Heptadecaphobia

Heptadecaphobia (pronounced hepp-tah-dech-ah-foh-bee-uh)

Fear of the number 17.

1700s: The construct was the Ancient Greek δεκαεπτά (dekaepta) (seventeen) + φόβος (phobos).  The alternative form is septadecaphobia, troubling some the purists because they regard it as a Greek-Latin mongrel, the construct being the Latin septem (seven) + deca, from the Latin decas (ten), from the Ancient Greek δεκάς (dekás) (ten) + the Ancient Greek φόβος) (phobos) (fear).  Heptadecaphobia deconstructs as hepta- “seven” + deca (ten) + phobos.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  Heptadecaphobia, heptadecaphobist, heptadecaphobism, heptadecaphobiac and heptadecaphobe are nouns, heptadecaphobic is a noun & adjective and heptadecaphobically is an adverb; the common (sic) noun plural is heptadecaphobes and they should number 59 million-odd (the population of Italy).

Morphologically, “heptadecaphilliac” is possible but is clumsy and unnecessary, the standard noun agent (-phile) rendering it redundant and although used, not all approve of the suffix -phobiac because it’s a later hybrid formation from modern English and thus judged “less elegant”.  The opposite condition (a great fondness for 17) is the noun heptadecaphilia, those with the condition being Heptadecaphiles, the derived words following the conventions used with heptadecaphobia.  Whether any of the derived forms have much (or ever) been used beyond lists asserting they exist (which, except as abstractions, may be dubious) is unlikely but concerned Italians should note the noun heptadecaphobist would seem to imply doctrinal adherence rather than suffering the fear.  Still, it’s there if the need exists for precision in one’s behavioural descriptors.  Modern English constructions (like heptadecaphobia) built from Greek morphemes are neo-classical” compounds rather than a “proper” words from the Ancient Greek and while some amuse or appal the classicists, in practice, variations in suffix-use have long be tolerated.

No fear of 17: Sydney Sweeney (b 1997) in photo-shoot for Frankies Bikini Collection, Seventeen magazine, March 2023.

In Classical Greek, the cardinal number 17 was ἑπτακαίδεκα (heptakaídeka; literally “seven-and-ten”) but the Ancients were as adept as us at clipping for convenience and the variant ἑπταδέκα (heptadéka; literally “seven-ten”) also exists in surviving texts.  The shorter element embedded in heptadecaphobia corresponds to heptadeca- (from ἑπταδέκα) and genuinely that is Classical Greek, although, on the basis of the count from what documents are extant, it was less common than ἑπτακαίδεκα. The latter-day hybridization was inevitable because, as far as in known, “seventeen” had not before been used as a combining stem in compounds.  In English, the convention in neoclassical formation tends the sequence: (1) take the cardinal form, (2) drop the inflection and (3) treat it as a stem, thus the construct heptadeca + phobia, familiar to structuralists in the more common triskaidekaphobia which uses the Greek tris-kai-deka (“three and ten”) despite in genuine Greek morphology, compounds being not usually directly from ἑπταδέκα as a bound stem.  It’s better to follow modern practice rather than try to conjure something “classically pure” because although one could argue heptakaidekaphobia (closer to ἑπτακαίδεκα) is a better tribute to Antiquity, as well as being historically unattested, it’s phonetically cumbersome which seems a worse linguistic sin.

Just because a “fear of a number” is listed somewhere as a “phobia” doesn’t mean the condition has much of a clinical history or even that a single case is to be found in the literature; many may have been coined just for linguistic fun and students in classics departments have been set assessment questions like “In Greek, construct the word meaning “fear of the number 71” (the correct answer being “hebdomekontahenophobia”).  Some are well documented such as tetraphobia (fear of 4) which is so prevalent in East Asia it compelled BMW to revise the release strategy of the “4 Series” cars and triskaidekaphobia (fear of 13) which has such a history in the West it’s common still for hotels not to have a 13^th floor or rooms which include “13”, something which in the pre-digital age was a charming quirk but when things were computerized added a needless complication.  The use of the actual number is important because in such a hotel the “14^th” floor is (in the architectural sense) of course the 13^th but there’s little to suggest there’s ever been resistance from guests being allocated room 1414.

Some number phobias are quite specific: Rooted in the folklore of Australian cricket is a supposed association of the number 87 with something bad (typically a batter (DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) means they're no longer "batsmen") being dismissed) although it seems purely anecdotal and more than one statistical analysis (cricket is all about numbers) has concluded there's nothing “of statistical significance” to be found and there’s little to suggest players take the matter seriously.  One English umpire famously had “a routine” associated with the score reaching a “repunit” (a portmanteau (or blended) word, the construct being re(eated) +‎ unit) (eg 111, 222, 333 etc) but that was more fetish than phobia.

No fear of 17: Lindsay Lohan appeared on the covers of a number of issues of Seventeen magazine.  Targeted at the female market (age rage 12-18), the US edition of Seventeen is now predominately an on-line publication, printed only as irregular "special, stand-alone issues" but a number of editions in India and the Far East continue in the traditional format. 

Other illustrative number phobias include oudenophobia (fear of 0), (trypophobia (fear of holes) said to sometimes be the companion condition), henophobia (fear of 1) (which compels sufferer to avoid being associated with “doing something once”, being the “first in the group” etc), heptaphobia (fear of 7) (cross-culturally, a number also with many positive associations), eikosiheptaphobia (fear of 27) (a pop-culture thing which arose in the early 1970s when a number of rock stars, at 27, died messy, drug-related deaths), tessarakontadyophobia (fear of 42) (which may have spiked in patients after the publication of Douglas Adams’ (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992), enenekontenneaphobia (fear of 99) (thought not related to the Get Smart TV series of the 1960s), tetrakosioeikosiphobia (fear of 420) (the syndrome once restricted to weed-smokers in the US but long internationalized), the well-documented hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia (fear of 666), heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphobia (fear of 747) (though with the withdrawal from passenger service of the tough, reliable (four engines and made of metal) Boeing 747 and its replacement with twin-engined machines made increasingly with composites and packed with lithium-ion batteries, a more common fear may be “not flying on a 747”, most common among heftakosioitessarakontaheptaphiles).  Enniakosioihendecaphobia (fear of 911) was, in the US, probably a co-morbidity with tetrakosioeikosiphobia but it may also have afflicted also those with a bad experience of a pre-modern Porsche 911 (1963-) which, in inexpert hands, could behave as one would expect of a very powerful Volkswagen Beetle, the most acute cases manifesting as triskaidekaphobia (fear of 930, that number being the internal designation for the original 911 Turbo (1974-1989), the fastest of the breed, soon dubbed the "widow-maker").

Nongentiseptuagintatrestrillionsescentiquinquagintanovemmiliacentumtredecimdeciesoctingentivigintiquattuormiliatrecentiphobia (fear of 973,659,113,824,315) describes a the definitely rare condition and it's assumed that was word was coined by someone determined to prove it could be done. There’s also compustitusnumerophobia (fear of composite numbers), meganumerophobia (fear of large numbers), imparnumerophobia (fear of odd numbers), omalonumerophobia (fear of even numbers), piphobia (fear of pi), phiphobia (fear of the golden ratio), primonumerophobia (fear of prime numbers), paranumerophobia (fear of irrational numbers), neganumerophobia (fear of negative numbers) and decadisophobia (fear of decimals).  All such types are unrelated to arithmophobia (or numerophobia) which is the "fear of numbers, calculations & math", a syndrome common among students who "just don't get it" and there are many because those "good at math" and those not really are two separate populations; it's rare to be able to transform the latter into the former, a better solution being to send them to law school where many flourish, needing to master the arithmetic only of billing their time in six-minute increments (1/10th of an hour).  Having ten fingers and thumbs, most manage the calculations.  The marvellous Wiki Fandom site and The Phobia List are among the internet’s best curated collection of phobias.

The only one which debatably can’t exist is neonumerophobia (fear of new numbers) because, given the nature of infinity, there can be no “new numbers” although, subjectively, a number could be “new” to an individual so there may be a need.  Sceptical though mathematicians are likely to be, the notion of the “new number” ("zero" debatably the last) has (in various ways) been explored in fiction including by science fiction (SF or SciFi) author & engineer Robert A Heinlein (1907–1988) in The Number of the Beast (1980), written during his “later period”.  More challenging was Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by English schoolmaster & Anglican priest Edwin Abbott (1838–1926) which was published under the pseudonym “A Square”, the layer of irony in that choice revealed as the protagonist begins to explore dimensions beyond his two-dimensional world (in Victorian England).  Feminists note also Ursula K Le Guin’s (1929–2018) The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) in which was created an entirely new numerical system of “genderless" numbers”.  That would induce fear in a few.

Lindsay Lohan's cover of the song Edge of Seventeen appeared on the album A Little More Personal (2005).  Written by Stevie Nicks (b 1948), it appeared originally on her debut solo studio album Bella Donna (1981).

In entymology, there are insects with no fear of the number 17.  In the US, the so-called “periodical cicadas” (like those of the genus Magicicada) exist in a 17 year life cycle, something thought to confer a number of evolutionary advantages, all tied directly to the unique timing of their mass emergence: (1) The predator satiation strategy: The creatures emerge in massive numbers (in the billions), their sheer volume meaning it’s physically impossible for predators (both small mammals & birds) to eat enough of them to threaten the survival of the species. (2) Prime number cycles: Insects are presumed unaware of the nature of prime numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13 (also a prime) year cycle.  The 13 (Brood XIX) & 17-year (Brood X) periodic cicadas do sometimes emerge in the same season but, being prime numbers, it’s a rare event, the numbers' LCM (least common multiple) being 221 years; the last time the two cicadas emerged together was in 1868 and the next such event is thus expected in 2089.  The infrequency in overlap helps maintain the effectiveness of the predator avoidance strategies, the predators typically having shorter (2-year, 5-year etc) cycles which don’t synchronize with the cicadas' emergence, reducing chances a predator will evolve to specialize in feeding on periodical cicadas. (3) Avoidance of Climate Variability: By remaining underground for 17 years, historically, periodical cicadas avoided frequent climate changes or short-term ecological disasters like droughts or forest fires. The long underground nymph stage also allows them to feed consistently over many years and emerge when the environment is more favorable for reproduction.  Etymologists and biological statisticians are modelling scenarios under which various types of accelerated climate change are being studied to try to understand how the periodic cicadas (which evolved under “natural” climate change) may be affected. (4) Genetic Isolation: Historically, the unusually extended period between emergences has isolated different broods of cicadas, reducing interbreeding and promoting genetic diversity over time, helping to maintain healthy populations over multiple life-cycles.

No 17^th row: Alitalia B747-243B I-DEMP, Johannesburg International Airport, South Africa, 2001.

There are a variety of theories to account for the Italian superstition which had rendered 17 the national “unlucky number” but it does seem to be due primarily to a linguistic and symbolic association from ancient Rome.  The most accepted explanation is that in Roman numerals 17 is XVII which, anagrammatically, translates to VIXI (Latin for “I have lived” (the first-person singular perfect active indicative of vīvō (to live; to be alive)), understood in the vernacular as “my life is over” or, more brutally: “I am dead”.  It was something which appeared often on Roman tombstones, making an enduring record which ensured the superstition didn’t have to rely on collective memory or an oral tradition for inter-generational transfer.  That would have been ominous enough but Romans noted also that Osiris, the Egyptian god of, inter alia, life, death, the afterlife and resurrection, had died on the 17^th day of the month, 17 thus obviously a “death number” to the logical Roman mind and the worst 17^th days of the month were those which coincided with a full moon.  The cosmic coincidence was an intensifier in the same sense that in the English-speaking world the conjunction leading to a Friday falling on the 13^th makes the day seem threatening.  Thus, just as in some places hotels have neither 13^th floor or rooms containing “13”, in Italy it’s “17” which is avoided although not having a row 17 in its airliners didn’t save Alitalia (Società Aerea Italiana, the now-defunct national carrier) from its COVID-era demise.  Of course not labelling a row or floor “13” or “17” doesn’t mean a 13^th or 17^th something doesn’t exist, just that it’s called “14” or “18” so it’s the symbolic association which matters, not the physical reality.  Mashing up the numerical superstitions, that 17 is an “unlucky number” shouldn’t be surprising because it’s the sum of 13 + 4, the latter being the most dreaded number in much of East Asia, based on the pronunciation resembling “death” in both Chinese and Japanese.

In automotive manufacturing, there was nothing unusual about unique models being produced for the Italian domestic market, the most common trick being versions with engines displacing less than 2.0 litres to take advantage of the substantially lower tax regime imposed below that mark.  Thus Ferrari (1975-1981) and Lamborghini (1974-1977) made available 2.0 litre V8s (sold in RoW (rest of the world) markets variously in 2.5 & 3.0 litre displacements), Maserati a 2.0 V6 (usually a 3.0 in the Maserati Merak (1972-1983) although it appeared in 2.7 & 3.0 litre form in the intriguing but doomed Citroën SM (1970-1975)) and Mercedes-Benz created a number of one-off 2.0 litre models in the W124 range (1974-1977) exclusive to the Italian domestic market (although an unrelated series of 2.0 litre cars was also sold in India).  Others followed the trend although, the more expensive they were, the less appeal seemed to exist despite, in absolute terms, the saving increasing as the price rose.  Maserati offered a twin-turbo 2.0 in the aptly named BiTurbo, BMW did a one off 320is and Alfa Romeo produced a run of 2.0 V6s.

Lindsay Lohan, aged 17, Teen Choice Awards, Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, California, 2 August 2003.

From an engineering point of view, most audacious doubtlessly was the 2.0 litre version of TVR's V8S (1991-1994).  Supplied usually with a 4.0 litre version of the versatile Rover V8, the capacity of the version for the Italian market was halved by de-stroking, the bore of 88.9 and stroke of 40.25 mm creating an outrageously oversquare bore/stroke ratio of 45.28 but, with the assistance of a supercharger, the quirky engine almost matched in power and torque the naturally aspirated original with twice the displacement; It was a classic example of the effectiveness of forced-aspiration although it did demand of drivers a different technique.  By comparison, the Formula One BRM H16’s (1966-1967) bore & stroke was 69.8 x 49.9 mm and it was so oversquare to reduce the frictional losses which would have been induced had a longer stroke been used with that many cylinders; its bore/stroke ration was 71.48 compared with the almost square BRM V16 designed in the 1940s, the latter able to be in that configuration because (1) it was supercharged and (2) being only 1.5 litres, the stroke was anyway physically short in absolute terms.  The 2.4 litre V8s used in Formula One between 2006-2013 had to have a maximum bore of 98 and stroke of 40 mm (bore/stroke ratio 40.81) and that’s an indication of the characteristics the 2.0 litre TVR V8S offered.  Disappointingly, it was an experience few Italians sought and only seven were built.

It was Suzuki which had more success with work-arounds to Rome’s tiresome regulations.  Their two-stroke, triple cylinder GT380 (1972-1980) motorcycle was for most of its existence made with an actual displacement of 371 cm³ but in 1975, the Italian government passed a law banning the importation of motor-cycles under 380 cm³ and weighing less than 170 kg.  Accordingly, the Japanese produced a “big bore” 380 exclusively for the Italian market displacing an actual 384 cm³.  The portly triple would never have run afoul of the weight limit but just to avoid any unpleasantness, the data plate riveted to the frame recorded a verified mass of 171 kg.  Honor apparently satisfied on both sides, the GT380 remained available in some places until 1980, outliving the Suzuki’s other two-strokes triples by three seasons.

US advertisement for the Renault 17 (1974), the name Gordini adopted as a "re-brand" of the top-of-the-range 17TS,  Gordini was a French sports car producer and tuning house, absorbed by Renault in 1968, the name from time-to-time used for high-performance variants of various Renault models.

One special change for the Italian market was a nod to the national heptadecaphobia, the car known in the rest of the world (RoW) as the Renault 17 (1971-1979) sold in Italy as the R177.  For the 17, Renault took the approach which had delivered great profits: use the underpinnings of mundane mass-produced family cars with a sexy new body draped atop.  Thus in the US the Ford Falcon (1959-1969) begat the Mustang (1964-) and in Europe Ford made the Capri (1968-1976) from the Cortina (1962-1982).  Opel’s swoopy GT (1968-1973) was (most improbably) underneath just the modest Kadett.  It wasn’t only the mass-market operators which used the technique because in the mid 1950s, Mercedes-Benz understood the appeal of the style of the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1957) was limited by the high price which was a product of the exotic engineering (the space-frame, gullwing doors, dry sump and the then novel MFI (mechanical fuel-injection)), the solution being to re-purpose the platform of the W120, the small, austere sedan which helped the company restore its fortunes in the post-war years before the Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) was celebrated in 1959 with the exuberance of the Heckflosse (tailfin) cars (1959-1968).  On the W120 platform was built the 190 SL (W121, 1955-1963), an elegant (it not especially rapid) little roadster which quickly became a trans-Atlantic favourite, particularly among what used to be called the “women’s market”.

Only in Italy: The Renault 177, exclusively for heptadecaphobes.

Using the same formula, the Renault 17 was built on the underpinnings of the Renault 12, a remarkably durable platform, introduced in 1969 and, in one form or another, manufactured or assembled in more than a dozen countries, the last not produced until 2006.  Like the Anglo-German Ford Capri, the 17 was relatively cheap to develop because so much was merely re-purposed but for a variety of reasons, it never managed to come close to match the sales of the wildly successful Ford, FWD (front wheel drive) not then accepted as something “sporty” and Renault's implementation on the 17 was never adaptable to the new understanding of the concept validated by FWD machines such as Volkswagen’s Golf GTi which would define the “hot hatch”.  Like most of the world, the Italians never warmed to the 17 but presumably the reception would have been even more muted had not, in deference to the national superstition about the number 17, the name been changed to “Renault 177”, the cheaper companion model continuing to use the RoW label: Renault 15.

Peculiar

Peculiar (pronounced pi-kyool-yer)

(1) Something thought strange, queer, odd, eccentric, bizarre.

(2) Something uncommon or unusual.

(3) Distinctive in nature or character from others.

(4) Belonging characteristically to something.

(5) Belonging exclusively to some person, group, or thing.

(6) In astronomy, designating a star or galaxy with special properties that deviates from others of its spectral type or galaxy class.

(7) A property or privilege belonging exclusively or characteristically to a person.

(8) In the Church of England, a particular parish or church that is exempted from the jurisdiction of the ordinary or bishop in whose diocese it lies and is governed by another.

(9) In printing and typesetting, special characters not generally included in standard type fonts, as phonetic symbols, mathematical symbols etc (such as ±§¿).  Also called arbitraries.

1400-1450: From the late Middle English, from the Old French peculiaire and directly from the Latin pecūliāris (as one's own property), from pecūlium (private property (literally "property in cattle") a derivative of pecū (flock, farm animals) from pecus (cattle) (in Antiquity, the ownership of cattle was an important form of wealth).  The meaning “unusual” dates from circa 1600, a development of the earlier idiom “distinguished or special”.  The meaning "unusual, uncommon; odd" emerged by circa 1600, an evolution from the earlier "distinguished, special, particular, select" which was in use by at least the 1580s.  The euphemistic phrase "peculiar institution" (slavery; "peculiar" used here in the sense of "exclusive to the "slave states") dates from the 1830s when it was used in speeches by Southern politician John C Calhoun (1782-1850) and it was a standard part of the US political lexicon until abolition.  In ecclesiastical administration, peculiar was used in the sense of "distinct from the auspices of the diocese in which it's located".  Peculiar is a noun & adjective, peculiarize is a verb, peculiarity is a noun and peculiarly is an adverb; the noun plural is peculiars.

Photographers will use the natural environment to produce peculiar effects which can be striking: This is Lindsay Lohan straked by sunlight & shadow from a photo session by Ellen Von Unwerth (b 1954) for Vogue Italia, August 2010.  The caption “Ho fatto terribili sbagli dai quali però ho imparato molto.  Probabilmente per questo sono ancora viva” translates from the Italian as “I've made terrible mistakes, but I've learned a lot from them.  That's probably why I'm still alive.”

In the Church of England, a peculiar is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church which operates outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which they are situated. Most are Royal Peculiars subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch but some are those under another archbishop, bishop or dean.  The arrangement originated in Anglo-Saxon times and developed as a result of the relationship between the Norman and Plantagenet Kings and the English Church. King Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) retained Royal Peculiars following the Reformation and the Ecclesiastical Licences Act (1533), as confirmed by the Act of Supremacy (1559), transferred to the sovereign the jurisdiction which previously been exercised by the pope.  Surprisingly, most peculiars survived the Reformation but, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, almost all were abolished during the nineteenth century by various acts of parliament.  Mostly harmless among Anglicans, the concept existed also in the Roman-Catholic Church where it caused a few difficulties, usually because of bolshie nuns in convents answerable to Rome and not the local bishop.  The bishops, used to obedience, even if grudging, enjoyed this not at all.

One archaic-sounding peculiarity in the sometimes intersecting world of geopolitics and diplomatic conventions is that on the Chrysanthemum Throne sits an emperor yet there is no Japanese empire.  Actually, despite the institution having a history stretching back millennia, no empires remain extant and some of the more recent (such as the Central African Empire (1976-1979)) have been dubious constructions.  Despite that, the Japanese head of state remains an emperor which seems strange but the reasons the title has endured are historical, linguistic & diplomatic.  The Japanese sovereign’s native title is 天皇 (Tennō (literally “Heavenly Sovereign” and best understood in the oft-used twentieth century phrase “Son of Heaven”).  When, in the mid 1800s, the Western powers first began their engagement with Japan, the diplomatic protocol specialists soon worked out there was in their languages no exact term which exactly encapsulated Tennō and because “king” historically was lower in status than “emperor”, that couldn’t be used because, the Japanese court regarding itself as equal to (in reality probably “superior to”) the ruling house in China, it would have implied a loss of face.  So, on the basis of the precedent of the Chinese 皇帝 (huángdì (Emperor), Tennō entered English (and other European languages) translated as “emperor”.  This solved most potential problems by placing the Japanese sovereign on the same level as the Chinese Emperor & Russian Tsar.

Cars of the Chrysanthemum Throne: Emperor Akihito (b 1933; Emperor of Japan 1989-2019) waving while leaving Tokyo's Imperial Palace in 2006 Toyota Century (left) and the 2019 Toyota Century four-door parade cabriolet (right).  Although in the West, Toyota in 1989 created the Lexus brand for the upper middle class (and hopefully above), the royal household has for years been supplied with Toyotas, some of them with bespoke coachwork and interior appointments although mechanical components come from the Toyota/Lexus parts bin.  The four-door cabriolet replaced a 1990 Rolls-Royce Corniche DHC (drophead coupé) which, having only two doors made less easy an elegant ingress or egress.

As things turned out, the linguistic pragmatism turned out to be predictive because during the Meiji period (1868-1912), Japan emerged as a modern imperial power, with colonies in Taiwan, Korea and other places.  After World War II (1939-1945), the empire was dissolved but the imperial institution was retained, a fudge the Allied powers tacitly had conceded as an alternative to insisting on the “unconditional surrender” the Potsdam Declaration (26 July, 1945) had demanded.  Tennō thus remained the head of state’s title and in English it has continued to be rendered as “Emperor”, a nod more to historical continuity than diplomatic courtesy.  In a practical sense, this represented no obvious challenge because being styled “The Emperor” was geographically vague, unlike the king in the UK who obviously ceased to be called “Emperor of India” after the Raj was dissolved with the granting of Indian independence in 1947.  The peculiar anomaly of an emperor without an empire remains peculiar to Japan.

Peculiar has a range of meanings.  One is the sense of something “uniquely peculiar to” meaning an attribute or something else shared with no other and sometimes things one thought peculiar to one thing or another are proved not so unique.  Saturn’s lovely rings were once thought peculiar to that planet but exploration and advances in observational technology meant that by the late twentieth century it could be revealed Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune all had ring systems, albeit more modest than those of Saturn but they were there.  Non-realistic art has often for its impact depended on a depiction of the peculiar: blue trees, flying dogs and green people once all enough to shock.  This too can change.  Once, a painting of a black swan would have seemed peculiar because, as the Roman saying went rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno (a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan).  The accepted fact was that all swans were white.  However, late in the seventeenth century, Dutch explorers visiting what is now the coast of Western Australia became the first Europeans to see black swans and event subsequently picked up in philosophy as the “black swan moment”, referencing the implications of an accepted orthodoxy of impossibility being disproven, later developed into the “black swan logical fallacy” which became a term used when identifying falsification.

However, the two meanings can co-exist in the one sentence such as: (1) “Fortunately, the most peculiar of the styling motifs Plymouth used on the 1961 range remained peculiar to that single season” or (2) “On the basis of comments from experts in the linguistics community, Lindsay Lohan's peculiar new accent seems peculiar to her.”  In each case the first instance was used in the sense of “strange or weird” while the second suggested “uniqueness”.  Because in sentence construction, unless done for deliberate effect, there's some reluctance to repeat what may be called “noticeable words” (ie those which “stick out” because they’re rare or in some way unusual), writers can be tempted by the sin of what Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called “elegant variation”.  Although willing to concede inelegance had its place as a literary or dramatic device (rather as a soprano with a lovely voice sometimes has to sing an aria which demands she sounds “ugly”), Henry Fowler preferred all sentences to be elegant.  Elegance however was a product and not a process, and he cautioned “young writers” (those older presumably written off as beyond redemption) against following what had become established as a “misleading rules of thumb”: Never to use the same word twice in a sentence or within 20 lines or other limit.”  His view was that if unavoidable, repetition, elegantly done was preferable to the obviously contrived used of synonyms such as (1) monarch, king, sovereign, ruler or (2) women, ladies, females, the variants there just to comply with a non-existent rule.  Predictably, the law was singled out as repeat offender, the use of “suits, actions & cases appearing in the one sentence to describe the same thing pointlessly clumsy in what was merely a list in which a repeated use of “cases” would had added clarity although that quality is not one always valued by lawyers.   

Peculiar in the sense of something bizarre: 1961 Plymouth Fury Convertible.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time and never has there been anything to suggest the stylists were under the influence of stimulants stronger than caffeine or nicotine.

Sometimes something thought peculiar can be described as “funny-peculiar” to distinguish it from something disturbing: peculiarities can be thought of as perversions.  In 1906, an embittered and vengeful Friedrich von Holstein (1837–1909; between 1876-1906, an éminence grise in the foreign office of the German Empire) sent a letter to the diplomat Prince “Phili” Phillip of Eulenburg (1847–1921), the man he blamed for ending of his long and influential career:

“My dear Phili – you needn’t take this beginning as a compliment since nowadays to call a man ‘Phili” means – well, nothing very flattering… I am now free to handle you as one handles such a contemptible person with your peculiarities.”

From this incendiary note ensued a series of legal proceedings exploring the allegations of “unnatural conduct” (homosexual activity) levelled against Prince Phillip, proceedings which involved a roll-call of characters, many with motives which went beyond their strict legal duty and a few with their own agendas.  The matter of Phili’s “peculiarities” was of real political (and potentially constitutional) significance, not merely because homosexuality was punishable under the criminal code (although the statute was rarely enforced) but because the prince had for decades been the closest friend of the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918).  To this day, the exact nature of the relationship between the two remains uncertain.

Dwarf

Dwarf (pronounced dwawrf)

(1) A person of abnormally small stature owing to a pathological condition, especially one suffering from cretinism or some other disease that produces disproportion or deformation of features and limbs.  In human pathology, dwarfism is usually defined, inter-alia, as an adult height less than 1.47 m (4 ft 10 in).

(2) In zoology & botany, an animal or plant much smaller than the average of its kind or species.

(3) In European folklore, a being in the form of a small, often misshapen and ugly, man, usually having magic powers.

(4) In Norse mythology, any member of a race of beings from (especially Scandinavian and other Germanic) folklore, usually depicted as having some sort of supernatural powers and being skilled in crafting and metalworking, often as short with long beards, and sometimes as clashing with elves.

(5) In astronomy, a small version of a celestial body (planet, moon, galaxy, star etc).

(6) Of unusually small stature or size; diminutive; to become stunted or smaller.

Pre 900: From the Middle English dwerf, dwergh, dwerw & dwerȝ, from the Old English dweorh & dweorg (dwarf), replacing the Middle English dwerg and ultimately from the Proto-Germanic dwergaz.  It was cognate with the Scots dwerch, the Old High German twerg & twerc (German Zwerg), the Old Norse dvergr (Swedish dvärg), the Old Frisian dwirg (West Frisian dwerch), the Middle Low German dwerch, dwarch & twerg (German & Low German Dwarg & Dwarch) and the Middle Dutch dwerch & dworch (Dutch dwerg).  The Modern English noun has undergone complex phonetic changes. The form dwarf is the regular continuation of Old English dweorg, but the plural dweorgas gave rise to dwarrows and the oblique stem dweorge which led to dwery, forms sometimes found as the nominative singular in Middle English texts and in English dialects.  Dwarf is a noun and verb, dwarfness & dwarfishness are nouns, dwarfish & dwarflike are adjectives and dwarfishly is an adverb.  The plural forms are dwarves and dwarfs.  Dwarfs was long the common plural in English but after JRR Tolkien (1892-1973) used dwarves, his influence was enough to become the standard plural form for mythological beings.  For purposes non-mythological, dwarfs remains the preferred form.

The M Word

1972 MG Midget (RWA) in British Racing Green (BRG).

Dwarf seems still to be an acceptable term to describe those with dwarfism and Little People of America (LPA), the world’s oldest and largest dwarfism support organization (which maintains an international, membership-based organization for people with dwarfism and their families) has long campaigned to abolish the use of the word “midget” in the context of short humans.  The objection to midget is associative.  It was never part of the language of medicine and it was never adopted as official term to identify people with dwarfism, but was used to label used those of short stature who were on public display for curiosity and sport, most notoriously in the so-called “freak shows”.  Calling people “midgets” is thus regarded as derogatory.  Midget remains an apparently acceptable word to use in a historic context (midget submarine, MG Midget etc) or to describe machinery (midget car racing; the Midget Mustang aerobatic sports airplane) but no new adoptions have been registered in recent years.  The LPA is also reporting some supportive gestures, noting with approval the decision of the Agricultural Marketing Service (AMS) of the US Department of Agriculture’s (USDA) to revise the nomenclature used in the US standards for grades of processed raisins by removing five references to the term “midget”.  Although obviously a historically benign use of the word, its removal was a welcome display of cultural sensitivity.

An interesting outlier however is midget wrestling, a field in which the participants are said enthusiastically to support the label, citing its long traditions and the marketing value of the brand.  Although in the late twentieth century, midget wrestling’s popularity diminished in the last decade there’s be a resurgence of interest and the sport is now a noted content provider for the streaming platforms which run live and recorded footage.  Since the 1970s, midget wrestling has included styles other than the purely technical form with routines extending from choreographed parody and slapstick performances to simulated sexual assault.  These innovations have attracted criticism and the suggesting it’s a return to the freak shows of earlier centuries but audiences in the target demographic seem appreciative and, noting the success of a number of tours and operators, Major League Wrestling in 2022 announced the creation of a midget division.

The MG Midget

Where it began: 1930 MG M-Type Midget Roadster.

The earliest cars to wear MG badge (the name originally “Morris Garages”, an operation which had the same relationship to Morris as AMG does to Mercedes-Benz (ie high-performance variants)) were tuned (and often re-bodied) editions of existing Morris models but in 1928 the 8/33 M.G Midget Sports Series M (truncated usually to “M Type” was displayed at the 1928 London Olympia Motor, series production commencing the next season.  The first of a long line of tiny roadsters, 3,232 would be made between 1929-1932 and the one in the photographs above is fitted with coachwork typical of the era: an open two-seater in the fashionable “boat-tail” style, constructed by Carbodies of Coventry using construction technique which began in aviation, the panels a mix of steel and fabric-covered plywood over an ash frame.  The fabric soft-top was stored under the rear deck along its frame, tools and a spare wheel.  In the spirit of the age, a rakish two-piece windshield was fitted and there was no provision for a heater.  Despite the minimalist accommodation, the engine was surprisingly advanced, the four-cylinder engine using a bevel-gear-driven single overhead cam turning off the vertically mounted generator, 27 horsepower at a then impressive 5400 rpm generated from a displacement of 847 cm3 (51.68 cubic inches).  A footnote in the Midget’s history is that the first exported to the US was in 1930 bought by Edsel Ford (1893–1943; president of the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) 1919–1943), then titular head of his father’s (Henry Ford (1863-1947)) eponymous Motor company which, by the million, built larger vehicles.

1960 Austin-Healey Sprite Mark I (top left), 1966 MG Midget Mark II (top right), 1973 MG Midget Mark III (RWA, bottom left) and 1979 MG Midget Mark IV (bottom right).

For a new generation (1961-1979) of diminutive roadsters, MG revived the Midget name last used on the M-Type. MG was by the 1950s part of British Motor Corporation (BMC (1952-1967) which later would be absorbed by the doomed British Leyland (1968–1990)) and a corporate companion marquee was Austin-Healey which between 1958-1961 produced the Sprite (known variously as the “bugeye” or “frogeye”), a small sports car, built on the familiar template of economy car underpinnings with a stylish body.  After the release of the MGA (1955-1962), MG no longer had a competitor in the low-price segment so BMC took the decision that the two companies would share the model, yet another example of the “badge engineering” which BMC pragmatically (and for a while lucratively) would exploit until the process descended into self-defeating absurdity.  When the Mark II Sprites were released in 1961 (without the distinctive headlights which were the source of the nicknames), simultaneously there was the debut of the Midget, the latter slightly more expensive and better equipped, although both remained basic roadsters in the old tradition, lacking fittings such as side windows and external door-handles.  The Sprite would continue in three versions (Mark II; 1961-1964, Mark III; 1964-1966, Mark IV 1966-1971) before, following the end of BMC’s contractual arrangement with Donald Healey (1898–1988), briefly it was sold as the Austin Sprite (1971-1972) before the name was retired and the segment was left to MG.  In the decade they’d been companion models, the pair significantly had been improved, gaining power, refinement and creature comforts (the overdue door handles and side windows part of the Mark II upgrades) but what never changed were the dimensions, the things always small, something the balanced styling tended to disguise, the compactness best appreciated when one was seen parked next to a more typically sized vehicle; the Sprite and Midget being dwarfed.

Almost 130,000 Sprites were built while Midget production (which lasted until 1980) totalled some 225,000, the most numerous being the later models (Mk III; 1966–1974: 100,246 units & 1500; 1974–1979: 81,916 units).  A decade before production ended it was already outdated but such was the charm (and lack of competition) that demand remained strong almost to the end.  The most fancied Midgets are the so-called RWA (round wheel arch) models produced between 1972-1974; these adopted the design used on the rear of the bugeyes and are considered the best looking (as well as making the use of wider rear tyres easier) but in 1974 MG had to revert to the squared-off look because the strength gain from the additional metal was necessary to support the large “rubber” bumpers added to conform with US regulations; the RWA bodywork was found to be prone to damage when the rear-impact tests were conducted.  Even before the huge bumpers unhappily had been grafted, US market cars had for some months had large rubber “buffers” bolted to the chrome bumpers, known in the US as “Dagmars” and in the UK as “Sabrinas” both names tributes to the hardly vague anatomical similarity with the two pop culture figures.  Along with the big bumpers, to comply with minimum headlight height regulations in the US, the suspension height was raised by about an inch (25 mm), something which raised the centre of gravity and thus affected the handling characteristics, something adjustments to the anti-roll bars only partially ameliorated.  Visually, the increased height was disguised by lowering curve of the front wheel arch.

Triumph Spitfire, also a midget-sized roadster

A midget (with a small “m”) dwarfed by two behemoths: A 1977 Triumph Spitfire between two Ford Super Duty F-450s heavy pick-up trucks.  At their intended purpose (carrying or towing heavy payloads) Ford’s Super Duty heavy pick-up trucks perform well but such is the consumer appeal they’re a not uncommon sight used as passenger vehicles, even in cities; they can thus be both a personal and political statement, owners delighted Ford has made pick-ups great again (MPUGA).

Adopted for the range in 1999, Ford between 1958-1981 had previously used the “Super Duty” label on three large displacement (401, 477 & 534 cubic inch (6.6, 7.8 & 8.8 litre) gas (petrol) V8s, the family one of a remarkable variety of different V8s the corporation produced during the 1950s & 1960s.  Big, heavy and low-revving, the Super Duty V8 were legendarily robust and famed for their longevity but were doomed ultimately by their prodigious thirst.  They were intended only for heavy-duty, industrial use and in that very different from the Pontiac Super Duty (SD) V8s which were high-performance units, the early versions in the 1960s optimized for drag racing while the revival the next decade was the final fling of the original muscle car era (1964-1974).  The 389 & 421 cubic inch (6.4 & 6.9 litre) versions were offered between 1960-1963 while the 455 (7.5) appeared in 1973-1974 and had it not been for the 455 SD Pontiac Firebirds in those years, the muscle car era would have been regarded as having ended in 1972.  The Watergate-era 455 SD is also a footnote in the history of environmental law because Pontiac (in a preview of Volkswagen’s later “Dieselgate”) used a device to “cheat” on emission testing being undertaken as part of the certification process.  Caught re-handed, Pontiac, guilty as sin, was compelled to remove the “cheat gear” and re-submit a vehicle for testing; that’s the reason the 1973-1974 455 SD was rated at 290 horsepower (HP) rather than the 310 of the original (and more toxic) engine.

1967 Triumph Spitfire Mark II (left) and 1972 Triumph Spitfire Mark IV (with after-market exhaust tips, right).

The Triumph Spitfire had the same relationship to the larger TR sports cars (1952-1976) as the Midget did to the MGB.  Produced in five distinct generations between 1962-1980, like the Sprite & Midget, the Spitfire featured a stylish body atop the platform of a high-volume model and for the coachwork Triumph out-sourced the job to Italy, Giovanni Michelotti (1921–1980) producing a shape which owed nothing to the little Herald (1959-1971) on which it was based.  In continuous production in five versions (Mark I; 1962–1964, Mark II; 1965–1967, Mark III; 1967–1970, Mark IV; 1970–1974 & 1500; 1974–1980), almost 315,000 were built with the later models the most popular, the some 96,000 of the 1500s sold.  Like the Midget, the Spitfire was over the years improved although the things did at least stagnate in the post-1974 US models which became heavier, slower and uglier although in the 1970s that was a general industry trend.  The Although soon under the same corporate umbrella, the Midget & Spitfire were competitors (in the showroom and on the circuits) for almost two decades and when Road & Track magazine in their September 1967 edition published a comparison test, they couldn't decide which was best, concluding: "...whichever one the buyer chooses, he is assured of many miles of motoring pleasure in the great sports car tradition.  They're good cars, both of them.  You can't go wrong."  For the readers that may not have been a great deal of help and the phrasing must have been force of habit because the two little roadsters had always enjoyed some popularity among women.  

The photograph run in 1959 with the caption “Hark the Herald’s axle’s swing” (left) and a Mark I Spitfire's swing axles displaying the same behavior.

The Spitfires of the 1960s were a bit more lively but that description wasn’t always a compliment because, based on the Herald, what was inherited was the swing-axle rear suspension and swing the axles certainly could, leading to a “lively rear”.  When the British motoring press first tested the Herald they noted the behaviour of the swing axles under extreme load and had a photographer appropriately positioned: The caption “Hark the Herald’s axle’s swing” became famous.  None of that deterred Triumph which in 1962 introduced a more powerful version powered by a 1.6 litre (97 cubic inch) straight six.  That meant a faster car which meant the behaviour of the swing axles could be experienced at a higher speed (with all that implies) but the car sold well which was encouraging so Triumph in 1966 fitted a 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) six.  It was not until 1968 the rear suspension was revised and this curative solved the errant characteristics to a degree which impressed even the usually sceptical motoring journalists and sales remained strong until production ended in 1971.  Offered only in four-cylinder form, the revisions to the Spitfire’s rear suspension were less complex but when tested on the Mark IV in 1970, the improvement was apparent and from this point, criticism ceased of of road-holding at the limit.

1967 Triumph GT6 Mark I (also with after-market exhaust tips, left) and 1979 Triumph Spitfire 1500 (right).  With production ending in 1973, the GT6 was spared from being disfigured by the battering-ram like bumpers imposed on the Spitfire, those on the last of the line (1979-1980) the biggest.

While the roadster never gained six-cylinder power, Triumph from 1966 offered a coupé version (with a convenient hatchback, al la the Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974) called the GT6.  Mechanically it followed the Vitesse except it was only ever fitted with the 2.0 litre engine and didn’t receive the suspension fix until the Mark II in 1969 and that transformed things although, being relatively complex it must have been deemed too expensive to justify on what proved a low-volume model and the with the release of the Mark III in 1970, a version of that used on the Spitfire was substituted and it proved just as effective.  Sales of the GT6 never matched the company’s expectation and the market preferred the MGB GT (1965-1980) which used the same concept for the body.  Noting the costs which would have been incurred to make the GT6 compliant with the US regulations to take effect from 1974, production ended in late 1973.  Because the considerably more powerful (especially the fuel-injected versions sold outside the US) 2.5 litre six Triumph used in the TR5 (which, with twin carburetors, was in North America sold as the TR-250), TR6, 2.5 PI & 2500 is a relatively easy swap, quite a few GT6s have been so upgraded although some attention does need to be paid to the chassis to achieve a completely satisfactory road car.  

The short stature of Victor Emmanuel III (1869–1947; King of Italy 1900-1946) with (left to right), with Aimone of Savoy, King of Croatia (Rome, 1943), with Albert I, King of the Belgians (France, 1915), with his wife, Princess Elena of Montenegro (Rome 1937) & with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), observing the Italian navy conduct manoeuvres, Gulf of Naples, 1938.  Note the King of Italy's sometimes DPRKesque hats.

Technically, Victor Emmanuel didn’t fit the definition of dwarfism which sets a threshold of adult height at 4 feet 10 inches (1.47 m), the king about 2 inches (50 mm) taller (or less short) and it’s thought the inbreeding not uncommon among European royalty might have been a factor, both his parents and grandparents being first cousins.  However, although not technically a dwarf, that didn’t stop his detractors in Italy’s fascist government calling him (behind his back) il nano (the dwarf), a habit soon picked up the Nazis as der Zwerg (the dwarf) (although Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) was said to have preferred der Pygmäe (the pygmy)).  In court circles he was knows also (apparently affectionately) as la piccola sciabola (the little sabre) a nickname actually literal in origin because the royal swordsmith had to forge a ceremonial sabre with an unusually short blade for the diminutive sovereign to wear with his many military uniforms.  His French-speaking wife (Princess Elena of Montenegro (1873–1952; Queen of Italy 1900-1946)) stood a statuesque six feet (1.8 m) tall and always called him mon petit roi (my little king).  It was a long and happy marriage and genetically helpful too, his son and successor (who enjoyed only a brief reign) very much taller although his was to be a tortured existence.  Still, in his unhappiness the scion stood tall and that would have been appreciated by the late Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (1921–2021) who initially approved of the marriage of Lady Diana Spencer (1960-1997) to the Prince of Wales (b 1948) on the basis that she “would breed some height into the line”.

In cosmology, the word dwarf is applied to especially small versions of celestial bodies.  A dwarf galaxy is a small galaxy of between several hundred and several billion stars, (the Milky Way may have as many as billion) and astronomers have identified many sub-types of dwarf galaxies, based on shape and composition.  A dwarf planet is a small, planetary-mass object is in direct orbit of a star, smaller than any of the eight classical planets but still a world in its own right.  Best-known dwarf planet is now Pluto which used to be a planet proper but was in 2006 unfortunately down-graded by the humorless types at the International Astronomical Union (IAU) who are in charge of such things.  It’s hoped one day this decision will be reversed so Pluto will again be classified a planet.  Dwarf planets are of interest to planetary geologists because despite their size, they may be geologically active bodies.  The term dwarf star was coined when it was realized the reddest stars could be classified as brighter or dimmer than our sun and they were created the categories “giant star” (brighter) and dwarf star (dimmer).  As observational astronomy improved, the

With the development of infrared astronomy there were refinements to the model to include (1) the dwarf star (the “generic” main-sequence star), (2) the red dwarf (low-mass main-sequence star), (3) the yellow dwarfs are (main-sequence stars with masses comparable to that of the Sun, (4) the orange dwarf (between a red dwarf and yellow/white stars), (5) the controversial blue dwarf which is a hypothesized class of very-low-mass stars that increase in temperature as they near the end of their main-sequence lifetime, (6) the white dwarf which is the remains of a dead star, composed of electron-degenerate matter and thought to be the final stage in the evolution of stars not massive enough to collapse into a neutron star or black hole, (7) the black dwarf which is theorized as a white dwarf that has cooled to the point it no longer emits visible light (it’s thought the universe is not old enough for any white dwarf to have yet cooled to black & (8) the brown dwarf, a sub-stellar object not massive enough to ever fuse hydrogen into helium, but still massive enough to fuse deuterium.

Coolest dwarf of all is (9) the ultra-cool dwarf (first defined in 1997), somewhat deceptively named for non cosmologists given the effective temperature can be as high as 2,700 K (2,430°C; 4,400°F); in space, everything is relative.  Because of their slow hydrogen fusion compared to other types of low-mass stars, their life spans are estimated at several hundred billion years, with the smallest lasting for about 12 trillion years.  As the age of the universe is thought to be only 13.8 billion years, all ultra-cool dwarf stars are relatively young and models predict that at the ends of their lives the smallest of these stars will become blue dwarfs instead of expanding into red giants.

Disney's seven dwarfs; they're now cancelled.

The events towards the conclusion of the nineteenth century German fairy tale Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs make ideal reading for young children.  Her evil step-mother has apparently killed poor Snow White so the seven disappointed dwarfs lay her body in a glass coffin.  The very next, a handsome prince happens upon the dwarfs’ house in the forest and is so captivated by her beauty he asks to take her body back to his castle.  To this the dwarfs agree but while on the journey, a slight jolt makes Snow White come to life and the prince, hopelessly in love, proposes and Snow White accepts.  Back at the palace, the prince invites to the wedding all in the land except Snow White's evil stepmother.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, even Happy looking sad.

The step-mother however crashes the wedding and discovers the beautiful Snow White is the bride.  Enraged, she again attempts murder but the prince protects her and, learning the truth from his bride, forces the step-mother to wear a pair of red-hot iron slippers and dance in them until she dies; that takes not long and once she has the decency to drop dead, the nuptials resume.  In the way things happen in fairy tales, the prince and Snow White live happily ever after.

DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion)

The condition achondroplasiaphobia describes those with a “fear of little people".  The construct is achondroplasia (the Latin a- (not) +‎ the Ancient Greek chondro- (cartilage) + the New Latin‎ -plasia (growth); the genetic disorder that causes dwarfism) + phobia (from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) from φόβος (phóbos) (fear).  The condition, at least to the extent of being clinically significant, is thought rare and like many of the especially irrational phobias is induced either by (1) a traumatic experience, (2) depictions in popular culture or (3) reasons unknown.  Achondroplasiaphobia has never appeared in the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).  In 2006, it was reported that while dining at the Chateau Marmont hotel in Los Angeles, after noticing two people of short stature had entered the restaurant, Lindsay Lohan suffered an "anxiety attack" and hyperventilated to the extent she had to take "an anti-anxiety pill" to calm down.  To her companions she repeatedly said "I’m so scared of them!"  A spokesperson for the LPA responded by suggesting Ms Lohan should "...treat her fear the same as she would a fear of any other protected minority population.  If that fails, she might find diversity training to be useful."  Almost immediately the story appeared, it was debunked by a representative for Ms Lohan who issued a statement  saying she is not achondroplasiaphobic and not in any way scared of little people, adding "Lindsay loves all people."

Prince Charming's non-consensual kiss of Snow White on her "lips red as blood".

In February 2025, Luis Rubiales (b 1977), the former president of the Royal Spanish Football Federation was found guilty of sexual assault for kissing player Jenni Hermoso (b 1990) without her consent and was fined €10,800 so, at least in some jurisdictions, the matter of consenting to a kiss is not mere legal theory.

Among critics and industry analysts, the consensus seem to be that in late 1919 when the project was approved, for Disney to allocate a budget of US$200 million (it ended up being booked at around US$250 million) to a remake of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) probably was a good idea.  Based on the German fairy tale Sneewittchen which first appeared in print early in the nineteenth century, Disney’s 1937 production was the first animated, full-length feature film made in the US and it was both critically acclaimed and a great commercial success, becoming the highest-grossing film of 1938; adjusted for inflation, it’s success then and since has made it one of the most profitable films ever made.

The elements in its success were (1) the quality of the studio’s work, (2) advances in the technology delivering sight and sound which made the audience's experience so vivid and (3) the threads of the story which are fairy tale classics: A wicked queen, jealous of her stepdaughter’s beauty orders her murder, only to discover she’s hiding out in a cottage with seven dwarves so she poisons her with an adulterated apple, inducing a deep sleep from which she eventually is awoken by the kiss of a handsome prince.  In 1937, had the word “problematic” then been in use, it wouldn't have been applied to anything in the plot but by the early 2020s, things had changed.  In the pre Trump 2.0 era, when DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) was compulsory, having Snow White gaining her name because her skin was as “white as snow” and the very existence of dwarfs were both definitely “problematic” so the challenge was to keep the “Snow White” in the title while changing troublesome content as required.  That's been done before and had the 2024 US presidential election elected someone (probably anyone) else, Snow White could have appeared in cinemas to lukewarm reviews but a solid box office based on 7-11 year old girls still impressed at Meghan Markle (Meghan, Duchess of Sussex; b 1981) having proved its not only in fairy tales that princes rescue middle-class girls from dreary lives.  Only Fox News would much have bothered with a condemnation.

Times have changed.  Whether it's Snow White or Sleeping Beauty, for a man (whether or not a prince) to kiss an unresponsive female, it's now usually some sort of assault.  An unresponsive female cannot grant consent.

So for Disney, the timing of events was unfortunate but the earlier race and cultural controversies which swirled around the earlier remakes of Mulan (2020) and The Little Mermaid (2023) should have been a warning.  Most jarring perhaps was the absence of “dwarfs” (in the historic sense of the word).  While Snow White is of course the protagonist, in casting terms there was only one of her and seven of them so the substitution of the heptad with “magical creatures” was always going to attract a critique of its own.  According to the studio, it consulted members of the dwarfism community (the so-called “little people”) “to avoid reinforcing stereotypes” before the re-casting but, given the production was, according to many, replete with cultural, sexist and chauvinist tropes, the cancelled dwarfs received less attention than might have been expected.  With reviewers using phrases like “exhaustingly awful reboot” and “tiresome pseudo-progressive additions”, expectations of success for Snow White have been lowered.