “meltdownism” is non-standard and used of those for whom “having meltdowns” seems a calling or who obviously “stage” them as a tactic.

Barnes Auto advertising, circa 1939.

In business before World War I (1914-1918) Barnes Auto operates a towing business in Brisbane, Australia, their trucks still adorned in striking blue and orange stripes.  Around 1937, the decision was taken to build a “streamlined breakdown lorry” and while designers in Europe and the US had for some years been applying aerodynamic techniques to heavy trucks, most were produced to improve average speeds and lower fuel consumption on (relatively) high-speed, long-distance routes.  Influenced by advances in aviation, streamlining since the 1920s increasingly had appeared on vehicles on both sides of the Atlantic, the best remembered the grand prix and LSR (land-speed record) machines but stylists (with and without wind-tunnel data), applied the techniques both to mass-market and expensive vehicles so trucks were a logical subject for study given the importance to operators of time and running costs.  Whether Barnes Auto’s 78 HP (horsepower) breakdown lorry, geared as it was to suit its purpose, would often have attained speeds at which the presumed aerodynamic advantages would have rendered either better performance or economy is dubious and the shape may have been more an art deco inspired “rolling advertisement” rather than a piece of functionalism but, if that was the case, it worked because it appears to be the only Brisbane “tow truck” of the era to have survived as a feature in the photographic record.  Certainly, compared with other trucks at the time on the road, the blue & orange striped machine must have been eye-catching.

Barnes' Breakdown Lorry fully loaded, three behind, one in front.

Lorry is of uncertain origin but thought most likely from the dialectal English lurry (to lug or pull about, to drag).  The use emerged in the early to mid-nineteenth century and was applied initially small carts or wagons (both hand propelled and horse-drawn), use quickly extending to the open carriages used on railroads to haul goods or commodities.  In much of the English-speaking world, from the early twentieth century, use transferred to motorized vehicles used for the same purpose and that made sense because the earliest powered lorries literally were the same “carriages” with an engine and drive-train added.  “Lorry” in that sense endures in some places in the old British Empire (notably in India & Pakistan where the linguistic inheritance of the Raj remains strong) but in many places (certainly North America), “truck” (and other specialized forms) became preferred.  Even in some places where use of “lorry” lingers, it's now often a sometimes rare niche word describing freight-vehicles larger than “pick-ups” but smaller than “trucks”.  In Australia and New Zealand, it's possible “lorry” may go extinct as those who grew up with the word age and die.

“Tugboat Annie”, waiting for a breakdown needing a tow, Mankato, Minnesota, US, 1937.

The coach-built body was created by (the still operating) Watt Brothers of Wolloongabba on a 1938 Dodge two-ton truck chassis, shortened, reinforced and converted to full forward control.  Although new to Brisbane, similar lines had been seen in US, notably on “Tugboat Annie”, built in Mankato, Minnesota and based on a 1937 International cabover tow truck; presumably such things provided the template followed by the Watts.  The 78 HP, six cylinder engine (one of the variants of Chrysler’s long-serving “flathead six, 1924-1963), was connected through a series of reduction gears via a double-faced clutch to a double jib hoist capable of a ten-ton lift with the lifting and trailing gear arranged so four vehicles simultaneously could be towed: three at the rear, one in front, an apparatus now unlikely much to impress Australian regulatory.  There doesn’t appear to be footage of the breakdown lorry on the move with four broken–down cars attached (three to the rear, one in front) but it would have required a driver with skill and experience, especially to handle the behaviour of the one ahead, the whole ensemble presumably acting like something centrally “hinged”.  On aspect that would have assisted in that was the outstanding visibility the styling afforded a driver, the extremities of the load being a critical thing to monitor.  Because of the four-vehicle capacity, an impressive 600 feet (183 metres) of wire rope was carried, the location of the connection-points on the towed vehicles an important factor in maintaining directional control while in movement.  The Breakdown Lorry served throughout World War II (1939-1945) and wasn’t replaced (by a conventionally styled, English-built, crew cab Dodge) until the mid 1950s.  Regrettably, Barnes proved unsentimental about retired equipment and once deemed obsolete, Breakdown Lorry was sent to a local rubbish dump, meaning an improbable piece of art deco history was lost but, because of the evidence in photographic archives, the distinctive lines attracted the model-makers, Autocult releasing one in 1:43 scale.

The Breakdown Lorry with Douglas DC-3, Brisbane International Airport, circa 1942 (colorized image).

In Australia, the DC-3 was operated by the RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force), Ansett Airlines, TAA (Trans Australia Airlines, ANA (Australian National Airways) and a myriad of smaller operators.  Produced mostly between 1936-1945, over 600 were built; robust, economical to operate and with an admirable safety record, it was for years a mainstay of civil aviation and General Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961), who often travelled in one while Supreme Commander Allied Expeditionary Forces (1943-1945), reckoned the DC-3 was one of the tools (others including the bazooka and Jeep) that made Allied victory in World War II possible by 1945.  The DC-3 in the photograph is "Kyilla" (registered as VH-UZJ), the first one imported into Australia (the invoiced cost Aus£41,000).  Delivered in November 1937, it flew with AoA (Airlines of Australia, an operator that in 1931 originally traded as NEA (New England Airlines) before in 1942 being absorbed by ANA).  Between 1939-1940, Kyilla was leased (“temporarily impressed” the wartime terminology) to the RAAF to cover a “delivery gap” and in 1943 it commenced regular service in ANA.

Autocult's 1:43 scale model.

Trucks in the era were anyway low-geared (in some jurisdictions, above a certain gross weight, maximum speeds as low as 30-40 mph (50-70 km/h) sometimes were imposed but the gearbox in the Barnes Breakdown Lorry had an unusually low ratio first-gear (a so-called “stump puller” of the type often seen in agricultural vehicles), enabling it to ascend even the steepest grades, allowing vehicles to be recovered from hilly terrain.  The apparatus used for the double jib hoist must have been intriguing to see and the mechanism, developed in-house by Barns was fine piece of engineering, combining intricacy with robustness while eschewing needless complexity.  In that it followed the maxim on design and problem-solving coined by German architect Professor Heinrich Tessenow (1876-1950): “The simplest form is not always the best, but the best is always simple.”  That was a refinement of novacula Occami (Occam's razor), a principle attributed to the English Franciscan friar, theologian & philosopher Guillelmus de Ockham (William of Ockham circa  1287–1347).  Occam’s razor (the idea one of “cutting away the unnecessary”) recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements; on that basis it was styled also as lex parsimoniae (law of parsimony), often glossed as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitate (Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity).  Even today the mechanism on a tow truck is a fine example of Professor Tessnow’s maxim being applied with brutish efficiency although modern regulations mean something as intriguing as Barnes’ “four strand” arrangement can no longer be used.

One of the many curiosities in English is despite “up” & “down” being diametric opposites, “break down” and “break up” can mean the same thing.  In human relationships, it’s not uncommon for a “break-up” of a couple to follow a “break-down” in their relationship but when applied to physical objects, some are said to be “broken down” while others are “broken up”, despite the processes being conceptually much the same.  The apparent anomaly is explained by the history of the industries involved and conventions of English.  As a general principle, of objects, “break down” means “to dismantle something into its constituent parts or to reduce it to a simpler state”, meaning the term is used to emphasize fragmentation, destroying the integrity of something as a single object.  Despite that, the convention in the business of “shipbreaking” (literally “cutting apart” vessels and using the metal as “scrap”) is of being “broken up”.  The origin of shipbreaking dates from the nineteenth century when the iron and later steel that had come to be used for the structures was valued as scrap metal after a vessel’s economic life had ended.  This involved sometimes dozens of workers stripping fittings from hulls before progressively cutting or demolishing what remained, section by section, until nothing recognizably nautical remained.  In the industry and in news reports, even then the process routinely was referred to as “breaking up”. 

Putting up a final struggle: HMS Vanguard aground on the way to the wrecker's yard to be broken up, Portsmouth Harbour, England, 4 August, 1960.

Launched in 1946, Vanguard was the RN's (Royal Navy) last dreadnought and no nation has since commissioned a battleship.  In the space of a half-century, the battleship shifted from the most powerful military weapon on earth to a white elephant and despite use of the word “battleship” during Donald Trump's (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) recent mention that the USS Defiant would be the first of the new “Trump Class” of surface warships, the USN (US Navy) will not be launching any true “battleships”, the service having in 1992 struck from the list the last of the four Iowa Class ships commissioned between 1943-1944.

Obviously, shipbreaking, while in a sense a well-planned and careful “disassembly”, was an act of “total and final destruction”, the many pieces of metal sent to be “melted down” before being transformed into something else (not necessarily another ship).  That use of the term was different from the process undertaken by mechanics or technicians when “breaking down” a piece of equipment. Something done typically to effect repairs or maintenance, the emphasis very much on a carefully ordered process, disassembly most systematic because all or some of the components removed would need to be restored to their original positions when the thing was “put back together”.  So that’s how the conventions emerged: (1) “breaking up” a destructive process and (2) “breaking down a step in processes of repair, maintenance or upgrades.  Deconstructing the elements at the etymological level, there’s no reason why the terms couldn’t have been applied the other way round but, by patterns of use, the idiomatic forms became fixed.

A Lindsay Lohan “meltdown scene”, The Canyons (2013).

In the furnaces fed by the shipbreakers, to “melt down” was literally to bring scrap metal to its melting point, meaning it flowed like a liquid and could be cooled to form into shapes able to be re-used (plates, bars, beams etc).  In the post-war years, “meltdown” (first in this context recorded in 1963) ominously became familiar as the graphical encapsulation of what would happen to at least a large part of the core of a nuclear-reactor were the fuel elements subject to inadequate cooling.  The idea was the highly radioactive core would become so hot it would “melt down”, through the floor to the earth below.  Depending on the thickness of the facility’s concrete floor a core could in theory do exactly that but extending the idea to the popular description “China syndrome” was fanciful.  That idiom was based on the notion that if one (in Europe) kept digging a hole, eventually they’d dig “all the way to China” (“China” a synecdoche for “other side of the world”).  In many places the geography would have been dubious but so too the geology; even by 2026 the deepest hole ever dug remains Hole SG-3 (Kola Superdeep Borehole) in Russia’s Murmansk region.  Begun as a Soviet scientific project in 1970, by 1989 it achieved a vertical depth of 12.7 kilometres (7.6 miles) into the Earth's continental crust at which point the project had to be abandoned because temperatures at the drill bit had reached 180°C (356°F), much hotter than the expected 100°C (356°F).  At that level, rock becomes too soft successfully to drill.  Technically, the 12.7 km depth was a remarkable piece of applied engineering but to put the “China Syndrome” into perspective that’s around 0.2% of the way to the planet’s centre (the Earth's radius is some 6,371 kilometres (3959 miles)).

The “Elephant's Foot”, Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, Ukraine.  It came more to resemble a boot but when first identified, it was though to be more “pachydermish”.

So, in a nuclear meltdown, a core would have a long way to go and, in the most infamous example to date, the core didn’t get even to the Earth’s surface.  In April 1986, reactor 4 of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant (in Ukraine, then one of the constituent SSRs (Soviet Socialist Republic) of the Soviet Union (1922-1991)) exploded after a serious of procedural errors in what was, with the darkest irony, supposed to be a routine “safety test”.  When the heat of the core passed the “critical point of no return” the meltdown started, the core (a molten, toxic, lava-like mixture of uranium fuel, graphite, steel and concrete (“corium” in the jargon) melted through the bottom of the reactor vessel, flowing through pipes, corridors, and steam suppression pools inside the building.  The core did however stay completely within the facility’s basement levels (made from thick concrete) and it remains radioactive although it has now cooled to the point where it’s possible to stand relatively close without receiving a dangerous dose although, uranium being almost inert, if left undisturbed, when (10 billion years from now) our Sun expires (having “burned up” the fuel sustaining its nuclear fusion) some 25% of it will remain extant and the Elephant's Foot will be about as radioactive as its weight in bananas.  A banana contains Potassium-40 and is about as radioactive as a typical carrot or potato but other foods are more so, Brazil nuts by a factor of more than three.

Bruno Ganz’s “Hitler’s meltdown scene” in Downfall (2004).

In informal use, “meltdown” is used of sudden declines in stock prices or other undesirable “sharp market corrections” but the most popular use is of “dramatic performances” (of grief, rage, despair etc) consequent upon a sudden loss of control over one’s feelings or behavior.  Mothers will be familiar with meltdowns by their toddlers, typically over life-changing issues such as not getting an ice cream or the television being switched-off.  On screen, one of the most famous depictions of a meltdown was the performance of Swiss actor Bruno Ganz (1941-2019) as Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in Downfall (2004), a study of the characters in the Führerbunker during the “last days of the Third Reich”.  The performance inspired an entire genre of “Hitler Rant Parodies”, the quality of which is “patchy”.  Hitler’s meltdown came during a military briefing after learning Waffen-SS (Armed SS) Obergruppenführer (general) Felix Steiner (1896–1966) had failed to assemble the forces to launch a relieving attack Hitler had ordered against the Red Army formations besieging Berlin.  That was by then militarily impossible but the unwelcome news induced in Hitler a legendary rant of several minutes during which he ranged against those he thought responsible for his predicament, notably the army’s officer corps and even the previously trusted SS.

The SS (ᛋᛋ in Armanen runes; Schutzstaffel (literally “protection squadron” but translated variously as “protection squad”, “security section" etc) was formed (under different names) in 1923 as a Nazi party squad to provide security at public meetings (then often rowdy and violet affairs) and was later re-purposed as a personal bodyguard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  The SS name was adopted in 1925 and during the Third Reich the institution evolved into a vast economic, industrial and military apparatus more than two million strong to the point where some historians (and contemporaries) regarded it as a kind of “state within a state”.  The Waffen-SS (armed SS (ie equipped with military-grade weapons)) existed on a small scale as early as 1933 before Hitler’s agreement was secured to create a formation at divisional strength and growth was gradual even after the outbreak of hostilities in 1939 and it was the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941 which triggered the Waffen-SS’s expansion into a multi-national armoured force with over 900,000 men under arms.  As well as the SS’s role in the administration of the many concentration and extermination camps, the Waffen-SS was widely implicated in war crimes and crimes against humanity.  Towards the end of the meltdown, Hitler, with tears in his eyes, admitted the war was “lost”, something that was by then (or should have been) obvious to all in the bunker.  Although only two of those who witnessed the meltdown survived the war to tell the tale (Generaloberst (Colonel General) Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945 and Generalfeldmarschall Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; chief of OKW 1938-1945)), such was the volume it was heard by many in an adjoining room and historians agree Ganz’s performance captured the moment.

Soccer

Soccer (pronounced sok-er)

(1) A form of 11-a-side football played between two teams, in which the spherical ball may be advanced by kicking or by bouncing it off any part of the body (excluding the arms and hands unless re-starting the game by throwing in the ball from the sideline), the object being to score points by putting the ball in the opponent’s goal-net. The special position of goalkeeper may, within certain positional limitations, use their arms and hands to catch, carry, throw, or stop the ball.

(2) In the slang of Australian Rules Football (AFL, the old VFL), to kick the football directly off the ground, without use of the hands.

1888: A coining in British English, a colloquial term for Association Football, the construct presumably (As)soc(iation football) +c+ -er.  The other forms were socker (1885) & socca (1889), the first known instance of "soccer" noted in 1888, the word coming into general use between 1890-1895 and it evolved from slang to a standard noun.  The special verb use (soccered & soccering) happens in Australian Rules Football and describes a player kicking the football directly off the ground, without the use of the hands.  The forms soccerer & soccerist both mean “a soccer player” but are now used only humorously.  Soccerplex (a sports complex with facilities for playing soccer but with other ancillary (other sports, training, gyms, commercial outlets etc) installations is a word unique to North America.  A Socceroo is a member of the Socceroos (the Australian national soccer team, the construct being socce(r) + (kanga)roos.  Soccermania describes an intense enthusiasm for soccer which may manifest as an obsessive interest; the forms soccermananic and soccerology are both non-standard but have been used in the context of the afflicted.  Soccermania differs from soccer hooligan (or football hooligan, exemplified by the violent Italian “Ultras”) in that it doesn’t usually manifest as violent or anti-social behaviour.  Soccer is a noun & verb, soccerplex, soccermania, soccerer & soccerists are nouns, soccered & soccering are verbs and soccerlike is an adjective; the only noun plural in even occasional use is soccerplexes although plurals of the derived forms (soccer fields, soccer players, soccer balls, soccer clubs etc) are common.  

The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought usually to have been borrowed from Latin –ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  Usually, the –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun and if added to a noun it usually denoted an occupation.  However, there was also the special case of the “slang –er”, which etymologists sometimes call the “Oxford –er” because of the association (though not the origin) of the practice with the university in the nineteenth century.  The slang –er was used as a suffix to make jocular or convenient formations from common or proper names and appears to first have been English schoolboy use in the 1860s before entering the vernacular via its introduction to Oxford University slang from Rugby School, the Oxford English Dictionary even identifying the first documented instance “at University College, in Michaelmas Term, 1875".  The first coining was probably rugger (the game of Rugby) and constructs on the same model include brekker (breakfast), fresher (freshman), leccer (lecture), footer (football), fiver (five-pound note) and tenner (ten-shilling note).  The practice continued in the twentieth century and some coinings endured in the plural such as preggers (pregnant), bonkers (behaving as if bonked on the head) and starkers (stark naked).  Given it was originally the work of schoolboys, some have expressed surprise they didn’t instead render a verbal shorthand of “Association Football” in a form using “ass” (although at Oxford briefly it was used as assoccer before quickly being truncated).

Football-type games have been documented for centuries and it seems likely something similar was probably played in prehistoric times on occasions when young people congregated but the point of Association Football was that in 1863 it codified a set of rules, allowing structured competitions to be formed.  Prior to that, clubs and schools played many variations of the game and this caused difficulties when the young men met at university, finding no general agreement on the rules.  Those at the University of Cambridge did create their own rule book but it was one of many, this proliferation leading to the formation of the association, the discussions eventually producing not only the rules of what would emerge as modern football (soccer) but also the schism which saw some schools and clubs go in another direction and play what became known first as rugby football and later simply rugby.  Later still, when it suffered its own schism and the professional code rugby league emerged, the name “rugby union” was used to distinguish the original and to this day the clipped terms “Rugby” & “Union” remain in use.

To most in the US, the word "football" means something different than in much of the world so it's not clear what Lindsay Lohan thought she was being invited to when Carolyn Radford (b 1982; Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Mansfield Town Stags) extended the offer of a seat at a match.  It’s not known if Ms Lohan did manage to catch a game but the promise of her presence clearly inspired the players because the Stags, then languishing in the non-League (fifth level) division of the English football league system, in 2024 gained promotion to League One (the old third division).  

In most parts of the world, the game is known as football but in places where other forms of (closely or vaguely) similar ball sports had become popular and referred to either officially or casually as “football”, soccer was adopted as the preferred term for what was, at the elite level, a minority sport.  Thus in the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa & Ireland the game came to be called soccer although, in New Zealand, beginning in the late twentieth century, “football” increasingly supplanted “soccer”, the assumption being that because the volume of overseas matches televised (with the native commentary) vastly exceeded that of local content, the word became accepted.  Additionally, because the rugby codes (historically rugby union and increasingly after the 1980s rugby league so dominated) and the common slang was “footy” rather than “football”, the latter in that sense never achieved the critical mass needed to entrench use.  Globally, the cultural and economic impacts of soccer have long been obvious.  Although Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977; president of the Royal College of Physicians 1941-1949) thought England eventually would be remembered for her school of physics and lyric poets, the less romantic Sir Richard Turnbull (1909–1998; long serving UK colonial administrator) told Denis Healey (1917–2015; UK defence minister 1964-1970) that “…when the British Empire finally sank beneath the waves of history, it would leave behind it only two monuments: one was the game of Association Football, the other was the expression ‘fuck off’”.  

"Fuck off" has of course flourished in Australia and in some suburbs conversations without it being heard at least once are rare but the adoption of "soccer" was different.  It was different in Australia because of Australian Football which, while occasionally called “Aussie Rules” has long been commonly known as football (or footy) so the round-ball game became soccer and the name Socceroo (the construct being socce(r) + (kanga)roo)) was adopted as the official name for the national team.  In Japan, where the dominant influence on the language in the twentieth century was the US, the most common form is サッカー(sakkā, from soccer).  In the US, a hybrid (with a few unique innovations) of rugby and association football emerged and was soon more popular than either.  The early name was “gridiron football” but in the pragmatic American way, that quickly became simply “football” although curiously, “gridiron” has survived among many foreign audiences.  Realizing the linguistic battle was lost, the USFA (United States Football Association), which had formed in the 1910s as the official organizing body of American soccer, in 1945 changed its name to the USSFA (United States Soccer Football Association) before deciding the advantages of product differentiation should be pursued, deleting entirely any use of “football”.  The other great US contribution to the language was the “soccer mom”, an encapsulation of a particular (usually white), middle-class demographic describing (1) a woman who often drives her school-age children to sporting activities and (2) in a quasi-disparaging sense, a white, middle-class woman who obsessively talks of her children’s successes and achievements.  There are derivative terms such as soccer dad & ballet dad but they’ve never achieved the same cultural traction.

At least some of those involved professionally with structural linguistics are football fans (maybe even afflicted by soccermania) and a number have discussed the soccer vs football phenomenon.  In most cases, the pattern of use easily is explained by the history of use in different parts of the world and the general tendency for “football” to be applied to the other sports in which kicking a ball is a part.  What however most interests those of a certain age is that the use in England of “soccer” seems now really to upset some people.  However, those old enough to remember the way things used to be done recal that as late as the 1970s, nobody seemed concerned about such things with “football” and “soccer” being used interchangeably.  All seem to agree the origin of “soccer” is uncertain but the use of the element “soc” from “association” is the most plausible explanation, despite the pronunciations not aligning.  Anyway, until there’s evidence of another origin, it’s thought to be soc(c) + -er and all agree the word definitely first was used at the University of Oxford as a coining by students.  By at least the mid-1880s it was appearing in print in various parts of England (the short-lived variant spelling “socker” thought a product of oral transmission and that may have seemed to make sense given socks are worn on the feet used to kick the ball), after which it spread to other parts of the English-speaking world.  The documentary evidence makes clear British newspapers preferred “football” but well into the 1980s “soccer” also often appeared, apparently without inducing many complaints.  So why in the twenty-first century is there among some in the UK an objection to hearing “their game” described as “soccer”?  Nobody seems to have linked that development to any specific event or social movement and it’s though just an example of (1) the English fans proprietorial attitude to the “world game” being “our game” and (2) a resistance to the “linguistic imperialism” of US English, a long established process greatly accelerated by the internet and social media.

The well connected Sepp Blatter (b 1936; President of FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (the International Federation of Association Football) that, for historic reasons, recognizes more countries than the UN), 1998-2015) with people he has met.

(1) With Silvio Berlusconi (1936-2023; prime minister of Italy 1994-1995, 2001-2006 & 2008-2011).

(2) With Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001).

(3) With Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022).

(4) With the FIFA World Cup trophy (which hasn’t been a "cup" since 1974 when the finals were contested by 16 teams (expanded to 24 1n 1982, 32 in 1998 and 48 in 2026)).

(5) With Vladimir Putin (b 1952; Russian president or prime-minister since 1999).

(6) With Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; prime-minister of Israel 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022).

(7) With David Cameron (b 1966; UK prime-minister 2010-2016).

(8) With Sheikh Mohammed bin Hamad Al-Thani (b 1988; chief of Qatar's 2022 World Cup Bid).

(9) With Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955, French president 2007-2012).

(10) With Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (b 1954; Turkish president or prime-minister since 2003).

(11) With Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).

(12) With Kevin Rudd (b 1957; Australian prime-minister 2007-2010 & Jun-Sep 2013).

Unlike some sports where the influence of technology or improvements in this and that are so significant it verges on impossible usefully to compare players from different eras, probably few would disagree that among sports administrators, Sepp Blatter has achieved some of the most extraordinary things.  In office as president of FIFA between 1998-2015, Blatter devoted much of his time (and FIFA’s money) to building his power base among football’s influential in Asia and Africa.  This attracted some comment from the football community in places like Europe and South America but it was in May 2015 he really made the headlines when a joint operation by the US Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and Swiss investigators staged a raid on the Zürich hotel where FIFA were about to conduct their annual congress.  Seven FIFA executives were arrested and charged with racketeering & money laundering while a further seven officials and sports-marketing figures were indicted by the US DoJ (Department of Justice) for offenses reaching back more than two decades.  Shortly afterwards, the DoJ revealed four other executives and two companies had already pleaded guilty in the international probe, which involved the payment of some US$150 million in what were alleged to be bribes and kickbacks.  Despite it all, two days after the arrests, Blatter was re-elected president by nearly a two-thirds majority of the 209-member FIFA voting body.  Contrary to the president’s expectations, a public outcry ensued which in just a few days escalated so rapidly that Blatter called for a special session of the FIFA congress to be convened, vowing to resign once a successor had been elected.  In October 2015, following the announcements of further investigations of Blatter’s conduct, FIFA’s ethics committee suspended him from the organization for 90 days, appointing an acting president.

Two months later Blatter was found guilty of ethics violations and barred from football-related activities for eight years.  Some of the charges were pursuant to a US$2 million payment Blatter made in 2011 to Michel Platini (b 1955; president of UEFA (Union des associations européennes de football (Union of European Football Associations), the peak body controlling football in Europe) 2007-2015), the supporting documentation associated with the payment said to be about as extensive as what might be in the petty-cash tin, stapled to the receipt for a packet of biscuits.  Platini had long been assumed to be Blatter’s designated successor.  Blatter appealed the decision and in February 2016 FIFA’s appeals committee reduced the ban to six years, a ruling upheld by the CAS (Tribunal arbitral du sport (Court of Arbitration for Sport)) in December.  Under new FIFA President Gianni Infantino (b 1970; FIFA president since 2016), further investigations were undertaken and in December 2020, FIFA filed a criminal complaint against Blatter relating to his role in the FIFA Museum project before, in March 2021, citing financial wrongdoing in the payment of huge “bonuses”, imposing a fine of just over US$1 million and extending his ban from football for a further six years, beginning as soon as the original ban expired in October 2022.  That was bad enough but his life appeared to be getting worse when, in November 2021, Swiss authorities brought to trial fraud charges associated with the falsification of documents relating to the mysterious payments to Platini.  Some eight months later, Blatter and Platini were cleared of all charges.  Sepp Blatter has achieved extraordinary things.

Rigger

Rigger (pronounced rig-er)

(1) A person who rigs.

(2) A person whose occupation is the fitting of the rigging of ships.

(3) A person who works with hoisting tackle, cranes, scaffolding (the protective or supporting structures on or around construction sites) etc.

(4) A mechanic skilled in the assembly, adjustment, and alignment of aircraft control surfaces, wings, and the like (eg parachute rigger); a person skilled in the use of pulleys, lifting gear, cranes etc.

In rowing, a bracket on a racing shell or other boat to support a projecting rowlock or other fixed fulcrum.

(6) In digital animation, one whose occupation is to outfit a computer model with controls for animation.

(7) One who rigs or manipulates (an election, a market etc); a cheater.  A rigger need hot however be doing something unlawful; the gerrymander is a form of rigging electoral outcomes by manipulating divisional (constituency, electorate etc) boundaries, a process usually within the law, even if scandalously so.  

(8) A plastic bottle of beer, typically between with a volume between 1.0-2.5 litres (1-2.6 quarts) (New Zealand).

(9) In (usually graphic) art, a long, slender, pointed sable paintbrush for making fine lines etc; said to be so called from its use for drawing the lines of the rigging of ships.

(10) In the BDSM (Bondage, Discipline (or Dominance) & Submission (or Sadomasochism)) community, a person who applies (a word in this context with a wide vista) functional or artistic rope or strap bondage to another person's body (technical competence required because some role-playing activities involve a participant "hanging by a strap"); within the community, the coordinate terms are "rope bunny" & "rope bitch".

(11) A cylindrical pulley or drum in machinery.

(12) One whose occupation is to lift and move large and heavy objects (such as industrial machinery) with the help of cables, hoists and other equipment.

1490s: The construct was rig + -er.  Rig was from the Early Modern English rygge, probably of North Germanic origin and related to the Danish & Norwegian rigge (to bind up; wrap around; rig; equip), the Swedish dialectal rigga (to rig (harness) a horse) and the Faroese rigga (to rig; to equip and fit; to make function”).  The source was perhaps the Proto-Germanic rik- (to bind), from the primitive Indo-European rign- reig-, & reyg- (to bind) or it was related to the Old English wrīhan, wrīohan, wrēohan & wrēon (to bind; wrap up; cover) which are linked also to wry (to cover; clothe; dress; hide).  The late fifteenth century verb rig was originally nautical in the sense of "to fit (a ship) with necessary tackle; to make (a ship) ready for sea" and gained the extended sense of "dress, fit out with, furnish with, provide (with something) emerged in the 1590s; that of "to adjust, put in condition for use, set in working order" is from circa 1625.  Rigger is a noun; the noun plural is riggers.

The slang meaning "pre-arrange or tamper with results" is attested from 1938, although the noun rig (a trick, swindle, scheme) had been used as early as (1775) and, apparently unrelated was the meaning "sport, banter, ridicule" dating from 1725.  The phrase “to rig the market” was used, firstly in stock exchange slang and later more generally to convey the idea very familiar in modern times: "raise or lower prices artificially to one's private advantage".  One use as a verb which faded was that meaning "ransack", from the 1560s.  It’s strange rig & rigger took that long apparently top evolve given rigging was known as a verb meaning "action of fitting (a ship) with ropes” circa 1400 and as a noun meaning "the ropes that work the sails of a ship" from the 1590s but it may be rig and rigger in this context existed in oral use.  The use in nautical & naval architecture to describe the "distinctive arrangement of sails, masts etc on a ship; the characteristic manner of fitting the masts and rigging to the hull of any vessel" (without regard to the hull) was documented from at least 1769 although a number of sources insist the first use was in 1822, probably because that’s the earliest known reference in the archives of the UK's Admiralty.

By 1843, use of "rigger" had extended to costumes and clothing outfits (especially if as a fanciful description).  In engineering, it was widely used to describe just about any creation added for some purpose but was by 1831 most associated with horse-drawn vehicles and this was later adopted to refer to trucks, buses etc, a use still common today, especially for large units.  In oil extraction, the apparatus used for well-sinking was known as a rig as early as 1875.  Rig was 1570s slang for “a wanton girl or woman" which, although long obsolete had had the odd idiosyncratic revival; it was probably related to the also obsolete use from the same era describing "to play the wanton; to romp about" (the use as a word with which to disparage women probably has never been revived because men coined or re-purposed so many others; they're spoiled for choice).  As a noun, a rigger by 1610 was "one who rigs ships", that sense later adopted to describe aircraft mechanics (1912) and those employed on oil rigs (1949).  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought usually to have been borrowed from Latin –ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  The –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun.  If added to a noun it usually denoted an occupation.

Flying Cloud (launched 1851) (1921) drawing by George Robinson, National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.

“Square-rigged” ships are those with (approximately) square sails rigged onto horizontal spars attached to perpendicular masts, sitting therefore square to the keel.  The spars are known also as yards and their tips, beyond the last point of attachment (or stay) are called yardarms, the part of a rig associated with the phrase “hung (ie hanged) from the yardarm”, in folklore the Admiralty’s preferred means of executing death sentences though practiced less frequently than the legend suggests.  The square-rig formation evolved as the standard ocean-going form because, when sailing downwind, it’s aerodynamically the most efficient shape which survived into the steam age, many of the early steam-ships (including naval vessels) constructed as hybrids which combined powered propulsion with square-rigged sails.  To reduce running costs and carbon emissions, there’s now a renewed interest in using sails (or sail-like structures) on commercial vessels to augment the power from huge engines burning the notoriously dirty marine oil (which is essentially what's left over after refineries have extracted other products (gasoline (petrol), diesel, kerosene etc from crude oil)).  Square was from the Middle English square, sqware & squyre, from the Old French esquarre & esquerre, (which persists in modern French as équerre), from the Vulgar Latin exquadra, the construct being ex- (from Middle English, from words borrowed from the Middle French, from the Latin ex (out of, from), from the primitive Indo-European eǵ- & eǵs- (out)).  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek ἐξ (ex) (out of, from), the Transalpine Gaulish ex- (out), the Old Irish ess- (out), the Old Church Slavonic изъ (izŭ) (out) & the Russian из (iz) (from, out of).  The “x” in “ex-“, sometimes is elided before certain constants, reduced to e- (eg ejaculate)) +‎ quadro, from quadrus (square), from quattuor (four).

The square-rigger MGs

1949 Jaguar XK120 (1948-1954) OTS (open two seater, the company's term for a roadster) with aluminum  bodywork.  

Jaguar went to the 1948 London Motor Show thinking their big announcement would be the new XK engine, the twin-cam straight-six which faithfully would serve the line for the next forty-four years.  What instead stole the show was the test-bed, the roadster in which it was installed; it was a sensation, the reaction convincing Jaguar's management to put it into production as the XK120.  However, tooling-up a production-line, even for a relatively low-volume sports car, takes time so the first 242 XK120s were hand-built with aluminum bodies affixed to an ash frame atop a steel chassis substantially shared with an existing model.  The sensuous shape was a blending of the flowing lines of the company's pre-war SS-100 roadster with some touches of mid-century modernism but there was almost no stylistic debt to the old “square rigger” sports cars which evolved in the 1920s and 1930s, characterized by the upright, angular lines of its many disparate parts, the point of comparison being the classic big ships of the sail age.  The term came into use in the immediate post-war years to differentiate these old-style sports cars from the new, modernist generation, typified by the Jaguar XK120, which featured lower profiles and a curvaceousness which recalled the pre-war "streamliners".  From this stark contrast came the use of "square rigger" casually to apply to any sports car of the old style, the modern Morgans the last descendants.

1958 Citroën DS19 Décapotable Cabriolet d'Usine by French coachbuilder Henri Chapron (1886-1978).

In the post-war years, the term “square rigger” came most to be associated with the T-series MGs.  Replacing the P series which in two models had run between 1934-1936, the T series was, excluding the war years, in production between 1936 and 1955, the year Citroën introduced the DS (1955-1975) which provides a comparison to the still contemporary square rigger MGs as amusing as the XK120.  Somewhere during those two decades the cars descended into obsolescence but the attraction was in their charm and the entertainment delivered; it was an intimate and tactile experience which belied their miniscule power and performance which was, at least in a straight line, modest when compared even to mundane family cars of the era.  The popularity of the T-series in the early post-war US was at least partly accounted for by many US military personnel having been stationed in England between 1941-1945, whetting US appetites for the diminutive sports cars.    

MG PA Midget (1934-1935, 1973 built)

1934 MG PA Midget.

The P series Midget replaced the rather more exotic J series and although visually the relationship to previous models was obvious, the P was well-received and thought much improved.  The new OHC (overhead camshaft) 847 cm³ (52 cubic inch) in-line four cylinder engine attracted particular praise, the revised lubrication and induction system delivering the willing and lively character well suited to a sports car.  Knowing many customers would use them for competition, MG installed a strengthened four-speed gearbox and heavy-duty clutch, drivers assisted in their ability to harness the additional performance by brakes 50% larger.  It featured also one of the first safety innovations (a thing that would in decades to come become an accelerating trend), a flat-fold windscreen made from toughened non-discolorable “Triplex safety glass".

1935 MG PA Midget Airline coupé by H W Allingham of London.

The P series was offered in the colors which would come to be associated with the marque (Ulster Green, Dublin Green, Oxford Blue, Cambridge Blue, Carmine Red & Saratoga Red) but the most popular choice remained gloss-black.  The standard factory bodies were the two-seater roadster and four-seat tourer but specialist coachbuilders made available more elaborate DHCs (drophead coupés, best thought of as "cabriolets" with more emphasis on creature comforts than the pared-down roadsters) but the most memorable coachwork was that of Allingham’s Airline Coupé although, being as expensive as many larger, more practical vehicles, few were ordered.  At the time of release, the factory listed the two-seater at Stg£220 with the four-seater an additional Stg£20; the Airline cost Stg£290.

The three 1935 MG PAs of the "Dancing Daughters".  This was a MG publicity shot taken at the Brooklands circuit, prior to the team's departure for France.

Unlike many of its predecessors, the factory didn’t envisage a competition programme for the P series but a three-car team was entered in the 1935 Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic, driven by six young ladies; although it pre-dated second-wave feminism by some decades, all-female driving teams at Le Mans were not rare in the 1930s.  Managed by Captain George Eyston (1897–1979), an English engineer, and racing driver who between 1937-1939 thrice set the world LSR (Land Speed Record), the team was promoted as “Eyston's Dancing Daughters”, a reference to a popular BBC radio programme of the time which featured a troupe of teenage tap-dancers which sounds a challenging concept for radio although, in the studio, the girls were costumed skimpily “to get the atmosphere” so that must have helped.  That such outfits were tolerated in BBC House under the regime of the supposedly puritanical Sir John Reith (later Lord Reith, 1889–1971; BBC Director-General 1927-1938) might have surprised some but years after his death, his bisexuality was revealed so clearly the seemingly austere Scot got more fun out of life than previously was thought.  Those who knew Reith would never have suspected the secret of what had once gone on behind closed doors: In his controversial diary (published 1966), Lord Moran (1882-1977; personal physician to Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) wrote of Reith as “…that gaunt old Covenanter…”  The Covenanters were a most uncompromising Scottish religious and political movement of the seventeenth century.

The Dancing Daughters and their PAs on the dock, awaiting shipment to France.  As this staged shot suggests, MG attached much importance to the publicity possibilities afforded by their all-female entry.

The six attracted much attention from the press (although one of the even then nasty Fleet Street tabloids was casually dismissive of them as “bright young things” despite all having solid credentials in racing) and the three cars lasted the 24 hours which was far from typical (in 1935, 29 of the 58-strong field was classed DNF (did not finish)).  It was certainly a testament to the toughness of the little machines, the only “mechanical” issue requiring the attention of the pit crew a blown taillight bulb suffered by car #55 and one thing which did work in the team's favor was the wet weather.  Although driving in the rain, seated in an open cockpit protected only by a small “aero-screen” (the windscreens not fitted to gain aerodynamic advantage) was not ideal, the conditions did suit the the cars, the light, nimble PA Midgets less affected than heavier machines.    

Car #55 during a refueling stop, Le Mans, 1935.  For pit crews, fireproof suits and other safety gear was many years away.

The results however were modest, the PAs under-powered for a circuit with such long straights and the team completed 152 or 153 laps compared with the 222 of the victorious Lagonda M45 Rapide.  Competing in the 751-1100 cm³ class, car #56 (Joan Richmond (1905–1999) & Eva Gordon-Simpson (1901–1980)) finished 24^th & 9^th in class; car #55 (Doreen Evans (1916–1982) & Barbara Skinner (1911–1942)) 25^th & 10^th in class and car #57 (Margaret Allan (1909–1998) & Corinne Eaton (1909-2005)) 26^th & 11^th in class.  Given the arduous circuit and more powerful opposition it was a reasonable achievement but corporate expectations may have been higher for within weeks chairman Lord Nuffield (William Morris, 1877–1963) closed the MG Competitions Department, racing activities not resumed until the 1950s.    

MG PB Midget (1935-1936, 525 built)

1936 MG PB Midget.

The Le Mans experience in part prompted the more powerful PB which was introduced in 1935, the engine enlarged to 939 cm³ (57 cubic inch) and a close ratio gearbox was fitted.  There were detail changes too, one of which a consequence of an early example of environmental legislation.  In 1935, fearing an ancient species was under threat, the US government banned the export of Sequoia redwood timber so the PB’s dashboard was instead finished in the walnut more familiar to UK customers.  Very much a transitional model, the PB was available only briefly but its debut depressed interest in the PA to the extent not even a substantial discount was enough of an inducement to buyers so the factory converted the two-dozen odd remaining PAs to PBs (a tactic Shelby American later would revisit to sell left-over 1969 Mustangs as 1970 models), both variants sold for the same Stg£222.  Production of the PB ended in February 1936.

MG TA Midget (1936-1939, 3,003 built)

1937 MG TA Midget.

Corporate restructurings are nothing new and nor is the tyranny of the cost-accountant.  In 1935, the MG Car Company was sold to Morris Motors and in the inevitable agonizing reappraisal which ensued, MG lost its autonomy, reduced to a corporate brand and one expected to deliver a better return on capital: profits had to be higher.  The first sacrifice had been the competition department, followed almost immediately by the MG design office and the cancellation of the spirited little OHC engine which had given the PA & PB so much of their sporting character.  It was a harbinger for the spirit of rationalization would over decades spread and eventually drive almost all the UK’s motor industry to extinction or into foreign hands.  Under new management, the design imperatives were now profitability, simplicity of production and uniformity in parts to maximize interchangeability between ranges.  All those things are now taken for granted but at the time of acquisition, in many aspects, MG was still something of a cottage industry and while charming, it was a method of operation not suited to the economy of the troubled 1930s.   

1938 MG TA DHC by Tickford.

The purists were thus not hopeful but the T series, released in 1936 was the first in a successful line which would be in production for a dozen-odd years, the run till 1955 interrupted only by six war years during which MG’s industrial capacity was given over to military needs.  The T might not have had the OHC engine but the OHV (overhead valve) unit which replaced it, although borrowed from a pedestrian little saloon, was a larger 1292 cm³ (79 cubic inch) and generated some 50 HP, a useful increase over the 36 & 43 the P series engines had managed and delivered it in a more effortless manner than its smaller predecessors which actually made it more suitable for both the road and in competition.  Longer and wider, the T was much more spacious and hydraulic brakes were a welcome addition, all for the same Stg£222 as the PB, something which reflected the improvements in manufacturing efficiency wrought by the corporate restructuring.  There were of course a few purists who lamented no longer being able to use their skills to coax the maximum from the highly strung OHC engine but they were a dying breed belonging to the same crew that loved the challenge of straight-cut gears and thought synchromesh effete.   

1936 MG TA Midget Airline coupé by H W Allingham of London.

The T series made the Midget suddenly quite civilized although, as part of the rationalization, the factory's offering was limited to a single two-seat roadster but separate chassis were still supplied to coachbuilders, allowing Tickford (the brand of Salmons and Sons (1830)), to produce some 250 elegant DHCs with such luxuries as wind-down windows, full carpeting and a clever "three-way" convertible top which could be closed, partially opened or fully thrown back.  The Airline style was reprised by Allingham, Whittingham & Mitchel and Carbodies and although much-admired, being still expensive, only a handful were built.  Despite the misgivings, the T proved a great success and was built until 1939 when it was replaced by the TB which included a new engine which would become one of the most storied in MG’s history: the XPAG.

MG TB Midget (1939, 379 built).

1939 MG TB Midget.

By May 1939, war clouds were gathering over Europe and Finnegans Wake by James Joyce (1882–1941) was published.  Into this strange and uncertain environment, MG released the TB, visually apparently as little changed from the TA as the PB had been from its predecessor but under the louvered hood (bonnet) now sat the new XPAG engine which would until 1955 power just about every MG made and provide numerous builders of race cars with a light, robust and tuneable power-plant, one which would see some of the specials in which one was installed exceed 150 mph (240 km/h).  Over the years, with forced aspiration and other modifications, extraordinary power outputs were achieved, the tough little engine able to withstand supercharging at pressures which broke many others.  Totally new, although at 1250 cm³ (76 cubic inch) slightly smaller, there was now a bigger bore which allowed higher engine speeds and thus a "sportier" state of tune but, under the government's dopey calculation of the time (based on cylinder bore), attracted a higher tax-rate.  With the introduction of the TB, the designation TA was applied to the earlier car which hitherto had been known simply as the T series, the same act of retrospective re-christening which had turned P into PA.  The TB was priced at Stg£225 for the 2 seater and Stg£270 for Tickford’s DHC but there would be no more of the exquisite Airlines. 

1939 MG TB Midget.

The XPAG restored some of the character of the old OHC engine, the bigger bore and shorter stroke delivering the maximum 55 HP at 5,250 rpm against the 4,500 rpm of the TA, performance generally improved in all aspects and made easier to exploit with the fitting of a new four-speed gearbox which included synchromesh on all but the lowest ratio.  The TB was in production for only a few months before the declaration of war in September; the brochures for the 1940 model-year were actually ready for printing and the range had been announced when production was abruptly halted after 379 had been completed.  Rapidly, the Abingdon factory was cleared of all the machinery of car assembly and devoted for the duration to parts for aircraft, machine guns and the servicing of tanks and trucks.  In hibernation for six years, the TB would return in what would prove to be a new world and it would be called the TC. 

MG TC (1945-1949, 10,001 built).

1947 MG TC.

On both sides of the Atlantic, the cars released in the early post-war years were almost all barely revised versions of those last available before the outbreak of hostilities.  The MG TC, the first of which left Abingdon in 1945 actually was structurally more different from the TB than most of the cars of 1945-1946 were from their predecessors of 1939-1941 because the passenger compartment had been widened by four inches (100 mm), creating additional interior space without the need otherwise much to alter the body or chassis.  Other than the up-scaling and some detail mechanical and electrical upgrades, it was essentially a re-birth of the same basic design as the TA of a decade earlier.  Despite that, just resuming production to the extent of the few dozen examples completed before the end of 1945 was something of an achievement given the chronic shortages of components, steel and other raw materials.

1948 MG TC.

Immediately, the TC proved a success.  Although the new Labour Party government  (1945-1951) was as "socialist" as the UK ever got to enjoy, it was also "realist" and understood the parlous state of the nation’s finances.  For this reason it extorted the manufacturing sector with the simple mantra “export or die” and MG responded, much early TC production allocated to the export trade.  The volume of sales to the Commonwealth’s southern dominions (Australia, New Zealand & South Africa) had been expected because these had been receptive markets in the pre-war years but what proved a pleasant surprise was demand from the United States and Canada, triggered it was suspected by the number of returning servicemen who had so enjoyed or at least yearned for the little sports cars during their wartime service stationed in the UK.  Although only 2,000 of the 10,001 TCs made went to the US, the interest was enough for the factory to do a run of US-specific models and it was the TC which whetted the American appetite for small sports cars.  In the 1950s, MG and others would benefit from what became something of a craze, one which the square-riggers and their successors would for decades exploit, success enduring long after the what was being sold was obviously obsolescent.

1950 MG TC EUX.  Although none left the factory with supplementary headlights, the Lucas Flamethrowers were a popular dealer-fitted and after-market accessory.

The “US-specific” run of TCs was a batch of 494 (some sources claim 492 or 493) EXU models produced in 1948-1949 (the EXU designation (which in the original factory documents appears also as EX-U) simply a clipping of “Export-USA”).  The variation in specification from the standard TC was a response to feedback from customers and the US dealer network, most notably in the high-density markets of Los Angeles and San Francisco, the changes making the relative small machines (and their passengers!) a little less vulnerable in urban use.  Although the bumpers fitted to US cars had not yet been forced to adopt the "battering ram-like" dimensions which would be mandated in the 1970s, even then they were big, with the additional danger of potentially intrusive dagmars so every little bit of protection helped.  The feature set included: (1) full-width chrome bumper-bars with over-riders (similar in style to those which would appear on the later TD) with MG’s octagonal medallion in the centre of the back bar, the license plate mounts front & rear centrally mounted, (2) twin taillights, (aligned with the top of the gas (petrol) tank)), flashing turn indicators (activated by a switch in the centre of the dash), (3) slightly smaller headlight housings fitted with the seven inch sealed-beam units mandated by a US law (an industry-protection mechanism (the bill reputedly written by the industry)) which for decades condemned US drivers to suffer inferior headlights) and (4) twin Lucas Windtone horns located under the hood on either side of the battery box.

1950 MG TC EXU, showing correct steering wheel and seven inch headlights.

Like all TCs, the EUXs were all RHD (right hand drive) and although the last left the factory in 1949, some were registered in the US as 1950 models.  Calibrated to 105 mph (169 km/h), the speedometer was rather optimistic for a machine usually reported as having a top speed of 77 mph (124 km/h) but the robust XPAG engine was highly tuneable and, with the right gearing, a TC could go much faster.  In Australia, one dubbed the "Red Cigar" was in 1954 fitted with a Marshall Nordec J 75 supercharger and magneto ignition, the top speed claimed to be 115 mph (185 km/h), a pace assisted by the usual weight reduction measures and some attention to aerodynamics.  For the driver, there was laminated windscreen glass, a steering wheel with a gold pearl finish rather than the traditional black, the rear view mirror mounted atop the dashboard, two map lights and the positions of the ammeter, oil-pressure gauge, ignition and light switches were changed.  Although in the collector market “special models” are highly valued and attract a premium, the EXU accounted for almost a quarter of the TCs sold in the US so they're really not "rare" but there is a following for the survivors which have all the model-specific bits still in place, the headlights and bumper-bars often having been removed because so many came to be used in competition; for those seeking more speed, the weight reduction was a quicker and cheaper path than extracting more power and didn’t risk sacrificing the famous reliability.

MG TD (1949-1953, 29,644 built)

1950 MG TD.

The TD was the most popular of the T series and was the model which both established the brand in the US and encouraged others to realize the sports car craze was real and thus a market segment to explore.  From what General Motors initially regarded as the improbable success of the TC and TD would come first the tentative toe in the water that was the Chevrolet Corvette show-car of 1953 and long line of production cars which, over eight generations since 1953, continues to this day.  The TC however was, even before being discontinued in 1949, a museum-piece, if an entertaining one, and it was clear that for MG further to succeed in the US market a more modern interpretation of the sports car would be required.  The budget was limited but the culture of simplicity of production and uniformity in parts to maximize interchangeability between ranges now proved advantageous, a small team allocated to develop a prototype using mostly what fell immediately to hand.  In what was a master-class in improvisation, they shortened by five inches (127 mm) and then stiffened the chassis of a MG YA saloon, grafted on an independent front suspension & rack and pinion steering, made the changes necessary to ensure it could easily be made with either left or right-hand drive and overlaid a (slightly) modernized rendering of the TC’s body.  The design team would have preferred to create something more sophisticated and certainly something which looked more contemporary but, given the constraints under which they worked, the TD was a good result, both as a piece of engineering and, more critically, one that made commercial sense.

1952 MG TD.

If the look remained archaic, underneath, the changes were transformative and they needed to be.  The TC’s platform was little changed from the cars of the 1930s, that had been a mere refinement of a decade-old concept; while antiquated even compared to its stop-gap contemporaries of 1945-1949, it looked prehistoric against the new generation of models which emerged early in the 1950s.  The TD’s saloon-based chassis was hardly innovative but was rigid and well-executed with a modern arrangement for the independent front suspension and a rear-end which accommodated additional travel by sweeping the frame up over the axle instead leaving it underslung while the XPAG engine differed in being derived from that used in Y type so included its improvements to lubrication and attached accessories.  The most obvious change was to the body (substantially revised for the first time since 1936) and, while the stylistic legacy was apparent, it was was considerably wider and thus more spacious.  Structurally, the engineering was carried-over, body panels still mounted on the traditional wooden frame of English ash.

1953 MG TD.

A mix then of old and new as many products are.  Even though not one body-panel was unchanged and the interior fascia was new, the aesthetic still was recognizably square-rigger with cutaway doors, separate flowing front wings, running boards, stand-alone headlamps and the characteristically upright MG radiator with vertical slats.  As had been the motif since the 1920s, a centrally hinged hood, an exposed, slab-sided fuel tank and a rear-mounted spare wheel carrier maintained the period-look.  Where modernity's intrusion was unobtrusive, such as the independent front suspension, it was welcomed but some changes attracted criticism from a few.  The sturdy chromium plated bumper-bars added weight which it had be MG’s practice to avoid but reflected the needs of the US market where sales overwhelmingly were in urban areas, owners sharing roads and parking spaces with domestic automobiles equipped increasingly with substantial bumpers made from heavy gauge steel, rigidly mounted to the chassis or frame, the protruding dagmars then approaching their fullest expression.  Also controversial were the smaller diameter, pressed-steel disc wheels which replaced that sports car staple, the TC’s tall, spindly spoked wire-wheels.  It was again the intrusion of the rationalists.  Because different wire-wheels would have had to be made to accommodate the arms and links of the rack and pinion steering, the corporation refused to authorize the design, tooling and production for a part unique to one model.  The disc wheels actually offered advantages, being much easier to clean and not as prone to the damage and distortion the wire wheels suffered when used on secondary roads.  In the years since, some have been unable to resist the charm of spokes and many TDs have been retro-fitted with wire wheels.

1952 MG TD (Eduardo Muñoz) following 1953 Porsche 1500 (Rezende Dos Santos), Vuelta de Aragua Road Circuit, Aragua State, Venezuela, 14 June, 1953.

The TD was much improved but as usual, there was a price to be paid.  Weighing some 200 lbs (90 KG) more than the TC while enjoying only the same 54 HP, the TD was less lively than its predecessor, something a change in gearing only partially disguised so for those who wished for more, in 1950 the factory made available a "competition" version with a higher compression ratio, 62 HP delivered, a useful increase of more than 10%.  Officially, the "competition" TD was sold only in markets where high-octane gas could be purchased at the pump but dealers entered into arrangements with the factory so those with access to supplies of avgas (aviation fuel) could enjoy the experience.  However, few bought TCs for their outright performance numbers and the increasing gulf between them and the ever more powerful vehicles increasingly surrounding them seems not to have much dampened demand, customers flocking to buy TDs upon its debut in 1949 and over a four-year run some thirty-thousand would be built, most destined for the US market, sales encouraged greatly by Sterling in September 1949 being devalued to US$2.80, an adjustment of around a third, correcting the absurd post-war maintenance of the Stg£1=US$4.03 peg set in 1940.  In period (and for years afterwards), a popular update in the US was a supercharger although, very much in the hot rod tradition, conversions to use cheap and numerous flathead Ford V8s were not unknown.

MG TF (1953-1955, 9600 built).

1953 MG TF 1250.

The TF was the last of the square-riggers.  It was also an accident of history, the result of corporate intrigue within the BMC (British Motor Corporation) conglomerate of which MG was one, small part and, even at the time, it was no secret the TF was a stop-gap model there to fill the showrooms with something (sort of) new before the arrival of the much anticipated MGA.  What had happened was corporate stablemate the Healey company reached the BMC boardroom with a proposal for their new 100 before MG got there to make the case for the MGA and the board, thinking it a bad idea to release at the same time two similar vehicles, put the MGA on hold.  It was emblematic of the way business would be done at BMC and the many successor corporations; Healey had pipped MG by several days, history for centuries recording how such luck influences the way events get to unfold.  Thus evolved the TF, a just slightly less-square rigger launched into the age of the Citroën DS and Porsche 356; even the Triumph TR2 of the time making cutaway doors look less archaic.  The TD obviously couldn’t be made to look modern and the facelift it gained to bridge the gap between the square riggers and the sleek MGA was a quick job, essentially grafting the streamlining techniques of the 1930s to the once upright front, the headlamps now fared-into the wings, the same expedient Morgan had that same year been forced to adopt when Lucas advised there would no longer produce the separate housings; without the demand from MG, the economics of scale to maintain the product in the low volume Morgan would absorb, no longer existed.  Mechanically, so little-changed was the TF that it could have be thought the TD Mark II had the appearance not so differed.  Visually refined with a sloping grill that for the first time concealed a separate radiator, the hood now sloped forward, something achieved by lowering the radiator housing by 3½ inches (90 mm) in relation to the top of the scuttle (cowl), the view from the screen that of a Hawker Hurricane compared to the Supermarine Spitfire-like TD.  The front wings with the now partially integrated headlamps were themselves fared into the hood's sides in conventional streamlining style while the rear end gained modifications to the fuel tank and spare wheel mounting which resulted in a neater finish.  In a nod to tradition, perhaps to distract from other changes, the revised facia panel re-gained the octagonal instrument pods of the pre-war years, a nostalgic touch very well received, as was the return of the option of wire-wheels. 

1955 MG TF 1500.

The TF in 1953 was released using the faithful 1250 cm³ XPAG engine which dated back to the TB Midget in 1939 and there were many who hoped for and expected more.  Whatever aerodynamic improvement the streamlining had delivered, the TF was still barely able to top 80 mph (130 km/h) while the Triumph TR2 tempted many with the lure of the then rare “ton”: 100 mph (160 km/h).  It was still an appealing drive with fine road-holding and handling but was, by any standards, sluggish.  Of this the factory were well aware and engineers discussed exotic solutions such as aluminum components to improve the power to weight ratio but it didn’t take much thought to work out the solution was that the Americans had taught: "there is no substitute to cubic inches".  In mid 1954, the TF 1500 was released, using a 1466 cm³ (89 cubic inch), big-bore version of the XPAG, now designated XPEG, power increased to a more useful 63 HP.  While it didn’t permit the TF to match the pace of the TR2 or other competition, almost 90 mph (145 km/h) was now possible and the XPEG did stimulate demand, almost all the 3,400 TF 1500s shipped to the US.  Probably not many in the US would much have been impressed by the idea of an additional 13 cubic inches but these things are relative. 

MGA (1955-1962, 101,970 built)

MG Factory Competition Team with three MGAs (EX 182), Le Mans, 1955.  No women drivers on the team this year.

The TF was the end of MG’s square-rigger era, the introduction in 1955 of the MGA both long awaited and much overdue.  Neither mechanically nor stylistically was it ground-breaking and even during its lifetime would come to be thought old fashioned but at the time of release the sensuous, flowing lines were much admired and in the decades since, appreciation has increased, the MGA today a desirable and attainable classic.  It was powered by a 1489 cm³ (91 cubic inch) version of the corporate 'B' series engine and as, a design exercise, had actually been finalized some two years before being introduced, slated to replace the TD before corporate politics prevailed.  By 1955, it had been intended to announce the MGA and use three pre-release cars (code-named EX 182) to contest the Le Mans 24 hour race in June.  That was thwarted by delays in the supply of parts so the three were forced to compete as prototypes rather than in the production class for which they'd been prepared.  Against the more formidable competition of pure race cars, success was unlikely but reliability was proved, one finishing an outright twelfth and the team finished a creditable fifth and sixth in their class although everything was overshadowed by the horrific crash that year at the sixth hour which killed 84 (the race allowed to continue, something which now astonishes), one of the MGs involved in the aftermath of the disaster.  Encouraged, three were entered in September’s RAC Tourist Trophy in Ulster, the fifth round of the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the International Automobile Federation) which in 1955 hadn't yet descended to being world sport's dopiest regulatory body) World Sports Car Championship, two with experimental DOHC (double overhead camshaft) engines, a configuration which later and unhappily would figure in MGA history.

1957 MGA 1500 Roadster.

First shown at the 1955 Frankfurt Motor Show, the MGA 1500 was an immediate success; 58,750 (52,478 roadsters and 6,272 coupés) built between 1955-1959, the great bulk of which were exported, the US again the most popular destination.  In 1956, the roadster was augmented by a FHC (fixed head coupé) which, in a sign of the times, included many of the refinements saloon buyers had come to expect including wind-up windows and lockable door handles which, while appreciated luxuries, did make the FHC about 100 lb (45 KG) heavier so acceleration suffered slightly but, such were the vagaries of aerodynamics that top speed increased a little, a well tuned FHC able to attain the magic ton which just eluded the roadster, the owners of which turned to the multitude of tuners if they wanted more.

1957 MGA 1500 FHC.

Having earlier boosted the 1500 from 68 to 72 HP, the factory in 1959 again gave owners more, the engine enlarged to 1588 cm³ (97 cubic inch), the new model named MGA 1600, the additional 6 HP and the more relevant 17% increase in torque meaning the “ton” was now topped by all models and there was a dramatic improvement in braking, vastly superior (and really overdue) discs fitted at front.  Revisions to the suspension were part of normal product development but what was much appreciated on the roadster were the removable, sliding side windows in Perspex, which now sounds primitive but were quite an improvement on the celluloid flaps used on the 1500. Production of the MGA 1600 totalled 29,007 (28,730 roadsters and 277 coupés).  In 1961, for the MGA’s swansong, capacity was again enlarged, this time to 1622 cm³ (99 cubic inch), additional internal changes boosting power to 90 HP, top speed now a heady 106 mph (170 km/h) and to mark the change, the factory designated the 1622-equipped cars as MGA Mark II, production of which ran to 8,719 (8,198 roadsters and 521 coupés).

The other MGA.  Lindsay Lohan in bucket hat with optical disc at MGA Entertainment's (Micro-Games America (1979)) Bratz, 2003 Teen Choice Awards, Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, California.

Actually, there was also another MGA, the IBM Monochrome Graphics Adapter (1981), the original PC graphics display which transformed the lives of the spreadsheet jockeys who were starting to live their lives inside the Lotus 1-2-3 environment.  What MGA meant was these number-crunching nerds could now see their digits on one screen and their charts on another, something which in the 2020s sounds routine but in the early days of Ronald Reagan's (1911-2004; POTUS 1981-1989) administration, was a revolution in the accounting profession.  The dual-monitor thing would go mainstream in the next century but MGA came first and the trend to two screens among accountants was paused only with the release in 1982 of the HGC (Hercules Graphics Card) which supported a simultaneous display of text and graphics.  After MGA, IBM continued to define  video standards with the release of EGA (Enhanced Graphics Array, 1984) and VGA (Video Graphics Array, 1987) but at that point things fragmented, third party suppliers developing their own specifications for SVGA (Super VGA) and IBM's subsequent releases such as XGA (eXtended Graphics Array, 1990) never became universal.  VGA (640 x 480) remains the in-built default used as a LCD (lowest common denominator) by many manufacturers of laptops and desktops, systems able to display in this resolution even in the absence of a driver appropriate for a monitor or video card.    

MGA Twin Cam (1958-1960, 2111 built).

1959 MGA Twin Cam Roadster.

In the English way of things, the most famous and celebrated of the MGAs is the least successful and the one at the time damned a failure.  The first MG since the OHC PB in 1936 not to use an OHV power-plant, the DOHC Twin Cam used an engine not fitted to any other car and in that sense of uniqueness ranks with the Triumph Stag in the annals of British engineering failures although the MG's problems were at least (sort of) excusable given the analytical tools of the time and, as ultimately transpired, easily fixable, unlike Triumph’s tragically flawed V8.  Although not used in the production MGA Twin Cam until 1958, the DOHC engine had enjoyed a long development, the basic design completed in 1954 and two prototype versions were in 1955 fielded for the RAC Tourist Trophy in Ulster; while on that occasion not successful, the factory wasn’t deterred, refining the concept and using them to set world speed records in various classes in 1956 & 1957.  Critically however, most development work was in high-speed competition rather than the conditions under which most motorists operate their cars on public roads.  Using the 1588 cm³ block, the DOHC “B” series was in the then classic mold of small-displacement European high-performance engines: an aluminum cross-flow, DOHC cylinder head operating valves angled at 80^o in hemispherical combustion chambers with a high compression ratio.  Twin 1¾ inch SU carburetors fed the induction while, on the opposing side, an imposing exhaust manifold boasted separate downpipes for each cylinder.  The impressive specification yielded a healthy 108 HP @ 6700 rpm and top speed was rated at 113 mph (180 km/h), testers reporting sparkling acceleration at all but the lowest speeds.  Cognizant of the pace, the factory fitted disc brakes on all four wheels and this time, wire wheels weren’t even optional, the required Dunlop Road Speed tyres suitable only for the ventilated Dunlop centre-lock disc wheels.  Radically different though it was under the skin, there were few visual differences to distinguish the Twin Cam from its more mundane cousins, an approach Mercedes-Benz would later adopt for its 300 SEL 6.3 (W109, 1968-1972) and 450 SEL 6.9 (W116, 1975-1981) Q-ships.  Only the purposeful wheels, discreet Twin Cam badges and some details changes to the interior (including a tachometer and speedometer that accommodated the higher limits) provided the external visual clues.

1959 MG Twin Cam FHC.

Like the Stag, the Twin Cam attracted praise upon release and, like the Stag, the reliability issues soon surfaced.  Reports emerged first of excessive oil consumption which fouled spark plugs and the factory experimented with several variations of piston rings before settling on the replacement of the top chrome ring with one of cast iron and a scraper with an expansion ring; these changes resulted in normal oil consumption.  What was not solved until the Twin Cam had been discontinued was what ruined its reputation and doomed the engine: the propensity to burn holes in the top of pistons #3 or #4.  Applying conventional wisdom, the factory first retarded the ignition timing, then, assuming owners were (contrary to operating instructions) using cheaper, lower octane petrol, lowered the compression ratio from 9.9:1 to 8.3:1, both changes reducing power in the quest for reliability, a trade-off well-known to engineers.  The sacrifice however failed to solve the problem and pistons continue to fail.  What baffled the engineers was they were unable to replicate the issue in their tests, even under sustained and extreme loadings.  Their tests however, while imposing demands beyond what any road car would be subjected to, were performed usually in a workshop, on a static test-bed.  By mid 1959, the factory gave up and the Twin Cam was withdrawn from sale, the engineers not discovering the cause until 1960 and those findings they chose not to publicize.  Later, amateurs would trace the problem to resonant vibration which, under conditions encountered when actually driving (as opposed to what happens under extreme load on a test-bed), at certain engine speeds, the SU carburetors would suffer foaming of the fuel in the float chamber which caused the fuel/air mixture to run lean, greatly increasing the heat in the combustion chamber causing the aluminum pistons to begin to melt.  The solution was no more complex than the insertion of flexible, vibration isolating mounts between the intake manifold and carburetors.  It would have been a cheap and simple fix.

1959 MGA Twin Cam FHC.  Whatever the flaws in implementation, the DOHC engine had a classic look.

In 1960, MG's engineers had reached the same conclusion.  After disassembling several engines, they noted the balance of the units was well below the levels of precision they had specified as a result of testing the prototypes, the production engines exhibiting two periods of natural vibration around 3200 and 5600 rpm.  With the stock gearing (fitted to most Twin Cams), 3200 rpm coincided with what were then typical highway cruising speeds.  So, they returned to the test bed and, instead of pushing the engines beyond their limit, instead ran them to the point of vibration and found the float on the rear carburetor would hang on its spindle and not drop, inducing a lean mixture which burned holes in either #3 or #4 piston.  In minutes they improvised a flexible mounting using nothing more exotic than some thin sheet-rubber (fitted in conjunction with Thackery washers) but the solution came too late, the discontinued Twin Cam’s reputation too sullied for a revival.  A decade on, a similar tale would be told of Norton’s lusty 750 Commando Combat. 

1962 MGA 1600 Mark II “Deluxe” Roadster.

So only 2,111 Twin Cams were sold (1788 roadsters and 323 coupés).  Making the best of a bad situation, the factory used the residual stockpile of Twin Cam bits and pieces (other than the engine) and created some up-graded models often referred to as the “DeLuxe” and while MG never formerly applied the designation, shameless dealers advertised them as the “Deluxe”, "De Luxe” or De-Luxe”.  Production was limited by the availability of parts and only 82 1600s were built (70 roadsters and 12 coupés), along with 313 of the upgraded Mk II 1622 (290 roadsters and 23 coupés).  Except for the Dunlop wheels and four wheel disc brakes, there was no universal specification, some using a genuine Twin Cam chassis, some with the “hybrid” competition shell and a mix of other options while many were essentially standard MGAs differing only in the wheels and brakes.  Because of the rarity and upgraded specification, the “Deluxe” models are now second only to the Twin Cam in desirability and, all else being equal, the more "gear" that's fitted, the more collectable the specimen.

1959 MG MGA Twin Cam “Competition” Roadster (left) and the wood-rimmed steering wheel supplied as part of the Competition package (right).

The factory also built a reputed 50 MGA Twin Cams equipped with a “Competition” package.  Intended for privateer entrants, the package included much of what had been used in factory-supported racing such as the lower, more sloped windscreen, more supportive leather seats, a close-ration gearbox linked to a differential with a 4.55:1 final drive ration and a lovely, wood-rimmed steering wheel.  As well as saving a little weight, the lower windscreen was the most obvious way to improve aerodynamics, the reduced frontal area said to increase top speed by 3 mph (5 km/h) although it did mean neither a soft-top or hard-top could be fitted, the tonneau cover offering the only protection from the elements (as well as some reduction in drag).  Usually, vehicles used in racing have engines assembled with unusual care and attention but because the MGA Twin Cam’s critical flaw manifested only when cruising on freeways within a certain speed range lower than would be experienced on race tracks, were that to be the exclusive use, it was not essential for them to be augmented with flexible mounts which prevented the vibrations and subsequent melting of the pistons.

Thackery washer with wave.

A Thackery washer is a specialized form of spring washer and in engineering jargon, the “kink” in the centre section usually is described as a “wave” or “undulation” although over the years there’s being a bit of “terminological inflation”, “notched” and “wave bend”, “offset bend”, “spring convolution” and “waisted section” have all been documented; the punchy “wave” seems the best choice.  What the wave does is create the axial spring compliance that lends a Thackery washer both its locking and preload characteristics.  They were factory-fitted on several places on MGAs and definitely one with a ⁵⁄₁₆ bore should be used in conjunction with the flex-mounts for the carburettors, the specific compression achieved by tightening to leave 25-40 thousandths of an inch (0.635 mm) between the coils.  Were non-waved spring washers to be used, the requisite degree of flatness would not be achieved and the stresses induced would thus be higher.  This should also been done on MGA Twin Cams used in competition (and is critical if they’re also driven on the road).  It’s an unusual quirk of the engine that “extreme conditions” are encountered not on race tracks at full throttle but while serenely cruising at 60-70 mph (95-110 km/h).

1962 MGA Deluxe Mark II roadster with "side screens" fitted (they were a considerable advance on the dreaded, flexible "side curtains").

What came to be called the “MGA Deluxe” was first advertised as “MGA with Competition Suspension option” (described in the factory parts books also as “All Round Disc Brakes model” or “All Wheel Disk Brakes model”) and that was reasonable because the configuration of those first built used the Twin Cam chassis but fitted with an OHV engine.  The platform did however have to be modified so the combination of the Twin Cam type master cylinders and the OHV style radiator and heater unit could both be fitted, thus the variations in the shape of the heater shelf and the radiator mounting.  As a quirk, an uncertain number of the very early–build “Deluxe” models included the removable vent panels in the front inner wings, presumably only those produced before residual Twin Cam stock was absorbed.  Production of the roadster & coupé versions proceeded over two years, during which the 1600 Mark II was introduced and many included some or all of an extensive range of equipment including the Road Speed tyres, “competition seats”, close ratio gearbox, radio, badge bar (then a big thing in England) and some of the roadsters had a bolt-on hard-top (the desirable aluminium unit by Vanden Plas and, when stocks of those were exhausted, the fibreglass version).

1962 MGA Deluxe Mark II roadster with the much admired aluminum hard-top by Vanden Plas.

All the “Deluxe” run included the oil cooler and anti-sway bar so, considering the higher level specification and price, “Deluxe” was as good a name as any and for those who prefer the rarest of anything, with only 35 of the build being coupés, that model was the MGA with the lowest build number.  The 395 "Deluxes" came at the end of MGA production, the last of both the standard and “Deluxe” editions leaving the line in June 1962 and that 395 were built was a product of the Twin Cam venture prematurely being aborted.  According to the factory’s records, MG contracted with Dunlop for the supply of at least 2,500 “kits” containing the wheels and disc brake apparatuses so when the Twin Cam was dropped there were some 400 kits in the warehouse; the “Deluxe” model was concocted just to absorb these parts and thus recoup the cost.  Presumably MG must have had more parts on hand because some would have been retained as spares but definitely the “Deluxe” was a “model of necessity” and other manufacturers later would use the same trick.