Courtesy

Courtesy (pronounced kur-tuh-see or kurt-see (now rare))

(1) Excellence of manners or social conduct; polite behaviour.

(2) A respectful or considerate act or expression.

(3) Indulgence, consent, or acquiescence; something granted or extended in the absence of any specific right.

(4) Favor, consent, help, or generosity.

(5) An alternative spelling of curtsy (archaic and probably obsolete).

(6) Something done or performed as a matter of politeness or protocol.

(7) Something offered or provided free by the management.

(8) In law, the life interest that the surviving husband has in the real or heritable estate of his wife.

1175–1225: From the Middle English curteisie (courtly ideals; chivalry, chivalrous conduct; elegance of manners, politeness (also “a courteous act, act of civility or respect”)), from the Old French curteisie & cortoisie (courtliness, noble sentiments; courteousness; generosity) (which in modern French endures as courtoisie), from curteis (courteous).  The construct was courteo(u)s +‎ -y (the abstract noun suffix).  From the late thirteenth century the word was used and understood as “good will, kindness” but it gained the sense of “a reward, a gift” an echo of that enduring in the modern term “by courtesy of” (something received without payment or other consideration).  By the mid-fourteenth century courtesy was part of etiquette in the sense of “refinement, gentlemanly conduct” and related to that is the development of curteisie (source of the English “curtsy”.  The noun discourtesy (incivility, bad manners, rudeness) was in use by at least the 1550s and may have been influenced by the fifteenth century Old French discourtoisie, from discourtois although other forces in English construction were anyway by then prevalent.  The idea of a discourtesy being an “an act of disrespect” emerged late in the sixteenth century.  There is in polite society the notion of “common courtesy” which means the obligation to afford a certain respect to all, regardless of their status and courtesy is thought a good quality and a marker of civilization.  Clearly however, one can have “too much of a good thing” because some style and etiquette guides note the rare noun “overcourtesy” (excessive courtesy) which can suggest obsequiousness, sycophancy, or needless, time-consuming formalism.  Courtesy is a noun, verb & adjective, courtesying is a noun & verb, courtesied is a verb; the noun plural is courtesies.

The noun curtsy seems to have appeared in the 1540s with the sense of “an expression of respect (ie a variant of courtesy) while the specific meaning “a bending the knee and lowering the body as a gesture of respect” dates from the 1570s and the gesture was not then exclusive to women, the convention “men bow; women curtsy” not (more or less) standardized in England until the 1620s.  Predictably, it was the Victorians who coined “courtesy call” to refer to “a visit made for the sake of politeness”, in use by at least 1898.  The term was adopted as part of the language of diplomacy, describing the (usually symbolic) formal visits an ambassador or other emissary of a state makes to a head of state or other local official “out of courtesy” (ie with no substantive purpose).  That notion vaguely was related to the admiralty practice of the “courtesy flag”; a visiting vessel by convention and as a mark of respect flying the flag of the host nation (as well as that of her own) when entering port.  Perhaps opportunistically, in commerce, “courtesy card” is used as the alternative name for the “customer loyalty card” while the “courtesy clerk” was the employee who “bagged customers' purchases”; they were also called the “bagger” and the species is believed now functionally extinct, even in Japan where, until the “lost decade” (the 1990s although many economists claim that epoch has yet to end), they were once an established part of “shop culture”.  Probably the most memorable use of the word is in the term “courtesy flush” which is the “mid-sitting flush” (of a toilet) performed by men thoughtful enough to wish to avoid inflicting on others: “unpleasant odours”.

1973 Imperial LeBaron Four-Door Hardtop (left) and 1978 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham Coupe (right).  In cars, courtesy lamps (or lights, seen illuminated in the left-rear door kick panel (left)) are located where light may be needed (start buttons, where a passenger is about to put their feet etc) and they differ from “specific purpose” lights such as “map reading” lights (seen illuminated, right).  The significance of the name was in the “courtesy” the fittings exercised by automatically switching on when a door was opened.  By contrast, a map-reading light manually was activated as required.  Map-reading lights were fitted on more expensive vehicles because before maps migrated to glowing screens, they were on paper and to be read in a low-light environment, an external light source was needed.  

Both “uncourtesy” and “discourtesy” have at times been in use and the difference primarily is one of usage frequency, historical development, and semantic nuance.  Discourtesy is the established, idiomatic noun in modern English and is used variously to denote rudeness, a lack of courtesy, an impolite act and such.  The form emulated a use in the Old French and it has been in continuous, standard usage since the Middle English period; in contemporary English, it remains the correct and expected form.  Uncourtesy literally means “absence of courtesy” but has for centuries been rare and now is close to obsolete, appearing only in historic references or as a literary device.  That reflects the way English evolves because although the word adhered to the use of the un- prefix pattern (as in unkindness), people for whatever reason settled on the dis- form for this lexeme.  In structural linguistics, it’s true that because of the Latin origin of the “dis-” prefix, that would imply “reversal-negation-deprivation” whereas the Germanic “un-” would suggest “simple negation, but English lexical convention matters more than morphology and the pattern of use has made “discourtesy” the standard noun.  Probably that was a consequence of the Latin-influenced forms gaining sociolinguistic prestige over those words with a Germanic core from the native, Old English vocabulary.  After the Norman Conquest (1066 and all that), what came later to be known as the “Romance superstratum” (the massive influx of words and elements from Norman French and Latin) rapidly undertook a form of linguistic colonialism and words which entered English through French or Latin often arrived morphologically pre-packaged with Romance affixes; English did not build discourtesy from scratch; either it was inherited or imposed, depending on one’s views of such processes and that history is the reason disloyal & dishonest emerged and endured while unloyal & unhonest did not.  Pragmatically though, speakers settled, on a case-by-case-basis on whichever worked best: thus untruth, unlikely and such prevailing because they were the most pleasing pure negations, something more significant than the tendency for native Germanic bases to take “un-”, however a robust morphological bias this may describe.

Prelude to a handover: Donald Trump (left) and Barak Obama (right) shaking hands, the White House, November, 2016.  The handshake is one one of humanity's oldest courtesies. 

Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) was known carefully to choose his words (indeed, he’d complain he thought himself a better speech-writer than those hired to do the job) and he used “courtesy” when issuing something of a lament at the depiction of him and his wife (Michelle Obama (b 1964; FLOTUS 2009-2017) as “digitally altered” apes in a video shared by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) on his Truth Social platform.  Although President Obama’s artful text only “indirectly addressed the racist video”, few would have failed to draw the connection between the two and for students of the technique, his response was a fine example of Michelle Obama’s “when they go low, we go high” school of thought.  While not mentioning the president, Obama observed there seemed no longer “…any shame about this among people who used to feel like you had to have some sort of decorum and a sense of propriety and respect for the office” but “that’s been lost”, adding “there's this sort of clown show that's happening in social media and on television.”  While he understood the political value in such a post because “it gets attention” and is “a distraction”, his feeling was “it's important to recognise that the majority of the American people find this behaviour deeply troubling” and that when travelling around the nation, he would meet people who “still believe in decency, courtesy, kindness.”

Behind the famous lectern: Karoline Leavitt (b 1997; White House press secretary since 2025) who also has retreated a little from previously well-established standards of courtesy.

For a president to have reposted such an obviously racist trope would even a year ago have been unthinkable and a major political scandal but so rapidly has the culture shifted that within barely 48 hours, it had fallen from the news cycle, relegated to just another footnote in the history of Trump 2.0 (which definitely is not Trump 1.1).  Although there was widespread, if remarkably muted criticism from both Republicans and Democrats, the White House initially defended the video, calling the backlash “fake outrage” before noting the volume and deleting the video, blaming the sharing on an (unnamed) member of staff.  Citing the actions by the staffer, Mr Trump said “I didn't make a mistake” and thus would not be issuing an apology, adding he’d not watched the whole clip so didn’t see the offensive image.  Analysts of such things were divided on whether the fact the posting happened “in the middle of the night” made the “staffer cover story” less or more plausible but all that information attracted renewed interest when, a couple of days, from the famous lectern, Karoline Leavitt asserted everything posted on President Trump’s social media account comes “directly” from him: “It’s coming straight from the horse’s mouth” as she put it.  “When you see it on Truth Social, you know it’s directly from President Trump. That’s the beauty of this president, his transparency in relaying the administration’s policies to the rest of you and the world.”  Trumpologists were left to make of that what they could.

In literature, the “courtesy book” was a “book of etiquette” but many of the early editions of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries went beyond the merely prescriptive in that they embodied a philosophy of the art of living (elegantly and with virtù (Italian for “virtue)) and provided a guide to help.  The ones which survive are noted for their high literary standard and are of great interest to historians because they’re an invaluable source for the history of education, ideas, customs and social behaviour of certain classes.  While the readership of some originally would have been the “upper middle class” or those who aspired to attain that status or at least emulate their manners, there were also courtesy books written for servants going to work in the houses or on the estates of the gentry; these existed so they’d know “how to behave”.  From the fifteenth century, changes in society were profound as the mass production of gunpowder and books exerted their respective influences and it was in this era the concept of “the gentleman” can be said to have emerged in a recognizably modern form, best understood in the most refined version in the term “Renaissance man”; from this point, culture and education really became courtesy's companion terms.  In earlier times, there had been what were known as “conduct books” but the emphasis in these was on morality deportment, manners and religion; they were very much in the “thou shall not” tradition of repressive Christianity.  Reflecting the way the Renaissance spread north and west, among the most influential of the courtesy books were those publish in Venice in the 1520s & 1530s, some of which began to appear in English translation by the mid-1570s.

Woodcut illustration for Book II (Cantos VII-XII) of The Faerie Queene (1590) by Edmund Spenser (circa 1552-1599).

Although The Faerie Queene was an epic-length poem recounting tales of knightly exploits and written in a deliberately archaic style, it merged history and myth, drawing especially on the Arthurian legends with each of the books an allegorical following of a knight who represents a particular virtue (holiness, temperance, chastity, friendship, justice and courtesy) which will be tested by the plot.  It’s long been of interest to scholars of the work of William Shakespeare (1564–1616) because Book Two appears to be a source for much of King Lear (circa 1605) (and has drawn the ire of some feminists) but some critics have suggest it can (almost) be described as the “Bible of Renaissance anthropocentric humanism, which, in its most idealistic form, was a sort of apotheosis of man.”  That may seem a little “purple” but in The Faerie Queene, with its depictions of the Renaissance conceptions of knightly and chivalrous conduct, the author’s purpose was clear.  Indeed, in the dedication he wrote: “The generall end therefore of all the booke is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline.”  In scope and literary form, it’s regarded still the “most ambitious courtesy book of all.”

Mandy all dressed up but now with no place to go: The Right Honourable Peter “Mandy” Mandelson PC, Baron Mandelson of Foy and Hartlepool (b 1953) in the scarlet robes (the white trim now miniver or even faux fur rather than the traditional ermine) worn on certain ceremonial occasions in the House of Lords.

In 2008, Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010), for reasons understandable if not admirable, granted Mandy a barony (the lowest step on the UK's five-rung peerage system), thereby "ennobling" him with a seat in the House of Lords.  The peerage entitled him (for life) to use the title "Lord" and, as one of His Majesty's privy counsellors (appointed in 1998), he may (again for life) add a post-nominal "PC" and be styled "the Right Honourable".  The membership of the Privy Council (essentially, members of the UK cabinet and a select few others) is unusual in that even if members cease to hold the role which justified their appointment, they don't cease to be a member; they just are "not summoned".

However, unlike the removal of a peerage (which requires an act of parliament), any member may at any time resign from the council as would be expected in the case of a scandal which can't be "swept under the mat" as in the preferred practice in Westminster, one famous example being John Profumo (1915–2006) who in 1963 (while aged 56, "happily married" and serving as Secretary of State for War (ie minister of defence)) was found to be having an affair with a young lady of 19 who simultaneously also was enjoying the affections of a KGB spy attached to the Soviet embassy in London.  That scandal played a part in dooming a Tory (Conservative Party) government which had been in office 13 years but never has Mandy been accused of sleeping with women who are in some state of concubinage with the Kremlin's spies so that's one transgression of which he'll never be accused.  Mandy since 2008 has for most purposes been styled as “Lord Mandelson” and that is not a courtesy title because as a “life peer” Mandy enjoys the same privileges (other than not being able to pass the barony to an eldest son) as one who inherited his barony and were he to have children, they would be entitled to style themselves “the honourable”.  It’s believed he does not plan to have children.

As a footnote, for everyone except royalty, some of the the five notches in the UK's peerage system now exist only for historic reference or to keep track of the still extant holders of the titles no longer or rarely created.  All the life peers are barons while since the mid-1960s the creation of viscounts (rung 2) & earls (rung 3) as hereditary titles has been rare and restricted to a handful of (mostly Tory) political party grandees.  No marquess (rung 4) has been created since 1936 and that may be symbolic because while it had become something of a convention to grant retiring prime ministers an earldom, a returning Viceroy of India had come to expect a marquessate.  Dukedoms (rung 5) have not been awarded to non-royal personages since the nineteenth century and the last recipient with no connection to a royal household by marriage enjoyed their elevation in 1874.  Within the family, the palace continues to dole-out dukedoms, earldoms & viscountcies to themselves, none of which appear to be merit-based awards but merit is hardly a concept the royal family would much like to intrude into any conversation involving them.  In truth, for those few who ponder such things, the practice probably is thought a harmless quaintness with even the most ardent monarchist likely to struggle to suggest exactly what Prince Edward (b 1964) has achieved to deserve being also Earl of Wessex (created 1999), Earl of Forfar (created 2019) and Duke of Edinburgh (granted 2023) although he might point out he’s not as bad as his brother Andrew so there’s that. 

Mandy in underpants (presumably his but who knows?).  There is no suggestion Mandy engaged in inappropriate or improper conduct with this unidentified young lady.

The photograph was released by the US DoJ (Department of Justice) in one of the tranches of files related to convicted paedophile sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019).  It was shot in Epstein's New York City apartment when asked about the circumstances, his lordship responded by saying he “did not recall”.  About that (lack of) recollection, some were uncharitably cynical but it does seem plausible given (1) Mandy doubtless spent much time meeting folk while wandering Epstein’s apartment in his underpants and (2) because Epstein had so many “acquaintances”, Mandy could hardly be expected to remember them all.

There are many “courtesy titles”, a class of address loosely defined as those governed by social convention, long-established practice or even administrative convenience.  In the UK’s intricate peerage system, courtesy titles are those used by certain relatives of peers, even though they do not themselves hold a substantive peerage and are not in law members of the peerage so thus never conferred with any right to sit in the House of Lords.  Although almost universally acknowledged, the courtesy titles are sustained only by convention rather than letters patent.  The interaction of the multi-tiered structure of the UK’s peerage system and the distinctions between (1) elder & younger sons and (2) daughters means there are a number of “rules” for courtesy titles but collectively they mean, for most purposes, depending on which rung on the peerage their father stands, sons commonly are styled either “Lord” or “The Honourable” and daughters “Lady” or “The Honourable”.  Wives also gain a honorific with them being granted a style based on the peerage held by their husband although other than the wives of dukes (who are “duchesses”), for most purposes, the convention follows calling non-ducal male peers “Lord” in that the wives are styled “Lady”.  Complicating all this is there are now also female peers so while, for example, the wife of a baron usually would be styled “Lady”, if a woman in her own right holds a barony, the most pedantic would use “baroness”.  All this may sound arcane but when moving in certain circles the official Order of Precedence can be socially consequential because, when attending events, it can dictate things like where one gets to sit and (more significantly), with whom.  So, the significance of the element “courtesy” in “courtesy title” is that use is “a courtesy extended” and not “a right acknowledged”.  That’s why Mr Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960, formerly Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Admiral etc) was not deprived of being styled “Lord” (something usually attached to the younger son of a duke) because, in the legal sense, the title never existed, such use a mere (though widely observed) convention.  Of course, anyone can if they wish call him “Lord Andrew” though it seems unlikely many will bother.  Maybe his ex-wife will grant him that one final courtesy.

Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) coveted medals and decorations but had little interest in titles; although the grandson of a Duke of Marlborough, his self-image was that of “a great House of Commons man” and one peer once lamented: “The House of Lords means nothing to him”, another noble noting: “he thinks us a collection of disreputable old gentlemen”.  In opposition in 1946 he’d been offered a KG (Knight The Most Noble Order of the Garter (1348), the oldest and most senor knighthood in the UK’s orders of chivalry) but declined because he didn’t like the idea of receiving something recommended by a socialist prime minister.  In 1953, back in office, he accepted because “now only the queen decides” but did regret having to become “Sir Winston” rather than the plain “Mr Churchill” he claimed to prefer, observing to the cabinet secretary: “I don’t see why I should not have the Garter but continue to be known as Mr Churchill.  After all, my father was known as Lord Randolph Churchill, but he was not a lord.  That was only a courtesy title.  Why should I not continue to be called Mr Churchill as a discourtesy title?”  Sir Winston he became although his wife (1885-1977) would have preferred he not accept.  Other wives have been keener, the New Zealand trade union leader Sir Tom Skinner (1909–1991; President of the NZ FoL (Federation of Labour) 1959-1979) explaining to colleagues that while he had no wish to be Sir Tom, he didn’t fancy going home to tell his wife she wouldn’t soon be “Lady Skinner” although, given the darkly comic possibilities in that moniker, some women might have had second thoughts.

Woodrow Wilson (left) and Colonel House (right), New York City, 1916.

In the US, south of the Mason-Dixon Line, there have been many “captains” and “colonels” who had little or no military experience and some became well known including the Dutch-born impresario Colonel Tom Parker (1909–1997) who managed the singer Elvis Presley (1935-1977) and Colonel Edward House (1858–1938) who was for years the most influential of the camarilla in the White House of Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; POTUS 1913-1921).  Colonel House had been a king-maker in Texas politics but during World War I (1914-1918) it was his advice in international relations Wilson often preferred and, despite lacking any background in matters of European politics, was appointed the US’s senior diplomat at the Paris Peace Conference (1919).  Disappointed by the outcome of the conference and feeling deceived by House who had, during the president’s absence in Washington DC, made certain decisions on his behalf, Wilson sundered their relationship; after House returned to the US, they would never meet again.  To the president it had been simply a matter of the colonel “getting ideas above his station” but, to his dying day, House believed the estrangement was engineered at least in part by the second Mrs Wilson (1872-1961), the “blame the wife” theory a recurrent theme in dynastic and political history.  There was of course also Colonel Harland Sanders (1890–1980) who was 1935 was created a member of the HOKC (Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels) by Ruby Laffoon (1869–1941; governor of Kentucky 1931-1935) and his memory lives on in the fast food KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken), a culinary institution now with more international recognition than the HOKC despite “Kentucky Colonel” being the highest honor bestowed by the state and the nation’s best-known colonelcy.

Colonel Sanders outside a Kentucky Fried Chicken store.  The latte-day name change to "KFC" was effected because the word "fried" had gained negative connotations.

The title became much associated with Texas and many of the Southern States. It was Texas Governor Jim Hogg (1851–1906; governor of Texas 1891-1895) who in 1893 appointed Edward House as a member of his gubernatorial staff, granting him the honorary rank which recipients were entitled to keep for life.  It was something that carried no military command or responsibilities and no federal commission, operating at the “social and political” level something like a Rotary Club membership in that while it conferred a certain perception of status, there was also an expectation (sometimes honoured, sometimes not) the member would fulfil some philanthropic or other worthy public services.  Legally, the basis for the practice dated from the historic rights of governors to appoint officers in their state’s militias and after federation, as the US evolved, the use was extended to non-military use, titles there quite sought after because with no honors systems granting them (knighthoods, peerages and such), those who attain some elected or appointed office (governor, admiral, judge, mayor, senator, ambassador etc), tend for life so to be styled; those who have several get to choose which they prefer.  South of the Mason-Dixon Line, there was an attachment to the tradition because of the cultural significance of the Antebellum Militias which, before the US Civil War (1861-1865) had enjoyed great social prestige, officers drawn often from the (obviously white) elites, plantation owners, lawyers, merchants and such; the granting of a colonelcy didn’t confer community authority: it acknowledged it.  Although much of what was “Southern culture” passed into history, the system remained and proved handy in the way knighthoods and peerages fulfil the function in the UK: (1) rewarding political supporters, (2) providing a quid pro quo to party donors, (3) cementing patronage networks and (4) “paying off” debts or “hushing up” those with troublesome knowledge.  By the early twentieth century, so numerous and associated with unsavoury politics had the colonelcies become that the title became a popular device for satirists.

Jaguar Nashville’s page listing its retired courtesy vehicles available for purchase, the concept much the same as the way “dealer demo cars” are sold.

While in the last decade-odd the engineering has mostly been good, Jaguar has yet to find a way to create a design language to match the distinctive “look” which for more than half-a-century underpinned its success after World War II (1939-1945).  The most recent attempt met with derision although that was a reaction more to the unsubtle DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) “messaging” in the images used, the approach about as heavy-handed as the lines of the “concept EV” (electric vehicle) later shown.  Because what came to be understood as “a Jaguar” was so defined by what was done in the post-war years, there seems no obvious path for the designers so the company is left in a crowded field, competing on the basis of dynamic qualities and price-breakdown, able no longer to summon the intangible (but real) emotional appeal of old. 

In the US, the medical degree qualifying a graduate to seek to practice the profession is the MD (Doctor of Medicine) but elsewhere in the English speaking world the standard award is MB BS (Bachelor of Medicine & Bachelor or Surgery).  Despite that, most of the latter routinely are styled “doctor” despite not holding a doctorate (MD in the UK and Commonwealth (like a PhD (doctor of philosophy)) awarded as a higher degree after submission of a thesis rather than a course of instruction).  Historically, for medical practitioners, the use of the title “doctor” comes from many layers, dating from antiquity, medieval university practice, professional licensing traditions and later social conventions.  “Doctor” did originally denote “a doctorate” though not in the modern academic sense.  So, for those appropriately qualified in medicine (whether MD or MB BS) “doctor” really isn’t a “courtesy title” but a job title although, of late it’s been adopted also by dentists and vets and some insist that in such cases it should be thought of exactly that.  Doctor was from the Middle English doctor & doctour (an expert, authority on a subject), from the Anglo-Norman doctour, from the Latin doctor (teacher), from doceō (to teach).  It displaced the native Middle English lerare (teacher), from the Middle English leren (to teach, instruct) from the Old English lǣran & lēran (to teach, instruct, guide) which may be compared with the Old English lārēow (teacher, master) and lǣċe (doctor, physician).  In the US the MD evolved into a professional doctorate and the title “Dr” thus followed yet among US lawyers, although many qualify with the analogous JD (Doctor of Jurisprudence), not only is it though bad form for such graduates to use the title “doctor”, professional associations actively discourage use although the legal basis of any attempt at enforcement may be dubious.  As a general principle, the only lawyers in the US styled as “Dr” are those with a doctorate in law (which may be a PhD, DPhil etc).

The Barber Surgeon (1524), engraving by Lucas van Leyden (1494–1533), The Met, New York.

In the great Medieval universities (Bologna, Paris etc), the three higher faculties were Theology, Law and Medicine, graduates of each receiving the degree of Doctor which meant one was a licensed teacher of their discipline.  Thus, a “Doctor of Medicine” was someone qualified to teach medicine at a university, not merely practice it.  In pre-modern medicine (often a gruesome business) there was also distinct social and educational difference between physician and surgeons, especially in England where things became institutionalized.  The physicians were university-trained, held an MD and thus correctly were styled “Dr” whereas the origins of the surgeons lay in the old trade of barber-surgeons; trained by apprenticeship, they did not hold degrees and were styled “Mr”.  In the pre-anaesthetic age, surgical techniques tended to be primitive, often involving cutting or sawing off body parts so for the barbers, skilled in the use of razors and scissors, it was a natural evolution.  This division was in England institutionalized by the formation of the RCP (Royal College of Physicians (1518)) and RCS (Royal College of Surgeons (1843)).

The surgeons had anyway been schematic, guilds existing in London as early as the 1360s and a demarcation dispute between the “surgeons” and “barber surgeons” dragged on until 1540 when a “coming-together” between the “Worshipful Company of Barbers” and the “Guild of Surgeons” was engineered, creating the “Company of Barbers and Surgeons of London”.  However, while papering over the cracks (perhaps “bandaging the wound” might work better), the tensions remained and in 1745 the surgeons departed to form “Company of Surgeons” a royal charter (as Royal College of Surgeons in London) granted in 1800, extended in 1843 to become the “Royal College of Surgeons of England”.  Through all that, even after the early nineteenth century when a university education was made a condition of a licence to practice as a surgeon, the tradition endured and doctors, upon qualifying as members or fellows of the RCS revert from Dr to Mr.  In that context, “Mr” really is not a courtesy title but a professional equivalent and the because of the long history, the field is littered with linguistic quirks, “physician” both a generic term for all qualified to practice medicine and a specialist in internal medicine.  One perhaps once unexpected twist in the history of the history of the barber surgeon is that to this day there appear to be people who get medical advice (or at least a “second opinion”) from their hairdresser, presumably on the basis they’re a proven good source for fashion tips, relationship counselling and such.

Three galleries at the Lindsay Lohan Retrospective by Richard Phillips (b 1962), Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.

Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  The curator explained the retrospective was conducted as an example of the way collaborative forms of image production can reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format used to render them realist portraits of "...the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  That seemed to explain things.

Vimeo's hosting of Lindsay Lohan, courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery.

Historically, the term “courtesy of” implied “something provided by its owner to another party without payment or other consideration” and that’s presumably the way Vimeo is using the phrase although it’s likely the file was provided with certain limitations of use (such as “may not be edited”).  However, although for generations used in that way by the print media, on the internet “courtesy of” appears often to be used as a synonym of “attributed to” in cases where explicit permission for use has being neither sought or granted.  Owners of the rights (which may include copyright) can of course seek to have such content “taken down” regardless of any baseless assertion the use is by their “courtesy” but because of the volumes, such actions are by necessity limited and were, for example, some nihilistic psychopath to use on their blog an image of a 1961 Jaguar from the company’s website to illustrate some arcane aspect of a word’s etymology, JLR (Jaguar Land Rover, the corporate identity since 2013 when JLR was created by Tata Motors) likely would neither notice nor care.

Lindsay Lohan (2011) by Richard Phillips, hosted by Vimeo by courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery.

Screened in conjunction with the 54^th international exhibition of the Venice Biennale (June 2011), Lindsay Lohan was a short film the director said represented a “new kind of portraiture.”  Filmed in Malibu, California, the piece was included in the Commercial Break series, presented by Venice’s Garage Center for Contemporary Culture and although the promotional notes indicated it would include footage of the ankle monitor she helped make famous, the device doesn't appear in the final cut.

Directed by: Richard Phillips & Taylor Steele
Director of Photography: Todd Heater
Costume Designer: Ellen Mirojnick
Creative Director: Dominic Sidhu
Art Director: Kyra Griffin
Editor: Haines Hall
Color mastering: Pascal Dangin for Boxmotion
Music: Tamaryn & Rex John Shelverton

A variant on the idea is when an owner provides something “as a courtesy” and there are neither rules nor conventions governing this aspect of use.  First appearing in version 1.1 (1982) of PC-DOS (1980-1995), the obscure file EXE2BIN.exe was a command-line utility (it appeared also in other DOS (disk operating system) forks) that could be used to convert .EXE (executable) files into .COM or BIN (binary executables) files.  In the manuals, Microsoft noted “EXE2BIN is included with MS-DOS as a courtesy to software developers. It is not useful for general users.”  So it was a thoughtful gesture but MS-DOS grew at a faster rate than the capacity of the floppy diskettes which were then the only generally available medium for software distribution.  So, needing space for the essential stuff, when in 1987 MS-DOS 3.3 was released, EXE2BIN was no longer included, relegated to the Technical Reference Pack (available at extra cost).  That didn’t mean the decision was a discourtesy, just that space was needed and it was almost certain anyone likely to use EXE2BIN for its intended purpose anyway purchased the pack.  By the time MS-DOS v6.00 was released in 1991, EXE2BIN was thus no longer described as “a courtesy” and was included on one of the “Supplemental Disks” (US$5.00), which were also part of the “Resource Kit” (US$19.95).

Quartervent

Quartervent (pronounced kwawr-ter-vent)

A small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) pane in the front or rear side-windows of a car, provided to optimize ventilation.

1930s: The construct was quarter + vent.  Dating from the late thirteenth century, the noun quarter (in its numerical sense) was from the Middle English quarter, from the Anglo-Norman quarter, from the Old French quartier, from the Latin quartarius (a Roman unit of liquid measure equivalent to about 0.14 litre).  Quartus was from the primitive Indo-European kweturtos (four) (from which the Ancient Greek gained τέταρτος (tétartos), the Sanskrit चतुर्थ (caturtha), the Proto-Balto-Slavic ketwirtas and the Proto-Germanic fedurþô).  It was cognate to quadrus (square), drawn from the sense of “four-sided”.  The Latin suffix –arius was from the earlier -ās-(i)jo- , the construct being -āso- (from the primitive Indo-European -ehso- (which may be compared with the Hittite appurtenance suffix -ašša-) + the relational adjectival suffix -yós (belonging to).  The suffix (the feminine –āria, the neuter -ārium) was a first/second-declension suffix used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  The nominative neuter form – ārium (when appended to nouns), formed derivative nouns denoting a “place where stuff was kept”.  The Middle English verb quarteren, was derivative of the noun.  Dating from the mid fourteenth century, vent was from the Middle English verb venten (to furnish (a vessel) with a vent), a shortened form of the Old French esventer (the construct being es- + -venter), a verbal derivative of vent, from the Latin ventus (wind), in later use derivative of the English noun.  The English noun was derived partly from the French vent, partly by a shortening of French évent (from the Old French esvent, a derivative of esventer) and partly from the English verb.  The hyphenated form quarter-vent is also used and may be preferable.  Quarter-vent is a noun; the noun plural is quarter-vents.  In use, the action of using the function provided by a quarter-vent obviously can be described with terms like quarter-venting or quarter-vented but no derived forms are recognized as standard.

1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz.

Like almost all US passenger cars, the post-war Cadillacs all had quarter-vents (“vent windows” or “ventiplanes” to the Americans) and on the most expensive in the range they were controlled by an electric motor, a feature optional on the lesser models.  This was a time when the company's slogan “Standard of the World” really could be taken seriously.  In 1969, with General Motors (GM) phasing in flow-through ventilation, Cadillac deleted the quarter-vents, meaning purchasers no longer had to decide whether to pay the additional cost to have them electrically-activated (a US$71.60 option on the 1968 Calais and De Ville).  GM's early implementation of flow-through ventilation was patchy so the change was probably premature but by 1969 the system was perfected and as good as their air-conditioning (A-C), famous since the 1950s for its icy blast.    

The now close to extinct quarter-vents were small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) panes of glass installed in the front or rear side windows of a car or truck; their purpose was to provide occupants with a source of ventilation, using the air-flow of the vehicle while in motion.  The system had all the attributes of other admirable technologies (such as the pencil) in that it was cheap to produce, simple to use, reliable and effective in its intended purpose.  Although not a complex concept, GM in 1932 couldn’t resist giving the things an impressively long name, calling them “No Draft Individually Controlled Ventilation” (NDICV being one of history’s less mnemonic initializations).  GM’s marketing types must have prevailed because eventually the snappier “ventiplanes” was adopted, the same process of rationality which overtook Chrysler in 1969 when the public decided “shaker” was a punchier name for their rather sexy scoop which, attached directly to the induction system and, protruding through a carefully shape lacuna in the hood (bonnet), shook with the engine, delighting the males aged 17-39 to whom it was intended to appeal.  “Shaker” supplanted Chrysler’s original “Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber” (IQECAG another dud); sometimes less is more.  Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) suggested a good title for his book might be Viereinhalb Jahre [des Kampfes] gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit (Four and a Half Years of Struggle against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice) but his publisher thought that a bit ponderous and preferred the more succinct Mein Kampf: Eine Abrechnung (My Struggle: A Reckoning) and for publication even that was clipped to Mein Kampf.  Unfortunately, the revised title was the best thing about it, the style and contents truly ghastly and it's long and repetitious, the ideas within able easily to be reduced to a few dozen pages (some suggest fewer but the historical examples cited for context do require some space).

The baroque meets mid-century modernism: 1954 Hudson Italia by Carrozzeria Touring.  

Given how well the things worked, there’s long been some regret at their demise, a process which began in the 1960s with the development of “through-flow ventilation”, the earliest implementation of which seems to have appeared in the Hudson Italia (1954-1955), an exclusive, two-door coupé co-developed by Hudson in Detroit and the Milan-based Italian coachbuilder Carrozzeria Touring.  Although some of the styling gimmicks perhaps haven’t aged well, the package was more restrained than some extravagances of the era and fundamentally, the lines were well-balanced and elegant.  Unfortunately the mechanical underpinnings were uninspiring and the trans-Atlantic production process (even though Italian unit-labor costs were lower than in the US, Touring’s methods were labor-intensive) involved two-way shipping (the platforms sent to Milan for bodies and then returned to the US) so the Italia was uncompetitively expensive: at a time when the bigger and more capable Cadillac Coupe de Ville listed at US$3,995, the Italia was offered for US$4,800 and while it certainly had exclusivity, it was a time when there was still a magic attached to the Cadillac name and of the planned run of 50, only 26 Italias were produced (including the prototype).  Of those, 21 are known still to exist and they’re a fixture at concours d’élégance (a sort of car show for the rich, the term an un-adapted borrowing from the French (literally “competition of elegance”) and the auction circuit where they’re exchanged between collectors for several hundred-thousand dollars per sale.  Although a commercial failure (and the Hudson name would soon disappear), the Italia does enjoy the footnote of being the first production car equipped with what came to be understood as “flow-through ventilation”, provided with a cowl air intake and extraction grooves at the top of the rear windows, the company claiming the air inside an Italia changed completely every ten minutes.  For the quarter-vent, flow-through ventilation was a death-knell although some lingered on until the effective standardization of A-C proved the final nail in the coffin.

1965 Ford Cortina GT with eyeball vents and quarter-vents.

The car which really legitimized flow-through ventilation was the first generation (1962-1966) of the Ford Cortina, produced over four generations (some claim it was five) by Ford’s UK subsidiary between 1962-1982).  When the revised model displayed at the Earls Court Motor Show in October 1964, something much emphasized was the new “Aeroflow”, Ford’s name for through-flow ventilation, the system implemented with “eyeball” vents on the dashboard and extractor vents on the rear pillars.  Eyeball vents probably are the best way to do through-flow ventilation but the accountants came to work out they were more expensive to install than the alternatives so less satisfactory devices came to be used.  Other manufacturers soon phased-in similar systems, many coining their own marketing trademarks including “Silent-Flow-Ventilation”, “Astro-Ventilation” and the inevitable “Flow-thru ventilation”.  For the Cortina, Ford took a “belt & braces” approach to ventilation, retaining the quarter-vents even after the “eyeballs” were added, apparently because (1) the costs of re-tooling to using a single pane for the window was actually higher than continuing to use the quarter-vents, (2) it wasn’t clear if there would be general public acceptance of their deletion and (3) smoking rates were still high and drivers were known to like being able to flick the ash out via the quarter-vent (and, more regrettably, the butts too).  Before long, the designers found a way economically to replace the quarter-vents with “quarter-panes” or “quarter-lights” (a fixed piece of glass with no opening mechanism) so early Cortinas were built with both although in markets where temperatures tended to be higher (notable South Africa and Australia), the hinged quarter-vents remained standard equipment.  When the Mark III Cortina (TC, 1970-1976) was released, the separate panes in any form were deleted and the side glass was a single pane.

Fluid dynamics in action: GM's Astro-Ventilation.

So logically a “quarter-vent” would describe a device with a hinge so it could be opened to provide ventilation while a “quarter-pane”, “quarter-light” or “quarter-glass” would be something in the same shape but unhinged and thus fixed.  It didn’t work out that way and the terms tended to be used interchangeably (though presumably “quarter-vent” was most applied to those with the functionality.  However, the mere existence of the fixed panes does raise the question of why they exist at all.  In the case or rear doors, they were sometimes a necessity because the shape of the door was dictated by the intrusion of the wheel arch and adding a quarter-pane was the only way to ensure the window could completely be wound down.  With the front doors, the economics were sometimes compelling, especially in cases when the opening vents were optional but there were also instances where the door’s internal mechanisms (the door opening & window-winding hardware) were so bulky the only way to make stuff was to reduce the size of the window.  In some cases, manufacturers "solved" the problem by making rear side glass fixed which lowered their costs but it was never popular with customers.

1976 Volkswagen Passat B1 (1973-1980 (1988 in Brazil)) without quarter-vents, the front & rear quarter-panes fixed.

The proliferation of terms could have come in handy if the industry had decided to standardize and the first generation Volkswagen Passat (1973-1980) was illustrative of how they might been used.  The early Passats were then unusual in that the four-door versions had five separate pieces of side glass and, reading from left-to-right, they could have been classified thus: (1) a front quarter-pane, (2) a front side-window, (3) a rear side-window, (4) a rear quarter-pane and (5) a quarter-window.  The Passat was one of those vehicles which used the quarter-panes as an engineering necessity to permit the rear side-window fully to be lowered.  However the industry didn’t standardize and in the pre-television (and certainly pre-internet) age when language tended to evolve with greater regional variation, not even quarter-glass, quarter-vent, quarter-window & quarter-pane were enough and the things were known variously also as a “fly window”, “valence window”, “triangle window” and (possibly annoying architects) “auto-transom”, the hyphen used and not.

1960 Bentley S2 Continental Flying Spur by H.J. Mulliner (Design 7508 with Van Gerbig rear quarter-windows, left), the "Van Gerbig" quarter-window (centre) and the Flying Spur's (Six Light) standard rear quarter pane (right).

In 1960, cars with rear quarter windows which pivoted open were not uncommon so it may seem strange such a fitting can attract comment.  However, much prized in the rarefied world of coach-built Rolls-Royces and Bentleys are the little quirks and oddities which can make the bespoke creations “even more unique” (a phrase which will annoy the grammar Nazis but in this context it’s handy verbal shorthand).  H.J. Mulliner bodied an estimated 125 Bentley S2 chassis with the Flying Spur four-door sports saloon coachwork (Design 7508 “Six Light” saloon) but only three were fitted with the “Van Gerbig-style pop-open rear quarter lights (following Design 6110)”.  Of the three “Van Gerbig Flying Spurs” two were built with LHD (left hand drive) and one was RHD (right hand drive).  The otherwise unexceptional quarter-vents gained the name from Peter Van Gerbig (b 1934), a New York socialite who specified the feature in a Flying Spur he ordered for US delivery.

PA Vauxhall Velox (1957-1962): 1959 (left) and 1960 (right).  The one-piece rear window was introduced as a running-change in late 1959.

Before flow-through ventilation systems and long before A-C became ubiquitous, quarter-vents were the industry standard for providing airflow to car interiors and it was common for them to be fitted on both front and rear-doors and frequently, the rear units were fixed quarter-panes (the lowering of the side window thing).  A special type of fixed quarter-pane were those used with rear windows, originally an economic imperative because initially it was too expensive to fabricate one piece glass to suit the “wrap-around styles becoming popular.  Improved manufacturing techniques let the US industry by the early 1950s overcome the limitations but elsewhere, the multi-piece fittings would continue to be used for more than a decade.

1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser (left), details of the apparatuses above the windscreen (centre) and the Breezeaway rear window lowered (right)

The 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser was notable for (1) the truly memorable model name, (2) introducing the “Breezeway" rear window which could be lowered and (3) having a truly bizarre arrangement of “features” above the windscreen.  Unfortunately, the pair of “radio aerials” protruding from the pods at the top of the Mercury’s A-pillars were a mere affectation, a “jet-age” motif decorating what were actually air-intakes.

Brochure for 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser promoting, inter-alia, the Breezeway retractable rear window.

A three-piece construction was however adopted as part of the engineering for the “Breezeway”, a retractable rear window introduced in 1957 on the Mercury Turnpike Cruiser.  It was at the time novel and generated a lot of publicity but the concept would have been familiar to those driving many roadsters and other convertibles which had “zip-out” rear Perspex screens, allowing soft-top to remain erected while the rear was open.  Combined with the car’s quarter-vents, what this did was create the same fluid dynamics as flow-through ventilation.  The way Mercury made the retractable glass work was to section the window in a centre flat section (some 80% of the total width), flanked by a pair of fixed quarter-panes.  After the run in 1957-1959, it was resurrected for use on certain Mercury Montclairs, Montereys and Park Lanes.

1958 (Lincoln) Continental Mark III Convertible (with Breezeway window).  The platform was unitary (ie no traditional chassis) which with modern techniques easily was achievable on the sedans and coupes but the convertible required so much additional strengthening (often achieved by welding-in angle iron) that a Mark III Convertible, fueled and with four occupants, weighed in excess of 6000 lb (2720 kg). 

Ford must have been much taken with the feature because it appeared also on the gargantuan “Mark” versions of the (Lincoln) Continentals 1958, 1959 & 1960, dubbed respectively Mark III, IV, & V, designations Ford shamelessly would begin to recycle in 1969 because the corporation wanted the new Mark III to be associated with the old, classic Continental Mark II (1956-1957) rather than the succeeding bloated trio.  The “Breezeway” Lincolns also featured a reverse-slanted rear window, something which would spread not only to the Mercurys of the 1960s but also the English Ford Anglia (105E, 1959-1968) and Consul Classic (1961-1963) although only the US cars ever had the retractable glass.  The severe roofline was used even on the convertible Continentals, made possible by them sharing the rear window mechanism used on the sedan & couple, modified only to the extent of being retractable into a rear compartment.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car with mini vents.

In the 1970s Lincoln introduced the novelty of “mini-vents” which raised and lowered separately from the main side-glass.  Smoking was at the time socially acceptable (in some circles it must have appeared obligatory) and there was a lot of it about so engineers devoting time to finding a better way for those wanting to “flick ash out the window” while running the A-C wasn’t surprising.  Those visualizing a “flick” in process might be surprised such a thing existed because if in a modern vehicle, its shape honed in wind-tunnels and computer simulations, what would likely happen would be “blowback”.  That’s because the shape is aerodynamically efficient (with a “buffer zone” very close to the surface) and disrupting that by lowering a window shifts the inside pressure from positive to negative, ask thus being “sucked-in”.  However, on something like a 1974 Lincoln Continental (which conceptually can be imagined as one brick sitting atop two), the buffer zone can (depending on speed) extend as as much as 3 feet (close to a metre) from the body.  The meant ash was flicked into the “buffer zone” and it didn’t end up back in the cabin.  The vents didn’t last (another casualty of the quest for lower drag) but as late as 1985 they appeared as a US$72 extra and were known in the industry as the “smoker's option”.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro 327 Convertible with vent windows (left), 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 without vent windows (centre) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) & Jamie Lee Curtis (b 1958) in 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Convertible during filming of the remake of Freaky Friday (2003), Los Angeles, August 2024.  Freakier Friday is slated for release in August, 2025).

Through Chevrolet's COPO (Central Office Production Order) system, 69 1969 Camaros were built with the ZL1, an all-aluminum version of the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) big-block V8.  The COPO had been established as an efficient way to coordinate the production of fleet orders (law enforcement agencies, utility companies etc) for runs of vehicles in a certain specification but the drag racing community and others worked out it could be used also as “back-door” way to order small runs of cars with otherwise unavailable high-performance engines.  The Freakier Friday Camaro (badged as a 396 SS but several were used during filming including at least one with a roll-over bar for the stunt work) lacks the vent windows which were deleted from the range after 1967 when “Astro-Ventilation” (GM’s name for flow-through ventilation) was added.  In North American use, the devices typically are referred to as “vent windows” while a “quarter light” is a small lamp mounted (in pairs) in the lower section of the front bodywork and a “quarter-vent” is some sort of (real or fake) vent installed somewhere on the quarter panels.  As flow-through ventilation became standardized and A-C installation rates rose, Detroit abandoned the quarter-vent which pleased industry because it eliminated both parts and labor, lowering the cost of production (the savings absorbed as profits rather than being passed to the customers).  On the small, cheap Ford Pinto (1971-1980), removing the feature saved a reported US$2.16 per unit but, being small and cheap, A-C rarely was ordered by Pinto buyers which was probably a good thing because, laboring under the 1970s burdens of emission controls, the weight of  impact-resistant bumper bars and often an automatic transmission a Pinto was lethargic enough with out adding power-sapping A-C compressor and plumbing.  Responding (after some years of high inflation) to dealer feedback about enquires from Pinto customers indicating a interest in the return of vents, Fords cost-accountants calculated the unit cost of the restoration would be some US$17.

1961 Maserati 3500 GTi with single (front) quarter-vent.

With the coming of flow-through ventilation and in increasing up-take of air conditioning, the US manufacturers welcomed being able to eliminate quarter-vents because it meant fewer parts, less material and some minutes of labor saved during assembly.  The process also worked the other way which resulted in some Maserati 3500 GTs (Tipo 101, 1957-1964) being a rare example of a car with front and rear quarter-vents fitted to the same door.  Between 1947-1956, Maserati had sold various versions of its A6 as road cars but, with a design based on the principles used in racing as well as many components from the competition department, none were ideally suited to volume (or even series) production.  Noting the success Ferrari was enjoying with the road-going variants of their 250 series sports cars, Maserati resolved to emulate the business model and developed a platform which was something of a “parts bin special”, components from many European manufacturers bought “off the shelf” as a way of lowering costs; in the usual manner of the low-volume Italian specialists in the post war-era, coachbuilders were asked to submit designs for the bodywork and ultimately, the contract was awarded to Carrozzeria Touring of Milan.  Like Ferrari, Maserati used a derivative of one of their racing engines and although the 3.5 litre (213 cubic inch) straight-6 neither looked or sounded as exotic as Ferrari’s charismatic V12s, it was a reliable, well-proven unit with power and torque characteristics better suited to a wide range of buyers (many of whom appreciated the ease with which the straight-6 could be serviced).  As a relic of its days in Formula One and sports car racing, Maserati did have a V12 but it was bulky and in output offered little more than the six, certainly for road use (Remarkably, the ancient V12, heavily revised, briefly would enjoy some success in 1966 when it was one of the few fully-developed engines available when the new 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) rules took effect in Formula One).

1962 Maserati 3500 GTi with front & rear quarter-vents.

Almost all the 3500 coupés were bodied by Touring using their patented Superleggera (super light) technique of construction, the method involving the fabrication of a structural framework of small diameter steel tubes that conformed to the body shape, this skeletal frame then covered by an aluminium outer skin.  The result was something both light and rigid. In the late 1950s, the 3500 GT was the right car for the time and was company’s first truly successful road car, the profits from the model for the first time putting things on a stable financial footing; almost 2000 coupés and some 250 Spyders (roadster), mostly by Carrozzeria Vignale, leaving the factory between 1957-1964 and the memorable, bespoke 5000 GTs (1959-1966) were developed on the same platform with Maserati 5.0 litre (301 cubic inch) (the original “big bore” units later replaced by “long stroke” versions better suited to road use).  In 1959-1962, the 5000 GT was probably the fastest car on sale but was so expensive only 32 were built.

1962 Maserati 3500 GTi; the quarter-vents were opened and closed using knurled, stainless steel knobs.

The 3500 GT was however a design of its time and although in some ways mechanically advanced, was in other aspects little different from the way things were done in the 1930s, including the cabin ventilation, the extent of the sophistication being the ability to wind down the windows (power windows were standard on all but the earliest models).  So, in a 3500, things could get hot and stuffy and, in late 1961, the first were built with air-flow augmented by second, rear-mounted quarter-vent.  What that did was emulate exactly the fluid dynamics of flow-thru ventilation and the reason it was done that way was simple economics: to add a pair of quarter-vents was simple and cheap whereas the addition of an integrated flow-thru ventilation system would be demanding of time and resources and thus expensive.  In one review, it was reported such an upgrade would cost more than three times the budget the factory allocated for the introduction of Lucas mechanical fuel-injection to replace the triple Weber carburetors.  The engineers did implicitly acknowledge the second quarter-vent was an unhappy, if necessary, compromise, all subsequent Maseratis including an integrated flow-thru system.  

Ford Australia’s early advertising copy for the XA Falcon range included publicity shots both with and without the optional quarter-vents (left) although all sedans & station wagons had the non-opening, rear quarter-panes, fitted so the side window completely could be lowered.  One quirk of the campaign was the first shot released (right) of the “hero model” of the range (the Falcon GT) had the driver’s side quarter-vent airbrushed out (how “Photoshop jobs” used to be done), presumably because it was thought to clutter a well-composed picture.  Unfortunately, the artist neglected to defenestrate the one on the passenger’s side.

Released in Australia in March 1972, Ford’s XA Falcon was the first in the lineage to include through-flow ventilation, the previously standard quarter-vent windows moved to the option list as RPO (Regular Production Option) 86.  Because Australia often is a hot place (and now getting hotter) and many Falcons were bought by rural customers, Ford expected a high take-up rate of RPO 86 (it was a time when A-C was expensive and rarely ordered) so the vent window hardware was stockpiled in anticipation.  However, the new flow-through ventilation system was effective and the option didn’t prove popular but with a warehouse full of the parts, they remained available on the subsequent XB (1973-1976) and XC (1976-1979) Falcons although the take-up rate never rose, less the 1% of each range so equipped and when the XD (1979-1983) was introduced, there was no such option and this continued on all subsequent Falcons until Ford ceased production in Australia in 2016, by which time A-C had long been standard equipment.

Great moments in tabloid journalism: Sydney's Sun-Herald, Sunday 25 June, 1972.  The Sun-Herald was then part of the Fairfax group, proving Rupert Murdoch (b 1931) can't be blamed for everything.

The infrequency with which RPO 86 was ordered has been little noted by history but on one car the fixtures did become a element which enabled a owner to claim the coveted “one-of-one” status.  In August 1973, near the end of the XA’s run, with no fanfare, Ford built about 250 Falcons with RPO 83, a bundle which included many of the parts intended for use on the stillborn GTHO Phase IV, cancelled (after four had been built) in 1972 after a tabloid newspaper generated one of the moral panics of which they're so fond, this time about the “160 mph super cars” it was claimed the local manufacturers were about to unleash and sell to males ages 17-25.  Actually, none of them were quite that fast but not often has the tabloid press been too troubled by facts and the fuss spooked the politicians (it's seldom difficult to render a "minister horrified").  Under pressure, Holden cancelled the LJ Torana V8, Ford the GTHO Phase IV and Chrysler reconfigured it's E55 Charger 340 as a luxury coupé, available only with an automatic transmission and no high-performance modifications.

The “quarter-vent XA RPO 83 GT”: 1973 Ford Falcon XA GT sedan (Body Identification: 54H; Model Code: 18238) in Calypso Green (code J) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Black Vinyl (Code B) with 351 4V V8 (Code T) and four-speed manual transmission (Code L).  It’s the only one produced with both RPO 83 (a (variably fitted) bundle of parts left-over from the aborted GTHO Phase IV project) and RPO 86 (front quarter-vent windows).  In the collector market they're referred to usually as “the RPO83 cars”.

So in 1973 Ford's warehouse still contained all the parts which were to be fitted to the GTHO Phase IV so they’d be homologated for competition and although the rules for racing had been changed to ensure there was no longer any need to produce small batches of “160 mph [257 km/h] super cars”, Ford still wanted to be able to use the heavy-duty bits and pieces in competition so quietly conjured up RPO 83 and fitted the bundle on the assembly line, most of the cars not earmarked for allocation to racing teams sold as “standard” Falcon GTs.  Actually, it’s more correct to say “bundles” because while in aggregate the number of the parts installed was sufficient to fulfil the demands of homologation, not all the RPO 83 GTs received all parts so what a buyer got really was “luck of the draw”; with nobody being charged extra for RPO 83, Ford didn’t pay too much attention to the details of the installations and many who purchased one had no idea the parts had been included, the manual choke's knob the only visually obvious clue.  Ford made no attempt to publicize the existence of RPO 83, lest the tabloids run another headline.  It’s certain 250 RPO 83 cars were built (130 four-door sedans & 120 two-door Hardtops) but some sources say the breakdown was 131 / 121 while others claim an addition nine sedans were completed.  Being a genuine RPO 83 car, the Calypso Green GT attracts a premium and while being only RPO 83 with quarter-vent windows is not of any great significance, it does permit the prized “one-of-one” claim and not even any of the four GTHO Phase IVs built (three of which survive) had them.  In the collector market, the “one-of-one” status can be worth a lot of money (such as a one-off convertible in a run of coupés) but a Falcon’s quarter-vents are only a curiosity.

The Bathurst 1000 winning RPO 83 Falcon GTs, 1973 (left) & 1974 (right).

All else being equal, what makes one RPO83 more desirable than another is if it was factory-fitted with all the option's notional inventory and most coveted are the ones with four-wheel disk brakes.  Because the project was focused on the annual endurance event at Bathurst's high-speed Mount Panorama circuit, the disks were as significant as an additional 50 horsepower and a few weeks before the RPO 83 run they'd already been fitted to the first batch of Landaus, which were Falcon Hardtops gorped-up (what bling used to be called) with hidden headlights, lashings of leather, faux woodgrain and a padded vinyl roof, all markers of distinction in the 1970s; unusually, there was also a 24 hour analogue clock.  Essentially a short wheelbase, two-door LTD (which structurally was a Falcon with the wheelbase stretched 10 inches (250 mm) to 121 (3075 mm)), the Landau was not intended for racetracks but because it shared a body shell and much of the running gear with the Falcon GT Hardtops, Ford claimed Landau production counted towards homologation of the rear disks.  Fearing that might be at least a moot point, a batch were installed also on some of the RPO 83 cars and duly the configuration appeared at Bathurst for the 1973 event, their presence of even greater significance because that was the year the country switched from using imperial measures to metric, prompting the race organizers to lengthen the race from 500 miles (804 km) to 625 (1000), the Bathurst 500 thus becoming the Bathurst 1000.  RPO 83 Falcon GTs won the 1973 & 1974 Bathurst 1000s.

The “quarter-vent XB GT”: 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT sedan (Body Identification: 54H; Model Code: 18338) in Polar White (Code 3) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Parchment Vinyl (Code P) with 351C 4V V8 (Code T) and four-speed manual transmission (Code L).  This is the only XB GT ordered with RPO 86 (front quarter-vent windows).

So with a large stock sitting in the warehouse, despite the dismally low take-up rate, the quarter-vents remained available when the XB Falcon (1973-1976) range was released and of the 1952 XB GT sedans sold (there were also 949 two-door Hardtops) a single buyer ticked the RPO 86 box.  Again, while granting the coveted “one-of-one” status, it’s not something of great significance although the car to which the pair of vents was fitted is one of the more desirable XB GTs because it was one of the 139 XB GTs built with the combination of the “4V Big Port” 351 V8 and four-speed Top Loader manual transmission.  The first 211 XB GTs received the fully-imported 351 4V Clevelands, “using up” what was in stock, subsequent models switching to the locally made variant.

US Built 351C-4V in 1973 XB Falcon GT.

Ford Australia had been importing from the US the high-performance 351C-4V V8 for use in the GT but when advised US production of that configuration was ending, the decision was taken to produce a local “high-performance” version of the 351 using the 351C 2V “small port” cylinder heads with “open” combustion chambers and a four-barrel carburetor; Ford Australia only ever manufactured the “small port” heads.  That means the Australian nomenclature “351C-4V” (small ports & four barrel carburetor) differs in meaning from that used in the US where it translated to “big ports & four barrel carburetor”.  It sounded a retrogressive step and while there was some sacrifice in top-end power, the antipodean combo turned out to be ideal for street use because the fluid dynamics of the flow rate through the smaller ports made for better low and mid-range torque (most useful for what most drivers do most of the time) whereas the big-port heads really were optimized for full-throttle operation, something often done on race tracks but rarely on public roads… even in the Australia of the early 1970s.  Still, some did miss the responsiveness of the high-compression US-built engine, even if the difference was really apparent only above 80 mph (130 km/h).  Ford's "2V" & "4V" nomenclature came to mislead some because the terms later were adopted to differentiate between cylinder heads using two (intake) and four (exhaust) valve configurations in the cylinder head(s).  Why Ford decided to use "venturi" rather than the more usual "barrel", "throat" or "choke" doesn't seem to be documented but it must at the time have seemed a good idea.  Ford Australia's hybrid interpretation of the Cleveland (the 2V heads & 4V carburetor combo) must have baffled the Americans which only ever assembled their 351s in matching form.      

The other ceremony that happened in Australia on 11 November, 1975: Ford Australia's photo shoot, Melbourne, Victoria.

Although only 2,901 XB GTs were produced, as the “halo” model it was an important image-maker and the XB range proved successful with almost 212,000 sold over its 34 month life (over 18 months in a generally more buoyant economy XA production had reached over 129,000).  Stylistically, the XB was an improvement over the poorly detailed XA and much was made (among Ford's claimed 2,056 changes from the XA) of the headlight’s high-beam activation shifting from a foot-operated button to a steering column stalk which, thirty-odd years on from the achievement of nuclear fission, doesn’t sound like much but motoring journalists had for years been advocating for “a headlight flasher”, having been impressed by the “safety feature” when being “flashed” on the German Autobahns by something about to pass at high speed.  More welcome still were the GT’s four-wheel disk brakes, acknowledged as good as any then in volume production.  The success of the XB coincided with Ford Australia’s two millionth vehicle leaving the assembly line so on Tuesday 11 November, 1975, Ford’s public relations office invited journalists and camera crews to a ceremony to mark the occasion, laying on the usual catering (including free cigarettes!) to ensure a good attendance.

Ford Australia pre-release publicity shot for the XB range release (embargoed until 15 September 1973).

1973 Ford Falcon XB GT Hardtop (Body Identification: 65H; Model Code: 18318) in Yellow Blaze (Code M) with Onyx Black (code B) accents over Black Vinyl (Code B) with 351C 4V V8 (Code T) and three-speed T-Bar automatic transmission (Code B).  Because the various side windows used by the Hardtop, Ute and Panel Van derivatives were different to fit the door and roof shapes, the quarter-vents were never offered on those and RPO 86 on the Hardtops was the dreaded vinyl roof in tan.  The sunroof (RPO 10) was a rarely (168 Falcons and 244 Fairmonts) specified option.

Unfortunately, the pictures of the dutifully polished XB Fairmont (a Falcon with some gorp) sedan didn’t generate the publicity expected because the next editions of the daily newspapers (there were then a lot of those and they sold in big numbers) had a more sensational story to cover: On that Tuesday, Sir John Kerr (1914–1991; governor-general of Australia 1974-1977) had dismissed from office Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; prime minister of Australia 1972-1975) and his troubled administration.  It was the first time the Crown had sacked a prime-minister since William IV (1765–1837; King of the UK 1830-1837) in 1834 dismissed Lord Melbourne (1779–1848; prime minister of the UK 1834 & 1835-1841) and although in 1932 Sir Philip Game (1876–1961; governor of NSW 1930-1935) had sundered the commission of Jack Lang (1876–1975; premier of New South Wales 1925-1927 & 1930-1932), the few Australians who pondered such things believed the days of meddling viceroys were done.  Sir John however proved the royal prerogative still existed (although paradoxically perhaps now only in the hands of a monarch’s representative rather than their own) and a certain XB Fairmont making a footnote in the history of Australian manufacturing passed almost unnoticed.