Bellwether

Bellwether (pronounced bel-weth-er)

(1) A wether or other male sheep that leads the flock, usually bearing a bell.

(2) A person or thing that assumes the leadership or forefront, as of a profession or industry.

(3) Anything that indicates future trends (gauge, indicator, sign).

(4) As “bellwether state”, “bellwether seat” etc, an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to predict the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).

(5) In finance, as “bellwether stock”, a stock or bond widely believed to be an indicator of the overall market's condition and future direction.

1400-1450: The construct was bell + wether.  The late thirteenth century word clearly existed in Anglo-Latin but in the late twelfth century it had been used as a surname.  The prevalent meaning became “lead sheep” (with a collar on which a bell was hung) of a domesticated flock, while the figurative sense (leader, chief) dates from the mid-fourteenth century.  Used in its original sense (a sheep with a bell attached to a collar), bellwether has no synonyms but they do exist when the term figuratively is applied (a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend; index), including trendsetter, trailblazer, front runner, pacesetter, leader, omen, gauge, indicator, sign & harbinger.  Thus in fashion, historically, the bellwether has tended variously to be what was first seen on the catwalks in Milan, Paris or London while in the years immediately after World War II (1939-1945), it was the artistic movements in New York rather than Paris that became the bellwether of global directions in the visual arts.  The alternative forms were bell-wether and (the now archaic) belwether; bellweather was a misspelling.  Bellwether is a noun; the noun plural is bellwethers.

A model in a “strapless fuchsia top and pants covered in shimmering, sculpted rose embellishments” from Rahul Mishra’s (b 1979) Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2025/2026 collection (Becoming Love), Paris Fashion Week, 2025.  Paris remains the industry’s bellwether but not everything seen on the catwalk is a harbinger.

Bell, in the sense of the percussive, hollow instrument (usually of cast or forged metal), typically cup-shaped with a flaring mouth, suspended from the vertex and rung by the strokes of a clapper, hammer, or the like (resonating upon impact producing “the sound of the bell”), was a pre-1000 word, from the Middle English belle, from the Old English belle & bellan (to roar), from the from Proto-West Germanic bellā, from the Proto-Germanic bellǭ, from the primitive Indo-European bel-; it was cognate with the West Frisian belle, the Old High German bellan, the Low German Belle & Bel, the German bellen (to bark), the Middle Dutch bellen & belen, the Old Norse belja, the Danish bjælde, the Faroese bjølla, the Icelandic bjalla, the Norwegian bjelle and the Swedish bjällra. and the Dutch bel.

Wether (originally “a castrated male sheep” but later used generally of “male sheep”) dates from pre 900 and was from the Middle English wether, wethir & wedyr, from the Old English weðer (ram), from the Middle English wether, wethir, wedyr, from Old English weþer (“a wether, ram”), from the Proto-West Germanic weþru, from the Proto-Germanic wethruz (source also of the Old Saxon wethar, the Old Norse veðr, the Old High German widar, the German Widder and the Gothic wiþrus (lamb)), literally “yearling’, from the primitive Indo-European root wet- (year), (source also of the Sanskrit vatsah (calf), the Greek etalon (yearling) and the Latin vitulus (calf, literally “yearling”); it was cognate with the Old Saxon withar, the Old High German widar, the Old Norse vethr and the Gothic withrus.  The ultimate source was the primitive Indo-European wet- (year).  The word wether came to be used both of male sheep (rams) and male goats (busks) castrated at a young age.  Usually, it’s safe practice for wethers to share paddocks or be housed with female sheep or goats, but intact rams & bucks usually are kept separately.  “Wether wool” was wool from previously shorn sheep.  The now obsolete dialectal form was wedder and in historic documents, as late as the nineteenth century wether was a (now archaic) spelling of weather.  Used as a verb, “to wether” was to castrate a male sheep or goat, the victim said to have been “wethered”.

In idiomatic use, a “bellwether state” “bellwether district” or “bellwether seat” is an electoral division or constituency which, over a long period, has tended to align with the outcome in wider electoral contests (presidential, congressional, provincial, national etc).  The classic example is the bellwether state in US presidential elections that historically votes for the winning candidate in successive elections (ie sometimes returning a Democratic and sometimes a Republican majority).  It’s an accepted part of the jargon of political science but really doesn’t adhere to the etymology of the original idea of sheep “following a leader”.  In elections, one state, district or constituency generally doesn’t “follow another” because votes tend simultaneously to be cast and although there are examples (in countries with multiple time-zones) of early results in one place become available while polling is still happening in others, (1) those results are always from a very small proportion of the vote (2) most votes in places still voting have already been cast and (3) the time overlap usually is brief.

A Lindsay Lohan-themed weathervane.

In the political context, rather than bellwether, a better term might be “weather vane”.  A weather vane is a type of anemoscope (the construct being anemo- (from the Ancient Greek ᾰ̓́νεμος (ắnemos) (wind)) + scope (from the Ancient Greek σκοπέω (skopéō) (examine, inspect, look to or into, consider)) which is an elegant description of a simple, mechanical device rotating around one axis and attached to an elevated object such as a roof.  As a weather vane responds to the wind, it rotates to show the wind direction, the letters “N”, “S”, “E” & “W” displayed on static, extended prongs indicating respectively north, south, east & west.  The term is sometimes clipped to “vane” and they’re known also as “wind vanes” and “weathercocks”, the latter use dating from so many historically being formed in the silhouette of a rooster.  The reason “weather vane” works better than “bellwether” as a word indicating “current political climate” is that there’s no suggestion the wind “follows” the vane; instead, the position of the vane simply reflects the direction in which “the wind is blowing”.  That’s why it can be used to mean (1) an indicator; something that reflects what the current situation is and (2) a person or organization that changes their attitude and position based on the prevailing conditions rather than displaying any conviction.

So while a homophone, “weather” enjoys a different meaning from “wether”.  Weather was from the Middle English weder & wedir, from the Old English weder, from the Proto-West Germanic wedr, from the Proto-Germanic wedrą, from the primitive Indo-European wedrom (to blow).  The distinction between “the weather” and “the climate” is the former is the state of the atmosphere at a specific time and place (expressed via measures such as temperature, relative humidity, cloud cover, precipitation, wind strength etc) while the latter is the weather aggregated over periods (which can be a season, year, decade, century, epoch etc) or regions.  Such is the significance of the weather that the term “the weather” can refer explicitly to its more severe aspects.  That’s how Guadalcanal's Weather Coast in the Solomon Islands gained its name; unlike the island's northern coast (site of the capital Honiara), the southern Weather Coast faces the prevailing southeast trade winds and open ocean swells.  As a result, it experiences heavier rainfall, rougher seas, flooding, and generally harsher weather; it’s literally the island’s “weather-beaten coast”.

Vane was from the Middle English vane, a Southern Middle English variant of fane, from the Old English fana (cloth, banner, flag), from the Proto-West Germanic fanō, from the Proto-Germanic fanô, from the primitive Indo-European pehn- (something woven; weave; tissue; fabric; cloth).  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Foone (flag, banner), the Dutch vaan (banner, flag), the German Low German Fahn (flag) and the German Fahne.  In engineering, vanes typically exist in multiples and are relatively thin, rigid, flat, or sometimes curved surfaces radially mounted along an axis; they can be slow-moving (as on a windmill) or run at very high speeds (as in turbines).  In ornithology, the vane is the flattened, web-like part of a feather, consisting of a series of barbs on either side of the shaft.

A captured German V2 rocket (1945, left) and a full-size clay mock up of a design proposal for 1961 Cadillac, General Motors Technical Center, Warren, Michigan, (1959, right).  When the V2 used as a weapon (1944-1945), the term used was "fins" but the rocket scientists of the 1950s popularized "vanes".  On the cars, it was always "fins" but the lower units (seen on Oldsmobiles in 1961 and Cadillacs in 1961-1962) informally were dubbed "skegs", a borrowing from nautical architecture.

A recent adoption of vane was to describe the guidance or stabilizing fins attached to the tail of bombs or missiles.  Fins had of course long been a feature of directional weapons (arrows the classic example) and they’d appeared on the earliest aerial bombs.  Had the convention been: “fins are static and vanes can move” that would have made sense to laypersons but that wasn’t the way the military-industrial complex used the labels which resulted in non-specialist writers sometimes using “fin” and “vane” interchangeably.  That was understandable because while in the terminology of aerodynamicists the words are not exactly synonymous, there’s enough overlap to encourage confusion.  As a general principle, the primary purpose of a fin is to act as a stabilizing surface enhancing stability, the tail fins on a bomb, artillery shell, rocket, or missile the classic examples; until relatively recently, almost always they were fixed.  By contrast, a vane is a thin blade-like aerodynamic surface that interacts with airflow; they may be static or movable and are used for stabilization, steering or control.  To engineers the distinction was significant and for others it made sense because the nerdier "vane" was for rocket scientists while fins were things Detroit was putting on Cadillacs.  That meant some vanes could move while others were fixed and were thus functionally equivalent to fins.  Except for historians of such things, any distinction probably isn’t important and the two are so entrenched in ordnance and aerospace nomenclature, they’re both here to stay; in modern use the only discernible definitional difference being some emphasis on the component’s shape rather than whether it moves.

Map of the US expressed as "Red", "Blue", "Bellwether" & "Swing" states.  The apparent red-blue dichotomy is a product of the voting system, the vote spread broadly similar to patterns in other two-party systems.

Electoral behaviour in the democracies of the English-speaking world is not as predictable as it was in the days of relatively stable two-party systems.  Even in the US where the Democratic and Republican party machines have ensured there’s something of an institutionalized duopoly, their internal fissiparousness of both (TEA (Taxed Enough Already) & MAGA (Make America Great Again) etc) has made the use of historic data less useful.  What does seem clear is among the “less useful” concepts in the US are the “bellwethers”, states or districts that historically were remarkably reliable in picking winners in national elections.  In presidential contests, some were striking in this: Nevada between 2012-2020 voted for the winner in every election (except 1976) and Missouri did the same between 1904- 2004 except in 1956.  Much maligned Ohio was once also a Bellwether; between choosing a loser in Barry Goldwater (1909–1998) in 1964 and crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947) in 2016, Ohioans otherwise got it right.

Map of the US expressed as "Purple" states.

Political scientists explain the change by pointing out the electorate, geographically, has become much more polarized, states now increasingly sorted by education level, urbanization, ethnicity, and partisan identity.  Once consequence of this was previously competitive states can drift permanently into one party's column, thus the growing number of “Red” (Republican) and “Blue” (Democrat) states and although psephologists have published district-by-district analyses showing all states really are “shades of purple”, because of the way the electoral system works in the US, the shades don’t matter because mostly the delegates in the Electoral College are determined on “winner takes all” basis.  Thus it’s correct to speak of “red” and “blue” states and the “winner takes all” approach does distort political perceptions; were a system of proportional representation (or even a preferential system) to be adopted, the electoral outcomes would be very different on the basis of the same patterns of voting.  What this shift in behaviour has meant is political scientists tend now to focus less on the historic bellwethers and more on the “tipping-point states” (the relative handful of "swing" states which have evolved to be the most competitive and thus likely to be decisive in provides the needed Electoral College votes).  In recent elections, the tipping point states have been Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.

Because there are more of them, in Congressional elections, the notion of “bellwether districts” remains more useful but even there it has become diluted.  Historically, there were literally dozens of House districts that routinely elected a representative from whichever party won the national House vote and in a real (ie statistically verifiable) sense such districts really did reflected “the median American voter”, a concept now less identifiable.  What has happened is that the forces of geographic polarization, partisan realignment, residential self-sorting and the decline of split-ticket voting means the number of genuine bellwether districts dramatically has shrunk, a stark change from the trend first identified in the late 1990s of the number of “safe seats” decreasing.  Concurrent with that has been the movement in the number of House districts carried by one presidential candidate but represented by the other party in Congress.  In the 1970s and 1980s there were hundreds of such mismatches while today there are but a handful with many congressional districts effectively “safe” for one party or the other; now it’s only “reprehensible or extraordinary circumstances” (they can be local or national) likely to shift things.  While it’s true there are a small number of competitive districts (in Arizona, Georgia, Pennsylvania and Michigan) that have in recent elections been reliable bellwethers, there seems among political scientists little confidence these can be guaranteed to maintain the pattern.  The bellwethers “happened” because there was for at least decades a large “middle ground” of persuadable “swing voters” distributed throughout the country but modern American (and this predates Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who does get blamed for much) politics increasingly is characterized by semi-stable partisan coalitions and fewer swing voters.  So, “bellwethers” are now quite likely to be temporary coincidences rather than a durable phenomenon so the predictive power of the concept is now much weaker.

1968 Holden HK Monaro GTS 327.

The In Australian federal elections, the seat most recently dubbed a “bellwether” was the NSW (New South Wales) division of Eden Monaro (established in 1900), its good burghers for four decades reliability voting for the party destined to take office.  Between 1972-2013, Eden-Monaro was won by the party winning the general election and in another quirk unusual over such a long period (and uniquely among Australia’s historic bellwethers), none of the sitting members retired, resigned or had the decency to drop dead; all were defeated on polling day.  The Monaro region lies in what was the traditional country of the Ngarigo people and “Monaro” was said to be was from the Aboriginal word maneroo, most often translated as meaning “treeless plain”, “high plain” or “high plateau” although the APH (Parliamentary Handbook of the Commonwealth of Australia) lists the alternative etymology as an “Aboriginal word meaning 'the navel' or 'a woman's breasts'.”

Marlboro cigarette magazine advertisement, 1967.  There was a time when such imagery was thought "positive product association".

In the early years of colonial settlement, the word often was spelled “Manaro” but the pronunciation is believed always to have been me-nair-oh.  Despite that long history, when in 1968 GMH (General Motors Holdens, GM’s local operation) introduced the Monaro, the pronunciation used was mon-ah-ro and that was attributed to events far away.  The choice of name is attributed to one of GMH’s technical designers in 1967 driving through Cooma and seeing the sign “Monaro County Council”.  At the time, there had been no decision about a name for the new Holden coupé (the body style a first for the company) and what appealed to the designer was (1) the sign reminding him of the famous “Marlboro Country” cigarette advertisements (then much admired) and (2) the obvious similarity with “Camaro”, the “pony car” introduced that year by Chevrolet as a competitor for Ford’s wildly successful Mustang.  Apparently, when “Monaro” was suggested as a name, instead of a committee being formed in the usual corporate way, so things could be “discussed”, immediately the name was adopted.  Although the Camaro (pronounced kam-ah-ro) wasn’t then sold in the Australian market, it had been well-publicized so Holden taking advantage of the “linguistic association” was not surprising.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro RS-SS 396.

That was a decision more quickly made than the process at Chevrolet which produced Camaro which emerged from a committee after the alternatives had been considered and discarded.  These days, conjuring up novel words for products (as well as product differentiation it avoids any legal squabbles) is common but in the mid-1960s, GM must not have wanted to risk being accused of linguistic impurity so told the press there was an entry in a (very) old French-English dictionary defining camaro as “companion”. “comrade” or “friend”.  Mischievously, Ford retaliated with a more recent Spanish dictionary in which a camaro was listed as a “small shrimp-like creature”, provoking Chevrolet into responding that a camaro was “a small, vicious animal that eats Mustangs”.  In the same era, that carnivorous notion really was the basis of the name of the de Tomaso Mangusta (Mongoose, 1967-1971), chosen after Alejandro de Tomaso (1928-2003) and Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) had a falling out, explained by the mongoose being a beast famous for hunting and killing cobras.  Unfortunately, the legend about the origin of the Camaro’s name is thought a myth, Chevrolet just “making it up” at a time when the company was using model names starting with “C” (Corvair, Corvette, Chevelle, Caprice) and the story of a journalist unearthing yet another dictionary that disclosed the definition “loose bowels” wholly is a myth.

TikToker

TikToker (pronounced tik-tok-ah)

(1) One who is a regular or frequent viewer of the content posted on the short-form video (which, with mission-creep, can in certain circumstances now be up to sixty (60) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com.

(2) One who is a regular or frequent content provider on the TikTok platform.

(3) With a variety of spellings (ticktocker, tictoker, tiktoka etc), a slang term for a clock or watch, derived from the alternating ticking sound, as that made by a clock (archaic).

(4) In computing, with the spelling ticktocker (or ticktocker), slang for a software element which emulates the sound of a ticking clock, used usually in conjunction with digitals depictions of analogue clocks.

2018: The ancestor form (ticktock or tick-tock) seems not to have been used until the mid-nineteenth century and was purely imitative of the sound of mechanical clocks. Tick (in the sense of "a quiet but sharp sound") was from the Middle English tek (light touch, tap) and tock was also onomatopoeic; when used in conjunction with tick was a reference to the clicking sounds similar to those made by the movements of a mechanical clock.  The use of TikToker (in the sense of relating to users (consumers & content providers) of the short-form video (which, with mission-creep, can be up to ten (10) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com probably began in 2018 (the first documented reference) although it may early have been in oral use.  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  TikToker is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is TikTokers (the mixed upper & lower case is correct by commercial convention but not always followed).  The PRC- (People’s Republic of China) based holding company ByteDance is said to have chosen the name “TikTok” because it was something suggestive of the “short, snappy” nature of the platform’s content; they understood the target market and its alleged attention span (which, like the memory famously associated with goldfish might be misleading).

A blonde Billie Eilish, Vogue, June, 2021.

Those who use TikTok (whether as content providers or consumers) are called “tiktokers” and the longer the aggregate duration of one’s engagement with the platform, the more of a tiktoker one can be said to be.  The formation followed the earlier, self-explanatory “YouTuber” and the use for similar purposes (indicating association) for at least decades.  So, the noun tiktoker can be a neutral descriptor but it can be used also as a slur.   In February 2024, at the People’s Choice Awards ceremony held in Los Angeles, singer Billie Eilish (b 2001) was filmed leaning over to Kylie Minogue (b 1968), remarking sotto voce:“There’s some, like, TikTokers here…” with the sort of distaste Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen Consort of France 1774-1792) might have displayed if indicating to her companion the unpleasing presence of peasants.  The clip went viral on X (formerly known as Twitter) before spreading to Tiktok.  Clearly there is a feeling of hierarchy in the industry and her comments triggered some discussion about the place of essentially amateur content creators at mainstream Hollywood (and such) events.  That may sound strange given a platform like TikTok would, prima facie, seem the very definition of the “people’s choice” but these events have their own history, associations and connotations and what social media sites have done to the distribution models has been quite a disturbance.  Many established players, even some who have to some extent benefited from the platforms, find disquieting the intrusion of the “plague of TikTokers”.

Pop Crave's clip of the moment, a brunette Billie Eilish & Kylie Minogue, People's Choice Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, February 2024.

There will be layers to Ms Eilish’s view.  One is explained in terms of mere proximity, the segregation of pop culture celebrities into “A List”, B List, C List” etc an important component in the creation and maintenance of one’s public image and an A-Lister like her would not appreciate being photographed at an event with those well up (ie down) the alphabet sitting at the next table; it cheapens her image.  Properly managed, these images can translate into millions (and these days even billions) of dollars so this is not a matter of mere vanity and something for awards ceremonies to consider; if the TikTokers come to be seen as devaluing their brand to the extent the A-Listers ignore their invitations, the events either have to move to a down-market niche or just be cancelled.  Marshall McLuhan’s (1911-1980) book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man (1964) pre-dates social media by decades but its best-remembered phrase (“The medium is the message”) could have been coined for the era, the idea being the medium on which content is distributed should be the first point of understanding its significance, rather than actual content, the theory being the initial assessment of the veracity or the value of something relies on its source.  In the case of pop music, this meant a song distributed by a major label possessed an inherent credibility and prestige in a way something sung by a busker in a train station did not.  What the existence of YouTube and TikTok meant was the buskers and the artists signed to labels began suddenly to appear on the same medium, thus at some level gaining a sort of equivalency.  Viewing TikTok on a phone, tablet or laptop, sharing the same screen-space, in a sense, all are rendered equal.

On trend: Lindsay Lohan announces she is now a Tiktoker.

Ms Eilish and her label have been adept at using the social media platforms as tools for this and that so presumably neither object to the existence or the technology of the sites (although her label (Universal Music) has only recently settled its dispute with TikTok over the revenue sharing) but there will be an understanding that while there’s now no alternative to, in a sense, sharing the digital space and letting the people choose, that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about being in the same photo frame when the trophies are handed out.  Clearly, there are stars and there are TikTokers and while the latter can (and have) become the former, there are barriers not all can cross.

The Tic-Toc Tach

1967 Jaguar 340 (left), 1980 Mercedes-Benz 450 SLC 5.0 (centre) and 1970 Plymouth Superbird (right).  Only the Americans called the shared tachometer/clock a “Tic-Toc Tach”.

Since the inter-war years, Jaguar had included a small clock at the bottom of the tachometer but in 1966, phasing in the change as models were updated or replaced, began to move the device to the centre of the dashboard (in the case of the 420 & 420G putting it in a blister protruding from the padded molding that had replaced the timber top-rail).  By 1968 the horological shift was almost complete (only the last of the Mark IIs (now known as 240, 340) and & Daimler V8 250 models still with the shared dial) and it was then Chrysler adopted the idea.  An urban myth has long circulated that Chrysler, with a flair the British never showed, called the device the “Tic-Toc Tachometer” (“Tic-Toc Tach” the popular clipping).  However, the term was first used by GM (General Motors) and it never appeared in anything published by Chrysler which used only the equally informative but less catchy “Electric Clock/Tach”.

Tic-Toc Tach in 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

Among the originality police who verity the authenticity of vehicles in the US muscle car ecosystem (1964-1974), the tachometer can be an item of interest because in some cases units with different redlines were fitted, depending on the engine specified.  For example, in 1968 Chevrolet Corvettes (for restorers a quirky beast with many single-season parts), the redline for the small block V8s could be 5300 or 6000 rpm (depending on output) and for the big blocks 5600 or 6500 (the latter for the most potent).  So, a mismatch between redline and engine installed is a flag a car may not have left the factory in its current form.  That is of course one of many things checked by the originality police and while re-production tachometers are available, they know how to pick those and are not fooled.  The only work-around for someone “creating authenticity” is to use a part-number from before or about the vehicle’s certified date of manufacture, a principle which works for most items where there’s no record of a part’s specific serial-number being associated with a particular VIN (vehicle identification number).

1967 Porsche 911S Soft Window Targa (left) and 2025 Porsche 911 Carrera T Coupe (right).  The enlarged, central  tachometer is still part of the Porsche shtick but the clock has now been relegated to a scalloped pod atop the dashpad.

The innovation proved proved popular and was adopted by other US manufacturers during the era, the attraction being an economical use of dash space, the clock fitting in a space at the centre of the tachometer dial which would otherwise be unused.  Although in Europe and the UK the standard arrangement of a matching speedometer & tachometer directly in the driver's line-of-sight had become familiar (though Porsche and liked to make a point with a larger dial for the tachometer and giving it pride of place), in the US, until the mid-1960s tachometers tended to be obviously "add-ons" located in various places (centre consoles a favorite) and other than quirky Studebakers, and Ford's Continental Mark II (1956-1967), few got a matching pair, even the Chevrolet Corvette not joining the trans-Atlantic mainstream until the release of the C2 for 1963.  Mercedes-Benz picked up Jaguar's now abandoned concept in 1971 when the 350 SL (R107, 1971-1989) was introduced and it spread throughout the range, almost universal (in cars with tachometers) after 1981 when production of the 600 (W100) ended; Mercedes-Benz would for decades use the shared instrument.  A tachometer (often called a “rev counter”) is a device for measuring the revolutions per minute (RPMs) of a revolving shaft such as the crankshaft of an internal combustion engine (ICE) (thus determining the “engine speed”).  The construct was tacho- (an alternative form of tachy-, from the Ancient Greek ταχύς (takhús) (rapid) + meter (the suffix from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron) (measure) used to form the names of measuring devices).

1967 Oldsmobile 4-4-2.

Nobody however crammed more into a tic-toc-tach than Oldsmobile which during the first generation (1964-1967) of its 4-4-2 also included a temperature gauge, ammeter and oil pressure gauge, something necessitated because the instrument panel the stylists were compelled to use contained only two pods.  When the second generation (1968-1972) was released, the dash included a third pod so the ancillary gauges were given their own space and a true tic-toc-tach was used.  Thankfully, nobody seems ever to have attempted to coin a term for five-function device on the early 4-4-2s so those who worry about such things must content themselves with choices like “enhanced tic-toc-tach” or “augmented tic-toc-tach”.  Buyers got the instrument with its “perimeter auxiliary gauges” by choosing option code U21 (Rallye Pac with Tachometer and Clock) for US$84.26 which sounds modest but at the time the bikini-clad and neoprene-tailed “mermaids” who splashed around the coral reef in the middle of Submarine Lagoon at California’s Disneyland Resort were paid US$65 week although male full-time weekly earnings may be a better comparison and in the era (depending on the details of the calculation) they were between US$100-125.  Making a virtue of necessity, Oldsmobile described the cluttered device as a “compact instrument cluster [which] lets driver monitor engine performance at a glance”, not burdening brochure readers with the fact the Rallye Pac wasn’t planned as part of the range and with only two pods on the dash, there was no other way elegantly to cram it all in.

It looked bigger in the brochure.

However, while the five-purpose combo device might have impressed efficiency experts (a field in the 1960s becoming quite a science) and pleased the accountants by avoiding a costly re-design of the dash, the functionalists at Car and Driver magazine were severe in their criticism.  Testing a 4-4-2 for their December 1966 edition, the editors generally were untypically lavish in their praise of a US-built car, the adoption of front disc brakes and the corporate Turbo-Hydramatic 400 automatic transmission welcomed as replacements for the obsolescent units previously used and the experience obviously was enjoyed: “The 4-4-2 is the best-handling car of its type we've ever tested, lacking the typical horrendous understeer generally found on domestic cars.”.  However nothing good could be found to be said of the busy instrument in the right-hand pod, the conclusion being: “The 4-4-2's interior is pleasant but not outstanding - mainly because it's a compromise between standard F-85 pieces and someone's idea of what a GT car's dashboard should look like.  It contains all the right instruments (if you specify the Rally Pack option), but they are condensed into one illegible dial flanking the speedometer on the left.  In the center of this dial is the smallest tachometer we've seen on any car, with oil pressure, water temperature and ammeter gauges spread around at 120^o intervals.  It looks more like a chrome-spangled battlefield than a serious attempt to convey information and is totally out of keeping with the quality of the engineering features on the rest of the car.”  The inclusion of a clock wasn’t mentioned; maybe it was thought just to add insult to injury and, given the critique, rating instrument legibility as “Fair” on the “Check List” must have seemed generous.

1967 Oldsmobile 4-4-2 Holiday Coupe W-30.

The 4-4-2 was Oldsmobile’s response to the Pontiac GTO, introduced in 1964 by the companion GM (General Motors) division.  The GTO (Pontiac shamelessly “borrowing” the name from Ferrari’s 250 GTO (Gran Turismo Omologato (ie car homologated for competition in the GT (grand-touring) category) was the template for the “muscle car” genre of the 1960s in that it used a big V8 from the full-sized range in the smaller, lighter, intermediate platform.  It was actually an old idea, practiced since the 1920s on both sides of the Atlantic, but the GTO institutionalized the concept and made it a commercial proposition on a scale never before known because of the then unique conjunction in 1960s America of a large cohort of males aged 17-25 with enough disposable income (or credit-worthiness) to pay for such things.  The GTO existed because Pontiac threaded the configuration through a loophole in the GM corporate rules designed to prevent such things being produced for road use but it sold in such volume at a pleasing profit margin that management’s scruples rapidly were discarded and the crazy years of the muscle car era lucratively began.  The GTO of course encouraged imitators from Ford, Chrysler and (eventually) even AMC but it also compelled three of GM’s other divisions (Chevrolet, Buick & Oldsmobile) to do their own interpretations.  Only Cadillac stood aloof but in 1970 they did put a 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at 400 (gross) HP in the FWD (front-wheel-drive) Eldorado which sounds a daft idea but the engineers disguised its inherent tendencies very well and the delivery of the 400 HP was a very different experience than something like that of the 375 Ford in the same year modestly claimed for the Boss 429 Mustang.

1970 Oldsmobile 442 Convertible, Official Pace Car (Indianapolis 500) Edition.

Though not original, GTO was of course a great name and the best Oldsmobile’s product-planners could come up with was 4-4-2, an allusion to the configuration (front to rear) of a four barrel carburetor, a four-speed manual gearbox and dual-exhausts.  Once explained it made sense but it remained a flaky name, something suffered by later imitators, Dodge’s “Super Bee” as good a car as Plymouth’s Road Runner but with nothing like the same brand-appeal.  Like Pontiac’s GTO, the 4-4-2 was originally an option package but such was the market response both became regular production models.  As it turned out, 4-4-2 did become “just a name” rather than a promise because in 1965 when, in order to be advertise the things at a lower base-price, a three-speed gearbox became standard with the four-speed moved to the option list but there was no 4-3-2: 4-4-2 they all remained which made sense because at various times one could be ordered with two, three or four-speed gearboxes, two, four or six-barrel induction and duel or single exhausts yet none were ever dubbed 2-3-1, 6-4-2 or any other permutation.  However, in an inconsistency at the time not untypical in the industry, although in 1968 the badge was changed from “4-4-2” to “442”, both descriptions continued for years to appear in documents and sales literature.

Horizontal integration: The Oldsmobile 442 was based on the underpinnings of the company's “Pursuit Apprehender” package offered to police forces but with a more powerful standard engine, meaning it could be harder for the police to apprehend a speeding 442.

Those who wonder how AI (artificial intelligence) bots can sometimes get answers wrong despite correct facts existing in publically accessible places on line must remember not everything represent as “fact” isn’t necessarily true.  While misinformation, disinformation and such can be expected in matters such as politics, it afflicts also even the details of something as uncontroversial as the option codes used by car manufacturers during the 1960s.  Despite the original source documents having for years been available on-line, it’s still sometimes repeated the Oldsmobile 442 option was listed as the RPO (Regular Production Option) B09 “Pursuit Apprehender” package.  The “Police Apprehender” packages were B01 (City Apprehender) and B07 (Highway Apprehender).  B09 was the RPO code for the 1964 442 package and it came with the same suspension configuration (springs, shocks, and front and rear anti-sway bars) as the B07 cars.  The B09 package included a 310 HP version of the 330 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8, distinguished from the “cooking” version mostly by a high-lift camshaft and less-restrictive air cleaner.  By default the B01 and B07 cars were fitted with a 290 HP version of the 330 although more powerful units could be specified and the B07 included a rear anti-sway bar.  So, all things considered, AI does remarkably well in distinguishing what’s right from what’s not.  The “gold standard” remains to “go back to source documents” and while that’s a simple (if time consuming) principle when dealing which physical copies, for AI bots handling digital data, it can be harder than it sounds.

2005 Maybach 62 rear compartment.

Those in the rear compartment of a Maybach got their own, roof-mounted analogue clock, flanked by a speedometer and thermometer, those built for the US market calibrated respectively in miles and Fahrenheit while kilometres and Celsius were used for those sold in other places.  The idea of rear passenger compartment instruments was not new and some remarkably comprehensive arrays appeared in some of the coach-built cars of the 1930s, at least one "twin cowl" phaeton having the entire dashboard replicated in the rear.

What is in English called “semantic shift” happened a bit in the industry, the 442 not the only example of the phenomenon.  The first of Chrysler’s 300 “letter-series” (1955-1965) gained its name to mark the then impressive power rating of 300 HP but that was retained even as power over the years rose.  The Buick Electra 225 (1959-1980) was so named because of its 225.4 (5,725 mm) length but the designation endured despite subsequent models variously shrinking or growing.  In structural linguistics, the nerds call this “lexical fossilization” the numeric or descriptive element remaining but becoming remote from the original, literal meaning. This covers also the survival of terms like “tape” or “dial”; “cable” is a bit of a gray area because even wireless transmissions ultimately are dependent on miles of cabling somewhere. “Heritage names” often are used for products far removed from their legacy.  Buick wasn't unique in using body length as a model description, the original Land Rover often designated by a reference to the wheelbase (eg a SWB (short wheelbase) “88” with a 88 inch (2,235 mm) wheelbase or a LWB (long wheelbase) “109” with a 109 inch (2,769 mm) wheelbase)  There was also the Maybach (2002-2013) an unfortunate venture by Mercedes-Benz after the Daimler board was convinced by the MBAs what was needed was a brand-name above Mercedes-Benz, a marque which had for some 75 years proved adequate for presidents, potentates, popes and such.  As a piece of engineering the Maybach was a reasonable achievement but its lacklustre sales illustrated the marketing principles (which successfully the MBAs can use for washing powder) aren’t universally applicable.  It was a coincidence but, on debut, at 5.728 mm (225.5 inches) the SWB Maybach was tenth of an inch longer than the 1959 Buick Electra 225 and was designated the “57”, the metric equivalent of “225”.  The LWB version, stretching to 6,165 mm (242.7 inches), was dubbed the “62”.  

1953 Kaiser Manhattan (left) and 1961 Chrysler 300G (left).

Although no other manufacturer put five separate functions in the one circular pod, others did do five-function clusters in a more elaborate housing but while Kaiser just appended a semi-circular surround for the ancillary gauges (fuel-level, coolant temperature, ammeter & oil pressure) Chrysler in 1960 introduced the “Astrodome”, the name one of many influenced by what was going on during the dawn of the space-age.  What the dramatic Astrodome did was offer the driver a “3D” effect by placing the four gauges in a staggered array on the steering column, using space usually taken by the transmission selector lever, that function moved to a push-button panel on the dashboard while the turn-signals were controled by a sliding lever; to complete the “space-race” look, buttons and knobs were prolific so although the ergonomics weren’t ideal, visually, the atmospherics were most fetching.

1961 Chrysler 300G.

The speedometer was calibrated to 150 mph (240 km/h) which was needed because, even in street trim, the most highly-tuned 300Gs easily could exceed 140 mph (225 km/h).  Despite the concerns sometimes expressed today, the tires of the era were safe to use at such speed (much had been learned from the tyres developed for use in aviation during World War II (1939-1945)) but the drum brakes of the era were inadequate.

Adding to the drama in 1960 was what Chrysler called “revolutionary Panelescent lighting” which was a fanciful term describing the use of electroluminescence (EL), an optical and electrical phenomenon, in which a material emits light in response to the passage of an electric current or to a strong electric field.  As implemented for the Panelescent system, as well as the soft blue backlighting, each gauge pointer was also an individual source of red light.  The Astrodome was used between 1960-1962 on a number of Chryslers including the “Letter-series” 300s and the New Yorker while EL remained in use until 1967; it was last seen on the first generation Dodge Charger (1966-1967).

Conventions in English and Ablaut Reduplication

In 2016, the BBC explained why we always say “tick-tock” rather than “tock-tick” although, based on the ticking of the clocks at the time the phrase originated, there would seem to be no objective reasons why one would prevail over the other but the “rule” can be constructed thus: “If there are three words then the order has to go I, A, O.  If there are two words then the first is I and the second is either A or O which is why we enjoy mish-mash, chit-chat, clip-clop, dilly-dally, shilly-shally, tip-top, hip-hop, flip-flop, tic tac, sing song, ding dong, King Kong & ping pong.  Obviously, the “rule” is unwritten so may be better thought a convention such as the one which dictates why the words in “Little Red Riding Hood” appear in the familiar order; there the convention specifies that in English, adjectives run in the textual string: opinion; size; age; shape; colour; origin; material; purpose noun.  Thus there are “little green men” but no “green little men” and if “big bad wolf” is cited as a violation of the required “opinion (bad); size (big); noun (wolf)” wolf, that’s because the I-A-O convention prevails, something the BBC explains with a number of examples, concluding “Maybe the I, A, O sequence just sounds more pleasing to the ear.”, a significant factor in the evolution of much that is modern English (although that hardly accounts for the enduring affection some have for proscribing the split infinitive, something which really has no rational basis in English, ancient or modern).  All this is drawn from what is in structural linguistics called “Ablaut Reduplication” (the first vowel is almost always a high vowel and the reduplicated vowel is a low vowel) but, being English, “there are exceptions” so the pragmatic “more pleasing to the ear” may be helpful in general conversation but, as a general principle, the linguistic convention operates to ensure we say “tick-tock” rather than “tock-tick”, driving the natural trochaic cadence.

“Tick-tock” is a trochee (in verse, a metrical foot containing a stressed (heavy) syllable followed by an unstressed (light) syllable) meaning in a natural form of speech more emphasis, volume, or pitch is placed on the first syllable and less on the second.  Poets call this the “DUM-da” (heavy-light) rhythm; it produces a “falling” rhythm and is thus the reverse of the iamb’s “rising” rhythm.  In the intricately detailed world of literary theory it’s noted that in Classical verse, trochaics were used from the time of the iambic poet Archilochus (circa 680–circa 645 BC) of the Archaic period (circa 800-480 BC) in Ancient Greece onwards, especially in drama and lyric poetry but despite the lineage (practiced also by the Romans), the technique appeared little in English verse prior to the sixteenth century when it began to be used as a stylistic device to provide variations in the iambic line, making it technically a class of “substitution”.  The rarity in English verse of works composed wholly in trochaics is accounted for by the monotony induced, heavy & light lending a contrast as useful to writers as dark and light does for painters.  In linguistics and psychology, “tick-tock” often is used to illustrate the Iambic-Trochaic Law.  Despite a mechanical clock (or a device in which the sounds are emulated) making two structurally identical clicking sounds, instinctively the human brain filters the sequence as a trochee by perceiving the first sound as louder or more prominent.

Rolls-Royce, the Ford LTD and NVH

Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II, 1959.  Interestingly, the superseded Silver Cloud (1955-1958) might have been quieter still because the new, aluminium 6¼ litre (380 cubic inch) V8 didn’t match the smoothness & silence of the previous, cast iron, 4.9 litre (300 cubic inch) straight-six, despite the V8 being remarkably heavy for something made substantially from "light metal".

The “tick-tocking” sound of a clock was for some years a feature of the advertising campaigns of the Rolls-Royce Motor Company, the hook being that: “At 60 mph (100 km/h) the loudest noise in a Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock”.  Motoring journalists did verify the claim (at least in ideal conditions) but given electric clocks can be engineered silently to function, the conclusion was the company deliberately fitted time-pieces which emitted an untypically loud “tick-tock”, just to ensure the claims were true.  The Silver Clouds were, by the standards of the time, very quiet vehicles but in the US, Ford decided they could mass-produce something quieter still and at the fraction of the cost.  Thus the 1965 Ford LTD, a blinged-up Ford (the add-on "gingerbread" in pre-bling days known as "gorp") advertised as: “Quieter than a Rolls-Royce”.

The test conditions were recorded as: “Dry, level, moderately smooth concrete divided highway; light quartering winds.  All cars operated at steady 20-, 40- and 60- mph with all vents closed”.  The two Rolls-Royces were both standard wheelbase Silver Cloud III saloons with the 6¼ litre (380 cubic inch) V8 and four-speed automatic transmissions while the three Fords (a Galaxie 500 LTD, a Galaxie 500/XL and a Galaxie 500 Four-Door Sedan) were all fitted with the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) V8 and three-speed Cruise-O-Matic automatic transmission.  The test results were certified by the USAC (United States Auto Club).

To ensure what must at the time have seemed an audacious claim couldn't be dismissed as mere puffery, J. Walter Thompson, then Ford’s advertising agency commissioned acoustical consultants Boldt, Beranek and Neuman to run tests, two brand new Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III saloons purchased for the project.  What the engineer’s decibel (dB) meters revealed was that, under conditions that were controlled but representative of much of the driving experience in the US, the Galaxies were indeed quieter inside than a Rolls-Royce.  Because of the way the dB scale works, the differences (as great as 5.5 dB) were quite large and obvious to the human ear.  It was a reasonable achievement in engineering and Ford, anticipating the ensuing controversy, was uncharacteristically modest in claiming their 2.8 dB advantage at 60 mph was only “slight”, the numbers making the point with no need for exaggeration.  Ford didn’t mention the tick-tock of the clock.

Ford Galaxie 500/XL advertising, 1965.  In the West, advertising has long been an exception to the general prohibition of the use of "child labor" (Lindsay Lohan was signed to Ford Models at the age of three and soon got her first gig!).

Ford did though “stack the deck”, a bit in configuring the Galaxies with their mildly tuned 289 V8 with a two-barrel carburettor; had the test included another variation on the full-size line which used the 427 (7.0) V8, the results would have been different, the raucous 427 side oiler offering many charms but they didn't extend to unobtrusiveness.  Still, the choice was reasonable because the tune of the 289 was more representative of what most people bought.  Amusingly, it wasn't the first time Rolls-Royce was surprised by the way things were done in Detroit.  Years earlier, the company had obtained a licence to manufacture Cadillac's four-speed Hydramatic automatic transmission, then the benchmark of its type.  Disassembling one, the Rolls-Royce engineers were surprised at the “rough finish” on some of the internal components and resolved their version would be built to their standards of precision.  That done, a lovingly built Hydramatic was installed in a car and tested, the engineers surprised to find it didn't work very well and offered nothing like the smooth operation of the original.  They contacted Cadillac and were told the prototype Hydramatics produced with universally fine tolerances had also misbehaved and the “roughness” of certain components deliberately was introduced to ensure the optimal frictional resistance was obtained.     

Ford Galaxie 500 LTD advertising, 1965.

Not much noticed at the time was another intrusion.  Although the trend had for years been creeping through the industry, what the 1965 LTD did was make blatant Ford's incursion into the market territory once reserved for the corporate stablemate, Mercury, the "middle class" brand between Ford & Lincoln.  This intra-corporate cannibalism (which had already seen Chrysler shutter its DeSoto division) would have consequences, one of which was Mercury's eventual demise, another being Ford's competitors, noting the LTD's success, bringing their own interpretations to the market, the most successful of which was the Chevrolet Caprice (which enjoyed the same relationship to the Impala as the LTD had to the Galaxie 500).  Notably, the Caprice contributed to the later extinction of the once highly popular Oldsmobile, squeezed from its niche by Chevrolet (from below) and Buick (from above).  What were once gaps in the market, catered to by specific brands, ceased to exist. 

1965 Ford LTD (technically a “Galaxie 500 LTD” because in the first season the LTD was a Galaxie option, not becoming a stand-alone model until the 1966 model year).

Even before the LTD was released the full-sized cars produced by the US industry featured the world's finest engine-transmission combinations and Ford justly deserves credit for what was achieved in 1965 because it wasn’t an exercise merely in adding sound insulation.  The previous models had a good reputation for handling and durability but couldn’t match the smoothness and ride of competitive Chevrolets so within Ford was created a department dedicated to what came to be called HVH (Noise, Vibration & Harshness) and this team cooperated in what would now be understood as a “multi-disciplinary” effort, working with body engineers and suspension designers to ensure all components worked in harmony to minimize NVH.  The idea was to craft a platform which, at least on the billiard table like surfaces of the nations freeways, would match the powertrains for smoothness and that was a task which would absorb much time and effort because the mildly-tuned V8 engines most customers bough were unobtrusive in their delivery and the automatic transmissions didn't so much change gears as slur effortlessly between ratios.

Ford Galaxie 500 LTD (with "Body/Chassis Puck") advertising with , 1965.

What emerged was a BoF (Body on Frame) platform (a surprise to some as the industry trend had been towards unitary construction) to ensure the stiffest possible structure but the combination of the frame’s rubber body-mounts (which Ford dubbed "pucks" because of their similarity in size and shape to the rubber disks used in ice hockey), robust torque boxes and a new, more compliant, coil-spring rear suspension delivered what even the competition's engineers (though probably not the sales staff) acknowledged was the industry’s quietest, smoothest ride.  To solve the problem of troublesome vibrations, the material had before come to the rescue, a rubber layer for the carburettor mountings proving the solution to the resonance which, at certain road speeds, affected the flow of the fuel-air mix in the MGA Twin-Cam, resulting in pistons melting.  Alas, the fix was discovered too late and the MGA was doomed.  Norton had better luck with their Isolastic, a rubber-based engine mounting which disguised the chronic vibration on the Commando's 750 cm³ parallel twin, allowing the company (as something of a last gasp) to extract a (sometimes profitable) decade from what was an antiquated design.

Ford LTD advertising, 1980.  The choice of that Rolls-Royce was interesting, powder blue Silver Shadows not often seen.

In geopolitics and economics, much changed between 1965 and 1980.  Whereas Ford had once been able prove their Galaxie range (US$2,800-4,800) was quieter than a US$17,000 Rolls-Royce, by 1980 a LTD (the Galaxie name, dating from 1959 was retired after the 1974 season) sold typically for between US$6,400-8,000, reflecting the inflation which became entrenched during the 1970s.  That was representative of the effect on domestically produced cars but an "entry-level" (the concept really was used even of cars from the more exulted) Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow cost a minimum US$65,000-odd and if that wasn't thought sufficiently conspicuous consumption, there was rather ungainly the two-door Camargue (1975-1986) which listed at US$148,000.  That made even the blingiest (the stuff then still called "gingerbread", bling a coining from the late 1990s) LTD at US$8000 look good value although the few customers who bought Camargues (globally, barely more than 500 sold in a decade of leisurely production) probably weren't cross-shopping.  Ford in the era made a bit of a thing of comparing their locally produced machines with high-priced stuff from across the Atlantic, one campaign showing how closely the US Granada (1975-1982) resembled various Mercedes-Benz and visually (if not dynamically) the company had a point... up to a point.  These days it's Chinese designers who are accused of plagiarism although they often are more blatant in their copying, indeed, so shameless did things become that even the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) controlled courts granted relief to the Europeans.  Reckoning however what worked in 1965 would still strike a (quiet) chord 15 years on, Ford re-ran their tests and, in a regulatory environment which was rather more exacting on advertising claims, asserted only that "The 1980 Ford LTD rides as quietly as a $65,000 Rolls-Royce".  The tick-tock of the clock still didn't rate a mention.

1969 Chevrolet Corvette centre console with electro-mechanical clock in lower-left pod.

Rolls-Royce may once have made an audible tick-tock a selling point but it’s also a part of the upper reaches of the collector market in which C2 (1963-1967) and C3 (1968-1982) Chevrolet Corvettes are traded.  In that niche, it’s something of a joke if an advertisement for one of these cars is placed including the line: “The clock does not work” because it’s rare to find one that does.  That’s because until the 1981 model year, every C2 & C3 Corvette came with a factory-fitted analogue, electro-mechanical clock manufactured by Borg Instruments, a spring-wound device with an electric winder.  The way these worked was typical of the type in that the spring mechanism was reset once a minute, the winder dependent on a set of 12-volt contact points closing every 60 seconds, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  That's more than 525,000 open/close cycles annually and even if operating in an ideal test environment (a temperature, humidity & pressure controlled, dust-free vacuum with no movement or vibration), eventually, there would be component failure.

1981 Chevrolet Corvette centre console with oil temperature gauge in lower-left pod.

In the real world, these failures came sooner and with greater frequency.  Operating correctly, as the contact points closed, a coil would transmit a pulse to open them, giving the device another minute of run-time, this process repeating endlessly (or until the point of failure) although, as the coil became weaker, the points did not open as widely so the run-time shortened; it was thus typical for a Corvette’s clock to become inaccurate before it stopped and even without looking at the dial, the mechanism’s health could be assessed by timing the duration between clicks as the coil reset the winder.  Of course, this being a Corvette, unlike a Rolls-Royce, this could be heard only when the engine was not running.  The Borg analogue instrument can be serviced and unless any parts physically are broken, in most cases cleaning with isopropyl alcohol and then lubricating the movement should restore the functionality although these clocks are now many decades old and further failures are inevitable.  Similar devices were used for many cars in the era but it seems only the Corvette community in which such interest is taken.

Quartz clock for 1981-1982 Chevrolet Corvette.  Although quartz movements in clocks had existed in laboratories since the 1920s, not until 1959 did they enter commercial use and it was another decade before the (very expensive) Seiko Quartz Astron 35SQ wristwatch appeared.

Servicing or repairing a Borg is undertaken if the Corvette is especially valuable and in otherwise original configuration.  Otherwise, the usual (and often cheaper) course is to use a reproduction clock with a quartz movement.  Visually, the look from within the cockpit is identical and the only difference (other than improved accuracy and reliability) is the second hand “silently sweeps” rather than “audibly ticks”.  That, few would notice but the originality police judging cars at shows do have a “clock” section on their clipboards and for Corvettes which left the factory with a Borg, a “tick-tock” will attract another valuable tick.  Chevrolet in 1981 did replace the Borg with a quartz device so for Corvettes built subsequently, the clock section on the clipboard is shorter.  Cars with rare “radio delete option” or with either of the analogue radios (AM/FM mono or the optional AM/FM stereo) continued to have a clock in the lower pod opening in the central gauge cluster while those any of the four ETR radios (AM/FM Stereo 8-Track, AM/FM Stereo 8-Track with CB Radio, AM/FM Stereo Cassette, & AM/FM Stereo Cassette with CB Radio) had the time reported by a digital readout on the radio’s faceplate, an oil temperature gauge in the lower left pod.  In a final horological C3 footnote, for the model's swansong seasons (1981-1982), the clock in the console pod received on its face the notation “QUARTZ” in bold white letters.  In truth, time had some years earlier caught up with the C3 but the new clock was a reassuring touch of modernity.

1982 Chevrolet Corvette centre console with quartz clock in lower-left pod.

For 1977, the ammeter had been replaced with a voltmeter but more obvious was a restyling of the gauge housings, the pods no longer circular but now a “circle with a flattened base”.  Curiously, despite mathematicians over the centuries having given a name to just about every basic shape imaginable, there seems to be no standard geometric term for a “circle with a flattened base” although obviously, because a circle is defined as “a shape in which all points are equally distant from the centre”, once part of the circumference is replaced by a straight line, the figure is no longer a circle.  Technically (if clumsily), such a “truncated circle” would seem properly to be a “circular segment cut off by a chord” but that's words so engineers and architects resort usually to “chord-flat circle”.  It seems a strange omission from the lexicon of geometry because, in the real world, the shape often is used for certain tubes, ducts, pipes and such.  When a flat side appears with a half-circle, in design, that’s a “D-shape”; strictly speaking that should be applied only if used with a “true” half-circle in which the straight line is the diameter although, in casual use, there’s likely a bit of leeway.

What's needed in one's quartz conversion kit.

Physics makes it not possible to make a Corvette’s electro-mechanical clock as reliable or accurate as a quartz unit but Zip-Corvette can supply all the parts to convert an original to a quartz movement and Corvette Magazine published the instructions.

Whether the appearance of four truncated circles and one circle within the one housing disturbed some seems never to been a topic of discussion in the on-line Corvette forums which is unusual given every other aspect of the now almost 75 year old line has been analysed, discussed and squabbled over.  It’s an urban myth those with OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) all are bothered by things being asymmetrical or aesthetically inconsistent for while the most recent edition (DSM-5-TR (2022)) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders does not classify the condition as a spectrum condition, it does in a specific diagnostic chapter note a variety of manifestations.  That may include a heightened sensitivity to visual irregularities but that’s experienced also by those thought “perfectionists” and is thus not OCD-specific although the condition is associated with individuals highly attentive to patterns and consistency.  So, there would be those diagnosed with OCD not at all concerned by the asymmetry (because their condition manifests in other aspects) while it would annoy some without OCD just because they don’t like the look.  It’s likely there would have been owners who for some time didn’t notice the different shape of the clock’s pod because, “at first glance”, as a product of culturally-defined expectation, human vision would tend to see “round gauges” although, once recognized, the variation would be obvious.  That however is a documented perceptual phenomenon and unrelated to OCD.

1981 Chevrolet Corvette.  It's not a big cockpit so it'd be difficult for a trypophobic to avert their gaze; eyes should probably be kept shut for duration of trip and purists might anyway do this because while the Camel Leather trim (code 642) is original, the plastic timber appliqué was not a factory part-number.

Of course, those suffering trypophobia (a morbid aversion to closely packed holes) won't like the C3's gauge cluster regardless of the shape of the pods.  The construct of trypophobia was from the Ancient Greek τρῦπα (trûpa) (hole) or τρυπάω (trupáō) (bore), +‎ -phobia φόβος (phóbos) (fear, phobia); first seen on the internet in 2005, not all in the field accept it as a “real” condition.  Doubtless it’s rare but to be a syndrome, something need not be widespread; just a single patient is enough for a condition to be defined.  For those wondering if they may be sufferers, Healthline lists possible symptoms as goose-bumps, chills, or the sensation of your skin crawling; gagging or nausea; sweating; rapid heartbeat; dizziness or light-headedness; visual discomfort, including eye strain, distortions, or illusions; a general sense of discomfort or distress; a strong desire to get away from the image or object; feelings of panic or a panic attack; shaking or trembling.  If, upon one’s first encounter with a C3 Corvette’s gauge cluster, at least some of these symptoms appear, one may be a trypophobe.