Showing posts with label Word. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Word. Show all posts

Saturday, August 8, 2026

Hikikomori

Hikikomori (pronounced hic-hee-kee-koh-moh-ree)

(1) A mode of behaviour in which an individual becomes a recluse from society, typically remaining isolated, sometimes for decades, in a single room at home.

(2) An individual exhibiting this behaviour for a sustained period.

1990s: From the Japanese noun 引きこもり or 引き籠もり (hikikomori), (literally “pulling inward; being confined”), from the verb hikikomoru (引きこもる).  The construct was 引く (hiku) (to pull, to draw back, to withdraw) + 籠る or こもる (komoru) (to shut oneself away; to remain secluded; to stay inside).  So, the literal translation is something like “to withdraw and remain shut in” but, used to mean “one who has withdrawn into seclusion”, the more common verbal shorthand is “shut in” (in the sense of “acute social withdrawal” or something in that vein).  Although once regarded as a uniquely Japanese phenomenon, it’s not now thought culturally specific, that perception a product of the condition and its extent first being widely documented in Japanese publications.  In Japan, the usual clipping is hikki.  Hikikomori is a noun; the noun plural is plural hikikomori or hikikomoris.

The element komoru is not recent; historically it referred not only to people but also generally to the concept of “being shut away or enclosed” or natural features such as a mountain at times when it was encircled by clouds or a land mass visible only at low tide (a tidal island or tombolo (a sand bar or path of dirt that connects this land to the coastline when the tide falls)).  More typically however it was use of individuals opting for whatever reason to “remain indoors” (such as those who, for religious reasons, might retreat to a mountain hermitage, either for a period of contemplation (that might last a lifetime) or to escape a society they had come to view as in some way “unsatisfactory”.  The concept of hikikomori is different in that those “afflicted” are not deemed to be motivated by a religious calling or philosophical position but instead “suffering” a visceral reaction to the condition of society or their life, manifesting as an urge to retreat from the outside world to a “safe” enclosed space.  This aligns with the modern use in psychiatry.

So use of the verb hikikomoru goes back generations but the noun hikikomori came into use only in the 1990s when the psychiatric sense was popularized in the book Shakaiteki Hikikomori: Owaranai Shishunki (Social Withdrawal: Adolescence Without End, 1998) by Japanese psychiatrist Dr Tamaki Saitō san (b 1961).  For reasons both structural and historic, it’s rare for concepts in psychiatry to have origins in Japan so hikikomori enjoys an unusual place in modern nosology (the characteristics or scientific understanding of a specific disease).  Internationally however, hikikomori “caught on” and became part of the standard jargon; that was not because there was any particular interest in categorizing uniquely Japanese phenomena but because clinicians in other places had for some time been aware the behaviour was not uncommon in their countries.  The Western media soon took an interest in hikikomoru because editors knew stories about “disaffected adolescents locking themselves in their bedrooms for years” would be good productive clickbait, readers likely to be attracted by tales of troubled geniuses or depressed emos.

The companion terms are the English language acronym NEET (Not in Employment, Education or Training) and the Japanese オタク (Otaku).  Otaku (best translated as “geek” or “nerd”, reflecting the bias in use towards computers or other tech) emerged from fandom community associated with Macross (a Japanese science fiction mecha anime media franchise), the use derived from お宅 (otaku) (you), from the honorific form (taku) (home), thus the notion of Macross being “your home” (ie one’s natural environment”).  From the Macross obsessives, use extended to “obsessive interest in something” (especially (and often exclusively) Japanese anime or manga).  While originally a derogatory term, fandom communities “reclaimed” otaku as a self-descriptor although it does continue to be applied disparagingly.  In the West, it tends to be neutral, used to refer to anyone with a strong interest (obsessive or not) in anime or manga.  NEET is applied not to all those “unemployed” but only those thought apathetic or who exhibit the characteristics of a hikikomori but in sub-groups, the play on words with the English “neat” (in the sense “excellent, desirable; interesting; cool”) prevails.

Mental Health Daily's choice of an image capturing the hikikomori experience.

The hikikomori came to be known as “the lost generation” and that it was a thing identified in the 1990s and celebrated (in a sense, that can be the right word) in Dr Saitō san’s 1998 book is interesting because it was the 1990s that came to be known as “the lost decade”).  Although there were of course the inevitable fluctuations in the growth curve, over the 40 years between 1949-1989, the trend for the Japanese economy in most indicative measures (GDP (gross domestic product), GNP (gross national product), RPP (relative purchasing power), AMWE (average male weekly earning), corporate profits, exports, trade surplus etc) tended upwards and while, given the country’s paucity of natural resources, that was an achievement in some ways even more remarkable than the Wirtschaftswunder (“economic miracle”) witnessed in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990) over the same period, the stellar performance was not without consequences and some of those consequences triggered reactions.  The strength of Japanese economy was by the 1980s producing notable distortions in the world’s production and trading systems and that of course affected currencies, as aspect of the international system distorted still further by this happening at a time when currencies weren’t allowed to “float” to the extent now familiar, governments and central banks (in some places, for this purpose, the distinction between the two institutions not significant) sometimes literally “setting the rate” by fiat.  All this required trips to Tokyo by the US Treasury Secretary to negotiate the devaluation of the US dollar and it was in the 1970s & 1980s the deindustrialization of the US economy really began, later forces such as automation, computing, the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) proving most adept at capitalism and AI (artificial intelligence) being building blocks in what continues to evolve as the “new model”.  US politicians of course responded to this by inducing Japan, the FRG and others running substantial trade surpluses with the US to shift some production to the US and that to some extent reduced the imbalances but, factories and assembly lines in the 1980s not being what they were a generation earlier, US employment levels or incomes certainly weren't restored.

The Japanese economy continued to flourish and the fear in the US was often expressed as “Japan taking over the world”.  That this might be done by the use of Japanese money was a thought bad enough but to add insult to injury, much of the money was in US dollars gained by Americans paying Japanese companies for the sort of stuff once manufactured in their now shuttered factories.  Against that threat, the world’s most potent military (a chunk of which was allocated to the defense of Japan) and an impressive arsenal of thermo-nuclear weapons able to be delivered anywhere on the planet was not a great deal of help.  What was a help was economic reality because by 1989 one part of the Japanese economy had developed into a disproportionately large bubble; at this bubble’s peak, the notional value of Tokyo real estate market was greater than the entire continental US.  Although obviously not something that could have been realized in the “real world” (ie had every piece of real estate in Tokyo been offered for sale at its nominal valuation), the numbers were indicative of one of economic history’s most notable imbalances.  In a kind of national hubris (an exuberance as “irrational” as anything seen since the Dutch “tulip bubble”), the combination of extreme over-confidence by speculators and ultra-loose credit policies by lenders had resulted in land values in Japanese cities (Tokyo the most extreme example) coming to be decoupled from economic reality (and, because of the “extrapolation effect” by which especially the value of commercial floor-space was calculated within markets), ultimately, basic mathematical reality too.

Hikikomore by 1gorman on Deviant Art.

An (extreme) example of a similar disconnection from reality would be Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) applying the metrics and methods of valuation (that for decades have served him well) to news cosmologists had used their new “big telescopes” to discover a “perfect Earth-like” planet (one of the so-called exoplanets (any planet located outside of our solar system)) a “mere” hundred light-years distant.  Obviously, this planet (or at least what it was a century ago). with an ideal climate, ample resources, stable geology etc, would contain much desirable real estate so the valuations attached to this unspoiled paradise would’ in other circumstances, be high.  There might be some uncertainly if it couldn’t be determined if the place had inhabitants (on Earth such folk have proved troublesome in land-grabs) but that’s just something speculators have to “factor in”.  The problem however is that however desirable might be the exoplanet’s lands and seas, they’re a “stranded asset” because of the distance from Earth; we cannot contemplate travelling a single light-year, let alone a hundred.

Safely tucked up: Lindsay Lohan in Hikikomori mode.

So distance can be an intrusive reality, “stranding an asset”.  That’s what the math in 1989 did to Japanese real estate values, the extrapolated numbers meaning floor space in office buildings became at once “the most expensive on the planet” and unrealizable as convertible into cash; the asset became stranded in its bubble.  Still, the frothy days of 1989 must trigger a warm glow of nostalgia among the few able to take their profits and “exit” before the crash of 1990.  When the “bubble burst”, the effects were profound because, unlike the Dutch “tulip bubble” now understood to have had relatively little long-term effect on the wider economy of the Netherlands, in Japan, the crash in the real estate market trigged a cascade of consequences affecting the stock market, over-exposed banks and the wider economy.  In retrospect, that it was a bubble seems so obvious but then, in retrospect, much often does: In 1989, the cumulative value of the Japanese property market was four times that of the US (the latter with more than twice the population and 25 times the land mass); metropolitan Tokyo alone was worth more than the entire continental US and the 1.15 km2 grounds of the Imperial Palace were valued at up to US$5.1 trillion (greater than the entire state of California).  So assets can become “stranded” in a number of ways but the concept is much the same: Whatever may appear the “book value”, if this number can never be translated to “real” economic value (not necessarily cash), that asset is stranded.  The Gaza strip is less distant from New York’s Trump Tower than the desirable real estate on an exoplanet a hundred light away but, with a population tiresomely showing no wish to go somewhere else so sea-front resorts can be built, it may as well be as distant.

Four episodes of Welcome to the N.H.K. (note the “Parental Warning” advisor stickers).

Among the most intriguing of the anime projects was Welcome to the N.H.K., based on a series of novellas by Tatsuhiko Takimoto san (b 1978).  Featuring a very anime-friendly cast of characters (with all that implies), as might be expected in a work about hikikomori, the text explored issues such as social isolation, depression, anxiety and existential dread but the novelty was the appearance of the mysterious N.H.K. (Nihon Hikikomori Kyoukai (Japan Hikikomori Association), a Masonic-like institution responsible for the increasing number of recluses “shut up” in their bedrooms.  The hook is the tale is that the N.H.K. is the shadowy creation of NHK (Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai (Japan Broadcasting Corporation)), the national public broadcaster.

What came to be called “Japan's Lost Decade” of the 1990s was marked severe economic stagnation, a “banking crisis” (bad loans left sitting on the books as if there was a prospect of repayment), a stock market collapse and deflation.  Between 1989-1991 the Nikkei 225 prime index would slump from near 39,000 to around 6,600 and in an era when many governments were fretting about apparently “entrenched” inflation, in Tokyo, what was being observed was deflation.  Central bankers at least know how to “fix” inflation (they engineer a recession), but deflation is a fabulous beast that convinces people not to spend because they know the same commodity will next week likely be cheaper; like the inverse process in an inflation-ridden state, deflation “feeds on itself” in a spiralling “feedback loop”.  Solutions proved elusive.  While central banks fighting inflation could continue raising interest rates until the pain of spending became too much for consumers, the concept of “negative interest rates” (ie one has to pay the bank to store one’s money) was of limited utility because savers’ “work arounds” to evade this would likely make the situation worse before it induced them to open the purse-strings.  Pulling the textbook off the shelf, after blowing off the dust, Japanese governments embarked on “fiscal stimulus programmes” that (with borrowed money) sustained banks continuing to loan to anyway insolvent borrowers, this creating both “zombie banks and “zombie companies”; institutions “not alive yet not quite dead”.  If anything is likely to stifle efficient resource reallocation in an economy, it’s having “zombies at scale”.  In a quirk of the uniqueness of the Japanese economy however, although government debt is now somewhere between 210-240% of GDP (the methods of calculation can vary) this is said “not to be a problem” because so much of the debt is in Yen and locally held (a benefit of all that saving induced by living in deflationary times).  Like the US government debt of US$40 trillion odd (120-135% of GDP), it may take some time before it’s confirmed whether or not these numbers are “a problem”.


Why I Became a Hikikomori (Shut-In), SillyPau explains.  Now we know.

All this happened in conjunction with GDP consistently under 1% and an aging population (a demographic trend that had become structural and continues to this day) and while those “salary men” in employment tended to remain so (although suffering “career stagnation”), the young, despite graduates being the most educated in history, faced what was dubbed the shūshoku hyōgaki (employment ice age), the jobs available for most being low paid, unstable and often non-permanent.  For a generation brought up with high expectations and a sense of unlimited possibilities, it was an unpleasant welcome to the new decade that would come to be called “the lost decade” and even that proved optimistic; by early in the twenty-first century the use had been updated to “lost decades” as the sluggishness persisted.  While it had come to be understood things were not going back to what they were in the happy days of 1989 (because what then was “was not real”), the young in particular still longed for something better.

Some continued their longing and some “just gave up”.  It was in the 1990s the “lost decade” produced the “lost generation” that came to be called the hikikomori, withdrawing from a society that seemed to offer little other than a dreary, meaningless existence.  By becoming recluses hardly ever leaving their bedrooms, maybe that was just another form of meaningless dreariness but at least it was on their terms and lent life some sense of “control”, illusory though that may have been.  According to Japanese researchers, the number of hikikomori had by 2024 grown to over a million and the phenomenon has, on a smaller scale, been noticed in other countries.  In Japan, having a million-odd modern-day hermits sitting in their bedrooms refusing to face the outside world remains unlikely to do much to stimulate the economy or the rapidly declining birth-rate.  Indeed, in mid-2026, the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications disclosed the population of domestic citizens had for the first time fallen below 120 million, a 0.76% decrease from the previous year; with 670,467 births against 1,593,475 deaths, deaths are outpacing births by more than two to one.

If something is happening in Japan, there will be anime documenting it in every aspect.  Titles include ReLIFE (2016), Recovery of an MMO Junkie (2017) and the ominous sounding Forbidden Deductions (2023).

Some have argued there is an element of technological determinism is all this.  Whether or not one chooses to label it “internet addiction”, there’s no doubt the ecosystem of the web and apps (especially hyper-realistic gaming) had made it possible as never before to lead a kind of fulfilling life without ever leaving one's bedroom.  With accommodating parents (an ample supply found in Japan) and a good internet connection, the bedroom can become one’s universe, a place without the awfulness one know lies beyond one’s four walls.  There is nothing new about those who either cannot cope with or have no wish to deal with the demands of modern society retreating to the margins but, for the first time in history, it has become possible for these recluses to exist in a rich, diverse, entertaining world that is wholly virtualized; relationships and even love affairs able to be conducted with AI (artificial intelligence) bots.  Because of the dynamics of the ways these bots can be constructed, many users (and by, implication, many hikikomori) probably find these relationships more satisfactory than anything experienced with one with a creature of flesh and blood; in many ways, for the tech industry, the COVID-19 pandemic was a “perfect storm”, contributing to some finding social isolation as “normalized”. The Japanese Government acknowledges hikikomori exists and defines it as something affecting people who have stayed at home for at least six months.

Hikikomori is discussed in the APA’s (American Psychiatric Association) DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) but not as a distinct mental disorder. Instead, it’s listed as a behavioral or psychosocial phenomenon that may occur in association with a variety of psychiatric conditions (and even, in some cases, without any diagnosable mental disorder).  In other words, the DSM treats hikikomori as a symptom rather than a pathology.  That would make sense to clinicians (if not all behavioural sociologists) and in DSM-5-TR (2022), hikikomori is mentioned in the section dealing with “Cultural Concepts of Distress”, the characteristics including (1) marked social withdrawal, (2) remaining at home (often confined to one room) for at least six months and (3) an association with significant functional impairment.  So, in the DSM, hikikomori is not classified as a separate diagnosis and clinicians are encouraged to consider whether the withdrawal is better explained by disorders such as: (1) autism spectrum disorder, (2) major depressive disorder, (3) schizophrenia spectrum disorders, (4) social anxiety disorder, (5) avoidant personality disorder or (6) OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder).  If a patient seems not a good fit for any of those, helpfully, the DSM includes (7) other psychiatric illnesses and presumably, that cohort will be thought diagnostically the most interesting.  It would not be surprising if the profession settles on an acceptance of hikikomori as something transdiagnostic, a behavioral endpoint that can arise from various causes.

The Hikikomori: The Girl Who Couldn't Go Outside (2022) by Mark Vrankovich.

There is much thematic variation in hikikomori literature, ranging from the hopeful to the nihilistic.  There are also redemption tales.  In The Hikikomori: The Girl Who Couldn't Go Outside, Miko Nishimura san is a hikikomori who has become convinced she is the most insignificant person in Japan.  Crippled by anxiety, she never leaves her bedroom, occupying just about every waking moment playing racing games (she’s a most modern girl) on her computer.  However, a crisis ensues when the batteries in her wireless mouse die during a time when her parents are absent.  It’s made clear not many things could induce Miko san to leave the house but not being able to continue her gaming was such a rare  circumstance.  Miko san should of course have had spare batteries to hand (or, better still, used a wired mouse needing no batteries) but what’s done is done and can’t be undone and she knew she was compelled to make the terrifying trip to the shop to buy new batteries. As courageously she ventures forth, what unfolds is a tale intertwining contemporary Japanese culture, ancient magic powers and the finding of love.

Although in the west there’s a long tradition of “the recluse” (from the briefly installed Celestine V (circa 1212-1296; pope Jul-Dec 1294) to the film star Greta Garbo (1905–1990) and the multi-faceted Howard Hughes (1905–1976)) when in 1998 Dr Saitō san published his book, it seemed in the West fashionable to see hikikomori as something culturally specific, an example of one of the tradition-bound syndromes that delight writers who regard “Japanese weirdness” as the last acceptable form of the “orientalism” that was for decades a standard paradigm of academic and popular analysis of stuff east of Suez.  It’s still claimed (though increasingly unconvincingly) there are many of these “Japanese” syndromes relating to fields such as education, employment the family and attitude to psychiatric treatment but the modern view is that in these matters, between Japan and other cultures (certainly in East Asia), there are as many similarities as differences.  It has also become clear hikikomori–like behaviour exists in clinically significant numbers in a number of countries including South Korea, China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Spain, Italy, France, New Zealand, Canada, the US, Australia, the UK, Brazil and India.  Despite that, it is still most associated with Japan because it was there first identified (a la the “Spanish flu” process of 1919) but there’s no doubt the conjunction of the nation’s “lost decades” and the subsequent overlays of (1) the internet, (2) social media, (3) the COVID-19 pandemic and (4) consumer-packaged AI algorithms that made possible “life-like virtual relationships” created economic and social conditions that made the phenomenon both more prevalent and visible.

Friday, August 7, 2026

Laurel

Laurel (pronounced lawruhl or lor-uhl)

(1) A small European evergreen tree, Laurus nobilis, of the Lauraceae family, having dark, glossy green leaves (known also as the bay tree or sweet bay).  Trees & shrubs belonging to (or resembling) the natural order Lauraceae are said to be lauraceous.  When used as an adjective (not in the strict botanical sense), the comparative is more lauraceous, the superlative most lauraceous.

(2) Any tree of the genus Laurus.

(3) In general use, any of various similar trees or shrubs, as the mountain laurel or the great rhododendron.

(4) The foliage of the laurel as an emblem of victory or distinction.

(5) A branch or wreath of laurel foliage.

(6) In the plural (laurels or victory laurels), an award conferred (literally or figuratively) as an honor for achievement in some field or activity.

(7) An English gold coin minted in 1619, so called because the king's head was crowned with laurel.

(8) In many color charts, a green of a darker hue.

(9) To adorn or enwreathe with laurel.

(10) To honor with marks of distinction.

(11) A female given name (there have been rare instances of male use, including as a "second name" referencing some relative).

1250–1300: A dissimilated variant of the Middle English laurer (laurel), from the Anglo-Norman, from the twelfth century Old French laurier & lorier (bay tree; laurel tree), the construct being lor (bay) + -ier, from the Medieval Latin laurārius, from the Latin laurus (laurel tree), thought related to the Greek daphne (laurel), probably from a pre-Indo-European Mediterranean language.  The French suffix -ier was from the Middle French -ier & -er, from the Old French, from the Latin -ārium, the accusative of -ārius.  It was used to form the names of trees, ships, jobs etc.  The second -r- in the Middle English laurer changed to -l- by process of dissimilation.  Laurel & laureate are nouns & verbs, laureateship & laurustinus are nouns, laureled & laurelled are verbs & adjectives and lauriferous & lauraceous are adjectives; the noun plural is laurels.

Lindsay Lohan fridge magnet by Alexanton.  Laurel Hollow is an incorporated village in Nassau County on the North Shore of Long Island, New York, within the Town of Oyster Bay (where Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) died).

The use to describe an emblem of victory or of distinction (hence the phrase “to rest on one’s laurels” (the original form was “repose upon”)) dates from 1831.  The phrase is now used used in the cautionary sense “don’t rest on your laurels”, a warning not to rely on a reputation gained through past successes but instead continue to strive and improve.  The companion phrase “look to your laurels” is an idiomatic expression (known in Antiquity) meaning one needs to be vigilant and attentive to one's accomplishments, skills or position because there will be those eager to surpass or outshine you.  Like “don’t rest on your laurels”, it stresses the importance of maintaining one’s competitive edge.  It was a bay leaf from a laurel shrub that Πυθία (Pythia, priestess of Pythian Apollo at Delphi) chewed during her prophetic trances.

Sirens and the Night (1865) by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

Although most associated with women (the feminine variants including Laura, Lauren, Lori and Lorraine), Laurel is a unisex given name.  It was related to the German Lorelie and in Germanic mythology there were several tales of the lovely maiden Lorelei (luring rock) who lived upon a rock in the River Rhine.  She lured fishermen to their deaths by singing songs of such beauty they couldn't resist, a variation of the stories of the Sirens in Greek mythology.  The Sirens were legendarily beautiful but deadly creatures who used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death.  Attracted by their enchanting music and voices, the intrigued seafarers would sail too close to the rocky coast of the Siren’s island and be shipwrecked, there to suffer a worse fate still at the hands of the hungry Sirens.  In Homer's Odyssey (an epic poem from perhaps as long ago as the eighth century BC), it was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but, forewarned by Circe and having no wish to be shipwrecked and devoured, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Then, he ordered he be tied to the mast, telling his crew that whatever he said, they were not to release him but instead tighten the knots, not cutting the bonds until the ship had sailed far from the coast.  Of course, approaching the rocks, he heard the lovely voices and implored the crew to release him but they followed their skipper’s orders, not setting him free until the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were doomed to die if a man heard their singing and escaped and, as Odysseus sailed off, they flung themselves into the waters and drowned but, among the myths, that was not always their fate.  Not untypically for the myths of Antiquity, the Sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs and thus for ships potentially lethal places although the fate of sailors was more gruesome, the Sirens devouring them.  The Argonauts sailed close to the Sirens, but, using the same principle as “radio jamming” in the twentieth century, Orpheus sang as long as the crew was within earshot of them (“drowning out their signal”), so none were lured (except the unfortunate Butes, carried away by Aphrodite after he fell victim).

#metoo: Apolo persiguiendo a Dafne (Apollo chasing Daphne (circa 1637)), oil on canvas by Theodoor van Thulden (1606–1669) after Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid.

The feminine proper name Daphne was from the Greek daphne (laurel, bay tree) and in mythology was the name of a nymph.  Etymologists conclude the word is related to the Latin laurus (laurel) although the mechanism has been lost in time.  In Greek mythology, Δάφνη (Daphne), daughter of the River Ladon (and sometimes of the Thessalian River Peneus), was a nymph with whom the God Apollo fell in love; he was provoked by Cupid, having disputed with him the power of his darts which Apollo, the recent conqueror of the Python, belittled.  When he pursued her to the banks of the Peneus, she was saved from being ravished by the god who transformed her into a Laurel tree, the origin of Apollo being so often depicted crowned with laurel leaves.  None of the writers from Antiquity seem ever to have pondered whether the nymph, had she been offered time to consider the choice between being ravished by a Greek god or becoming eternally arboreous, might have preferred to permit a slice be cut from the loaf.  While at the time not of much consolation to the unfortunate Daphne, Apollo ordained that the laurels should be the prize for poets and victors and, being, at least briefly, a sentimental chap, Apollo adopted the laurel as his favorite tree so there’s that.  The site of temples and a stadium, the Grove of Daphne was a pleasure resort of renowned natural beauty, dedicated to Apollo and located near Antioch.  

Apollo and Daphne (1622-1625), sculpture in white Carrara marble by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680), Galleria Borghese, Rome.

Being a Greek myth, there are of course variants in the tales and in a Laconian version, Daphne was the daughter of Amyclas who spent her days among the mountains where she was a favourite of Artemis.  From afar, Leucippus fell in love with her and, disguising himself as a girl, joined her companions.  Daphne became fond of him (thinking him a her), but Apollo became jealous and vowing to expose his trickery, inspired Daphne and her companions with a wish to bathe.  Leucippus, obviously, hesitated to remove his clothing, but his companions forcibly undressed him and, feeling betrayed upon discovering his identity, they attacked him, his life saved only by the gods rendering him invisible.  At this point, Apollo dashed to try to seize Daphne but she ran off and in answer to her prayer, Zeus turned her into a laurel.  Latter-day interpretations of Daphne's fate have differed.  While her name lives on as a tragic hero (the girl who gave up her life rather than succumb to a sexual assault) some feminists have criticized the notion that a victim of such a crime should be transformed into something silent and thus uncomplaining.

Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) in a “laurel leaves” hat designed by Hubert de Givenchy (1927–2018), photograph by Howell Conant (1916–1999), Switzerland, February 1962.

As an adjective, laureate (crowned with laurels as a mark of distinction) dates from the late fourteenth century and the earliest reference was to poets of particular distinction, from the Latin laureatus (crowned with laurel), from laurea (laurel crown; emblematic of victory or distinction in poetry), from the feminine laureus (of laurel).  The first known use of Laureat poete is in Geoffrey Chaucer’s (circa 1344-1400) Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) in reference to Scholar and poet of early Renaissance Italy, Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374), and it was used in Middle English of Greek fabulist Aesop (circa 620–564 BC) and, by the early fifteenth century of Chaucer himself.

In English the inverted form “poet laureate” was in imitation of Latin word order and although used informally since the early 1400s, the evidence suggests the first appointed by the state was probably (and perhaps posthumously) Ben Jonson (circa 1572–circa 1637) in 1638 although the first for whom the letters patent remain extant was John Dryden (1631–1700).  In the UK, the position of poet laureate is an honorary office in the gift of the sovereign but in these days, appointed on the advice of the prime minister; because few prime-ministers know much of poetry, they too take advice on the matter; in that, it's similar to the appointment of bishops, most prime ministers knowing as little of religion.  Curiously, although the office is not un-remunerated, the government describes it still as an “honorary appointment”, the advantage of that being summary dismissal is a simpler process should the poet start writing material unpleasing to the party in power.  It may be more correct to call it a kind of sinecure because while the expectation is the appointee will compose verse to mark moments of national significance, such things are not defined and nor are aspects such as frequency or length.  So it’s one of those “gentlemen’s agreements” which, as late as the 1950s was still a feature of the way the establishment ran the UK.  That would have extended also to Dame Carol Ann Duffy (b 1955, poet laureate 2009-2019), thus far the only woman appointed (she had the benefit of ticking several boxes for Gordon Brown (b 1951; prime minister of the UK 2007-2010): Scottish; female; lesbian).  Just for once, Gordon's stars aligned.

Opportunity missed: Dylan Thomas (1914–1953, left) and his wife Caitlin Thomas (née Macnamara; 1913-1994, right) in the bar of Brown’s Hotel, Laugharne, Wales, 1938.

For his laureateship, Dryden's was paid an annual fee of Stg£200, the inclusion in 1630 by the doomed Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649) of an annual “butt of Canary wine”, later converted into the monetary equivalent.  A butt of wine (known also as “a pipe”) had a volume of 105 imperial gallons (126 US gallons, 477 litres) and was part of the English standardized “Cask Measurement System” regulating trade in liquids between brewers, distillers, merchants and shippers.  All graduations of the defined sizes of wooden barrels were fractions of the largest standard cask (the “tun” (210 imperial gallons (252 US gallons, 954 litres)) with a butt a half-tun and a “hogshead” half a butt (52 imperial gallons (63 US gallons, 238 litres)).  However, being English, the system was complicated by a butt of ale or beer being defined as 108 imperial gallons (130 US gallons, 491 litres).  As a unit of measurement the butt was the origin of the slang term “buttload”.  The tradition of the “butt of Canary wine” was revived on the request of Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-1998) who received 720 bottles of sherry.  Being Irish, the poet Brendan Behan (1923-1964) wouldn't have been created poet laureate but the government avoided a significant charges against the exchequer by not appointing Dylan Thomas for whom 720 bottles of anything would likely not have proved sufficient.

Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017, Nobel Peace Prize laureate 2009).  The peace prize is awarded by a committee elected by the Norwegian Stortinget (parliament); it summarized the basis of their decision being President Obama's: “...extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples.”  Those skilled in deconstruction concluded the true rationale was “He is not George W. Bush” (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009)).

The poet laureate's annual payment is now “Stg£5,750 and a barrel of sherry” so it’s good gig considering there are no set hours and only the vaguest KPIs (key performance indicators).  There was a time when a poet laureate was an exalted figure but these days there’s less interest and the best remembered probably still is Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-2008) and that less for his oeuvre than calls by feminists to boycott his works because he had Sylvia Plath’s (1932-1963) “blood on his quill”.  The noun laureate came into existence in the 1520s, either as an evolution from the adjective or through a mistaken reading and laureateship has been in use since 1732.  In modern use, laureate is most frequently applied to Nobel prize winners, a use that began in 1947; while many of the Nobel laureates have been outstanding figures in their field, there have been a few about as undeserving as some of the less distinguished British poets laureate.  Of the 21 who have held the office, serious critics seem to rate only Dryden, William Wordsworth (1770–1850; poet laureate 1843-1850) and Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892; poet laureate 1850-1892) as first-rate poets.

The laurel appeared in Hymn to Proserpine (1866), a poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) exploring atheism, a theme to which he would on occasion return as he developed in verse his increasingly strident opposition to Christianity in general and stifling Victorian morality particularly.  Nominated every year between 1903 and 1909 for the Nobel Prize in Literature, his name was on the list in 1893 presented to Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) as the replacement for Tennyson as Poet Laureate but the queen vetoed him “on moral grounds” although it’s not known if she’d read or merely been told about his works discussing sado-masochism and lesbian longings.  Swinburne was of a figure of the post-Romantic disillusionment and a part of the sceptical tradition that would emerge in the nineteenth century to grow to a critical mass in the twentieth; even if not familiar with his most “disturbing” verse, Hymn to Proserpine, an address to Proserpina (in Rome, the goddess of the Underworld), lamenting that the rise of Christianity had displaced the pagan goddess and her pantheon, would alone have been enough to incur royal disapprobation.

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has
   grown grey from Thy breath;
We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the
   fullness of death.
Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day;
But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives
   not May.

The meaning is that both romantic love and artistic fame are fleeting, fragile, and bound to fade, the work a pagan perspective rejecting the idea of eternal life or permanent earthly glory.  In saying “Laurel is green for a season”, the leaves exist in their traditional symbolic role celebrating poetic glory, victory and cultural achievement but as “Love is sweet for a day”, while human affection can briefly be thrillingly intense, notoriously is it brief and transitory.  Just as “love grows bitter with treason” with relationships easily and often turned toxic by a betrayal or shift in faith, the “laurel outlives not May” and like spring flowers, fame dies quickly when the cultural season shifts and fashions change.  Nothing lasts forever and even the highest artistic achievements will one day dissolve into nothingness: Man can write his will across the heavens but those stars will soon dim and fall.  Swinburne found comfort not in an afterlife, but in the total, final darkness granted by Proserpine, the goddess of death.  Charmingly, Christians and pagans alike would both concur with the scriptural “Vanity, vanity, vanity of vanity of vanities, all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) although each would draw different conclusions, the former in eternal life, the latter in peaceful oblivion.  As a footnote, Hymn to Proserpine includes cross-rhyme (known also as an interlaced rhyme) a device occurring in long couplets, the device operating on words in the middle of each line (here “season” and “treason”).

Wednesday, August 5, 2026

Shuttle

Shuttle (pronounced shuht-l)

(1) In weaving, a device in a loom for passing or shooting the weft thread through the shed from one side of the web to the other, usually consisting of a boat-shaped piece of wood containing a bobbin on which the weft thread is wound (ie the tool which carries the woof back and forth (shuttling) between the warp threads on a loom).

(2) In a sewing machine, the sliding container (thread-holder) that carries the lower thread through a loop of the upper thread to make a lock-stitch.

(3) In transport, a public conveyance (bus, train, ferry, car, limousine, aircraft etc) that travels back and forth at regular intervals over a particular route, especially a short route or one connecting two transportation systems; the service provided by such vehicles.

(4) In badminton, as shuttlecock, the lightweight object, built with a weighted (usually rubber-covered) semi-spherical nose attached to a conical construction (historically of feathers but now usually synthetic) and used as a ball is used in other racquet games. Shuttlecock was also once widely used as the name of the game but this is now rare.

(5) As space shuttle, vehicle designed to transport people & cargo between Earth and outer-space, designed explicitly re-use with a short turn-around between missions (with initial capital letters of the US craft).  The term shuttlecraft is the generic alternative.  “Space shuttle” most associated with the US vehicle (1981-2011).

(6) To cause (someone or something) to move back and forth by or as if by a shuttle, often in the form “shuttling”.

(7) Any device that repeatedly moves back and forth between two positions, either transporting something or transferring energy between those points.

(8) In electrical engineering, as "shuttle armature", the H-shaped armature in the that is an elongated shuttle with wires running longitudinally in grooves, used in small electrical generators or motors, having a single coil wound upon a the bobbin, the latter usually formed in soft iron.

(9) In diplomacy, as shuttle diplomacy, the practice of a diplomat from a third country shuttling between two others countries to conduct negotiations, the two protagonists declining directly to meet.

Pre 900: Shuttle was a merge from two sources. From (1) the Middle English shutel, shotel, schetel, schettell, schyttyl & scutel (bar; bolt), from the Old English sċyttel & sċutel (bar; bolt), the notion being shut + -le.  Shut was from the Middle English shutten & shetten, from the Old English scyttan (to cause rapid movement, shoot a bolt, shut, bolt), from the Proto-Germanic skutjaną & skuttijaną (to bar, to bolt), from the Proto-Germanic skuttą & skuttjō (bar, bolt, shed), from the primitive Indo-European skewd & kewd- (to drive, fall upon, rush). The -le suffix was from the Middle English -elen, -len & -lien, from the Old English -lian (the frequentative verbal suffix), from the Proto-Germanic -lōną (the frequentative verbal suffix) and was cognate with the West Frisian -elje, the Dutch -elen, the German -eln, the Danish -le, the Swedish -la and the Icelandic -la.  It was used as a frequentative suffix of verbs, indicating repetition or continuousness.  From (2) the Middle English shitel (missile; a weaver's instrument), shutel, schetil, shotil, shetel, schootyll, shutyll, schytle & scytyl (missile; projectile; spear), from the Old English sċytel, sċutel (dart, arrow) (related to the Middle High German schüzzel and the Swedish skyttel), from the Proto-Germanic skutilaz, (related to the Middle High German schüzzel and the Swedish skyttel) and cognate with the Old Norse skutill (harpoon), the idea akin to both shut & shoot.  Shuttle is a noun, verb & adjective, shuttling is a noun & verb and shuttled and shuttles are verbs; the noun plural is shuttles.  The adjectival form shuttle-like is more common than the rare shuttlesque (which is listed as non-standard by the few sources to acknowledge its dubious existence).

A Lindsay Lohan advertising mural on the back of one of the airport shuttle buses run by Milan Malpensa International Airport in northern Italy.

The original sense in English is long obsolete, supplanted by the senses gained from the weaving instrument, so called since 1338 on the notion of it being “shot backwards and forwards” across the threads.  The transitive sense (move something rapidly to and fro) was documented from the 1540s, the same idea attached to the shuttle services in transport, first used in 1895 (although the intransitive sense of “go or move backward and forward like a shuttle” had been in use by at least 1843) in early versions of what would come to be known as the intra-urban RTS (rapid transit systems), the one train running back and forth on a single line between fixed destinations (often with intermediate stops).  This was picked up by ferry services in 1930, air routes in 1942, space travel in 1960 (in SF (science fiction)) and (real) spacecraft in 1969.  Shuttle in the sense it evolved in English is used in many languages but a separate development was the naming of the weaving instrument based on its resemblance to a boat (the Latin navicula, the French navette and the German Weberschiff).  The noun shuttlecock dates from the 1570s, the “shuttle” element from it being propelled backwards and forwards over a net and the “cock” an allusion to the attached anti-aerodynamic construction (originally of feathers) which resembled a male bird's plume of tail feathers.  The term shuttle diplomacy came into use in the 1970s thanks to tireless self-promotion by Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977) although the practice (of “good offices”) dates back centuries.

The Abbotsleigh class of 2020 pondering time flying faster than a weaver’s shuttle.  This was the first of the "Covid generation" so the lack of social distancing can be explained only by them all having "tested negative".

The motto of the Sydney girl’s school Abbotsleigh is tempus celerius radio fugit (Time flies faster than a weaver's shuttle), the idea behind that said to be: “As the shuttle flies a pattern is woven, with the threads being the people, buildings and events. The pattern is Abbotsleigh as it continues to grow in complexity and richness each year”.  Quite whether a weaver’s shuttle (said by some detractors to have been chosen as symbolic of the "proper" place of women being in a state of domestic servitude for the convenience of men) is appropriate for a girls’ school in the twenty-first century has been debated.  The motto came from the family crest of Marian Clarke (1853-1933), Abbotsleigh’s first headmistress (principle) and was maintained using the family’s grammatically dubious form tempus fugit radio celerity until 1924 when the correct syntax was substituted.  It’s an urban myth the mistake was permitted to stand until 1924 as a mark of respect while Ms Clarke was alive; she lived a decade odd after the change although the family’s heraldry was apparently never corrected.

The US (left) and USSR (centre) space shuttles compared with a badminton shuttlecock (right).  The shuttlecock is rendered in a larger scale than the shuttles and although the shapes are similar, travelling in "opposite directions" the purposes differ, the lines of the shuttles optimized for efficiency while the shuttlecock is an unusual example in aerodynamics of "planned inefficiency".

Counterintuitively, badminton is (in a narrow technical sense) the world’s “fastest racquet sport”.  In controlled conditions, the maximum speed achieved by a shuttlecock in flight is listed at 565 km/h (351 mph) and during sanctioned competitive tournament play, 417 km/h (259 mph) has been recorded.  A shuttlecock attains such speeds only briefly, directly after coming off the racquet and before the skirt shape creates its massive aerodynamic drag; by the time a shuttlecock arrives to be returned by the opposing player, the velocity considerably has been reduced.  Professional players however don’t seek with every serve or return-shot to generate maximum power because, as in tennis and cricket where the unexpected “slower ball” can be effective, in badminton, a well-disguised slower shuttlecock can deceive.

Three of the great landmarks of the analogue era: Space Shuttle Enterprise (OV-101, the first orbiter, used for atmospheric test flights that never flew in space) atop NASA 905 SCA (Shuttle Carrier Aircraft, one of two modified Boeing 747s used to ferry shuttles from landing sites back to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida and a BA (British Airways) Concorde taking off, Paris Air Show, 1983.

The US Space Shuttle was operated by NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) between 1981-2011 as the low Earth orbital vehicle and served as the platform for its STS (Space Transportation System).  The plans, based on ideas a decade earlier explored in SF for a (mostly) reusable spacecraft were first laid down in 1969 and, despite intermittent funding and the odd threat by Congress to "defund", test flights were able to be undertaken in 1981.  Five Space Shuttles eventually were built to completion and between 1981-2011, there were over a hundred missions but the stresses imposed on the craft were considerable, meaning more maintenance was required than originally envisaged so mission turn-arounds were never as rapid as had been hoped and the extent to which components could be reused had to be revised (downwards, many reclassified as "single-use").  There was controversy too about the failures in NASA’s procedures that resulted in the two accidents in which all seven crew aboard each shuttle were killed.  The programme was retired in 2011.

Lindsay Lohan getting off the NAPA Shuttle, The Parent Trap (1998).  "NAPA" here is not an acronym, the reference is to California's Napa Valley, noted for wine tours.

Common in the early days of civil aviation, the term "to disembark" (get off) was borrowed from nautical use and was the companion to "embark" (get on).  Of late "to deplane" has entered English which seems unnecessary but the companion "to disemplane" was more absurd still; real people continue to "get on" and "get off" aircraft.  It seemed to be a trend because on railway platforms it has become not uncommon to hear "detrain" (passengers leaving the carriage), a use distinct from "derail" (railway locomotives or un-powered rolling-stock "coming off the rails").  

The Soviet Union’s space shuttle, construction of which began in 1980, unsurprisingly, was visually very similar to the US vehicle, there being only so many ways optimally to do these things.  The USSR’s effort was the Буран (Buran) (Snowstorm or Blizzard), the craft sharing the designation with the Soviet spaceplane project and its spaceships, known as "Buran-class orbiters".  Although more than a dozen frames were laid down, few were ever completed to be flight-ready and the Buran’s only flight was an un-crewed orbital mission in 1988 that although successful, proved a one-off.  The deteriorating economic and political situation in the Soviet Union (1922-1991) saw the programme stall and in 1993 it was abandoned by the new Russian government, now faced with more problems more urgently demanding the allocation of scarce resources.  The striking similarity between the profile of the US & Soviet space shuttles and a badminton shuttlecock is coincidental but not unrelated.  The space craft are designed as aerodynamic platforms because, although not of relevance in the vacuum of space, they did have to operate as aircraft while operating in Earth’s atmosphere whereas the shuttlecock is designed deliberately as an anti-aerodynamic shape.  The shuttle’s shape was dictated by the need to maximize performance whereas a shuttlecock is intentionally inefficient, the shape maximizing air-resistance (drag) so it slows in flight.

El rapto de Europa (The Rape of Europa (1628-1629)), oil on canvas by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), Prado Museum, Madrid.  It follows a 1562 work in the same vein by Tiziano Vecelli (circa 1489-1576 and known in English as Titian).

The shuttle can be weaponized.  In Greek mythology, Αράχνη (Arachne) was a Lydian girl (Lydia an ancient iron-age kingdom in western Asia Minor (the modern-day Republic of Türkiye (Turkey)) who produced weaving and embroidery so exquisite nymphs from all around would gather to watch her fingers work the threads.  Such was the virtuosity, word spread she must have been the pupil of Athena (goddess, inter alia, of spinners & embroiderers) but although that was quite an endorsement, Arachne had an artisan’s pride in her craft and refused to attribute to skill to another, even a goddess.  Angered by the story being widely believed, Arachne challenged Athena who responded by first appearing to her in the guise of an old woman, entreating the proud embroider to behave with greater modesty.  Unimpressed, Arachne spat out insults, at which point, the goddess threw off her disguise and demanded a contest.  Dramatically, Athena created a stunning tapestry showing in all their majesty the twelve Olympian gods with, in each corner, a depiction of the defeat of mortals who had dared defy the gods; an unsubtle but unambiguous threat.  Arachne took as her theme the least creditable of the love affairs of the gods: Zeus and the rape of Europa, a kind of proto #metoo moment in Antiquity.  The work was of course executed to perfection but the subject so enraged Athena she tore it to shreds and struck her rival with her own shuttle.  At this, Arachne lost heart, ran off and hanged herself.  Hell however hath no fury like a goddess angered and Athena refused to let her die, transforming her into a spider, doomed forever to spin and weave its web.

Dr Henry Kissinger, shuttling between dinner companions (left to right), Dolly Parton (b 1946), Diane von Furstenberg (b 1946), Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) and Carla Bruni (b 1967).  It was Dr Kissinger who coined the phrase: "Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac", a conclusion he reached on an empirical basis. 

The term "shuttle diplomacy" describes the process in which a mediator travels repeatedly between two or more parties involved in a conflict or negotiation, in circumstances where the protagonists are unable or unwilling to meet.  Ostensibly, the purpose of shuttle diplomacy is to facilitate communication between the parties and reach a resolution of the dispute(s) but, being inherently political, it can be used for other, less laudable goals.  The practice, if not the term, has a long history, instances noted from Antiquity and the Holy Roman Empire was renowned for the (nominally) neutral diplomats who would travel back and forth between kings, princes, dukes and cardinals.  During both the Conference of Vienna (1814-1815) and the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920) the negotiations were marked by sometimes intransigent politicians sitting in rooms while a professionally disinterested notable would shuttle between them, oiling the machinery by giving and taking until either a common acquiescence was extracted or the matter was "referred to a committee".  A celebrated example of the process played out between 1939-1940 when Swedish businessman Birger Dahlerus (1891-1957) played a quixotic role as amateur diplomat, shuttling between London and Berlin in what proved a doomed attempt to avoid war.  It long seen as something noble (if misguided) and it was only years later (when the UK Foreign Office’s papers on the matter were declassified) the extent of the Swede’s conflicts of interest were revealed.

Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974, left) meets Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 and secretary of state 1937-1977, right).  Although there were in the past those who would now be thought "celebrity diplomats", Dr Kissinger was the first to be so-labeled.  He'd not have disagreed.

The term entered the language in 1973 when Dr Henry Kissinger used it to refer to his efforts to negotiate an end to the Yom Kippur War between Israel and its Arab neighbors.  Kissinger shuttled between Tel Aviv, Cairo and other Middle Eastern capitals in an attempt to broker a ceasefire and improve diplomatic relations, enjoying some success, and contributing to the achievement of a bilateral peace between Egypt and Israel as well as a number of disengagement agreements (admittedly, all of them would likely anyway have happened by virtue of "military necessity").  Moreover, some historians and foreign policy scholars, while acknowledging what was achieved, have suggested it was the Kissinger’s approach to the region in the years leading up to the war that played some part in the outbreak of hostilities.

Kissinger has also been criticized on the basis that shuttle diplomacy was to him never much more than playing a game of realpolitik on a multi-dimensional chessboard rather than an attempt to imagine a regional architecture able to secure a comprehensive peace plan in the Middle East, his emphasis on obtaining something in the interest of the US (a treaty between Egypt and Israel), meaning the vital issue of Palestine and its potential to assist in a long-term settlement not just neglected but ignored.  In fairness, it must be said that lip-service apart, the Arab states took the plight of the Palestinians about as seriously, the only consensus among the being: "We don't want the Palestinians coming here".  Cynics, noting his university background (he'd been also a minor "celebrity academic" before being co-opted by various politicians) and research interests, compared the "shuttling" with the travels of emissaries in the Holy Roman Empire who would travel between the Holy See, palaces and chancelleries variously to reassure the troubled, sooth hurt feelings, cajole the diffident and, where possibe, issue threats.  This was the idea of Henry the self-promoting celebrity who could bring peace to Vietnam and Nixon to China, the political wizard who solved problems as they arose.  Certainly, the circumstances in which Kissinger was able to use shuttle diplomacy as a political narrative were both unique and something of his own creation.  He’d first undermined and then replaced William Rogers (1913–2001; US secretary of state 1969-1973) as secretary of state and even before becoming the last major figure still standing from Richard Nixon’s first term as the Watergate affair took its toll, essentially took personal control of the direction of US foreign policy.  As he put it “one of the more cruel torments of Nixon’s Watergate purgatory was my emergence as the preeminent figure in foreign policy”.

Prize by proxy: Dr Kissinger (left) receiving the 1973 Nobel Peace Prize from Dr Thomas Byrne (1923-2014; US Ambassador to Norway 1973-1976, right), Claridge's Hotel, London, 12 December, 1973.

Some of that shuttling was in 1973 recognized when Kissinger and Lê Đức Thọ Lê Đức Thọ (1911–1990; North Vietnamese communist functionary and negotiator) jointly were offered the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts in what was, somewhat prematurely, called the “Paris Peace Accords”.  On the basis a state of armed conflict still existed in his country, Lê Đức Thọ declined to accept the prize while Kissinger crafted a compromise which earlier shuttler Prince Klemens von Metternich (1773-1859; Foreign Minister of the Austrian Empire 1809-1848 & Chancellor 1821-1848) would have admired: He took the medal, donated the prize money to be used eleemosynarily and was a no-show at the prize ceremony (he cited "prior international commitments", a variant of "diplomatic toothache").  After the fall of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) although the old name persists in popular use) in 1975, Kissinger offered to return his medal but the committee declined, by then presumably not wishing further to draw attention to them ever having made the award.

Elizabeth Holmes in black gown with (a perhaps optimistic) cleavage slit.  Until he met Elizabeth Holmes (b 1984; CEO of US biotech company Theranos 2003-2018), nothing fooled Henry.

So, opportunistic his initiatives may have been but there were after all real problems to be solved and it seems unfair to criticize Kissinger for doing what he did rather than constructing some counter-factual grand design that might have crafted a permanent, settled peace in the Middle East.  Among realists (and Kissinger was dean of the school), even then there were few who believed such a thing was anyway still possible possible (certainly since the conclusion of the Six-Day War (1967)) and Kissinger certainly achieved something and to do that it’s necessary to understand there are some problems that can never be solved and only endlessly managed.  Genuinely, some problems are insoluble, something lost on many US presidents infected more than most by the diminishing but still lingering feelings of optimism and exceptionalism that have for centuries characterized the American national character.