Situationism

Situationism (pronounced sich-oo-ey-shuh-niz-uhm)

(1) A fork of Marxist political philosophy, a collection of (often abstract) theories used to build critiques of existing structures.  The overt political project emerged from the merging of a number of politically-minded, mid-twentieth century avant-garde art movement.  

(2) A theory in psychology which holds that personality and behavior is influenced more by external, situational factors than internal traits or motivations.

1955: A compound word: situation + ism.  Situation was from the early fifteenth century Middle English situacioun & situacion (place, position, or location), from Middle French situation, from the Old French situacion, from the Medieval Latin situationem (nominative situatio) (position, situation), the construct being situare (to locate, to place), from situs (a site, a position), thus situate +‎ -ion.  The Latin situs was from the primitive Indo-European root tkei (to settle, dwell, be home).  The meaning "state of affairs" was from 1710, extended specifically by 1803 to mean "a post of employment".  The suffix -ion was from the Middle English -ioun, from the the Old French -ion, from the Latin -iō (genitive -iōnis).  It was appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process.  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  The use in political philosophy technically dates from 1955 (as situation ethics) although its origins can be traced to (at least) the nineteenth-century beginnings of sociology.  It was first seen in applied psychology in 1968 (as situational ethics) with publication of a monograph by Walter Mischel (1930-2018) who in later writings displayed some ambivalence.  Situationism is a noun, situationist is a noun & adjective and situationally is an adverb; the noun plural is situationisms.

The Internationale Situationiste (Situationist International)

Formed in 1957, dissolved in 1972 and eventually more a concept than a movement, the Situationist International (SI) was a trans-European collective of avant-garde artists and political radicals envisaged as a fusion of art & revolutionary activism; although originally a loose structure, it was later noted for its rigidity and its core critique was of modern consumer society, particularly under advanced capitalism. Influenced by criticism that philosophy had tended increasingly to fail at the moment of its actualization, the SI, although it assumed the inevitability of social revolution, always maintained many (cross-cutting) strands of expectations of the form(s) this might take but, just as a world-revolution did not follow the Russian upheavals of 1917, the events of May, 1968 failed to realize the predicted implications; the SI can be said then to have died with the discursive output between 1968-1972 treated either as a lifeless aftermath to an anti-climax or a bunch of bitter intellectuals serving as mourners at their own protracted funeral.

SI art: The Change (1957), paint on hardwood by Ralph Rumney (1934-2002).

The SI’s origins were in the north-western Italian town Cosio di Arroscia where, during a conference, several experimental art movements resolved to merge, the most prominent being (1) the Lettrist International, (2) the International Movement for an Imaginist Bauhaus and (3) the London Psychogeographical Association.  Tellingly, although many original members were focused on the imagery of art, the most influential figure was the French theorist Guy Debord (1931-1994) who had in left-wing circles become fashionable after the publication of a number of essays in which he argued modern capitalist societies had become dominated by what he called “spectacle”.  That was the thesis he most fully explored in his most famous work, The Society of the Spectacle (1967) which asserted: (1) social life had become mediated by images, media & commodities, (2) real human relations were being replaced by a passive consumption of representations and (3) individuals increasingly experienced life as spectators rather than participants.  What all this meant was Western society had become a system where appearance (depictions of a “construct of reality” which were simulacrums) had replaced lived experience.

SI Agitprop.

Despite the political slant, when formed, the SI certainly retained an identity as something artistic and although membership was erratic with factional alignments constantly shifting, there always was a strain which valued the art for its intrinsic qualities at least as much as for any utility as propaganda pieces; indeed, it was the notion of art abstracted from some purpose which was the SI's constant fault-line.  Those most influential in the early days of the SI had been much affected by the physical damage suffered by so many European cities during World War II (1939-1945) and especially the possibilities offered by re-building, thus the interest in concepts like unitary urbanism and psychogeography, essentially a response to the sociological aspects of the re-construction of those cities in the immediate post-war period.

SI propaganda: The Situationist Times 6: International Parisian Edition, Paris, December 1967.

The Situationist Times was an international, English-language periodical created and edited by Dutch artist Jacqueline de Jong (1939–2024), six issues published between 1962-1967.  Envisaged as a radical compendium encompassing Situationist tactics such as détournement and a printed form of dérive, the journals included essays, artwork, “found” images, and fragments of works concerned with such issues as topology, politics, and spectacle culture.  In the anarchist sprit of the collective, Ms De Jong insisted the periodical must be a “completely free magazine, based on the most creative of the Situationist ideas” and what appears on the pages does over the years show traces of the political and aesthetic schisms which would characterize the SI.  As well as the SI’s usual suspects, contributors included the English astrophysicist Sir Fred Hoyle (1915–2001) who (inadvertently) coined the term “big bang” and the French writer Noël Arnaud (pen name of Raymond Valentin Muller (1919- 2003) of the school of pataphysics (one of the late nineteenth century’s more curious alternatives to orthodox science which may (as QAnon seems to have) begun as a joke but took on a life because it so appealed to people who “wanted it to be true”).  With the failures of the Parisian revolutionaries in 1968, SI’s historic moment passed and the seventh edition of The Situationist Times, (The Pinball Issue) remained incomplete and was not published although extracts of the content have appeared.

SI Art: Untitled (Peinture collective situationniste) (1961).

As was done with the SI's “pieces by the collective”, Guy Debord and Jeppesen Victor Martin (1930–1993) signed along with eight other artists; within two years all except Debord and Martin had been expelled so in that sense, no work better illustrates the creative tensions which rent the SI.  Those “cancelled” in some cases regarded their erasure from the SI rolls as a badge of honor and Debord couldn't have them burned at the stake or taken outside and shot (which had over the years been the fate of a few artists who displeased a dictator) so there was that.  

Prior to the formation of the SI, some of what had been written about the form the physical reconstruction of post-war Europe should take had attracted interest from political theorists, especially those in anti-authoritarian Marxist circles who would come to position themselves as the inheritors of western political liberalism, notably the Lettrist International (formed in 1952).  In the way the European left did things in the early post-war years, the SI was conceived as an even more radical collective movement which wholly would renounce any connection with high-art and deal instead with the functional business of psychogeography, dissolving rather than exploring the boundaries between life and art.  However, whatever might have been the purity of the founders' intentions, because what the SI produced was eye-catchingly visual, it attracted practitioners in many fields of art and an audience which enjoyed the supposedly subversive pieces as just another spectacle.  That was tribute to the striking posters but wasn’t something which best pleased the uncompromising activists who viewed art merely as something with a revolutionary political purpose; factions formed and any commonality of interest between the utilitarians and the artists proved insufficiently strong to maintain the SI as a unified movement.  From formation to extinction, inherently it was fissiparous although, while members could be kicked out of the SI, it didn't mean their work ceased and the Scandinavian Drakabygget group (noted for the memorably titled Journal for art against atomic bombs, popes and politicians) essentially ignored their expulsion and continued to exhibit and publish in the Situationists vein.

SI art: Industrial Painting (1958), monoprinted oil paint, acrylic paint & typographic ink on canvas by Giuseppe Pinot-Gallizio (1902–1964).

Unrolled from a wooden spool and extending just over 75 metres (246 feet) Industrial Painting was one of a series of abstract works Pinot-Gallizio painted in this mode.  Unspooling in a swirl of blotches of colors, the idea was to recall the vibrancy of figures moving along a city’s streets and a deliberate limitation of the design was only some 9 metres (30 feet) could be displayed at one time, the idea being to emulate a journey in which much of what’s just been seen fades or vanishes from memory as the traveller proceeds along their path.  In an indication of the way the SI worked in an industrial age, Pinot-Gallizio made these works on his “painting machine” which he built with mechanical rollers attached to a long table.  What emerged was, in contrast to most of what came from “conveyor-belt” mass production, chaotic and wholly unique.

Modern situationist; modern spectacle: French content creator & author Léna Situations (Léna Mahfouf, b 1997), in Georges Hobeika (b 1962) black gown with inverted V-neckline (technically a wedge), Academy Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, March 2026.

Ms Mahfouf uses “Léna Situations” as an online pseudonym because that was the name of the fashion & lifestyle-focused blog she, as a teen-ager, created in 2012; it gained her a “brand identity” and was thus for some purposes retained in adulthood.  The blog would have seemed familiar to the members of the SI because her concept was sharing fragments of her life in different “situations” which might be defined by the place, the outfit worn or what was being experienced so was thus a series of spectacles, able to be understood as fragmentary relics of time & place or a series of narratives.  Using that model, platforms like Instagram have allowed just about everybody to become a situationist and while Debord didn’t live to see such things, he’d have recognized (if not approved) “social lives mediated by images, media & commodities”.

Charli XCX (stage-name of English singer-songwriter Charlotte Emma Aitchison (b 1992)) in a Christopher John Rogers (b 1993) white fit & flare dress with ruffled peplum, featuring a more conventional implementation of the V-neckline.

Ms Mahfouf's retention of a youthful online pseudonym is not unique, Charli XCX another example.  The star herself revealed the stage name is pronounced chahr-lee ex-cee-ex; it has no connection with Roman numerals and XCX is anyway not a standard Roman number.  XC is “90” (C minus X (100-10)) and CX is “110” (C plus X (100 +10)) but, should the need arise, XCX could be used as a code for “100”, on the model of something like the “May 35th” reference Chinese internet users, when speaking of the “Tiananmen Square Incident” of 4 June 1989, adopted in an attempt to circumvent the CCP's (Chinese Communist Party) “Great Firewall of China” censorship apparatus.  In 2015, Ms XCX revealed the text string was an element in her MSN screen name (CharliXCX92) when young (it stood for “kiss Charli kiss”) and, after appearing in the early publicity for her music, it gained critical mass so Charli XCX we still have.

SI art: Lettre à mon fils (Letter to my son, 1956-1957), oil on canvas by Asger Jorn (1914-1973).

What quickly coalesced as the core of situationist theory was the concept of the spectacle, an explanation of the mechanism of advanced capitalism’s modern tendency towards expression and mediation of social relations through objects and for structuralists it was a compelling model.  It was beyond a critique of materialism and might have been more effective had the SI been able to resist using the increasingly layered and complex language of the mid-twentieth century Marxist discourse, a sub-set of language which would come to delight academic deconstructionists but often baffled others.  As well as Debord’s writings, Belgium philosopher Raoul Vaneigem’s (b 1934) The Revolution of Everyday Life (1968) was a seminal work; in the riots of 1968, both proved influential, less as entire texts than as sources for the epigrammatic and graffiti-friendly phrases (Sous les pavés, la plage! (Under the paving stones, the beach!), L’ennui est contre-révolutionnaire (Boredom is counter-revolutionary) and Ne travaillez jamais (Never work!) among the most replicated) which appeared all over French cities during the uprising.  In that, the SI thus proved the primacy of objects in social relations (whether hegemonic or not) although the SI generally held that “situationism” was a meaningless term, a position necessitated by their inherent rejection of ideologies, all of which they dismissed either as useless utopian myths or constructed superstructures existing only to create the social controls required to serve the economic interests of a ruling elite.  Much of the history of the SI was one faction rejecting another; indeed, the SI’s transition from artistic to political movement was less organic than disruptive.

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

The critique of the consumer society resonated strongly with student radicals who were the failed revolutionaries of 1968 but, remarkably for a crew which was so influential on mass-movements, the SI was always tiny (it wasn’t untypical for there to be fewer than two-dozen active members) with internal conflicts and expulsions common, Debord given frequently to banishing members he believed had compromised the group’s revolutionary aims, the worst sin of heretics apparently the creation of art which shocked by virtual of its appearance but did nothing to in anyway transform society; comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) might have called such transgressors “formalists”.  Neglected for decades, the concepts developed by the SI attracted renewed interest in the social media age as much of what they’d described suddenly seemed familiar.  Key SI concepts included (1) psychogeography (the study of how urban environments affect emotions and behaviour, (2) dérive (drift) in which a wander through a city was documented with illustrative images, (3) détournement (appropriating using existing cultural elements (advertisements, comics, artworks etc) and, in subversive ways, repurposing them to undermine their original ideological message) and (4) constructed situations which were “moments of life” (events, environments, experiences) created for no purpose other than breaking the passivity of everyday existence.  If all that sounds something like what may have appeared in the check-list used by the designers of Instagram, TikTok and such, it hints (1) the SI may have been onto something and (2) as US billionaire investor Warren Buffett (b 1930) put it when explaining the outcome of class warfare: “We won”.

A requiem for the SI: No Title (1975-1976), lithograph on paper by Constant Niewwenhuys (1920-2005).

Debord no more wanted the SI to be what would come to be called a “think tank” any more than he wanted an artist’s colony but certainly envisaged it as a theoretical vanguard rather than a conventional political organization, his view being that even if created as something “revolutionary”, such movements tended to be “captured” (ie absorbed into the very system they were created to subvert or at least oppose).  That was why the orthodox SI position was not to exhibit their works in galleries or museums because, in the spirit of Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980) notion “the medium is the message”, once radical art was hung in such places, it became merely another commodity in the “spectacle”, dissenters accused of “recuperation” (a SI concept in which radical ideas had been neutralized and absorbed by mainstream culture).  So, members who were judged to have misunderstood or diluted Situationist orthodoxy (ie disagreed with Debord) were expelled, the rationale being what was valued in adherents was “quality rather than quantity”.  Although supposedly in the tradition of Marxist collective decision-making, Debord exercised extraordinary informal authority within the SI (despite the group officially rejecting hierarchy) and in practice, personally defined the SI’s theoretical parameters.  In a nice touch which would be familiar in places like the Soviet Union, the DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea)) or the modern Republican Party’s MAGA (Make America Great Again) faction, the “culture of exclusion” was ritualized in the journal Internationale Situationniste which regularly would publish lists of those un-personed (including the reasons), the former members denounced in harsh language, the worst insults including accusations of “theoretical confusion” and the practicing of mere “pseudo-Situationism”; by the time of dissolution in 1972, the membership consisted of Debord and one remaining loyal soul.  The SI, at least in the more reductionist works, did create some genuinely interesting critiques of the post-war West and some of the early art was, if not exactly novel, certainly stark and compelling.  However, it remains hard to identify enough ideas to justify the volume of text produced and phrasing it in what was surely deliberately difficult language does suggest there was an attempt to conceal the repetition of thought.

Birdcage

Birdcage (pronounced burd-keyj)

(1) A cage for confining birds (built traditionally with wire or wicker and used also as bird cage & bird-cage).

(2) Something that in form (at any scale) resembles (even vaguely) the construction of a birdcage.

(3) In aviation industry slang, the airspace over an airport and the aircraft there in flight.

(4) An area on a racecourse where horses parade before a race (“paddock” preferred in US use).

(5) In US slang, a used-car lot (now rare).

1480–1490: The construct was bird + cage.  Bird was a pre-900 form, from the Middle English byrd, from the Old English bridd & brid (which in the Northumbrian dialect was “bird”) (young bird, chick; feathered, warm-blooded vertebrate animal of the class Aves).  The Old English bird was an unusual collateral form of bridd and originally meant “young bird, nestling” whereas the typical Old English for bird was fugol, related to the noun fowl, of uncertain origin with no known cognates in any other Germanic language (speculated links to umlaut dismissed by etymologists).  Because birds are a creature doubtlessly noticed and in some form named by people since the early days of human evolution, it’s not surprising it believed variants in Middle English may go back to “an ancient period”.  From the early to mid-fourteenth century, “bird” increasingly supplanted “fowl” as the most common term.

Cage dates from 1175–1225 and was from the Middle English cage (and the earlier forms kage & gage), from the Old French cage (prison; retreat, hideout), from the Latin cavea (hollow place, enclosure for animals, coop, hive, stall, dungeon, spectators' seats in a theatre), the construct being cav(us) (hollow) + -ea, the feminine of -eus (the adjectival suffix); a doublet of cadge and related to jail.  The Latin cavea was the source also of the Italian gabbia (basket for fowls, coop).  The noun (box-like receptacle or enclosure, with open spaces, made of wires, reeds etc) typically described the barred-boxes used for confining domesticated birds or wild beasts was the first form and from circa 1300 was used in English to describe “a cage for prisoners, jail, prison, a cell”.  To “rattle someone's cage” is to upset or anger them, based on the reaction from imprisoned creatures (human & animal) to the noise made by shaking their cages.  The noun bird-cage (also birdcage) was in the late fifteenth century formed to describe a "portable enclosure for birds", as distinct from the static cages which came to be called aviaries.  The verb (to confine in a cage, to shut up or confine) dates from the 1570s and was derived from the noun.  The synonyms for the verb include crate, enclosure, jail, pen, coop up, corral, fold, mew, pinfold, pound, confine, enclose, envelop, hem, immure, impound, imprison, incarcerate, restrain & close-in.  Cage is a noun, verb and (occasional) adjective, caged & caging are verbs (used with object) and constructions include cage-less, cage-like, re-cage; the noun plural is cages.  Birdcage is a noun; the noun plural is birdcages.

The term gilded cage (often heard in the form “trapped in a gilded cage” describes a place (or situation) which superficially is attractive but is in some way constraining; a comfortable but confined situation.  The point of the “gilded cage” is the “effective confinement” is achieved not by the “cage” but by the unwillingness of the confined to relinquish the luxury of their “gilded lifestyle”; it’s thus a self-imposed “imprisonment”, certain comfort valued more than the uncertainties of freedom.  The term is thought to have been coined by the writers of the popular song A Bird in a Gilded Cage (1900).  History (some of it recent) is littered with examples of those “trapped in a gilded cage” and overwhelming they’re well-bred women, compelled for various reasons (dynastic, financial, political etc) to marry someone not of their choice.  A classic example of the adage “for everything you do there’s a price to be paid”, the best documented are the most miserable but the phenomenon is an illustration of the way what ultimately matters is not the situation in which one finds oneself but how one reacts.

Consuelo Vanderbilt (circa 1900), oil on canvas by Paul César Helleu (1859–1927).

Consuelo Vanderbilt (1877-1964) was the most illustrious of the American “dollar princesses” who crossed the Atlantic to marry increasingly impoverished members of the British aristocracy.  Unhappily (and tearfully), aged 18, she became Duchess of Marlborough, diligently and dutifully (for a while) fulfilling the role her father’s money had purchased.  The French painter Paul César Helleu was noted for his portraits of society women of the Belle Époque and, working on commission, he was not above flattery but there’s no doubt he captured the beauty of the slender Consuelo and they may have had had an affair, a diversion not uncommon among dollar princesses chaffing against the bars of their gilded cage.  While in the history texts most in gilded cages are there because they led tortured, unhappy lives, there were some who resolved to “make the best of things” and just try to enjoy the gild: taking the rough with the smooth as it were.  F Scott Fitzgerald (1896–1940) in The Great Gatsby (1925) described Daisy Buchanan as a “golden girl” who had opted for the security of marrying money and was thus consigned to life as a “beautiful little fool” in a “gilded cage of class and gender politics.”  There are worse ways to live and as George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950) observed, while money may not buy happiness, surely it is better to be miserable and rich than miserable and poor.   

Lindsay Lohan in The Birdcage, Flemington Racecourse, Melbourne, Victoria, Spring Carnival Derby Day, 2 November, 2019.

The origin of the curious use of “birdcage” to describe the enclosed area where horses are saddled and walked before and after a race lies in an architectural analogy, the space enclosed traditionally by light iron railings, often decorative, painted white and closely spaced.  Spectators standing beyond the perimeter looked at the horses, much as one looks at birds inside an aviary; the metaphor thus “perspectival”.  In truth, the usually the circular or polygonal enclosure didn’t really resemble a large ornamental cage but the construction of the ironwork did recall the sides of a “birdcage” although obviously there was no need exactly to replicate the design, horses being unable, Pegasus-like, to “fly away”.  The term remains in common use in the UK, Australia and New Zealand where it had become part of the “social scene” of race days, the photographs published on society pages or Instagram often taken from “the birdcage”; at some tracks the spectator area has been remodelled for exactly that purpose with appropriate promotional backdrops.  In North America, used of “birdcage” in this context is rare, “paddock” the preferred term.

A similar linguistic adaptation was the “bullpen” (in baseball, an enclosed area for pitchers to practice in or “warm up”), the word possibly borrowed from rodeos where it literally was the (well-fenced) holding area for bulls.  In baseball, “bullpen” became a collective noun for pitchers and functioned as a synecdoche.  From the sport, it spread and came to be used figuratively to describe (1) “a place for someone or something to get prepared for some purpose” and (2) a military prison or its enclosing stockade.  Some decades after bullpen entered the vernacular of the sport, leagues were formed for women’s baseball and although in ranching the term “cowpen” (fenced area for holding cows) was well-known, baseball sensibly decided its nomenclature etymologically was detached from biological sex so assembled female pitchers also warmed-up in a bullpen and despite a recent trend towards gender-neutrality in sporting terminology, “bullpen” survived as fossilized baseball jargon.  Linguistically uncontroversial in the sport was “birdcage mask” which was the protective mask worn by catchers, the “birdcage element” referring to the thick wire structure protecting the face while still permitting adequate vision.

Lindsay Lohan (birdcage scene), Rumors (Official Music Video) from Speak (2004).

The origin of the use in baseball is contested although all seem to agree it came into use very early in the twentieth century.  One explanation is that by then it had become common for late-coming spectators to be cordoned off in a “standing room” area in “foul territory” (to the sides of the field where any ball hit was deemed “out of bounds”) and, noting the laggards were “herded like cattle”, “bullpen” was borrowed from the rodeo.  When those areas were re-purposed as the pitchers warm-up space, the designation stuck and the notion relief pitchers were once viewed “bullish” in temperament is thought one of baseball’s many myths.  An alternative theory is the use was at least influenced by the outfield fences at baseball grounds once often displaying advertisements for Bull Durham tobacco and in front of these relief pitchers would wait to be called into play and the use was thus associated with the billboards but for this there’s no documentary evidence. 

The Berghof, circa 1940.

By definition, a birdcage is of course “something in which one keeps one’s pet bird” but they can be also, certainly in their more elaborate forms, a decorative piece of furniture, a symbol of domesticity in the same way George Orwell (1903-1950) in Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1936) used the Aspidistra plant as an identifier of the middle-class though in fairness to the reputation of the perennial herbaceous plant, their popularity in English houses owed much to them being among the species most tolerant of the sometimes smoky atmosphere in an era when coal and wood burned on open fireplaces was a common form of heating.  They were thus an ideal house plant, being tolerant of neglect and suited to shade while their luxuriant growth meant they were effective oxygenators of air high in CO₂.  

Art Nouveau brass birdcage on conforming tripod stand.  The piece featured a domed tops, lift-out trays, swing perch and two small bird-seed feeders.

Tough, the Aspidistra wasn’t exactly “unkillable” but one really had to try and the plants thus were for generations something of a middle class fixture; it was in this sense Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), in his (sometimes reliable) memoir Erinnerungen (Memories or Reminiscences) and published in English as Inside the Third Reich (1969) noted the birdcage in Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) country house, some years before it was enlarged in the sprawling complex centred on the Berghof:  “After Berchtesgaden came the steep mountain road full of potholes, until we arrived at Hitler's small, pleasant wooden house on Obersalzberg.  It had a wide overhanging roof and modest interior: a dining room, a small living room, and three bedrooms. The furniture was bogus old-German peasant style and gave the house a comfortable petit-bourgeois look.  A brass canary cage, a cactus, and a rubber plant intensified this impression. There were swastikas on knickknacks and pillows embroidered by admiring women, combined with, say, a rising sun or a vow of ‘eternal loyalty.’  Hitler commented to me with some embarrassment: ‘I know these are not beautiful things, but many of them are presents.  I shouldn't like to part with them.’”  Speer made no mention of a canary or any other bird sitting in the cage and nor is there a reference in contemporary accounts; that is in keeping with Hitler’s known views on how animals should be treated and while his attitudes to humanity proved reprehensible, those on wildlife were quite enlightened.

Art Deco birdcage.

Although there’s obviously some functional overlap, as well as birdcages, there are birdhouses, coops, aviaries, pigeon lofts.  A birdhouse is a “small house” for birds (and known also as a nest box).  Made usually of wood and mounted somewhere the residents will be protected from ground-dwelling predators, birdhouses are outdoor structures designed not to imprison wild birds but provide them a shelter where they can build nests.  A coop (in this context) is a place where birds are kept but while a birdcage is for a household pet, a coup is for productive (egg-laying and sometimes feathers or meat) birds and are enclosures built outside, partially enclosed (“chicken coops” the best known).  The word aviary has a wide vista and can be anything from a relatively small structure housing two or more birds to vast zoo-like areas in which there may be a mix of captive and wild creatures.  A pigeon loft (known also as a dovecote) is a specialized type of birdhouse, often placed on a building’s roof or other elevated spot in which domestic pigeons are bred and housed, usually for use in the sport of pigeon racing; the element “loft” tends to be used irrespective of the location of the structure.  A synonym was columbarium, from the Latin columbārium, the construct being columb(a) (pigeon) +‎ -ārium (place for) and because the sport became popular among the aristocracy of the Ancien Régime (circa 1500-1789) in France, the construction of columbaria because something of a contest (al la the “size race” in luxury yachts between today’s billionaires) and architects were engaged to design large, elaborate structures, sometimes emulating the style of the owner’s chateau.

Birdcaged: An airliner's dimmed cabin.

In the airline industry, “birdcaging” is a term which has come into vogue among passengers; it describes the request from cabin crew to close window blinds or (in aircraft configured with electronically dimmable windows) turn down the settings.  Apparently, if passengers don’t conform, the staff will enforce the onset of darkness.  Theories have circulated on the sites where disgruntled passengers complain about the antics of airlines (they are most active sites) with the most popular suggestion being it’s an attempt to keep the cabin’s environment “subdued”, encouraging “better behaviour”.  The airlines seem not to have commented and “birdcaging” is neither acknowledged industry jargon nor admitted to be any company’s policy.  Flight attendants have however taken to TikTok to subdue the debate, claiming airlines “encourage” the dimming to created “a comfortable environment for those who wish to sleep”.  Those keeping birds in cages will note the calming effect of placing a shroud over the wires, emulating night-time.  At least one flight attendant did concede: “I will say this does affect the calmness of the cabin, but that is not the reason we do this.”  From all this, bird-caged passengers will draw their own conclusions.

Coming maybe within a decade to economy class near you: A depiction of a  “windowless” airliner.

Whether windows will continue to be fitted to passenger aircraft isn’t clear because the manufacturers have been attempting to tempt decision-makers (Flexjet in 2025 signed a contract to buy 300 of Otto’s Phantom 3500 nine-seat executive jets) with windowless winged tubes, outside views (or anything else) emulated with shaped-screens which form part of the cabin lining.  The manufacturers say eliminating the windows will make airframes lighter, stronger and cheaper to produce.  It would also lower running costs and emissions because (1) even with flush-fitting fittings, there is some drag induced by the window frames and (2) the heat-soak from sunlight means more energy has to be expended to maintain cabin temperatures.  Additionally, without windows, passengers will be less exposed to radiation and although not many would fly frequently enough for the effect to be measured, it would benefit cabin crew.  Depending on what’s displayed on the screens, the experience could be surreal or hyper-realistic because HD (high-definition) cameras mounted in the fuselage enable the display (using seamless OLED (organic light-emitting diode) panels of a more expansive vista than is possible through a small window.  For now, although flight attendants would probably prefer passengers to be sedated upon taking their seats, bird-caging us will likely remain plan B.

C3 Chevrolet Corvette T-Top birdcage.

From its debut in 1953, the Chevrolet Corvette’s body has always been made from non-steel composite materials ranging from simple GRP (glass-reinforced plastic and better known as fiberglass) to materials of increasing complexity so rust has never afflicted the external panels but beneath all those curves and angels is much vulnerable ferrous metal including the frame and “birdcage”, the latter an object of veneration or despair, depending on its condition.  A crucial component in the overall strength and structure of some Corvettes, the birdcage was first integrated into the design when the C2 (1962-1967) was released and the same concept was used for the C3 (1968-1982): a reinforced frame surrounding the cabin, the nickname from the overall shape which vaguely recalled a birdcage.  Similar in outline to the “safety cell” for which Mercedes-Benz was in 1952 granted Patent 854157 (rigid passenger cell with front and rear crumple zones), the birdcage consisted of boxed steel channels with pillars running from the base of the windshield (A-pillars), along the rear of the cabin, and down to the frame kick-up behind the seats.  Although not really a complex piece of engineering, the fact that so integral to the car is the structure, for extensive repairs to be performed considerable disassembly is required and the cost of out-sourcing such a task often can exceed the value of the car; economics thus suggest it’s usually advisable to find a car with birdcage in sound condition, repairs often financially viable only if the car is rare (ie with a highly desirable specification or even a celebrity association).  A visual inspection is best left to experts because unless it has just emerged from a comprehensive restoration, the birdcages on all C2 & C3 Corvettes will have at least some light, surface rust but it can take an expert eye to tell the difference between that and rot which demands attention.  Fortunately, the Corvette community is vibrant with publications and on-line guides detailing the features & foibles of the structure.

Troubled birdcage: Rusted C3 windshield frame left-lower outer corner (left) and a replacement corner component (1968-1972) @ US$199.00 from Corvette Central.

On both the C2 & C3, there were two variants of the design, one for the coupe (T-top in the C3) and the one for the roadster (the last such C3 made in 1975) but all shared the susceptibility to rust, especially if used in areas with high salt-exposure (coastal regions or places where the stuff was spread on icy roads) and the part most often affected severely was the “Windshield Frame Lower Outer Corners”, replacement sections available and in two different versions for the C3, reflecting the design changes in the post 1973 cars.  However, while the birdcage's most afflicted components, the windshield frame’s outer corners are not unique and the hinge pillars & lock pillars (including the body mount at the bottom) also are notably rust-prone.

C4 Corvette structure diagram from Mobile Web-Cars.

To call what was used on the C4 Corvette (1984-1996) a “birdcage” was a bit of a gray area because although routinely so described, materially and structurally it was quite different from the classic template set by the C2 & C3.  What was carried over was welded steel structure surrounding the windshield frame, A-pillars, roof rails, B-pillars and rear window frame which created a defined passenger safety cell distinct from the outer composite body panels so it seems reasonable still to use the term but the C4 did not have a “stand-alone” frame onto which the body was mounted, the “birdcage” being an integral part of the frame.  There were a number of design imperatives which dictated the path chosen for the C4 and it was built with a uniframe in which front and rear frame sections were integrated, thereby providing greater rigidity so no longer was the “birdcage” a kind of bolted-on” internal scaffold but an inherent part of the whole.  The C4 was the last Corvette in which something recognizably “birdcagesque” would appear.

Chevrolet’s technical rendering of the C8’s structure.  In engineering, materials science and computing, much has advanced since 1962.

However, the structural integrity the birdcage in 1962 provided needed still to be achieved but the “brute-force” approach of the C2-C3-C4 era was replaced with more advanced techniques and by the time the mid-engined C8 was released in 2019, the platform structurally would have been unrecognizable to anyone familiar with the earlier generations.  The C8 is built around a core element (the so-called “backbone” or “spine”) which can be visualized as a large aluminum tunnel running down the centre of the car and from this the chassis gains its primary torsional stiffness; it was something like bringing the chassis of the 1962 Lotus Elan into the modern age.  The body panels are almost all non-structural and while there is (as is now universal) a reinforced “safety cell” around the cabin, this is protection of occupants in the event of an “impact incident” (better known as a “crash”).

The Birdcage: The Maserati Tipo 60/61 (chassis #2549, clothed & exposed).

Upon released in late 1962, the structure in the C2 Corvette gained the nickname “birdcage” because of the shape but before that, there was the Maserati “Birdcage”, the Tipo 60/61 (1959-1961) so dubbed because it departed from the typical approach of those building space fames in that instead of relatively few, thick tubes and sections, Maserati used many more but they were slender.  Observers were much taken with the apparent delicacy of the construction and although the engineers assured all the intricate latticework of some 200 chromoly steel tubes (welded often in triangulated form in the points of highest stress) was a design delivering both lightness and rigidity to match the more robust-looking creations.  Those admiring the intricacy were struck more by the resemblance to the thin wires of birdcages.  

Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR (W196S, upper) & 300 SL (W198, lower).

One of the reasons the Maserati’s skeleton looked so delicate was that the space-frame had become associated with Teutonic-flavored construction like that used by Mercedes-Benz for its 300 SL & 300 SLR.  Both shared the same method of construction but despite the names and the visual similarity between the two, there were few common components beyond the nuts, bolts & screws.  The 300 SL (W198; 1954-1963) was a road car while the SLR (W196S; 1955) was a lengthened version of the W196R Formula One Grand Prix car with a sexy body and an enlarged (though somewhat detuned) straight-eight engine; in the sport, it would be the last of the straight-8s.

Scale model of Maserati Typo 60/61 Birdcage by CMC.

The final and most remarkable Maserati birdcage was Tipo 63 Birdcage which featured a mid-mounted 3.0 litre V12.  The Tipo 60 & 61 used front-mounted four-cylinder engines in displacements of 2.0 & 2.9 litres and although there were problems which never wholly were solved (although the reliability did over time improved), the platform enjoyed some success because its forgiving nature lent it excellent handling characteristics and in long-distance events, the lack of power was somewhat offset by the modest fuel consumption and relative low tyre wear, time not spent in the pits as valuable as seconds shaved off lap-times.  Unlike some of its competitors, Maserati did not have the financial resources to “keep up with the times” and develop from scratch a mid-engined sports car so the factory took the approach familiar to many an American engineer and hot-rodder: put in a bigger engine.

1961 Maserati Birdcage Typo 63.  Although installing the V12 didn’t realize the hope-for success, the car will always have a place in the annals of “great moments in exhaust systems”.

Actually, the V12 wasn’t that much bigger than the largest of the four cylinder units used but, with a pedigree beginning with a brief (though unsuccessful) career in the Maserati 250F Grand Prix car, it certainly delivered more power.  Because it was a “relatively” simple matter of blending an existing engine and existing platform, the project quickly was accomplished and Maserati had a mid-engined car on the grid before anyone else and one which could top 305 km/h (190 mph) on long straights.  Unfortunately, placing the big lump of a V12 to the rear upset the Birdcage’s fine balance although one did place fourth in the 1961 Le Mans 24 Hours endurance classic (a place where a 190 mph top speed was unusually valuable), a result which proved to be the marque’s high-water mark in the famous event.

Literal

Literal (pronounced lit-er-uhl)

(1) In accordance with, involving, or being the primary or strict meaning of the word or words; not figurative or metaphorical.

(2) Following the words of the original exactly.

(3) True to fact; not exaggerated; actual or factual; being actually such, without exaggeration or inaccuracy.

(4) Of, persons, tending to construe words in the strict sense or in an unimaginative way; matter-of-fact; prosaic.

(5) Of or relating to the letters of the alphabet (obsolete except for historic, technical or academic use); of or pertaining to the nature of letters.

(6) In language translation, as "literal translation", the precise meaning of a word or phrase as opposed to the actual meaning conveyed when used in another language.

(7) A typographical error, especially involving a single letter (in technical use only).

(8) In English (and other common law jurisdictions) law, one of the rules of statutory construction and interpretation (also called the plain meaning rule).

(9) In computer science, a notation for representing a fixed value in source code.

(10) In mathematics, containing or using coefficients and constants represented by letters.

1350-1400: From the Middle English from the Late Latin literalis & litteralis (of or belonging to letters or writing) from the Classical Latin litera & littera (letter, alphabetic sign; literature, books).  The meaning "taking words in their natural meaning" (originally in reference to Scripture and opposed to mystical or allegorical), is from the Old French literal (again borrowed from the Latin literalis & litteralis).  In English, the original late fourteenth meaning was "taking words in their natural meaning" and was used in reference to the understanding of text in Scripture, distinguishing certain passages from those held to be mystical or allegorical.  The meaning "of or pertaining to the letters of the alphabet " emerged in English only in the late fifteenth century although that was the meaning of the root from antiquity, a fork of that sense being " verbally exact, according to the letter of verbal expression, attested from the 1590s and it evolved in conjunction with “the primary sense of a word or passage”.  The phrase “literal-minded” which can be loaded with negative, neutral or positive connotations, is noted from 1791.  Literal is a noun & adjective, literalize is a verb, literalistic is an adjective, literalist, literalization & literalism are nouns and literally is an adverb; the noun plural is literals.

The meaning "concerned with letters and learning, learned, scholarly" was known since the mid-fifteenth century but survives now only literary criticism and the small number of universities still using “letters” in the description of degree programmes.  The Bachelor of Letters (BLitt or LittB) was derived from the Latin Baccalaureus Litterarum or Litterarum Baccalaureus and historically was a second undergraduate degree (as opposed to a Masters or other post-graduate course) which students pursued to study a specialized field or some aspect of something of particular interest.  Once common, these degrees are now rare in the English-speaking world.  It was between 1895-1977 offered by the University of Oxford and was undertaken by many Rhodes Scholars, sometimes as an adjunct course, but has now been replaced by the MLitt (Master of Letters) which has a minimal coursework component.  When the BLitt was still on the books, Oxford would sometimes confer it as a sort of consolation prize, offering DPhil candidates whose submission had proved inadequate the option of taking a BLitt if the prospect of re-writing their thesis held no appeal.  Among the dons supervising the candidates, the verb "to BLitt" emerged, the classic form being: “he was BLitt-ed you know".

Oxford BLitt in light-blue hood, circa 1907, prior to the reallocation of the shades of blue during the 1920s.

Oxford's colorful academic gowns are a footnote in the history of fashion although influences either way are difficult to detect.  The regulations of 1895 required the new BLitt and the BSc (Bachelor of Science) were to wear the same dress as the existing B.C.L (Bachelor of Civil Law) and the BM (Bachelor of Medicine) and if there was a difference between the blues used for the BCL and the BM in 1895, the implicit "respectively" (actually then its Latin equivalent) would seem to suggest the BLitt was to use the same color hood as the BCL and the BSc to use the shade of the BM and that's certainly how it appears on many contemporary depictions.  Although in the surviving record the hues of blue would in the following decades vary somewhat (and the colors were formerly re-allocated during the 1920s, the BLitt moving to a more vivid rendition of light-blue), the BLitt, BSc and BCL hoods tended always to be brighter and the BM darker.  Whether it was artistic license or an aesthetic nudge, one painter in 1927 mixed something much lighter for the BLitt, a shade more neutral and hinting at a French grey but no other artist seems to have followed.  By 1957, the BLitt and BSc gowns had returned to the colors of the 1895 decree while the BCL and BM were now in mid-blue and that remained unchanged until 1977 when the BLitt and BSc were superseded by masters’ degrees, the new MSc and MLitt given a blue hood lined with the grey of the DLitt & DSc.

Oxford BM in mid-blue hood, circa 1905.

Quite how much the work of the artist can be regarding as an accurate record of a color as it appeared is of course dubious, influenced as it is the painter’s eye, ambient light and the angle at which it was observed.  Even the descriptions used by the artists in their notes suggest there was either some variation over the years (and that would not be unexpected given the differences in the dying processes between manufacturers) or the terms for colors meant different things to different painters: The Oxford BMus hood was noted as blue (1882 & 1934), mauve (1920), lilac (1923, 1924, 1927, 1935 & 1957), dark lilac (1948) and dark purple (1926).  With improvements in photographic reproduction and the greater standardization in the industrial processes used in dying, the post-war photographic record is more reliable and lilac seems a good description for the BM and “light blue” for the BLitt.

In modern (social media) use, "literal" often is used as term of emphasis meaning something like "an exemplar of".  Although the purists will never approve, in that context, it may come to be regarded as a genuine additional meaning, although unlike a word like decimate, it wont be a meaning shift replacing the original.   

In March 2023, after the announcement of her daughter's pregnancy, Lindsay Lohan's mother (Dina Lohan (b 1962)) was quoted as saying: “I’m literally over the moon. I’m so happy, I can’t stop smiling”.  The proneness to exaggeration seems to be a family trait because Lindsay Lohan did once admit some of her youthful antics made her mother “hit the roof” which, hopefully, she didn't mean to be taken literally (although, who knows?).  The now seemingly endemic misuse of literal is not new, Henry Watson Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) noting errors in general use from as early as the 1820s and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) has cited literary examples from the seventeenth century.  Interestingly, it appears objections emerged at scale only in the early twentieth century which does suggest an additional meaning may have existed or at least been evolving before the grammar Nazis imposed their censorious ways.  So endemic in English has the (mis)use become and genuine confusion so rare the pedants really should give up their carping; after all, some illustrious names have sinned:

Scrooge McDuck, literally "rolling in wealth" in his famous money bin. 

“…literally rolling in wealth…”: (Mark Twain (1835-1910), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876)).  In fairness to Twain, it can be done.  While Donald Trump (as far as is known) does it only figuratively, Walt Disney (1901–1966) had Scrooge McDuck (created 1947) literally roll-around in the huge volumes of cash he stashed in his "money bin" (a reputed 3 cubic acres (257,440 m³; 772.321 megalitres)) but that wouldn't have been what Twain had in mind.

“The land literally flowed with milk and honey.”: (Louisa May Alcott (1832–1888), Little Women (1868-1869)).  That one may be at least a gray area because milk and honey do literally "flow" (though their varies viscosities mean the flow-rates do differ) and "the land" can be used in the sense of the country and its people rather than "the soil".   

“…Gatsby literally glowed” [after reuniting with Daisy at his house]: (F Scott Fitzgerald (1896–1940), The Great Gatsby (1925)).  Women (when pregnant or as new mothers) often are said "to be glowing" in the sense of their happiness being such it seems "to radiate" from them and this may be what Fitzgerald wished to suggest but even then it was untypical to apply the phrase to men.  However, at least debatably, some time ago, popular use reached the threshold where to describe a new mother as “glowing” could be regarded as literal because the word has become so vested with that sense.  Indeed, in January 2026, when announcing her long-standing feud with Lindsay Lohan had moved from a state of détente to a kind of entente cordiale, Paris Hilton (b 1981) told her audience: “We plan on getting the kids together.  I'm so happy for her.  She is glowing. We love being moms.”  So, that literalism of “glowing” has her imprimatur and, as is well-known, where Paris Hilton goes, the English language follows.  

The literal rule in statutory interpretation in the UK & Commonwealth

Statute law is that set in place by a body vested with appropriate authority (typically a legislature) and maintained in written form.  In providing rulings involving these laws, courts in the common-law world (although in the US the evolution has been a little different) have developed a number of principles of statutory interpretation, the most fundamental of which is “the literal rule” (sometimes called the “plain meaning rule”).  It’s the basis of all court decisions involving statues, the judge looking just to the words written down, relying on their literal meaning without any attempt to impute or interpret meaning.  The process should ensure laws are made exclusively by legislators alone; those elected for the purpose, the basis of the constitutional theory being that it’s this which grants laws their legitimacy and thus the consent of those upon they’re imposed.  However, an application of the literal rule can result in consequences which are nonsensical, immoral or unjust but the theory is that will induce the legislature to correct whatever error in drafting was the cause; it not being the task of the court to alter a duly passed law; the judiciary must interpret and not attempt to remedy the law.

A judge in 1980 observed the British constitution “…is firmly based upon the separation of powers; parliament makes the laws, the judiciary interpret them.  When Parliament legislates to remedy what the majority of its members at the time perceive to be a defect… the role of the judiciary is confined to ascertaining from the words that parliament has approved as expressing its intention what that intention was, and to giving effect to it. Where the meaning of the statutory words is plain and unambiguous it is not for the judges to invent fancied ambiguities as an excuse for failing to give effect to its plain meaning because they themselves consider that the consequences of doing so would be inexpedient, or even unjust or immoral.”  So a judge should not depart from the literal meaning of words even if the outcome is unjust.  If they do, the will of parliament is contradicted.

However, some things were so absurd even the most black-letter-law judges (of which there were not a few) could see the problem.  What emerged was “the golden rule”, the operation of which a judge in 1857 explained by saying the “…grammatical and ordinary sense of the words is to be adhered to unless that would lead to some absurdity or some repugnance or inconsistency with the rest of the instrument in which case the grammatical and ordinary sense of the words may be modified so as to avoid the absurdity and inconsistency, but no farther.”  The golden rule thus operates to avoid an absurdity which an application of the literal rule might produce.

The golden rule was though deliberately limited in scope, able to be used only in examples of absurdity so extreme it would be a greater absurdity not to rectify.  Thus “the mischief rule” which with judges exercised rather more discretion within four principles, first mentioned in 1584 at a time when much new legislation was beginning to emerge to supersede the old common law which had evolved over centuries of customary practice.  Given the novelty of codified national law replacing what previously been administered with differences between regions, the need for some debugging was not unexpected, hence the four principles of the mischief rule: (1) What was the common law before this law?, (2) What was the mischief and defect for which the common law did not provide and thus necessitate this law?, (3) What remedy for the mischief and defect is in this law”, & (4) The role of the judge is to make such construction as shall suppress the mischief and advance the remedy.  The rule was intended to determine what mischief a statute was intended to correct and interpret the statute justly to avoid any mischief.

The mischief rule closes loopholes in the law while allowing them to evolve in what may be a changing environment but does permit an element of the retrospective and depends on the opinion and prejudices of the judge: an obvious infringement on the separation of powers protected by the strict application of literal rule.  So it is a trade-off, the literal rule the basic tool of statutory interpretation which should be deviated from only in those exceptional cases where its application would create an absurdity or something manifestly unjust.  This the golden rule allows while the mischief rule extends judicial discretion, dangerously some have said, permitting the refinement of law at the cost of increasing the role of the judges, a group where views and prejudices do vary.  From all this has evolved the debate about judicial activism.

Colonel Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; VPOTUS 1901, POTUS 1901-1909) with the 1^st US Volunteer Cavalry and troopers of the 10th Cavalry after the capture of Kettle Hill during the Battle of San Juan Hill, July 1898.

Fought between April-August 1898, the Spanish–American War followed the warship USS Maine (an “armoured cruiser” best thought of as one of the smaller “pre-Dreadnought” battleships) in February blowing up and sinking while anchored in Cuba’s Havana Harbor; 261 of the ship’s complement of 355 were killed.  Based on the early reports and available evidence, the US Navy’s explosives experts suggested the blast appeared to have been caused by a spontaneous coal bunker fire but Roosevelt, then serving as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, pushed back, labelling that conclusion “premature” and insisted sabotage was possible, telling colleagues: “the Maine was sunk by an act of dirty treachery on the part of the Spaniards.”  That might have sounded strange to those who have read the press reports of courteous Spaniards having welcomed her arrival in Havana with the presentation to the captain of a case of Jerez sherry and William McKinley (1843–1901; US president 1897-1901) the next evening, hosting his first diplomatic dinner in the White House, having the Spanish minister sit next to him, despite almost a dozen other envoys enjoying precedence.  Roosevelt however had his war-paint on and he had the enthusiastic support of William Randolph Hearst’s (1863–1951) New York newspaper the Journal, something of the FoxNews of its day and an early example of “yellow journalism”.

Unconvinced after having learned the Maine had been “a floating bomb, its forecastle packed with gunpowder and its magazines laced with shortable wires”, McKinley ordered an investigation, saying: “I don’t propose to be swept off my feet by the catastrophe.  I have been through one war [the US Civil War 1861-1865] and I have seen the dead piled up, and I do not want to see another.”   He called for an investigation, which dragged on for months.  While McKinley’s enquiry percolated, Hearst had the Journal print fanciful diagrams showing how the Spanish “Infernal Machine” had hit the hull while Roosevelt, taking advantage of the temporary absence of the Secretary of the Navy, ordered the Pacific squadron to sea, put the European and South Atlantic stations on alert, demanded of Congress the immediate authorization of the unlimited recruitment of seamen and ordered large quantities of guns and ammunition.  By the time McKinley's investigation reported the cause of the sinking as an “external explosion”, Roosevelt and Hearst had honed public opinion and, the die cast, a reluctant McKinley took his country to war.

A stylized image of the explosion which sank the USS Maine, published in 1898 by Kurz and Allison (a Chicago-based publisher of chromolithographs), Nautical History Gallery and Museum.

In a move that would wholly be unfamiliar to bloodthirsty, non-combatant modern politicians who prefer to sit at a safe distance to watch other people’s children fight their wars, Roosevelt’s view was: “I have done all I could to bring on the war, because it is a just war, and the sooner we meet it the better.  Now that it has come, I have no business to ask others to do the fighting and stay home myself.”  He resigned from the administration and headed for Cuba with his “Rough Riders” (a collection of “cowboys, idealists. Veteran soldiers, Native Americans and adventurers”), assembled as the 1^st US Volunteer Cavalry, a formation John Hay (1838-1905; US Secretary of State 1898-1905) thought “ideally suited” to what be labelled a “splendid little war.”  Although brief, the conflict was of great significance because it was at this point the US became an imperial power, its defeat of Spain resulting in the acquisition of Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines, while Cuba would until 1902 remain a US protectorate.  By the late twentieth century a consensus had emerged that the explosion was most likely caused by an "internal event" and not a Spanish mine but much had since happened and "what's done is done and can't be undone".

The Rough Riders were one of several units formed ad hoc which were dissolved with the end of the war and while the notion of what were quasi-private militias operating in concert with regular forces may seem curious, before World War I (1914-1918) changed the public perception of war, for some men, the lure of combat still had a romantic aura.  While the contribution of the Rough Riders strategically was slight, it was real and it was the action of 1 July which became the war’s most famous engagement.  On that day, in a combined assault with regular army troops, Roosevelt on horseback led the Rough Riders in charges up Kettle Hill and San Juan Hill; there over a thousand casualties with some 200 killed.  He returned to the US as a national hero and in November 1898 was elected governor of New York before being "persuaded" to run as McKinley’s running mate on the Republican ticket for the 1900 presidential election.  Roosevelt would have been familiar with the nineteenth century there was a joke about two brothers: “One ran off to sea and the other became vice-president; neither were ever heard of again” and may have anticipated the view of John Nance Garner III (1868–1967, VPOTUS 1933-1941 so thus a reasonable judge of these things), that being VPOTUS was “...not worth a bucket of warm piss” (which is polite company usually is sanitized as “...bucket of warm spit”).  Accordingly, he was diffident about seeking the nomination which in his day was not thought a stepping stone to higher things.  That’s changed and a number of VPOTUSs have become POTUS; on a few occasions that has worked well but of late the record has not been encouraging, the presidencies of Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; VPOTUS 1961-1963, POTUS 1963-1968), Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961, POTUS 1969-1974), George H. W. Bush (George XLI, 1924-2018; VPOTUS 1981-1989, POTUS 1989-1993) and Joe Biden (b 1942; VPOTUS 2008-2017, POTUS 2021-2025) 1963-1968, all ending badly, in despair, disgrace, defeat and decrepitude respectively.  Roosevelt in 1900 told friends he’d rather “…be anything else, say, a professor of history” but finally decided he could make it a solid platform for a run for the presidency in 1904.

His path to the nomination for VPOTUS was made somewhat smoother by the party bosses in New York wanting him out because although popular with the voters, for the machine men used to running things, he was a loose cannon and one they’d sooner have sitting in an inconsequential office in Washington DC than making trouble in New York where he exercised real power.  Mark Hanna (1837-1904), the great Republican boss, called him “that damned cowboy” (which, in many ways, could be read literally) and Mark Twain disapproved, saying he was “clearly insane… and insanest upon war and its supreme glories.”  Hanna was of course aware of the danger for a VPOTUS is first in the line of succession and he’d tried to stop the nomination, imploring the delegates to “see reason”, telling them: “Don’t any of you realize that there’s only one life between that madman and the presidency?”  It was to no avail and in 1900 the McKinley/Roosevelt ticket prevailed, prompting Hanna to tell McKinley: “Your sacred duty for the next four years is to stay alive” and the president did his best but, through no fault of his own, was within months cut down by the gunfire of an anarchist and “that damned cowboy” was sworn in as Chief Magistrate of the United States.  In what must now seem an extraordinary example of judicial alacrity, within six weeks of McKinley’s death, the anarchist assassin had been tried, convicted and executed in New York’s Auburn Prison, dispatched by the New York State Electrician.

A full-page advertisement taken out by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in the New York Daily News (1 May 1989).  When he said "BRING BACK THE DEATH PENALTY", he meant it literally.

“New York State Electrician” really was the title of the state’s chief executioner and the title was derived from the use of the electric chair.  The first appointment was made in 1890 and despite New York staging its last execution in 1963, the position was not disestablished until the Nixon-era decision by the USSC (US Supreme Court) in Furman v. Georgia, 408 U.S. 238 (1972), which had the effect of imposing a national moratorium on the use of the death penalty until 1976 when it was held certain states successfully had re-written their statutes in conformity with the US constitution.  Intriguingly, between 1890-1963 the fee received by the State Electrician was never changed from the original US$150 (with a bonus US$50 paid for additional executions performed on the same day).  That was despite substantial inflation (and the related decrease in the purchasing power of the US$): By 1963, the equivalent value of 1890’s US$150 was calculated at US$504.40 and by 2026 the number was US$5,342.67.  Mr Trump ran his advertisement in four New York City newspapers at a total cost of US$85,000 so, had the New York State Electrician still be plying his specialized trade, what was paid to the papers would have covered some 567 executions but if the fee had been adjusted in line with inflation (the value of 1990’s US$150 by 1989 having risen to US$2,043.96), it would have paid for fewer than 42 to “get the chair”.

Movements in the value of the US$ (inflation & purchasing power), 1890-2026.

Roosevelt’s military exploits in what came to be called the Battle of San Juan Heights made him a national celebrity, a role he was well-equipped to exploit and when late in 1898 he's returned to the US, his mind turned to politics and his goal was the White House; for that he needed a stepping stone.  New York’s Republican Party establishment preferred to endorse candidates who were (1) sane and (2) dependent on the machine and thus compliant so were thus not enamoured with the leader of the Rough Riders but above all they needed someone likely to win an election, a quality Roosevelt appeared to possess, unlike the alternatives.  So, reluctantly, the New York Republicans adopted them as their candidate in the 1898 gubernatorial election and Roosevelt stormed into the campaign with the same enthusiasm he'd a few months earlier displayed on horseback while leading charges against the Spanish.  With a sense for publicity which never deserted him, he had Sergeant Buck Taylor (who’d charged with him in Cuba) speak at an election rally where he told the assembled crowd: “…and when it came to the great day he led us up San Juan Hill like sheep to the slaughter and so he will lead you.”  Roosevelt won the election, winning the popular vote 49.02% to 47.70% so clearly not too many New Yorkers took Sergeant Taylor’s words literally.