Spider

Spider (pronounced spahy-der)

(1) Any predatory silk-producing arachnid of the order Araneae, having four pairs of legs and a rounded un-segmented body consisting of abdomen and cephalothorax, most of which spin webs that serve as nests and as traps for prey.

(2) In non technical use, any of various other arachnids resembling or suggesting these.

(3) A cast-iron frying pan with three legs or feet once common in open-hearth cookery (now rare and applied more loosely; still used by chefs).

(4) A trivet or tripod, as for supporting a pot or pan on a hearth.

(5) In digital technology. digitally to survey websites, following and cataloging their links in order to index web pages for a search engine.

(6) In engineering, a skeleton or frame with radiating arms or members, often connected by crosspieces, such as a casting forming the hub and spokes to which the rim of a fly wheel or large gear is bolted; the body of a piston head; a frame for strengthening a core or mould for a casting.

(7) In agriculture, an instrument used with a cultivator to pulverize soil.

(8) Any implement, tool or other device which is some (even if vague) was resembles or is suggestive of a spider (sometimes as spider-like or spideresque).

(9) In nautical use, a metal frame fitted at the base of a mast to which halyards are tied when not in use.

(10) A drink made by mixing ice-cream and a soda (a fizzy drink such as lemonade) (mostly Australia & New Zealand).

(11) An alcoholic drink made with brandy and lemonade or ginger beer (mostly Australia & New Zealand and probably extinct although it still appears in some anthologies of cocktails).

(12) In slang, a person spindly in appearance (dated); also a popular nickname for those with the surname Webb.

(13) In slang, a man who persistently approaches or accosts a woman in a public social setting, particularly in a bar (also as bar spider).

(14) In snooker & billiards, a stick with a convex arch-shaped notched head used to support the cue when the cue ball is out of reach at normal extension; a bridge.

(15) In bicycle design, the part of a crank to which the chain-rings are attached.

(16) In drug slang, one of the many terms for heroin (an allusion to the web-like patterns on the arms of addicts into which the needle is poked).

(17) In music, part of a resonator instrument that transmits string vibrations from the bridge to a resonator cone at multiple points.

(18) In fly fishing, a soft-hackle fly (mostly southern England).

(19) In the sport of darts, the network of wires separating the areas of a dartboard.

(20) In mathematics, a type of graph or tree.

(21) In passenger transport, a early type of light phaeton (obsolete) and latterly a descriptor for a roadster (also as spyder).

(22) In photography and film-making, a support for a camera tripod, preventing it from sliding.

1380s: From the Middle English spydyr, spydyr & spither (the forms from mid-century were spiþre, spiþur & spiþer), from the Old English spīþra & spīthra (spider), from the Proto-West Germanic spinþrijō, from the Proto-Germanic spinnaną & spin-thon (“to spin”).  The Old English forms were akin to spinnan (to spin) and cognate with the Danish spinder (literally “spinner”) and the German Spinne and (mostly) displaced attercop (spider, unpleasant person) which was relegated to a dialectal term.  The root of the European form was the primitive Indo-European spen & pen (to draw, stretch, spin) + the formative or agential -thro.  The connection with the root is more transparent in other Germanic cognates such as the Middle Low German, Middle Dutch, Middle High German & German spinne and the Dutch spin (spider).  The loss of -n- before spirants is familiar in Old English (such as goose or tooth).  Spider is a noun, spidery and spideresque are adjectives, spidering is a verb and spidered is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is spiders.

Lindsay Lohan with Spiderman and spideresque offspring, Harper’s Bazaar photo shoot, Los Angeles, 2007.

Despite the ancient lineage, in the Old & Middle English there were more common words used when speaking of arachnids including lobbe (or loppe as Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) would have it), atorcoppe (the Middle English attercop translates literally as “poison-head”), and (from the Latin aranea), renge.  Middle English also had araine (spider) which was picked up, via the Old French from the Latin word with the same spelling and, more poetically, in the Old English there was gangewifre (a weaver as he goes).  In literature, the spider was often a figure of cunning, skill, and industry as well as venomous predation.  In the seventeenth century, the spider figuratively represented venomousness and thread-spinning but also sensitivity to vibrations and the habit of solitary lurking, waiting for prey to fall into the web; quintessentially, the spider was an independent character.  The two-pack game of solitaire (patience) called spider dates from 1890 (still available in software), the choice of name thought owed to the resemblance of the layout of the decks in the original form of the game.  In zoology, the spider crab was first identified in 1710 (an applied to various species) while the spider monkey, so called for its long limbs, dates from is from 1764.  The noun spider-web in the 1640s replaced the more cumbersome spider's web from a century-odd earlier and the adjective spidery (long and thin) was first noted in 1823.

The Exorcist’s “spider walk” scene.

Based on the William Peter Blatty (1928-2017) novel The Exorcist (1971), the film version (1973) was directed by William Friedkin (1935-2023) and that it did not win the Best Picture Academy Award is a mystery explained only by the prejudices held at the time by those members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences who cast ballots for The Sting (1973) a well-made but formulaic piece and hardly the a landmark like The Exorcist.  The “spider walk” scene was long the subject of speculation.  Not included in the original theatrical release, the director for years claimed it had never been shot and it was only when copies of the takes were found in the archives he admitted it had been done but that it couldn’t be used because the technology didn’t at the time exist to edit out the wires attached to a rail above which made the performance possible.  Subsequently, it was revealed the scene had been shot without use of the harness designed for the purpose because it was performed by an experienced stunt double with gymnastic training.  Apparently the director didn’t include it because he thought it appeared too early and disrupted the sequence which is interesting because structurally, The Exorcist is far from perfect.  The spider walk scene was included in the “director’s cut” editions released the next century.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminun center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.

Spider Phaeton, circa 1875, US.

There are cars called spider and spyder although, unlike many other natural or engineered creations which in some way resemble arachnids, these cars are almost always small roadsters which in appearance don’t look anything like their eight-legged namesakes.  The origin of the name lies in the horse & buggy era when a spider phaeton was a lightweight horse-drawn carriage intended for short-distance journeys and the design was intended to impress so there was often little protection from the elements beyond perhaps something to shade ladies from the sun.  Unlike some true “convertible” or “cabriolet” carriages, there were no side windows and the spider name was gained from the “spider”, a small single seat or bench for the use of a groom or footman, the name based on the spindly supports which called to mind an arachnid’s legs.  Quite where this style of coachwork was first seen isn’t known but they were certainly in use on both sides of the Atlantic in the 1860s and it’s not impossible the invention was both simultaneous and independent although there are sources which insist it was first seen in the ante-bellum US.  Historians of early transportation note also the similarity of the small seat with the "jump seat" and the later "rumble" or dicky (also as dickie or dickey) seats.

1931 Alfa Romeo 8C 2300 Spider Monza.

As engines (steam, electric and predominately internal combustion) made possible horseless carriages, in the earliest days the body-styles were carried over as were the designations which is why berlinas, cabriolets and phaetons appeared in the catalogues of the early automotive coach-builders.  However, the spider nomenclature seems to have for decades been forgotten, because although the ancillary seats still existed, the terms “dicky”, “rumble” and “jump” came to be preferred, each with its own etymological tale.  The revival of the name had to await the interwar years, Alfa Romeo in 1931 introducing the 8C, powered by 2.3, 2.6 & 2.9 litre stright-8s, the line continuing until 1939.  Many were touring cars but the Spider version was a sports car built for road and track, and 8C 2300 Spiders won the 1931 & 1932 Targa Florio road-race in Sicily and it was victory in the 1931 Italian Grand Prix which the factory honored with the "Monza", the GP car a shortened, lightweight version of the Spider.

1961 Ferrari 250 GT SWB California Spyder, one of the few times the factory preferred Spyder to Spider.  To date, Ferrari's only Spyders have bee the 250 GT California (1957–1963), the 365 California (1966) and the 365 GTS/4 (Daytona, 1971–1973).  Other than those, its been Spiders or Cabriolets all the way.

Encouraged by the image Alfa-Romeo gained from the illustrious 8C Spiders, a few other cars emerged from Europe in the 1930s but it was in the post-war years the name became really fashionable, the economic boom and the availability of chassis suitable to carry the imagination of carrozzerias meant there was a concurrence of supply and demand for stylish roadsters, many of which carried the magic of the spider name.  Seemingly more glamorous still must have been “Spyder” because it was in the 1950s that roadsters called Spyder began to appear.  Quite why the “y” sometimes was preferred to the “i” has over the years attracted comment and speculation but the reason for the adoption remain obscure.  The idea it was to avoid legal action from Alfa-Romeo was soon discounted because, spider being a historic generic from coach-building (like sedan, limousine, cabriolet etc), it couldn’t be trade-marked or otherwise protected and Alfa-Romeo seems anyway never to have tried.  There was however a quasi-legal status granted to the spelling “spider” because in 1924, the (the apparently now forgotten) Milan-based National Federation of Body makers declared that was how it should be written, the speculation being that Il Duce (Benito Mussolini, 1883-1945; Duce (Leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) wanted to make everything as Italian as possible and, there being no "y" in the alphabet, spider it was.  Of whether such matters much occupied the fascist mind, there seems no documentation and it does seem dubious; X, Y, W, J not appearing in the Italian alphabet either although many words in the languages include them.

1964 Chevrolet Corvair Monza Spyder Coupe.  Although it looks frumpy compared with the most accomplished re-styling of 1965, the original Corvair (1990-1965) was a modernist take on the US design language of the late 1950s and was restrained compared with some of what came off the drawing boards in the era.

In 1962 Chevrolet chose “Spyder” as the name for the high-performance version of the rear-engined Corvair, introduced in 1960 as a compact car with an emphasis on economy of operation with no pretentions of sportiness (although drivers would soon discover the sometimes quirky handling characteristics could make the things feel rather like certain racing cars).  Adopting the name for the turbocharged Spyder made sense because GM (General Motors) had from the state positioned the Corvair as a more “European” type of car although the irony was it made its debut at a time when across the Atlantic many manufacturers were for their next generation of mass-market machines pondering a switch from RE-RWD (rear engine-rear wheel drive) to FE-FWD (front engine, front wheel drive).  In the way Detroit was rather loose in the handling of nomenclature, the “Spider” package was available for the Monza versions both as a coupe and convertible; notably, it made the Corvair only the second passenger vehicle in series production to have been fitted with a turbo-charger, Oldsmobile F-85 Turbo Jetfire having been released a few months earlier.  The Oldsmobile venture was brief because the early implementation of the technology demanded rather more of drivers than US buyers had become accustomed to giving and anyway, despite the specification (turbocharged, all aluminium, 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8) sounding tempting, on the road it was less than exciting and GM soon abandoned the engine (whether with forced aspiration or not).  The corporation came to regret that decision because the light, compact V8 would have proved a useful augmentation to their ranges in the troubled decades to follow.  As it was, in 1965 it sold the rights and tooling to Rover and the V8 would until 2006 provide stellar service to the UK industry.  Chevrolet in 1965 retired the “Spyder” name from the Corvair and replaced it with “Corsa”.

1965 Chevrolet Corvair Corsa Coupe (left) and 1967 Chevrolet Corvair 500 Sport Sedan (right).  The almost Italianesque lines of the second generation Corvair (1965-1967) were as fine as anything from Detroit in the 1960s but the damage to the car's reputation was done.  The four-door version was notable for being the only compact four-door hardtop the industry produced and uniquely, there was no companion model with a B-pillar. 

As an evocative name for a car, the Latin corsa (from the Ancient Greek κόρση (kórsē) (variously (1) in building, the uprights on the gate of a temple, (2) in anatomy the sides of the forehead (ie the temples) or (3) the hair on the temples)) wasn't encouraging as a noun because it meant “the outer strip in the molding about a door (a girder)”.  However, the Latin adjective corsa could (in the feminine) be used to mean “a Corsican” or “of or relating to Corsica” and that obviously was very European.  To emphasise that, “Corsa” exists in a number of Romance languages including Asturian, Catalan, French, Galician, Italian, Latin, Portuguese & Spanish.  There is nothing to suggest there was in the mid-1960s and market resistance to the name “Spyder”, the switch to “Corsa” made just to create the aura of “newness” at the time so important.  In 1965 that was a quality especially important for the second generation Corvair, the reputation of which (rightly) had suffered after the publication of Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) which was a devastating critique on the safety standards of US-made automobiles, the dubiously implemented swing-axles on the very early Corvairs the emblematic case study.  Ironically, as well as being one of the loveliest designs of the era, the revised Corvair greatly was improved but by them the damage was terminal and the project doomed, the model lingering until 1969 only because GM didn’t wish it thought Nader had claimed a scalp.

Advertising was different in the 1970s.

MWC may not have wanted customers to associate its Spyder with the then recently cancelled Corvair but may have been encouraged by FoMoCo (Ford Motor Company) which as early as 1958 had borrowed the French spelling Galaxie for the top-trim option for its then full-sized Fairlane, the company in 1966 adding the 7 Litre option to the range.  Even then liters were not unknown in US English (especially among scientists and engineers) but they tended not to use the French spelling (although Pontiac used it to emphasize the distinctly "European" flavor of its short-lived (1966-1969) OHC (overhead camshaft) straight-six).  FoMoCo's marketing staff wouldn’t have deluded themselves by imagining use of “litre” would suggest to buyers there was anything remotely “French” about the Galaxie's biggest engine option (by 1966, French cars certainly weren’t built with 7 litre V8 engines) but it avoided a linguistic clash with Galaxie and anyway such things were then anyway part of the zeitgeist of commerce.  Then as now, New York City was no more representative of life in the US than were things south of the Mason-Dixon Line but cars were named for the whole country and just as wild creatures (cougar, mustang, barracuda etc) suited some segments, “Galaxie” in 1958 had been chosen because, post-Sputnik, it was the dawn of the “space age” with rockets and satellites suddenly part of the cultural milieu.  So it was a deliberate exercise in branding and not a linguistic accident, just as litre appealed because more than any other European nation, France was thought redolent with connotations of modernity and sophistication, making "Galaxie 7 Litre" a happy combination.

1971 Ford LTD Convertible with MWC's Spyder wheels.  The proliferation of smaller ranges (the pony cars and intermediates) meant the demise of the "sporty" versions of the full-size lines; among the Fords, the last big block V8 / 4-speed manual transmission combo was built in 1969 and the last LTD convertible would appear in 1972. 

A 1971 LTD is an improbable resting place for a set of MWC Spyders which presumably enjoyed an earlier life on another vehicle or perhaps several, certainly they were never a FoMoCo factory option.  The LTD began in 1965 as just another option for the Galaxie; it was a "luxury package" (ie letting the Galaxie fulfil the role for which in 1939 Mercury had been created).  Although in the 1930s & 1940s there had been various "Deluxe" & "Super Deluxe" Fords, it was when the Edsel venture played out over two and a bit seasons (1958-1960) that the real intra-corporate cannibalization began with Ford in the 1960s increasingly trespassing on what in marketing theory should have been Mercury's fenced-off turf.  Even when Mercury stumbled on its one bona fide hit (the 1967 Cougar), it wasn't long before there was a Ford emulating it and, to add insult to injury, at a lower cost.  Mercury did well to last until 2011 when FoMoCo grasped the excuse of the GFC (global financial crisis, 2008-2012) to shutter the brand.

The alpha-numeric juxtaposition also simplified the administration of the badgework because in 1966 & 1967, FoMoCo actually offered two very different versions of their 7 litre FE V8, the 427 (a famously powerful & robust beast with a stellar reputation on the circuits which was expensive, noisy, prone to being cantankerous and an oil burner) or the 428 (mild-mannered, smooth, quiet, cheap to build and offering prodigious low-speed torque), the choice at the dealership just a tick on the box for those with the cash of credit rating to afford the 427.  The market spoke, the sales breakdown between the 427/428 in 1966/1967 being 11035/38 and 1056/12.  So the 427 was retired from the full-sized line for 1968, a run 350-odd of a curious version with hydraulic valve lifters (intended originally for the Mustang) used in the Mercury Cougar, coupled exclusively to an automatic gearbox; for the 1968 Cougars, Ford decided there were just 427s & 428s and didn't bother with litres or liters.  Strangely, by then, the corporation would have had an excuse to stick with the French because in 1968 FoMoCo had three different 7 litre V8s in the showrooms, the 427 & 428 from the FE family and the 429 from the 385 series.  Fortunately, another 7 litre (the 430 from the MEL family) had been retired in 1966 after being enlarged to 462 cubic inches (7.5 litres).            

1955 Lancia Aurelia B24S Spider.

In Italy, the naming trend really took off in 1954 when Lancia introduced the B24 Aurelia Spider and soon Ferrari and other from Italy would follow although spyders would appear too, (including some from Ferrari & Lancia), and General Motors (GM), noted scavengers of European nomenclature (GTO, Grand Prix etc) shamelessly tacked Spyder onto the doomed Corvair, even for versions with a fixed roof.  North of the Brenner Pass, spyder has found favour, used by Porsche, Audi and BMW while in the Far-East, companies like Toyota and Mitsubishi, arch-imitators in style and perfectionists in execution have rolled out their own spyders.  Alfa-Romeo and Fiat however have stuck to spider, Lancia and Ferrari too seeming to have forsaken their youthful indiscretions and only using the original.

1967 Alfa Romeo 1600 Spider Duetto.

Although in continuous production between 1966-1993, it was only during the first three years the bodywork featured the memorable Osso di Seppia (Round-tail, literally "cuttle fish") coachwork.  After 1970, the Spider gained a Kamm-tail which increased luggage capacity and apparently also conferred some aerodynamic advantage but purists have always coveted the cigar-shaped original, despite it violating a few rules in the design handbook.  The Duetto name was the winning entry in a competition Alfa Romeo in 1965 conducted and in those days that meant running advertisements in newspapers (which people actually paid for and read) to which readers responded by cutting out and filling in the coupon, writing in their suggestion, putting it in an envelope on which they wrote the address, buying and affixing a stamp and putting envelope in mailbox.  Then, entering a competition took effort and commitment.  The company's directors liked "Duetto" because it summed up the romantic essence of a machine definitely built for a couple but unfortunately, for some legal reason relating to an existing trademark, it couldn't officially be used but for decades, among the cognoscenti,  the little roadsters have always been called Duettos.  To keep the tiresome lawyers at bay, when released at the Geneva Motor Show in March 1966, the car was released as the Spider 1600.

1980 (left) and 1978 (right) Lancia Beta Zagato Spiders.

Whatever its dynamic qualities, the Lancia Beta (1972–1984) tends to be remembered only for its extraordinary predilection for rusting, vying with the early Alfa Romeo Alfasuds (1971-1989) for the title of “most susceptible”.  The coupé (1973-1984) and shooting brake (1975-1984 and named HPE (High-performance Estate)) appear less affected by body-rot but the tainted reputation has meant these models have never attained the desirability of earlier Lancias like the exquisite Fulvia (1963-1976).  Tellingly, although convertibles tend in the collector market to attract a premium, not even the Beta Zagato Spider enjoys much of a following despite almost 10,000 having been produced in an era when new convertibles were becoming a rarity.  The Zagato Spider was more of a targa than a true convertible but was a clever design with both a removable targa-top atop the front seats and a folding rear-section, al la the early Porsche “soft window” Targas of the late 1960s.  The coach-building and design house Zagato has operated in Italy since 1919 and although there have been some nice creations, the operation has often been associated with the angular and the quirky, some designs simply weird.  Despite that, more than a century on, Zagato remains while others responsible for many sensuous shapes have come and gone. 

Robert the Bruce, colored engraving by an unknown artist (1797).

Robert I (Robert the Bruce, 1274–1329; King of Scots 1306-1329) was crowned King of Scots in 1306 and led Scotland to victory in the First War of Scottish Independence against the English.  Earlier though, he’d had his defeats and his spirits were said to be at a low ebb when after one disastrous battle, he was forced to take refuge in a cave.  Sitting in the cold, dark space, he noticed a small spider attempting to weave a web and time and time again, the little creature failed.  However, each time the spider fell, it climbed back up to try again until finally, the silk took hold and the web was spun.  From this, Robert was inspired to return to the fight and was victorious in the Battle of Bannockburn (1314), a triumph which turned the tide of the war and ultimately, in 1328. the independence of Scotland was won.

Bruce and the spider, by Bernard Barton (1784-1849)

FOR Scotland's and for freedom's right
The Bruce his part has played;--
In five successive fields of fight
Been conquered and dismayed:
Once more against the English host
His band he led, and once more lost
The meed for which he fought;
And now from battle, faint and worn,
The homeless fugitive, forlorn,
A hut's lone shelter sought.
 
And cheerless was that resting-place
For him who claimed a throne;--
His canopy, devoid of grace,
The rude, rough beams alone;
The heather couch his only bed--
Yet well I ween had slumber fled
From couch of eider down!
Through darksome night till dawn of day,
Absorbed in wakeful thought he lay
Of Scotland and her crown.
 
The sun rose brightly, and its gleam
Fell on that hapless bed,
And tinged with light each shapeless beam
Which roofed the lowly shed;
When, looking up with wistful eye,
The Bruce beheld a spider try
His filmy thread to fling
From beam to beam of that rude cot--
And well the insect's toilsome lot
Taught Scotland's future king.
 
Six times the gossamery thread
The wary spider threw;--
In vain the filmy line was sped,
For powerless or untrue
Each aim appeared, and back recoiled
The patient insect, six times foiled,
And yet unconquered still;
And soon the Bruce, with eager eye,
Saw him prepare once more to try
His courage, strength, and skill.
One effort more, his seventh and last!--
The hero hailed the sign!--
And on the wished-for beam hung fast
That slender silken line!
Slight as it was, his spirit caught
The more than omen; for his thought
The lesson well could trace,
Which even "he who runs may read,"
That Perseverance gains its meed,
And Patience wins the race.

Pith

Pith (pronounced pith)

(1) In botany, the soft, spongy central cylinder of parenchymatous tissue in the stems of dicotyledonous plants such as the soft, albedo, fibrous tissue lining the inside of the rind in fruits such as orange and grapefruit (also called medulla or marrow although both are now rare).

(2) In zoology (by extension), the soft tissue inside a human or animal body or one of their organs; specifically, the spongy interior substance of a hair, a horn or the shaft of a feather (also called medulla).

(3) In pathology, the spinal cord or bone marrow (archaic).

(4) In the veterinary sciences, the soft tissue inside a spinal cord; the spinal marrow; also, the spinal cord itself (also called medulla).

(5) A synonym of diploe (the thin layer of soft, spongy, or cancellate tissue between the bone plates which constitute the skull) (obsolete).

(6) The soft tissue of the brain (so rare some dictionaries site it as having “never come into technical use” and now in this context extinct).

(7) The soft inner portion of a loaf of bread (a regionalism associated with Ireland, Southern England and the West Country).

(8) As pith hat or pith helmet, a type of headgear made from the fibre sholapith, worn by during the nineteenth century by European explorers and imperial administrators in Africa, Asia and the Middle East before being adopted by military officers, rapidly becoming a symbol of status or rank, latterly re-defined as a symbol of oppression, especially because of their association with the British Raj in the Indian sub-continent.

(9) In mathematics, the ordinal form of the number pi (3.14159…) (the pith root of pi is 1.439…).

(10) By analogy, the important or essential part; essence; core; heart (synonymous with crux, gist, heart and soul, inwardness, kernel, marrow, meat, medulla, nitty-gritty, nub, quintessence, soul, spirit, substance etc).

(11) By analogy, significant weight; substance; solidity (now rare).

(12) Figuratively, physical power, might, strength, force, or vigor; mettle (archaic).

(13) Figuratively, a quality of courage and endurance; backbone, mettle, spine.

(14) In the veterinary sciences, to sever or destroy the spinal cord of a vertebrate animal, usually by inserting a needle into the vertebral canal.

(15) To extract the pith from (something or (figurative) someone).

Pre 900: From the Middle English pith & pithe (soft interior; pith, pulp) from the Old English piþa or pitha from the Proto-Germanic piþô, cognate with the West Frisian piid (pulp, kernel), the Dutch peen (carrot) & pitt and the Low German peddik or pedik (pulp, core).  All were derived from the earlier piþō (oblique pittan), a doublet of pit (in the sense of “seed or stone inside a fruit”).  Both the Old English piþa (pith of plants) and the Germanic variations enjoyed the same meaning but the figurative sense (most important part(s) of something) existed only in the English form.  The pith helmet dates from 1889, replacing the earlier pith hat (first recorded in 1884), both so called because they were made from the dried pith of the Bengal spongewood.  The verb meaning from the veterinary sciences (to kill by cutting or piercing the spinal cord) was first documented in the technical literature in 1805 but in livestock management it was an ancient practice.  The Middle English verb pethen (to give courage or strength) was derived from the noun pith but did not make the transition to modern English.  Pith is a noun, verb & adjective and pithlike, pithy, pithing & pithed are verbs and pithful & pithless are adjectives; the noun plural is piths.

The Pith Helmet

Headwear from the Raj.

The pith helmet, known also as the sun helmet, safari helmet, topi, topee, or sola topee was a lightweight cloth-covered piece of headgear made of the pith of the sola or shola (Indian spongewood) plant, covered with white cotton and faced with cloth (usually white, cream, biege or green).  Topee (pith helmet) was from the Hindi टोपी (ṭopī) (hat) and the Urdu ٹوپی‎ (ṭōpī) (hat).  The form has some linguistic overlap, the long -e phonetic suffix (variously and inconsistently as -e, -ie, -ee) often appended to create slang forms, affectionate diminutives or to indicate something was a smaller version of an original.  In Indian English for example, a coatee was a hook upon which one hangs one's coat, something unrelated to the original use in English where a coatee was a coat with short flaps, a mid-eighteenth century Americanism, the formation modeled on goatee, a style of beard at the time especially popular south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  Among the colonists and colonial administrators, by the early twentieth century, the most popular word to use was the Hindu topi. 

Symbols of the Raj, the pith helmet and the G&T (gin & tonic).  G&T was a great contribution to civilized life.

Most associated with the military and civil services of the European powers during the colonial period of the mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth century, pith helmets routinely were issued to or chosen by those going to hot climates.  As a general principle, the army used dark colours and civilians light (even white) helmets but under modern conditions, the military found them not suitable for the battlefield; the British Army withdrawing them from active use in 1948 although they continue to be worn on some ceremonial occasions (the famous plumed helmets are now seen less often).  Widely popular now only in Vietnam where it’s a remnant of French influence, its niche now is in the nostalgia-fashion industry although, as a symbol of white colonialism, use can be controversial.

The Emperor and his viceroy in topis: George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936) with Lord Hardinge (1858–1944; Viceroy of India 1910-1916), Government House, Calcutta, 1911.

Of fashions under the Raj, the fictional depictions on screen in which white linen suits often predominate can be misleading; pith helmets, especially during the cooler months, were paired with any daywear.  Until December 1911, Calcutta (now Kolkata) was the capital of British India but since the nineteenth century it had emerged as a hotbed of nationalist movements opposed to British rule, the response of Lord Curzon (1859–1925; Viceroy of India 1899-1905 & UK foreign secretary 1919-1924) being the partition of Bengal which made things worse, a massive upsurge in political and religious activity ensuing.  Had that manifested as letters to the editor or even "passive resistance" the British might have been sanguine but what happened was a boycott of British products and institutions and a spike in the assassinations of Calcutta-based officials.  The British rescinded Curzon's act of partition and relocated the colonial government to New Delhi, designating the city the new capital.

Over millennia, there have been many empires and the Raj and other European colonial ventures were just unusually large examples of a long tradition.  While no two empires exactly were alike, nobody has better distilled their (almost always) unstated rationale than George Orwell (1903-1950) who settled on: "theft" [of other peoples' lands, resources, treasure, women etc] and in the history of the Raj, there are a number of inflection points which, in retrospect, came to be seen as markers on the road to "end of empire".  The viceroy's retreat to New Delhi was one such moment and in the 35 years left to the Raj there were others so while the cumulative effects of the two World Wars (1914-1918 & 1939-1945) certainly rendered control of India (and much of the rest of the empire) financially unsustainable for the British, they were merely the Raj's death knell; what would come to be called the "winds of change" had for some time been blowing.

Sir Philip Mitchell (1890–1964) in plumed pith helmet while Governor of Kenya, with African tribal elders, awaiting the arrival of an aircraft during the 1952 royal tour, RAF Eastleigh Aerodrome (Now Moi Air Base), Nairobi, Kenya, February 1952.  

It was during this tour George VI (1895–1952; King of the United Kingdom 1936-1952) would die and his eldest daughter would be recalled from Kenya to London as Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022).  George VI had been the last Emperor of India, the imperial style a bauble dreamed up in 1876 by Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881, later First Earl of Beaconsfield; UK prime-minister Feb-Dec 1868 & 1874-1880), ostensibly as a means of cementing rule in India and emphasising the British Empire was a notch or two above the others in the geopolitical pecking order but also as a way of flattering Queen Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901), a form of "monarch management" at which old Disraeli was most adept; his technique with royalty he described as "laying it on with a trowel".  Serving earlier as Governor of Uganda (1935–1940) and Governor of Fiji (1942–1944), Sir Philip Mitchell was a classic peripatetic administrator of the type for decades sent here and there by the Colonial Office and plumed pith helmets were one of the symbols of viceroys, governors-general and governors, those with a military background tending to wear them more assuredly.

Lord Lytton (Edward Robert Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1831–1891, Viceroy of India 1876-1880).  As well as pith helmets, under the Raj, there was much dressing up.

By the time World War II ended, few doubted Indian independence would soon be granted; it was a matter just of working out the timing and the mechanism(s).  Intriguingly, even then the pith helmet was understood as something emblematic of colonial oppression and they had become unfashionable, their relegation to a soon to be needed suitcase sometimes a wise precaution, the archives of the India Office (1858-1947) in London including reports of officials wearing them being abused in the streets and even assaulted.  The sociological significance of the pith helmet was discussed in The Wrong Topi: Personal Narratives, Ritual, and the Sun Helmet as a Symbol (1984) by academic folklorists Frank de Caro (1943–2020) and Rosan Jordan (1939–2025) one anecdote illustrating how things had changed.  The language skills of Indian-born General Hastings “Pug” Ismay (1887–1965) and other officers in the British Army who had served in India proved useful during the evacuation from France as they were able to communicate in Hindi over open radio channels without fear of eavesdropping Germans knowing what was being said.  Ismay had left India in 1936 to take up an appointment with the CID (Committee of Imperial Defence) but when he returned in 1947 to become chief of staff to Lord Louis Mountbatten (1900–1979; last viceroy and first governor-general of India 1947-1948) he found it a changed place:

“Ismay was met at New Delhi airport by his old friend, Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck (1884–1981), then commander-in-chief of the Indian Army.  As Ismay stepped down from the plane, he was horrified to see what Auchinleck was wearing on his head: a beret.  Deeply shaken, the only words Ismay could stammer were: ‘My God, Claude!  Where your topi?’  When Ismay, years earlier, had last been in India, the topi had been more than a mere hat.  It had been a veritable icon.  During its heyday from the late nineteenth century to the late 1930s, no European would have thought of being abroad in the noonday sun without a topi squarely planted upon his head, and to have neglected to put one on would have been deemed both improper and unsafe.  All of that had changed by the time of Ismay's return, but the story testifies to the respect that was once accorded to this obligatory headgear.”

Sir Arthur Porritt (1900-1994; Governor-General of New Zealand, 1967-1972), Government House, Wellington, New Zealand, November 1970.

Although New Zealand was not a place of oppressive heat and harsh sunshine, there too, there was a time when governors-general appeared in plumed pith helmets.  A wartime military surgeon, Sir Arthur was a kind of transitional figure as the British Empire became a "Commonwealth of Nations", being New Zealand-born but resident in the UK, he was the country's first first locally born governor-general as all subsequent appointees have been.  In another sign of changing times, Sir Arthur was the last governor-general to wear the full civil uniform and, upon retirement, was raised to the peerage, in 1973 taking his seat in the House of Lords as Baron Porritt of Wanganui and Hampstead.

The exchange between Ismay and Auchinleck was a but footnote in the history of the Raj but seldom has such a brief, insignificant incident so well encapsulated a change so profound and it struck many including the historian Leonard Mosley (1913–1992) who discussed the implications in The Last Days of the British Raj (1961).  Interestingly in Lord Ismay’s own memoirs (1960) the old soldier focused on more the practical aspects of imperial fashion: “Having been brought up in the belief that anyone who failed to wear a pith helmet while the Indian sun was still in the sky was a lunatic, I blurted out, ‘Have you gone mad, Claude?  Where is your topee?’  He replied that, on the contrary, we had all been mad for a hundred years or more to wear such an un-comfortable and unnecessary form of head-gear.”  The shift in sentiment did though appear in a passage in The Jewel in the Crown (1966), the first part of the Raj Quartet (1966-1975) by Paul Scott (1920-1978), set in India during the last years of the Raj.  In the book, there’s a post-war scene in which an officer shocks his more politically aware colleagues by continuing to be attended by a young India manservant, the man blissfully unaware India has moved on while he has not.

Although in Hindi topi meant simply “hat”, by the end of the eighteenth century it had been re-purposed as a synecdoche, Europeans in India habitually referred to by the native inhabitants as “topi-wallahs” (ie wearers of hats rather than turbans).  From there, the term became more specialized and by the mid-1800s, almost exclusively it had become associated with a particular type of hat, the sun helmet which, with its relatively high crown and a wider brim, became so emblematic of European colonialism it was used in advertising and illustrations for many purposes.  Not only that but in India it became for the colonial administrators and many settlers a kind of uniform and a form of cultural assertion, one recounting: “The topi was a fetish; it was a tribal symbol. If you did not wear a topi you were not merely silly, you were a cad. You were a traitor.  You had gone native.”

Lindsay Lohan in pith helmet with riding crop, rendered as a line drawing by Vovsoft.

That attitude illustrates the role of the pith helmet in a way a structural functionalist would understand and may have more efficacy that Lord Ismay’s view of it as an essential tool of sun protection.  Even in the earlier days of the old East India Company, the staff physicians had argued sunstroke was the result of a rise in general body temperature and not necessarily from direct exposure to the sun, some even arguing the head was not especially susceptible to heat; they noted Indian adult males got along quite well with a different type of head protection and Indian women and children generally wore little or none.  While the pith helmet was not exclusive to India, it had not widely been adopted in other hot parts of the British Empire (such as outback Australia, the Americas or parts of Africa) and historians have speculated the real importance was psychological, a reassuring symbol of continuity.  Certainly, recent research has shown hats with wider brims provide much better protection from the sun but there was a ritualism associated with the things, diaries of travellers noting how passengers on ships routinely would put on their pith helmet after passing through the Suez Canal on their way to India and barely taking it off until entering the Mediterranean on the voyage home.  In short, it was a badge of Anglo-Indian identity.

In other words, it was an assertion of Britishness or “whiteness” in that it was a type of headgear worn by Europeans and very seldom by Indians.  Tellingly, those of mixed European and Indian ancestry, wore topis with even more enthusiasm than the English themselves; with the zeal of the convert as it were.  Jokes about Eurasians wearing pith helmets at inappropriate times (such as with pyjamas, in the bath or during moments of intimacy) became legion.  One often neglected aspect of the pith helmet shifting during the last days of the Raj from a symbol of authority to one of shame was that the nature of the British presence in India changed dramatically during the war as a consequence of the sub-continent’s strategic significance to the Far East Theatre.  During the conflict, a huge number arrived from the UK (military and civilian) and they often were of a different social class than those who had for a century made up the Anglo-Indian community, the overwhelming majority of them of type who would in pre-war conditions never have contemplated even a visit.  Putting a pith helmet on them did not a topi-wallah make and the old establishment knew the end was nigh, the demise of the hat not a cause but a harbinger of a change which had begun long before “the stroke of the midnight hour”.

Topi-wallah Melania Trump (b 1970; FLOTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) in pith helmet, on safari, Kenya, October, 2018.

In common with the more stylish FLOTUSes, Melania Trump’s choice of clothing pften has been analysed in search of political meaning, a deconstruction her husband escaped except for the commentary about the length he chose to allow his ties to hang and those observations were more personal than political.  Mrs Trump, doubtless well aware of the media's interest, wore a pith helmet while on safari near Nairobi, Kenya, attracting from the left criticism for donning a symbol of white colonial rule while from the right, approvingly it was observed a pith helmet had never looked so good.

Presumably, even if unaware she was courting controversy (which is unlikely), the White House would have spelled out the implications so the pith helmet must have been worn to be provocative and the reaction wouldn’t have been unexpected because a few weeks earlier, while visiting a migrant child detention centre, she choose a Zara jacket (US$39) emblazoned across the back with the words “I REALLY DON'T CARE, DO U?”  Clearly a garment for a photo-opportunity, it was worn not while in the presence of the children but only when entering the aircraft and helicopter used for the trip.  The press of course sought comment which elicited from the White House the expected contradictory responses which from day one has typified the media-management of the Trump administration.

Melania Trump in Zara jacket from the spring/summer 2016 collection, 2018.

The feeling among the press was that whatever the origins of the approach, the “confected confusion” was a deliberate strategy, unlike what prevailed under the previous administration of Joe Biden (b 1942; US president 2021-2025) which was merely “confused”.  Regarding the Zara jacket, the POTUS said the message was there for the “fake news media” while the FLOTAS’s communications chief insisted it was “just a jacket” and there was “no hidden message”.  Mrs Trump herself later (sort of) clarified things, telling ABC News the jacket “…was a kind of message, yes”, adding it was obvious she “…didn't wear the jacket for the children” and it was donned only “…to go on the plane and off the plane.... It was for the people and for the left-wing media who are criticizing me.  I want to show them I don't care.  You could criticize whatever you want to say.  But it will not stop me to do what I feel is right.”  Mrs Trump went on to reiterate her own critique of the media for being “obsessed” with what she wears, noting it was only the jacket which attracted attention rather than any matters to do with child detention or immigration more broadly: “I would prefer they would focus on what I do and on my initiatives than what I wear.”  It might seem curious a former model would express surprise at interest being taken in the clothes a woman wears but, well aware nothing can be done about that, she has proved more adept at weaponizing messages than most White House staff have managed.