Epoch

Epoch (pronounced ep-uhk or ee-pok)

(1) A particular period of time marked by distinctive features, events etc.

(2) The beginning of a distinctive period in the history of anything.

(3) A point in time distinguished by a particular event or state of affairs; a memorable date.

(4) In geology, any of several divisions of a geologic period during which a geologic series is formed (much associated with rock formation).  An epoch (the shortest division of geologic time) is a sub-division of a period.  As a geochronologic unit, an epoch can range between hundreds of thousands to millions of years.

(5) In astronomy, an arbitrarily fixed instant of time or date, usually the beginning of a century or half century, used as a reference in giving the elements (such as coordinates of a planetary orbit) relating to a celestial body.

(6) In astronomy, the mean longitude of a planet as seen from the sun at such an instant or date.

(7) In chronology, astronomy & computing, a specific instant in time, chosen as the point of reference or zero value of a system that involves identifying instants of time.

(8) In physics, the displacement from zero at zero time of a body undergoing simple harmonic motion (the displacement of an oscillating or vibrating body at zero time).

(9) In AI (artificial intelligence), one complete presentation of the training data set to an iterative machine learning algorithm.

1605-1615: From the Medieval Latin epocha, from the Ancient Greek ἐποχή (epokhḗ) (epochē) (a check, cessation, stop, pause, fixed time, epoch of a star (ie the point at which it seems to halt after reaching the highest, and more generally the place of a star (thus the extension of use to “a historical epoch”))), from ἐπέχω (epékhō, (to hold in, check), the construct being ἐπι- (epi-) (upon) + ἔχω (ékhō) (to have, hold), from the primitive Indo-European root segh- (to hold).  The early seventeenth century adoption in English of epocha was in the sense of “point marking the start of a new period in time” and it was used by scholars and theologians of momentous events in history (the crucifixion of Christ; the Visigoths gathering at the gates of Rome etc).  Less than a decade after epocha had entered the language, the transferred meaning “a period of time” was in use and it entered the jargon of geology in 1802 although the technology then did not permit precise measurements and exploration was then embryonic (what are now understood as dinosaur fossils not so classified until 1824) so most of the early estimates of geological epochs were inaccurate.

Confusingly, “epoch” can be used either to refer to a distinct and defined historic period (ie with an agreed beginning & end) or the event associated with the beginning of that period.  The latter concept is best understood in the adjectival forms “epoch-making” and “epochful”.  Subepoch is a technical term from geology, used as a geochronologic unit comprising one or more ages, being a period of generally agreed significance within an epoch.  The companion superepoch (two or more sequential epochs references as one for illustrative or didactic purposes is non-standard.  In statistical analysis, sub_epoch, base-epoch, super_epoch & primary_epoch exist as commands in aspects of database handling and manipulation, the link being the use of “datum” as epoch’s coordinate term in cartography and engineering.  The alternative form epocha was in use between the seventeenth & nineteenth centuries.  Epoch is a noun & verb, epochful, epocjless & epochal are adjectives and epochally is an adverb; the noun plural is epochs.

Bal du moulin de la Galette (Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette, 1876), oil on canvas by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841–1919), Musée d'Orsay, Paris

The Belle Époque (appearing in texts often as La Belle Époque with capitalization not always used) was a period in European history characterized by peace, progress, cultural refinement and artistic innovation; the term was an adoption of the French La Belle Époque (literally “the beautiful era” and best understood as “the golden age”).  Historians date the start of the Belle Époque from the end of the Franco-Prussian War (1970-1871) although, “on the ground” it likely wasn’t so clear-cut because the impositions of war reparations made the first few post-war years “difficult” in France so “mid-1870s” may be a better point of origin.  The Belle Époque lasted until the blast of World War I (1914-1918) destroyed the continent’s sense of optimism and ended an era characterized by what might now be call an “end of history” feeling that held things like wars, famines and plagues were in the past and the future would be one of progress and improvement.

Art Nouveau.

An advertisement (1899) for Moët & Chandon's champagnes, designed by Czech painter & graphic artist Alphonse Mucha (1860–1939):  “White Star” champagne (left) & “Grand Crémant Imperial” (right).  The product is very much a period piece, Art Nouveau characterized by swirling shapes, stylized representations of women and intricate floral motifs.  For those with enough disposable income, La Belle Époque must have been an amusing time to live.  The “modern industrial” sense later summoned by the straight, sharp and geometric lines of Art Deco was a deliberate rejection of Art Nouveau's intricate, hand-crafted aesthetic yet in Art Deco the influence of the earlier style often is apparent.  Although by the 1920s unfashionable and in the inter-war years casually dismissed by many critics and historians, Art Nouveau's popular appeal never went away.  While there was never really a “revival”, the style's motifs remained a staple of commercial graphic art and the various “nostalgia movements” before being “cherry picked” by pop art, psychedelia and postmodernists.   

Those 40-odd years of what came to be called La Belle Époque were not without conflict or economic disruptions and it must be remembered Europe’s “golden age” was one of untroubled pleasure only for a select few, most of the population living lives of hard labor and drudgery, many on a variation of the Hobbesian (the very clever and deliciously wicked English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679)) path: “nasty, crowded, brutish and short”.  La Belle Époque is a selective construct of the era’s intellectual and aesthetic landmarks in art, literature and architecture, characterized by opulence, eclecticism and an undeniable dynamism from which emerged movements such as Futurism, Cubism and Art Nouveau.  Viewed from our troubled times, the Belle Époque exists in a warm nostalgic glow and it’s telling the term first gained popularity in France during the 1930s, the decade of the Great Depression.  Even then, La Belle Époque was still in living memory but because it became mythologised as a “golden age”, it was as myth it passed into history.

Lindsay Lohan entering her fifth decade.  Her five eras thus far may loosely be labelled: (1) child star, (2) troubled Hollywood starlet, (3) nemesis, (4) reinvention and (5) redemption.

Signed to the Ford agency, Lindsay Lohan secured her first modelling gig aged three but what’s understood as the “Lindsay Lohan era” ran for the decade after the release of Mean Girls (2004).  It was characterized by her low-speed car crashes, court appearances and becoming a staple of the tabloid press and lower reaches of the glossy magazine industry, a reasonable contribution to GDP (gross domestic product), providing predictable cash flow for paparazzi on both sides of the Atlantic.  Improbable as it once seemed, she proved a survivor in the churn of the industry's destructive “child star” machine and on 2 July, 2026 celebrated her 40^th birthday.  That happened during the 23^rd FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (the International Federation of Association Football which, for historic reasons, recognizes more countries than the UN (United Nations)) World Cup and, on the day, playing at the Bay Area Stadium in Santa Clara, San Francisco, USA beat Bosnia-Herzegovina 2-0 so that was a good birthday present.  

Geologyin's illustration of the concept of geological epochs.

In scientific usage there is precision, the ICS (International Commission on Stratigraphy) codifying a strict hierarchy on the discipline of geology, the structure being Eon → Era → Period → Epoch → Age.  However, in ordinary English discourse (and even in the work of professional scholars and historians) there is no fixed hierarchy in that an age may be longer than an era and an era may be longer than an epoch; unless following established conventions, writers can opt for whichever word best conveys the intended nuance, a choice that can be influenced by the search for rhetorical effect or the rhythm of the narrative.  So, in the way of English, there are no “rules” but, as a general principle, (1) Age = “known for...”, (2) Era = “lasting period of...” and (3) Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.”  The overlaps in use don’t usually cause confusion but among the fastidious there are acknowledged nuances and accepted conventions of use:

(1) An epoch is a distinct period marked by particular characteristics or events, thus the use in geology where defining changes or sets of conditions can be established by scientific techniques such as chemical analysis or radiocarbon dating.  In non-scientific use, because of the etymological lineage, an epoch typically begins with some sort of event thought a turning point or watershed and this can be an organic development with no exact fixed date (the Industrial Revolution) or something decidedly exact (the epoch of the computer operating system Unix is defined as 00:00:00 UTC, 1 January 1970 although this was not first set precisely then).

(2) An age is a period with a specific, dominant association.  That might be a technology (bronze age; oil age; jet age etc), a characteristic (age of empires; age of European colonialism etc) or an individual (Napoleonic age; Elizabethan Age etc).  Unlike the epochs of geologists and astronomers, “ages” can run in parallel or overlap.  While some are sequential such as the “Three Age System” (Stone Age; Bronze Age; Iron Age) tracking the evolution of humanity's tools and metalworking capabilities between prehistory and Antiquity, others can co-exist such as the Age of Sail & Age of Enlightenment.  Because of the nature of the word and historic pattern of use, of the three, “age” is the most flexible and adaptable because it’s merely associative, not exclusive and often with no precise chronology.

(3) An era is a period (by human standards usually but not necessarily long) with origins at a certain point (usually an event) and characterized by an enduring pattern; eras tend to be major historical phases or systems (the Nazi era; the analogue era etc).  Generally “era” is used to denote something coherent (though it need not be long); a stretch of history with a recognizable character, a beginning and an end.  That can reference the life of an individual (Queen Victoria lent her name to the “Victorian era” 1837-1901), several individuals (there were four Kings of England named George whose collective reign defined the “Georgian era” 1714-1830) or a specific closed-time set (the “inter war era”: 1918-1939).

Eras tour merchandise.  Canvas tapestry featuring photographs from Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour, cotton canvas, 800 mm (31½ inches) x 1220 mm (48 inches).

Taylor Swift’s “Eras” project tends to be thought of as a concert tour but it’s better imagined as pop culture’s greatest ever exercise in vertical integration, a merging of music (audio streaming, packaged (in multiples in the case of the vinyl releases) & live performance), video content, merchandise ranging from framed posters, a “limited edition” book, a film with concert footage, outfits emulating those worn on stage, jewellery, hoodies, pillows, stainless steel tumblers and more.  Although there has in recent years been a bit of mission creep, the idea of a canvas tapestry as a piece of tour merchandise in the pop music business would, until recently, likely have occurred to few.  Commerce has moved on from a half-century earlier when, at a Led Zeppelin concert, one might be able to buy a Tee-shirt (in S, M, L & XL), maybe with a choice of black or white (black quickly selling out).

Ms Swift is good with words and for the “Eras” project may have pondered using “Ages” or “Epochs”.  Given the accepted conventions (Age = “known for...”, Era = “lasting period of...” and Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.”) and the concept of the “Eras” project, a convincing case could have been made for “Ages” because each subset was thematically distinct while the use of “Epochs” would have worked because the word is understood as a “period of time with a beginning and end” but linking each with a single “triggering event” might have descended to abstractions so “Eras” seems the best choice.  Certainly it’s unlikely she long considered using “Periods”; although etymologically defensible, it would have been decarded on much the same basis as that of the publishers of the magazine Australian Women’s Weekly who, upon in 1983 switching to issuing monthly editions, opted not to change the title to “Women’s Monthly”.

There is of course a vagueness associated with the definitions because not all “eras” and “ages” have as convenient bookends the end of one war and the start of another; that’s why context can matter.  In speaking of the time after World War II (1939-1945), “post-war era” is a common term but the meaning can vary depending on what’s being discussed.  It’d be absurd to speak of 2026 as being in the “post-war” era (although in a sense that’s true) so meaning must be gleaned from context.  The two decade period 1918-1939 came to be called both the “inter-war” and “pre-war” era (although many tend to restrict the latter to a start-point in the mid-1930s) and in much historiography there's sometimes the suggestion the “post-war” era can usefully be said to have ended some 20 years hence; that’s about 1965 so conveniently (1) in the new era of the High Cold War, (2) about the length of a then typical “generation” and (3) in the 1960s, a very different era.  So it can be inexact and some with a focus on political economy fix the end date on exactly 17 October 1973, the day OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) proclaimed an oil embargo targeting the US and other states providing military aid to Israel during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.  At that point, the West’s long post-war boom, although already stuttering, ended.  In a similar vein, although also very much a Western-centric view, some historians have argued the nineteenth century is best imagined as a construct running from the close of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) to the outbreak of World War I (1914-1918).  There’s much support for that although there are different views about the conceptual view of the twentieth century. While 1914 seems a logical starting-point, candidates for the end date include 1989 (fall of the Berlin Wall (1961-1989)), 1991 (dissolution of the Soviet Union (1922-1911)) and the 9/11 terrorist strikes in 2001.

Taylor Swift Style: Fashion through the eras.

Between March 2023 and December 2024, Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour took in 149 shows in 51 cities over five continents; each performance ran for a remarkable 3½ hours and there was a mid-tour revision of the song set to interpolate material The Tortured Poets Department (2024), her eleventh studio album.  The “Eras” title was an allusion to the show’s format, a retrospective in which each of her albums was designated as a “musical era”, the many outfits worn tied to those themes and just as each song and each performance was a product, so could be each outfit, some available on-line for purchase by devoted Swifties.  So, as set piece events go, Ms Swift set a high bar and, on revenues in excess of US$2 billion, profits were high and continue to grow.

Even when there are precise start and end dates, things can at the margin become blurred.  Pedants enjoy pointing out the 1960s began on 1 January 1961 so an expression like “the 1960s” ends on 31 December 1969 but the decade in which most of those years existed actually includes 1970, a quirk which extends also to centuries and millennia, something ultimately a product of there being no year zero in the calendar now defining BCE (before Common Era) and CE (Common Era) (the pair the secular version of BC (Before Christ) and AD (from the Latin Anno Domini (in the year of the Lord)), all based on the (nominal) birth date of Jesus Christ.  “Ages” and “eras” can at once be “exact” and “indicative”.  Many of the civilizations of antiquity all had their so-called “golden ages” and these tended to be associated with particular dynasties or reigns.  The examples are many and are cross-cultural, including the Gupta Empire in India (mid-third to mid-sixth century AD) founded by Mahārāja Śrī-Gupta, the Tang dynasty (626-684) & the reign of Tae-tsong (618-626) in China and, in Egypt, the reigns of Sethos I and Ram'eses II (1336-1224 BC).  In the West, the use of “golden ages” is legion including in Russia during the rule of Czar Peter the Great (1672-1725) (memorable because the Russian people have not enjoyed many “golden ages”) and, of course, in England, the “Elizabethan age”, referencing the reign of Elizabeth I (1533–1603; Queen of England & Ireland 1558-1603).  However, at the granular level, the idea of the term “Elizabethan age” denoting a “golden age” in literature was contested by the English writer, literary scholar and Anglican lay theologian C. S. Lewis (1898–1963) who, in his Introduction to English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (1654), distinguished the “estimable” literature of the later Elizabethan period from what he called that of the earlier “drab age”.  Lewis found drabness in the poetry and prose of the later medieval period up to the early Renaissance, distinguishing it from the “golden era style” between circa 1580-1603.  Lewis was an uncompromising critic but while most in the profession may well agree much that was written in the fifteenth century and early Tudor period was “drab”, among those published in the period were Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) and John Skelton (circa 1460-1529); their writing was not beyond criticism but the works were hardly drab.

Sarah Chapelle's (b 1992) Swiftie site documenting looks from The Eras tour: Fearless v6 (worn 18 October, 2024, far left), Midnights v5 (worn 16 August, 2024, centre left), 1989 v2 (worn 19 March, 2023, centre right) and Reputation v1 (worn 18 March, 2023, far right).  Some outfits can be purchased on-line but buyers should note they should not expect their appearance exactly to emulate what's “on the tin”.  

Simulacrum describes an image that while not purely realistic, maintains enough of a likeness for the subject to be recognizable.  In some jurisdictions it can be deemed “deceptive and misleading” if a product is represented in manner judged to be a “deliberate misrepresentation” intended to induce a purchase.  Legal recourse is available but is practical only if enough money is involved (such as real estate); although in theory someone purchasing a McDonalds Big Mac after being tempted by the image in the advertising might have grounds for an action, a claim of under $US10 would not impress a judge and even a class action would, on several grounds, be thrown out.  Presumably a disgruntled consumer could lodge a claim for the “pain & suffering” caused by one's Big Mac not looking as attractive as the one in the advertising but that'd likely anger the judge still more.  The classic simulacrums were the stylish images rendered in the 1960s by Art Fitzpatrick (1919–2015) & Van Kaufman (1918-1995) for GM’s (General Motors) PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) and those of Ms Swift in the Eras Tour outfits are in the same “mannerist but not quite surrealist” tradition.  Although obviously “unrealistic”, these depictions are not “deceptive and misleading” because they’re so obviously simulacral and exist only as devices, the extent of the licence taken illustrated by them appearing next to a flesh & blood Ms Swift in the same outfit.  They are “impossible” rather than “idealized”.

Super simulacrum: The Colossus of Rhodes (circa 1560), hand-colored by Dutch portrait and religious painter Maarten van Heemskerck (1498–1574) on an engraving by Dutch publisher & designer Philip Galle (1537–1612).

The Colossus of Rhodes was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and although it stood for barely half a century before being felled by an earthquake, it's ruins lying for almost a millennium as a kind of tourist attraction before the metal was carted of as scrap to be melted-down an re-cycled.  The notion the statue's legs straddled the entrance to Rhodes Harbor with tall-masted ships passing between them was wholly fanciful; even with modern materials and techniques, such a construction would be impossible.  The engineers and architects of the sixteenth century would of course have known it couldn't be done but such was the allure of the era of Classical Antiquity that brilliant myths seduced the public imagination better than tiresome facts.

Other “era-related” terminology also often used interchangeably relates to that long span of history between the fall of the Western Roman Empire (476 AD) and the dawn of the Renaissance in the late fourteenth century: (1) Middle Ages, (2) Dark Ages and (3) Medieval.  “Middle Ages” is the most obviously descriptive because it refers to the period between the dying gasps of Classical Antiquity and the cultural & artistic revival of the Renaissance while Medieval simply means “relating to the Middle Ages” (although by virtue of association and use, it came to be used also as a slur).  As general principle, historians tend to divide the Middle Ages into (1) Early (476-circa 1000), (2) High (circa 1000-circa 1300) and (3) Late (circa 1300-circa 1500).  “Dark Ages” reflected the prejudices of fifteenth century writers who regarded the earlier Middle Ages (476-circa 1000) as a period of stagnation, lack of progress and “intellectual darkness”, a stark contrast to the idealized vision of Classical Antiquity they constructed from what evidence there was, “filling in the gaps” with imaginations as famously vivid as any of the Medieval scribes and artists responsible for some fabulous beasts.  The Seven Wonders of of the Ancient World” they found especially compelling, some of their speculative depictions of the Colossus of Rhodes and the Walls and Hanging Gardens of Babylon such examples of architectural gigantism even Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) might have been embarrassed.  Maybe they looked in awe at the scale of Great Pyramid of Giza and assumed all the ancients operated in “think big” mode.

Tony Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015) agitprop.

Mr Abbott's combination of relentless negativity and repetition of 3WSs (three word slogans) contributed to his resounding victory in the 2013 general election although, in office, the results were mixed and it ended badly.  Recently revived as the Liberal Party's federal president (the institution's third “Lazerus with a triple bypass” after Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) and John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007)), Mr Abbott unquestionably was one of history's most effective leaders of the opposition but as Roy Jenkins (1920–2003) remarked of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895):  “He was essentially a opposition politician and behaved as such even when in government”.  Of such matters, Jenkins was a fair judge.  Although medieval may literally mean “relating to the Middle Ages” and can be used as a neutral adjective (medieval architecture, medieval manuscripts etc), it is also used as a term of derision: “Mr Abbott’s views on certain topics seem distinctly medieval although, to be fair, the thirteenth century probably never produced a finer mind”.  Used in that way, it implies “outdated, harsh or unenlightened”, a throwback to the stereotypes of the Dark Ages but more recent scholarship has cast doubt on whether the “Dark Ages” was a time as culturally sterile and technologically stagnant and was for centuries an orthodoxy among historians.  A view now more popular is the earlier conceptions of the period were formed because of the relative scarcity of written records and although it’s now clear there was progress in agriculture, law, architecture, theology, literature, engineering and state formation, it is true that compared with what came before and what followed, progress often was fitful.  Of note also is there were in the Renaissance and beyond not a few who didn’t count “advances in theology” as progress worth mentioning.

CONELRAD

CONELRAD (pronounced kon-ill-rad or kon-ill-rid)

As an acronym: CONtrol of ELectromagnetic RADiation, a Cold War era  system of emergency public broadcasting developed by the US in the mid 1950s.

Exclusive to the US, CONELRAD was a nationally standardized system of emergency public broadcasting (on the AM (amplitude modulation) medium-wave band at 640 & 1240 kHz) intended to operate in the event of enemy attack during the Cold War.  The original specifications for what emerged as CONELRAD was first discussed at the "Informal Government-Industry Technical Conference" (March, 1951) and later published by the FCC (Federal Communications Commission): "The primary plan for alerting broadcast stations that is currently being considered by the FCC Study Group is known as the Key Station System.  The arrangement requires certain telephone circuits (private wire or direct line to Toll Board) between the Air Defense Control Centers (ADCC) and specified radio stations to be known as Basic Key Stations & Relay Key Stations”.

Cold War PSA (public service announcement).

The essence of the system was each Basic Key Station upon receiving an alert or warning signal from the ADCC would, upon instruction, broadcast a predetermined message and also relay the message by telephone to all Relay Key Stations assigned to each Basic Key Station.  As a diversified network designed to be able to continue functioning even if various parts were destroyed, it was conceptually similar to a later US military project which would later evolve into the internet.  Intended to be simple, robust and able to reach as wide a possible audience in the shortest possible time, CONELRAD used simple protocols for alerting the public and other "downstream" stations, consisting of a sequence of shutting the station off for five seconds, returning to the air for five seconds, again shutting down for five seconds, and then transmitting a tone for 15 seconds.  Key stations would be alerted directly and all other broadcast stations would monitor a designated station in their area.

In the event of an attack on the US, all domestic television and FM (frequency modulation) radio stations were required immediately to cease broadcasting and upon alert, almost all AM stations shut down, those remaining on-air transmitting either on 640 or 1240 kHz.  No transmission would last more than a few minutes and upon one going “off-air” another would take over the frequency on a ”round robin” chain, this to confuse enemy aircraft which might be navigating using RDF (Radio Direction Finding), a technique first widely used in the early days of World War II (1939-1945).  In the US, all radio sets manufactured between 1953-1963 were required to have the two frequencies marked by the triangle-in-circle (CD Mark), the symbol of Civil Defense organizations.  In 1963, CONELRAD was replaced by the EBS (Emergency Broadcast System) which operated until 1997 when all responsibilities were assumed by the FCC.

Diet Coke product placement in Mean Girls (2004).  One of the clues in identifying product placement is that items carefully are placed so brand-names are always legible.

Product placement, a technique on marketing in which products are brands are “worked into” something like a film or television programmes, is now so ubiquitous (witness the frequent appearance in Mean Girls (2004) of Coca-Cola, Doritos, Cheetos, Dunkin' Donuts, Red Bull, Silk Milk, Taco Bell etc) that there are now internet sleuths gleefully who document each instance.  Frequently, the presence of a product is merely an example of “brand awareness” with no substantive effect on the plot (in most cases it’s of no significance whether the characters drive Fords or Buicks or drink Pepsi or Coca-Cola) although there have been some deemed morally or politically dubious and variously they’ve involved things like alcohol, tobacco or firearms or institutions like the US military.  Known also as “embedded marketing”, the technique is most associated with commercial cinema where the stuff is easy to interpolate but there have been examples even in literary fiction, the best known being The Bulgari Connection (2001) by Fay Weldon (1931-2023).  In that, in exchange for an undisclosed payment, the author was required to make a specified number of mentions of the Italian luxury goods house Bulgari (generously, greatly she exceeded the quota).  Of course, that’s an example which became notorious and it’s not known how many other “respectable” novelists have been subsidized this way.

Stromberg-Carlson radio (with CONELRAD settings arrowed in red) promoted as one of the many “plusses” in the ownership of one of the Ford Motor Company's new Edsels.  In Australia, the phrase “it seemed like a good idea at the time”  is known colloquially as the “streaker's defence”.

The companion technique is “product association”.  Here, a company seeks in some obvious way to be associated with someone or some institution and in every glossy magazine there will, in one form or another, be probably dozens of examples.  Usually, “product association” is contractual with the consideration (usually cash or some form of contra arrangement) flowing one way or the other but the technique can also be executed as a form of “ambush marketing” (a hotel hiring for a morning a number of Ferraris, Lamborghinis and such to park outside for a photo-shoot, thereby hoping the “prestige” of the brands will “rub off”, despite the manufacturers receiving not a peppercorn for their unwitting participation).  More conventionally, it’s a normal commercial transaction entered into on terms agreeable to both parties and, if thought mutually beneficial, it may be on the basis of NMA (no monetary action).  In the matter of Stromberg-Carlson (by then a division of General Dynamics, now famous for nuclear submarines, warplanes and such) advertising their satisfaction at their new “transistorized” radio with “Town-and-Country tuning” being “one of the outstanding plus features of America’s newest car, the exciting Edsel”, it would have seemed like a good idea at the time.  By all accounts the Stromberg-Carlson car radios were fine devices but exhorting customers to: “See and drive the Edsel – it’s wonderful!” would have done nothing to enhance the corporate image.  That is of course a risk with product association: just as positive image can rub off, if things go awry, there’s a risk of that spreading too.  As it was, the Edsel venture floundered within three seasons but Stromberg-Carlson wasn’t part of the collateral damage.

1958 Edsel Citation Convertible, a failure with a fine CONERAD transistorized radio by Stromberg-Carlson.

Formed in 1894 as a partnership between Swedish immigrants Alfred Stromberg (1861-1913) and Androv Carlson (1854-1925), Stromberg-Carlson was for much of the twentieth century one of the dominant US manufacturers and distributors of electronics and telecommunications equipment.  As is modern corporate practice, Stromberg-Carlson became absorbed into other concerns and has since been part of the swirl of M&A (mergers & acquisitions) activities but it remains active in the industry.  Between 1906-1907, Alfred Stromberg dissolved his interests in telecommunications and formed what would become the Stromberg Motor Devices Company and ultimately Stromberg Carburetors.  In the post-war years, Zenith-Stromberg carburetors were used on a variety of British cars but they became well-known in the US after being adopted in the late 1960s because the company had a product which was ideally suited to complying with the increasingly stringent US emission regulations, the trade-off being some loss of performance, particularly at higher engine speeds.  In something like the Jaguar E-Type (XKE; 1961-1971), the switch from triple SU carburetors to dual Zenith-Strombergs meant the high-speed response suffered but, even in those happier days, there weren't than many who with any frequency explored how the things performed above 125 mph (200 km/h).

Grammatology

Grammatology (pronounced gram-uh-tol-uh-jee)

(1) Historically, the scientific study of systems of writing.

(2) In latter-day use, a critique of orthodox linguistics.

Early 1800s (in its original sense): The construct was gramma(r) + -t- + -ology; the modern (some would say post-modern) re-purposing was first used in 1967.  Dating from the mid fourteenth century, grammar was from the Middle English gramery & gramere, from the Old French gramaire (classical learning), from the unattested Vulgar Latin grammāria, an alteration of the Classical Latin grammatica, from the Ancient Greek γραμματική (grammatikḗ) (skilled in writing), from γράμμα (gramma) (line of writing), from γράφω (gráphō) (write), from the primitive Indo-European gerbh (to carve, to scratch).  It displaced the native Old English stæfcræft; a doublet of glamour, glamoury, gramarye & grimoire.  In English, grammar is used to describe the system of rules and principles for the structure of a language (or of languages in general) but in colloquial use it’s applied also to morpology (the internal structure of words) and syntax (the structure of phrases and sentences of a language).  In English, generative grammar (the body of rules producing all the sentences permissible in a given language, while excluding all those not permissible) has for centuries been shifting and it’s now something policed by the so-called “grammar Nazis”, some of whom insist on enforcing “rules” regarded by most as defunct as early as the nineteenth century.

The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).  Grammatology & grammatologist are nous, grammatological is an adjective and grammatologically is an adverb; the noun plural is grammatologies.

Google ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Grammatology in its re-purposed sense was from the French grammatologie, introduced to the world by French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) in his book De la grammatologie (Of Grammatology (1967)).  It may be unfair to treat Derrida’s use as a “re-purposing” because although the word grammatology (literally “the study of writing”) had existed since the early nineteenth century, it was a neologism, one of an expanding class of “-ology” words (some of them coined merely for ironic or humorous effect) and there was prior to 1967 scant evidence of use, those studying languages, literature or linguistics able satisfactorily to undertake their work without much needing “grammatology”.  On the basis of the documents thus far digitized, “grammatology” was never an accepted or even commonly used term in academia and although it seems occasionally to have been used variously in fields related to “the study of writing systems” (apparently as a synonym for paleography, epigraphy, writing-system classification or orthographic description) it was only in passing.  Until the modern era, words “going viral” happened relatively infrequently and certainly slowly and, as used prior to 1967, “grammatology” was attached to no theoretical construct or school of thought and described no defined discipline, the word indicative, empirical and neutral.  If “pre-modern” grammatology could be summed up (a probably dubious exercise), it would be thought a technical term for those concerned with scripts, alphabets, symbols and the historical development of writing systems.  Tempting though it may seem, it cannot be thought of as proto-structuralism.

The novelty Derrida introduced was to argue the need for a discipline examining the history, structure and philosophical implications of writing, his particular contention that writing is not secondary to speech, a notion at odds with centuries of Western metaphysics.  At the time, it was seen as a radical departure from orthodoxy, Derrida exploring (in the broadest imaginable way), the possibilities of writing, not simply the familiar physical inscriptions, but anything that functions as “trace,” “differance,” or symbolic marking, the core argument being writing is not secondary to speech (although in the narrow technical sense it may be consequent); rather, it reveals the instability and “constructedness” of language and thereby meaning.

De la grammatologie (First edition, 1967) by Jacques Derrida.

Ambitiously, what Derrida embarked upon was to do to the study something like what Karl Marx (1818-1883) claimed to have done to the theories of Hegel (Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831)): “turn things on their head”, a process that can be classified under four themes: (1) Writing as prior to speech (as opposed to the earlier “Writing is derivative of speech”).  What this meant was writing had to be considered as “originary”, implying structures of difference could precede both writing and speech. (2) Writing (the act as opposed to the content) as a philosophical concept rather than a finite collection of technical objects to be interpreted or catalogued on the basis of their form of assembly.  (3) Grammatology becomes a critique (as opposed to the earlier descriptive tool) of science, reimagining it as a critical discipline exposing the logocentrism of Western thought.  Logocentrism describes the tendency to prioritize “logos” (in academic use a word encompassing words, speech or reason), as the ultimate foundation for truth and meaning (with speech often privileged over writing).  Logocentrism was at the core of the Western philosophical tradition that assumed language accurately and directly can express an external reality, the companion notion being rational thought represents the highest form of knowledge.  Derrida labelled this a false hierarchy that devalued writing and other non-verbal forms of communication and feeling. (4) Writing is expanded beyond literal inscriptions.  Whereas the traditional Western view had been that writing was simply the use of an alphabet, cuneiform, hieroglyphs and such, what Derrida suggested was the concept of writing should be extended to any system of differences, traces, or marks; the condition for meaning itself.

So Derrida took grammatology from an dusty corner of the academy where it meant (for the small number of souls involved) something like “a hypothetical technical study of writing systems” and re-invented it as a philosophical discipline analysing the deeper structures that make any representation or meaning possible.  The notion of it as a tool of analysis is important because deconstruction, the word Derrida and other “celebrity philosophers” made famous (or infamous depending on one’s stance on things postmodern) is often misunderstood as something like “destruction” when really it is a form of analysis.  If Derrida’s subversive idea been presented thirty years earlier (had the author been able to find a publisher), it’s possible it would have been ignored or dismissed by relative few who then read such material.  However, in the post-war years there was an enormous expansion in both the number of universities and the cohorts of academics and students studying in fields which would come to be called “critical theory” so there was a receptive base for ideas overturning orthodoxy, thus the remarkable path deconstruction and postmodernism for decades tracked.

Deconstruction in art, Girl With Balloon by street artist Banksy, before, during & after a (successful) test deconstruction (left) and in its final form (right), London, October 2018.

There is an ephemeral art movement but usually it involves works which wholly are destroyed or entirely disappear.  Banksy’s Girl With Balloon belonged to a sub-category where (1) the deconstruction process was part of the art and (2) the residual elements were “the artwork”.  Banksy’s trick with this one was as the auctioneer’s hammer fell (at Stg£1m), an electric shredder concealed at the base of the frame was activated, the plan being to reduce the work “to shreds” in a pile below.  However, it’s claimed there was a technical glitch and the shredder stopped mid-shred, meaning half remained untouched and half, neatly sliced, hung from the bottom.  As a headline grabbing stunt it worked well but the alleged glitch worked better still, art experts mostly in agreement the work as “half shredded” was more valuable than had it been “wholly shredded” and certainly more than had it remained untouched in the frame.  Thus: “meaning is just another construct which emerges only through differences and deferrals”.

From a distance of sixty-odd years, in the milieu of the strands of thought which are in a sense part of a “new orthodoxy”, it can be hard to understand just what an impact Derrida and his fellow travellers (and, just as significantly, his critics) had and what an extraordinary contribution deconstruction made to the development in thought of so many fields.  Derrida in 1967 of course did not anticipate the revolutionary movement he was about to trigger, hinted at by his book starting life as a doctoral thesis entitled: De la grammatologie: Essai sur la permanence de concepts platonicien, aristotélicien et scolastique de signe écrit. (Of Grammatology: Essay on the Permanence of Platonic, Aristotelian and Scholastic Concepts of the Written Sign).  A typically indigestible title of the type beloved by academics, the clipping for wider distribution was on the same basis as Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) publisher deciding Mein Kampf (My Struggle) was snappier than Viereinhalb Jahre (des Kampfes) gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit (Four and a Half Years [of Struggle] Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice).  There’s a reasons authors usually don’t have the final say on titles and cover art.

Derrida acknowledged linguistics in the twentieth century had become a sophisticated form of study but maintained the discipline was failing to examine its most fundamental assumptions; indeed his point was those core values couldn’t be re-evaluated because they provided the framework by which language was understood.  What Derrida indentified as the superstructure which supported all was the commitment to the primacy of speech and presence and because the prevailing position in linguistics was that speech was primary, the assumption worked to shape all that followed.  It was the influence of the Swiss philosopher & semiotician Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913) which was profound in positioning speech as the natural, original, living form of language with writing as a secondary, derivative (and, in a sense, artificial although this was never wholly convincing) representation of speech.  What made the Saussureian position seem compelling was it sounded logical, given the consensus it was human speech which predated the development of writing, the latter thus the product of the former and so persuasive was the thesis the hierarchy came to provide the framework for other disciplines within linguistics including phonology (the study of the way sounds function in languages) and morphology (the study of the internal structure of morphemes (the smallest linguistic unit within a word able to support a meaning)that can carry a meaning.  What this meant was syntax was also defined by speech (writing a mere convenient means of exchange) with phonetics (the study of the physical sounds of human speech) the true source of the material language.  Thus for generations, in academic discourse, historical linguistics were documented primarily by an analysis of changes in sound with orthography (the methods by which a language or its sounds are represented by written symbols); a mechanical by-product.

Deconstruction in fashion.  Lindsay Lohan in Theia gown, amfAR gala, New York City, February 2013 (left) and after “deconstruction by scissors” (right).

All gowns are “constructed” (some 3D printed or even “sprayed-on”) but sometimes circumstances demand they be “deconstructed”.  On the night, the shimmering nude and silver bugle-beaded fringe gown from Theia’s spring 2011 collection was much admired but there was an “unfortunate incident” (ie the fabric was torn) and, apparently using a pair of scissors, there was some ad-hoc seamstressery to transform the piece into something described as a “mullet minidress”.  That turned out to be controversial because the gown was on loan for the night but such things are just part of the cost of doing business and, with its Lohanic re-imagining, it’s now an artefact.

Derrida didn’t dispute the historic timelines; his point was that in defining linguistics based on this hierarchy, it became impossible to question the orthodoxy from within.  In a classic example of how deconstruction works, he argued the hierarchy was based not on the historical sequence of events (ie writing coming after speech) but was a culturally defined attachment to the idea of presence, voice and authentic meaning; with speech entrenched in its primacy, no discipline within linguistics was able fully to study writing because of this structural prejudice positioning writing as an auxiliary system, a mere notation of sounds encoding the pre-existing spoken language.  That didn’t mean writing couldn’t be studied (as for centuries it had been) but that it could be considered only a tool or artefact used to record speech and never a primary object of meaning.  While there were all sorts of reasons to be interested in writing, for the reductionists who needed to get to the essence of meaning, writing could only ever be thought something mechanistic and thus was philosophically uninteresting.  So, if linguistics was unable to analyse writing as (1) a structure independent of speech, (2) a fundamental element of thought processes, (3) a source of new or changed meanings or (4) a construct where cultural and philosophical assumptions are revealed, that would imply only speech could create meaning with writing a mere form of its expression.  Daringly thus, what Derrida demanded was for writing to be seen as conceptually prior to speech, even if as a physical phenomenon it came later.  In 1967, linguistics couldn’t do that while maintaining the very foundations on which it was built.

Never has there been published a "Grammatology for Dummies" but there is The Complete Idiot's Guide to Literary Theory and Criticism (2013) by Dr Steven J. Venturino.

At this point things became more technical but Derrida did provide a simplified model, explaining linguistics existed as the study of signs and not of traces, his work depending ultimately on certain distinctions: (1) Signs assume stable signifieds and (2) traces imply meaning is always deferred but never present.  For orthodox linguistics to work, the assumption had to be that signs enjoy a stability of meaning within a system; this Derrida dismissed as illusory arguing (1) meaning is just another construct which emerges only through differences and deferrals, (2) no signified is ever (or can ever fully be) “present” and (3) speech is no closer to meaning than writing.  By its own definitions in 1967, linguistics could not accommodate that because (1) its methods depended on systematic relations sufficiently stable to permit analysis, (2) it needed constant objects (definable units such as phonemes, morphemes and rules of syntax), syntactic structures) and (3) it relied on signs which could be described with the required consistency (ie “scientifically”).  Any approach grounding in trace and difference lay beyond the boundaries of orthodox linguistics.

So the conflict would seem irreconcilable but that’s true only if viewed through the lens of a particular method; really, linguistics was empirical and grammatology was philosophical and in that were alternative rather than competing or even parallel paths.  If linguistics was a system of codification, then grammatology was a critique of the foundations of linguistics and Derrida made clear he was not attempting to reform linguistics simply because that couldn’t be done; any attempt to interpolate his ideas into the discipline would have meant it ceased to be linguistics.  He wanted a new discipline, one which rather than empirically describing and categorising language and its elements, stood back and asked what in the first place made such systems possible.  That meant it was a transcendental rather than empirical process, one studying the conditions of representation and the metaphysics implicit in the idea of signification.  Writing thus was not merely marks on a surface but a marker of a difference in being.

The twist in the tale is that although De la grammatologie was highly influential (especially after an Edition appeared in English in 1976), grammatology never became a defined, institutionalised academic field in the way Derrida envisioned it at least supplementing departments of linguistics, anthropology and philosophy.  That was due less to the well-documented phenomenon of institutional inertia than it proving impossible for any consensus to be reached about what exactly “grammatological analysis” was or what constituted “grammatological research”.  Pleasingly, it was the structuralists who could account for that by explaining grammatology was a critique of the metaphysics underlying other disciplines rather than a method for generating new empirical knowledge.  Fields, they noted, were likely organically to grow as the tools produced were picked up by others to be applied to tasks; grammatology was a toolbox for dismantling tools.

Jacques Derrida with pipe, deconstructing some tobacco.

Even if Derrida’s concepts proved sometimes too vague even for academics the influence was profound and, whether as a reaction or something deterministic (advances in computer modelling, neurology and such), the discipline of linguistics became more rather than less scientific, the refinements in the field of generative grammar in particular seen as something of a “doubling down” of resistance to Derrida’s critique, something reflected too in anthropology which came even more to value fieldwork and political economy, philosophical critiques of writing thought less helpful.  So the specialists not only clung to their speciality but made it more specialized still.  Grammatology did however help create genuinely new movements in literary theory, the most celebrated (and subsequently derided) being deconstruction where Derrida’s ideas such as interpretation being an infinite play of differences and the meaning of texts being inherently unstable created one of the more radical schools of thought in the post-war West, introducing to study concepts such as paratext (how academics “read between and beyond the lines) the trace (the mark of something absent, a concept that disrupts the idea of pure presence and self-contained meaning) and marginalia (used here as an abstract extension of what an author may have “written in the margins” to encompass that which may seem secondary to the main point but is actually crucial to understanding the entire structure of thought, blurring the (literal) line between what lies inside and outside a text).

Derrida for Beginners (2007) by Jim Powell (illustrated by Van Howell).  On has to start somewhere.

The movement became embedded in many English and Comparative Literature departments as well as in post-structuralism and Continental philosophy.  Modern beasts like media studies & cultural theory are (in their understood form) unthinkable without deconstruction and if grammatology didn’t become “a thing”, its core elements (difference, trace etc) for decades flourished (sometimes to the point of (published) absurdity) and although not all agree, some do argue it was Derrida’s subversion in 1967 which saw the field of semiotics emerge to “plug the gaps” left by the rigidity of traditional linguistics.  Of course, even if grammatology proved something of a cul-de-sac, Derrida’s most famous fragment: “Il n'y a pas de hors-texte” (literally “there is no outside-text”) endured to underpin deconstruction and postmodernism generally.  Intriguingly for a concept from linguistics, the phrase took on a new life in the English-speaking world where it came to be understood as “everything is text”, an interpretation which created a minor publishing industry.  In English, it’s a marvellously literalist use and while it does to an extent overlap with the author’s original intention, Derrida meant there is (1) no access to pure, unmediated presence and (2) no meaning outside interpretation and no experience outside context.  In using texte he was referring to the interplay of differences, traces, relations, and contexts that make meaning possible (ie not literally the words as they appear on a page).  What that meant was all acts were “textual” in that they must be interpreted and are intelligible only within systems of meaning; the phrase a philosophical statement about signification and mediation, not characters printed on page.

Fiveable's diagram of what we need to know to understand literature.  Hope this helps.

However, demonstrating (in another way) the power of language, the “everything is text”) movement (“cult” may once have been a better word) in English came to be understood as meaning no reality could exist beyond language; everything (literally!) is text because it is words and discourse which both construct and describe reality.  That notion might have remained in an obscure .ivory tower were it not for the delicious implication that values such as right & wrong and true & false are also pieces of text with meanings able to be constructed and deconstructed.  That meant there was no stable “truth” and nothing objectively was “wrong”; everything just a construct determined by time, place and circumstances.  That Derrida never endorsed this shocking relativism was noted by some but academics and students found so intoxicating the notion of right & wrong being variables that “everything is text” took on a life of its own as a kind of selective nihilism which is, of course, quite postmodern.  Again, language was responsible because the French texte was from the Latin textus, from texō (weave) and while in French it can mean “text” (in the English sense), among philosophers it was used metaphorically to suggest “weave together”; “an interconnected structure” in the sense of the Latin textus (woven fabric); it was this meaning Derrida used.  Had the English-speaking world remained true to the original spirit of Il n'y a pas de hors-texte it would have entered the textbooks as something like “There is nothing outside the interplay of signs and contexts; There is no meaning outside systems of interpretation” and perhaps have been forgotten but “everything is text” defined and seduced a movement.  Thus, it can be argued things either were “lost in translation” or “transformed by translation” but for the neo-Derridaists there’s the satisfaction of knowing the meaning shift was an example of “grammatology in action”.