Bespoke

Bespoke (pronounced bih-spohk)

(1) A simple past tense and past participle of bespeak.

(2) Of clothes, those made to individual order and custom custom-made.

(3) The making or selling such clothes.

(4) By extension, anything (physical or weightless) produced to a customer’s specifications, especially if a one-off creation.

(5) To ask for in advance; to reserve (obsolete).

(6) As bespeak & bespoken, betrothed or engaged to be married; spoken for (obsolete except in the literary novel).

1745–1755: The adjective was a coining in Modern English in the sense of “custom-made goods; made to order (as distinguished from ready-made; an item on the shelf of a shop)” from the late sixteenth century Middle English bespoken, the past-participle adjective from bespeak (in its sense of “arrange beforehand”), a prefixed variant of speak.  The verb bespeak was from the Middle English bispeken, from the Old English besprecan (speak about, speak against, complain), the construct being be- + sprecan (to speak).  A common Germanic compound (the cognates including the Old Saxon bisprecan, the Dutch bespreken, the Old High German bisprehhan and the German besprechen) originally meaning “to call out”, it evolved by the 1580s to enjoy a wide range of meaning in English, including “speak up”, “oppose”, “request”, “discuss”, “arrange” and “order (goods)”.  By virtue of the different application of the be- prefix, the connections between the various meanings of bespoke, bespeaking; bespeak etc are thought at least very loose and it’s clear some arose independently of others.  Bespoke long was used usually of tailored suits and other clothing but in recent decades it has been applied (with some enthusiasm) to products as diverse as a one-off Rolls-Royce and customized hacking software offered on the dark web.  Bespeak was from the Middle English bespeken & bispeken, from the Old English bespecan & besprecan (to speak about, speak against, accuse of, claim at law, complain), from the Proto-Germanic bisprekaną (to discuss, blame), the construct being be- +‎ speak.  It was cognate with the Scots bespeke (to beseech, speak or negotiate with), the West Frisian besprekke (to discuss), the Dutch bespreken (to discuss, review; debate) and the German besprechen (to discuss, review, talk about).  Bespoke & bespoken are verbs & adjectives, bespeak is a noun & verb, bespeaking is a verb, bespeaker & bespokeness are nouns and bespokely is an adverb; the noun plural use is rare.

Wartime bespoke tailoring, Henry Poole & Co (1806), Savile Row, London, 1944.

The be- prefix was from the Middle English be- & bi-, from the Old English be-, from the Proto-Germanic bi- (be-), from the Proto-Germanic bi (near, by), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European hepi (at, near) and cognate with the Saterland Frisian, West Frisian, Dutch, German Low German, German and Swedish be-.  Although there remain in English many relics of its use, (becalmed, beseige etc), the be- prefix has long ceased to be productive.  It was used to modify other forms to create various meanings: (1) By, near, next to, around, close to (beset), (2) Around; about (belay, bestir, belive), (3) About, regarding, concerning, over (bemoan, bewail), (4) On, upon, at, to, in contact with something (behold, befall), (5) Off, away, over, across (behead, besleeve), (6) As an intensifier (ie thoroughly, excessively; completely; utterly) (belabour, bedazzle), (7) All around; about; abundantly; all over (belick, bescatter), (8) Forming verbs derived from nouns or adjectives, usually with the sense of "to make, become, or cause to be" (becalm, befriend) and (9) Used to intensify adjectives meaning "adorned with something", often those with the suffix -ed (now mostly archaic or informal) (besequined, befeathered, beclawed, beloved).

Artist Louise Duggan (b 1974) delivers the bespoke "mixed-media work" Blue Lips, commissioned by Lindsay Lohan to hang in her Dubai villa, June 2023.

Bespoke is an uncontroversial word if applied in the way which for centuries mostly it was: clothing custom made for an individual, based on measurements taken prior to the tailor or seamstress cutting the fabric.  It was used also of the shoes made by cobblers, the gloves sewed by glove makers, the hats created by milliners and so on, all of whom had their own methods of maintaining their customer records, those dealing with body parts which usually didn’t much change able for decades to use the same dimensions; others had to re-measure with some frequency.  In the case of cobblers, for regular customers they would keep a pair of wooden lasts which emulated exactly the shape of the feet.  The synonyms for bespoke in this context included “custom-made”, “customized”, “purpose-built”, “tailored” & “tailor-made” and the traditional antonyms were “off the peg”, “off the rack” & “off the shelf”.  In recent years, “bespoke” has become a marketing term and stuff which is far from unique and in many cases produced in great volume (perhaps with some minor change) is now often labeled “bespoke” and “bespoke solution” is a favorite in the software business, whether it be something to manage a hairdressing salon or code on the dark web supplied by Russian hackers to certain branches of the DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea) military to facilitate theft or covert operations.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.  What the trend lines indicate is bespoke came increasingly to be used in the late twentieth century and the rate of increase has shown no signs of subsiding.  That may to some extent be accounted for by Google’s methods or the publications over-represented in its catchment but, impressionistically, it seems plausible and in the US, scholars by the 1990s were noting the way bespoke was tending to supplant the traditional American “custom”, apparently because the word had appeal because it conveyed “wealth and prestige” whereas custom had been devalued by its association with things like hotted-up motor cycles.  If bespoke is uncontroversial when used of anything genuinely one-off, the appropriateness when used of anything else needs to be assessed on a case by case basis and because it’s so popular in the business of expensive cars, they provide a good case-studies.

The Maserati 5000 GT (1959-1966)

1959 Maserati 5000 GT (Shah of Iran) by Touring.

Before the ayatollahs ran Iran, it was ruled by the Shah (king) and he got a lot more fun out of life than his clerical successors, noted especially as a connoisseur and of fast, exotic and expensive cars, his collection including multiple models from Lamborghini, Mercedes-Benz, Rolls-Royce, Ferrari and Maserati among others.  In 1958 he’d driven Maserati’s then popular 3500 GT but thought it lacking in power and, because hundreds a year were sold to the (rich) public, it seemed "a bit common".  Accordingly, after receiving material advertising both the 3500 GT and the remaining 450S race cars the factory wished to dispose of after withdrawing from racing, the shah decided he wanted a combination of the two: race engine in road car.  To have it created, essentially he sent Maserati a blank cheque and asked them to call when it was ready.  Delivered to the shah (Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, 1919-1980) in 1959, it was almost a secret but when a second, commissioned by a South African customer,  was displayed at the 1959 Turin Motor show, it generated such interest that Maserati soon were fielding enquiries from rich commoners wanting what royalty had.  Priced stratospherically however, there weren’t enough rich folk on the planet to make it a viable option for their production lines so it entered the catalogue as a bespoke item, Maserati modifying the 3500 chassis which, frankly had been a bit over-taxed by the big V8 and tweaking the engine still further, slightly increasing the capacity but in a way that rendered it more docile, yet still a howler when stirred.  The chassis appeared in the list and buyers could choose their own coachbuilder and eventually eight produced their own interpretations, the most numerous being by Carrozzeria Allemano which, over the years, finished twenty-two.

1959 Maserati 5000 GT by Allemano.

So the conclusion must be that the Shah’s original was and remains a true bespoke creation because exclusively it was built for him.  Of the other 33 5000 GTs built, although they were all variations on the theme and mechanically similar, no two were exactly alike and each was built in response to an order from an individual customer, some of whom specified certain touches.  Given that, all probably deserve to be regarded as bespoke though pedants might insist the chassis was a regular production item and only the coachwork was truly bespoke.  Few seem to agree and on the rare occasions the things are offered for sale, they’re almost always described as “bespoke”.

The Rolls-Royce Phantom IV (1950-1956)

1950 Rolls-Royce Phantom IV pick-up truck.  "Luxury" pick-up trucks have been produced in volume since the 1970s and the first existed in the pre-war years but the Phantom IV was the most exclusive of them all.

Among collectors, the Phantom IV has quite an allure because it was one of the few cars produced in any number never offered for sale to the general public, only 18 produced and available only to heads of state or crowned royalty (a distinction important in royal circles which has its own pecking order).  In a manner similar to the Maserati 5000 GT, no two Phantom IVs were exactly the same although all were built on substantially the same underpinnings (the only Rolls-Royce passenger cars ever to use a straight-8).  Thus all should be thought “bespoke” in the context of the industry but there was one version which radically was different, a Phantom IV pick-up truck (a style in some places called a "ute", a back-formation from "utility" which in linguistics is described as a "complex clipping" or "elliptical abbreviation" although the punchier "short for" is the more common use) which was used by the factory to ferry bits & pieces from place to place.  So it’s a genuine one off pick-up truck but because it was just a functional workhorse which existed only because an unsalable prototype chassis was available, it’s never been regarded as something bespoke, the long ago scrapped “shop ute” just a historic curiosity.  The other 17 Phantom IVs used the body-styles more expected of the Phantom lineage (limousines, cabriolets and landaulets) and three were built for Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) but even in the less litigious 1950s there was a awareness words needed carefully to be chosen.  When ordering one of the two built as formal limousines (in five and seven-seat configurations), the Spanish embassy in London specified "bullet-proof bodywork" but the coach-builder (H. J. Mulliner), aware there were now some very big bullets, replied what they could do was fit "armoured panels" but a guarantee of "bullet proof" wasn't possible.  A practical military man, the Generalissimo must have accepted that because all were built and remain in the possession of the Spanish Army, still sometimes use for state occasions.    

The Rolls-Royce Phantom V (1959-1968) & Phantom VI (1968-1990)

1973 Rolls-Royce Phantom VI "All Weather Cabriolet" (four-door convertible) by Fura (right) and 1971 Rolls-Royce Phantom VI DHC by Fura (left). 

By comparison with the exclusive Phantom IV, its two successors were almost mass-produced, 1206 (832 of the Phantom V & 374 of the VI respectively) crafted over three decades.  In this case, it’s thought only some should be thought truly bespoke because although there were a few variations in the coachwork, many were substantially the same and its only the ones with the greatest differences (notably the odd sedanca de ville, the handful of landaulets or the other “state” cars with their elevated rooflines) which are usually thought “bespoke” and even they weren’t unique things like the Phantom IVs.  Two of the bodies on the Phantom VI chassis however indisputably were bespoke.  By the 1970s, it was only the big Phantom VI which Rolls-Royce still built on the separate chassis which made bespoke bodies easier to mount so anyone wanting a really exclusive Rolls-Royce had no other choice.  Accordingly the Italian house Fura fashioned two very big bespoke creations, one a DHC (drophead coupé, which by then the rest of the world was calling a cabriolet or convertible), the other described as an "all weather cabriolet" (which eventually was re-fashioned as a four-door convertible).  Both were on a scale not seen since seen since the 1930s and nothing like them has since been attempted.  Because the limousine chassis was designed for something long, narrow and tall, both the Fura cars were fundamentally ill-proportioned although skilled photographers have managed to create pleasing images by selecting just the right angle.  Flawed though they were, at the time there was probably nothing on four wheels which so conveyed disposable wealth which, in many cases, is of course often the essence of the bespoke.  It was a good thing they made such an impression because presumably it dissuaded people from looking too closely: underneath the engineering was pure Phantom VI which meant drum brakes and a rear axle suspended on semi-elliptic (cart) springs so it was (refined) Ford Model T (1908) technology under all that leather and burl walnut veneer.  Such was the attention to detail those cart spring were encased in Wefco leather gaiters so those enjoying the seclusion of the rear compartment (trimmed usually in West of England cloth rather than the leather on which the chauffeur sat) weren't disturbed by any tiresome squeaks.   

1956 Mercedes-Benz 300c (W186 "Adenauer") Estate Car by Binz.

Consumption can be conspicuous yet still subtle, achieved usually if a bespoke creation is both expensive and functional.  The Mercedes-Benz 300 saloons and four-door cabriolet of (W186 & W189 1951-1962) were large, stately and beautifully built and the platform attracted coachbuilders who saw the potential for estate cars (station wagons), ambulances and (especially) hearses.  Many were built and the hearses in particular typically aren't regarded as bespoke because they were essentially catalogue items with little variation between editions.  Some of the rare estates ("shooting brakes" to the English, "station wagons" in North America and for a time, "station sedans" if built by Holden, General Motors' (GM) Australian outpost) however have always been treated as bespoke even though from an engineering point of view the changes were minimal and the styling hardly imaginative.  The reason for the association seems to be that they “dripped money”; even to the uninformed they were obviously expensive so it seems possible there is the matter of "bespoke by acclamation".  Interestingly, in 1960 the factory did their own one-off 300 Estate, this one a “telemetry car” built in the era before sensors to travel at high speed on a test track, recording data from the vehicle ahead, the two tethered with long cables.  Styled in an almost avant-garde manner with rear glass which curved into the roof, the factory regarded it rather as Rolls-Royce treated their pick-up: a mule to be used until something better came along.  They never called it bespoke.

1965 Aston Martin DB5 Shooting Brake.

Sir David Brown (1904–1993) liked his DB5 coupé (which the factory in their English way called a "saloon") but found it too cramped comfortably to accommodate his polo gear, shotguns and hunting dogs.  Now, that would be called a “first world problem” but because Brown then owned Aston Martin, he simply wrote out a work order and had his craftsmen create a bespoke shooting brake (an English term best understood as “station wagon owned by someone rich”) which they did by hand-forming the aluminum with hammers over wooden formers.  It delighted him and solved his problem but created another because good customers stared writing him letters asking for their own.  Unfortunately, Aston Martin was at full capacity building DB5s and developing the up-coming DB6 and V8 models.  With a bulging order book, the resources didn’t exist to add a niche model so the project was out-sourced to the coachbuilder Radford which built a further 11 (and subsequently another 6 based on the DB6).  That Brown’s original car was bespoke seems clear but the others might be a gray area because the coachbuilder’s records and assessments of the cars indicate they were identical in all but the color of the paint and leather trim.  There may have been only 12 DB5s and 6 DB6s but by conventional definition, they came of a production line, albeit a leisurely and exclusive one so can all but the original be thought truly bespoke?  According to the Aston Martin website, they are bespoke so that’s presumably the last word on the subject.

There is even bespoke Nutella.  In 2014, while appearing on-stage in a London production of David Mamet's (b 1947) Speed-the Plow (1988), Lindsay Lohan stayed at the Mandarin Oriental hotel which supplied her with a personalized jar of the nutty treat, complete with bespoke label.

At its messy margins, English often troubles the purists but it’s a democratic language and meanings do evolve through popular use.  That can mean a meaning shift as has happened to “decimate” (originally “reduce by 10%”; probably now understood as “reduce to 10%”) or alternative meanings can emerge and run in parallel.  In tailoring, “bespoke” is used still in its original sense but with cars it seems now industry shorthand for “one-off or short-run variants” of existing models.  In the matter of the DB5 Shooting Brakes, the rear coachwork for Sir David’s original genuinely was “bespoke” and what Radford did was eleven exact replications but, by even Aston Martin’s then standards, a dozen-odd is a small number with enough of a hint of “exclusivity” for the label to seem appropriate.  That of course does beg the question: At what point does a design cease reasonably to be called “bespoke” if identical copies are being produced?  Empirically, the number must be “greater than eleven” but it probably can’t be defined except by suggesting it’s the point at which production can be said to have happened in “a series” and that should be well-short of three figures.  Of cars, “bespoke” now probably is over-used but its new career seems here to stay.

The Smart Fortwo (top left) and some bespoke imaginings channeling (clockwise) DMC DeLorean (in filmic incarnation), Chevrolet Corvette, Lotus Esprint, Porsche 911, Bugatti Veyron, Lamborghini Countach and Jaguar E-Type (XKE) .

Some year ago, even before mass-market generative AI made such sights routine, the happy combination of the internet, Photoshop and a large cohort of gullible viewers encouraged the creation of a meme purporting to be a survey of the bespoke carbon fibre bodies available to be bolted to the diminutive Smart Fortwo (C451; 2007-2015).  Even a cursory look at the scale of the humans included in some of the photos should have been enough for people to work out this was fake news but the "factory" is said to have received “some” enquiries asking where the bespoke bodies could be bought.

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.

Egregious

Egregious (pronounced ih-gree-juhs)

(1) Extraordinary in some bad way; glaring; flagrant.

(2) Extraordinary in some good way; distinguished or eminent (archaic).

1525–1535: From the Middle English, from the Latin ēgregius (preeminent; outstanding, literally “standing out from the herd”), the construct being ē- (out (and in Latin an alternative to ex-)) + greg-, stem of grēx (flock, herd) + -ius.  Grēx was from the primitive Indo-European hzger- (to assemble, gather together) which influenced also the Spanish grey (flock, crowd), the Lithuanian gurguole (mass, crowd) and gurgulys (chaos, confusion), the Old Church Slavonic гроусти (grusti) (handful), the Sanskrit गण (gaṇá) (flock, troop, group) and ग्राम (grā́ma) (troop, collection, multitude; village, tribe), and the Ancient Greek ἀγείρω (ageírō) (I gather, collect) (from whence came ἀγορά (agorá)).  The link to the Proto-Germanic kruppaz (lump, round mass, body, crop) is contested.  The English –ous was a Middle English borrowing from the Old French -ous and –eux from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of) and is as doublet of -ose in unstressed position; it was used to form adjectives from nouns and to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, most commonly in abundance.  Egregious is an adjective, egregiously is an adverb and egregiousness is a noun; the noun plural is the delicious egregiousnesses.

Meaning adaptation & shift

There are many words in English where meaning has in some way or to some degree shifted but egregious is one of the rarities which now means the opposite of what it once did.  There are others such as nice which used to mean “silly, foolish, simple”; silly which morphed from referring to things “worthy or blessed” to meaning “weak and vulnerable” before assuming its modern sense; awful which used to describe something “worthy of awe” and decimate, once a Roman military term to describe a death-rate around 10% whereas it implies now a survival rate about that number.  In English, upon its sixteenth century adoption from Latin, egregious was a compliment, a way to suggest someone was distinguished or eminent.  That egregiously clever English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) was flattering a colleague when he remarked, "I am not so egregious a mathematician as you are…" which would today be thought an insult.

The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes that in 1534, egregious unambiguously meant "remarkable, in a good sense" but as early as 1573, people were also using it to mean "remarkable, in a bad sense."  The documentary evidence appears sparse but the OED speculates the meaning started to switch because people were using the word sarcastically or at least with some gentle irony.  In the linguistically democratic manner in which English evolves, the latter prevailed, presumably because people felt there were quite enough ways to compliment others but were anxious always to add another insult to the lexicon.  Shakespeare, with his ear for the vernacular, perhaps helped.  Christopher Marlowe (1564–1593) employed it in the older sense in his Tamburlaine (1590), writing of “egregious viceroys of these eastern parts…” but within a generation, William Shakespeare (1564–1616) has Posthumus condemn himself in Cymbeline (1611) in the newer condemnatory sense: “egregious murderer”, echoing his earlier use in All's Well That Ends Well (1605).  Both meanings appear to have operated in parallel until the eighteenth century which must have hurt a few feelings or perhaps, in an age of dueling, something more severe.

Imogen Sleeping (from Shakespeare's Cymbeline), circa 1899 by Norman Mills Price (1877–1951).

In southern Europe however, the bard’s words failed to seduce the Romance languages.  The Italian formal salutation egregio is entirely reverential, as are the both the Spanish and Portuguese cognates, egregio and egrégio.