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). Purists use the spelling heptadekaphobia to avid the mix.
There are a variety of theories to account for the Italian superstition which had rendered 17 the national “unlucky number”. The most accepted 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”. 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 17th day of the month, 17 thus obviously a “death number” to the logical Roman mind and the worst 17th days of the month were those which coincided with a full moon, an intensifier in the same sense that in the West the conjunction leading to a Friday the 13th is so threatening. 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.
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
thirteenth 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 “14th” floor is
of course the 13th (in the architectural sense) 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
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: Some Lindsay Lohan Seventeen magazine covers. 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 died messy, drug-related deaths at 27), 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 restricted presumably to weed-smokers in the US), 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 their replacement by twin-engined machines made increasingly with composites and packed with lithium-ion batteries, a more common fear may be “not flying on a 747”). Enniakosioihendecaphobia (fear of 911) (presumably, in the US, sometimes a co-morbidity with tetrakosioeikosiphobia or suffered by those with a bad experience with a pre-modern Porsche 911 which, in inexpert hands, could behave as one would expect of a very powerful Volkswagen Beetle) and the rare condition nongentiseptuagintatrestrillionsescentiquinquagintanovemmiliacentumtredecimdeciesoctingentivigintiquattuormiliatrecentiphobia (fear of 973,659,113,824,315) (that one created presumably 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). 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” 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 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
many.
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 to be unaware of the nature of prime
numbers but 17 is a prime number and there are also periodic cicadas with a 13
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' least common multiple (LCM) being 221
years; the last time the two cicadas
emerged together was in 1868 and the next such even 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.
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 (usually variously in 2.5 & 3.0 litre displacements), Maserati a 2.0 V6 (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).
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 begat the Mustang and in Europe Ford got the Capri from the Taunus/Cortina duo. Opel’s swoopy GT was (most improbably) underneath just a 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 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”.
Using the
same formula, the Renault 17 was built on the underpinnings of the Renault 12,
a remarkably durable platform, introduced in 1979 and, in one form or another, manufactured
or assembled in more than a dozen countries, the last not produced until 2006. Like the 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, front wheel drive (FWD) 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 Volkswagen’s Sirocco GTi & Golf GTi. 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.
