Tuft

Tuft (pronounced tuhft)

(1) A bunch or cluster of small, usually soft and flexible parts, as feathers or hairs, attached or fixed closely together at the base and loose at the upper ends.

(2) A cluster of short, fluffy threads, used to decorate cloth, as for a bedspread, robe, bath mat, or window curtain.

(3) A cluster of cut threads, used as a decorative finish attached to the tying or holding threads of mattresses, quilts, upholstery, etc.

(4) To furnish or decorate with a tuft or tufts; to arrange in a tuft or tufts.

(5) In the upholstery trade, to draw together (a cushion or the like) by passing a thread through at regular intervals, the depressions thus produced being usually ornamented with tufts or buttons.  Tufts are not merely decorative because they secure and strengthen mattresses, quilts, cushions etc; they act to hinder the movement of the stuffing.

(6) In botany, a small clump of trees or bushes.

(7) A gold tassel on the cap once worn by titled undergraduates at English universities, one of the more blatant class identifiers if the UK’s class system; the word tuft was also applied to those entitled to wear such as tassel and from this use evolved the slang "toff".

1350-1400: From the Middle English toft & tofte (bunch of soft and flexible things fixed at the base with the upper ends loose), an alteration of earlier tuffe (which endures in the Modern English tuff), from the Old French touffe, tuffe, toffe & tofe (tuft of hair (and source of the modern French touffe)), from the Late Latin tufa (a crest on a helmet (also found in Late Greek toupha) and probably of Germanic origin (the Old High German was zopf and the Old Norse was toppr (tuft, summit).  The earlier European forms were the Old English þūf (tuft), the Old Norse þúfa (mound), the Swedish tuva (tussock; grassy hillock), from the Proto-Germanic þūbǭ (tube) & þūbaz.  It was akin to the Latin tūber (hump, swelling) and the Ancient Greek τῡ́φη (tū́phē) (cattail (used to stuff beds)).  The excrescent t (as in against) was an English addition and tuft was used as a verb from the 1530s.  In some contexts, bunch, cluster, collection, cowlick, group, knot, plumage, ruff, shock, topknot & tussock can impart a similar meaning but tuft is better for its specific purpose.  Tuft & tufting are nouns & verbs, tufted is a verb & adjective, tufter is a noun, tuftier & tuftiest are adjectives, tufty is a noun & adjective and tuftily is an adverb; the noun plural is tufts.

Little Miss Muffet in Hell (left) and with MWC's (Motor Wheel Corporation) Spyder wheel (right).  Because the use by European manufacturers lent the spelling "spyder with a y" a tinge of the exotic, it was used in US commerce, MWC of Lansing Michigan dubbing one of their "jellybean style" wheels thus.  The wheel, produced in the early 1970s, used the then popular technique of combining a styled aluminum center with a chromed steel rim.  MWC's wheels were highly regarded for quality and the Spyder was produced for use with disc or drum brakes.  Note the latter day Little Miss Muffet's strategic positioning of the tip of the tongue.

MWC's Spyder in its native environment: 1969 Ford Cobra Hardtop 428 Super Cobra Jet four-speed (one of 531 that year built in that configuration).

Introduced in 1969, the two-door Cobra (available as a notchback hardtop or Sportsroof (a two hardtop with a fastback roofline designed with the NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals where speeds were beginning to approach 200 mph (320 km/h)) was based on the intermediate platform and although the “Torino” name had in 1968 been introduced as an “upmarket Fairlane”, Ford only ever marketed the car as the “Ford Cobra” but despite that, subsequently it became common for it to be referred to as the “Fairlane Cobra” or “Torino Cobra”.  Ford muddied the waters by calling the Fairlane-based Sportsroofs used in NASCAR as “Torinos” and, although the cars used on the circuits were, like the Cobras, fitted with 7.0 litre V8s, they used either a 427 cubic inch “FE” (Ford-Edsel) unit or a 429 from the “385” (based on the 3.85 inch (98 mm) length of the stroke of the “base-line” 460 cubic inch (7.6 litre) version) family while the Cobras had some flavor of the 428 Cobra Jet.  The 428 Cobra Jet had been introduced in 1967 as a low-cost path to power and was built with drag racing in mind.  Although also from the FE family, the 428 was very different and didn’t include the many features (including cross-bolted main-bearings, the more oversquare configuration and the prioritized lubrication system) that had made the 427 so robust in the most demanding forms of competition (ie, those involving also turning corners).  By contrast, the “mix & match” 428 was more suited to low-cost mass-production and needed to endure only the stresses induced by travelling rapidly down drag strips a ¼-mile at a time.  That could of course be a mechanically extreme experience and blown engines were not uncommon but, in a straight line, a 428 Cobra Jet had a better life expectancy than would have been the case had it been run in an event like the Le Mans 24 Hour.

MWC Spyder on 1969 Ford Cobra Hardtop 428 Super Cobra Jet.

A whiff so scandal attaches to the 428 Cobra Jet and had the suffix been in use in 1968 when it debuted, the headlines would have been: “Cobra Jetgate”.  Ford rated the hotted-up 428 Cobra Jet at 335 HP (the mild-mannered versions used effortlessly to propel a luxury car like the Thunderbird was rated at 345!) and, at the time, the NHRA (National Hot Rod Association) allocated vehicles into classes based on a manufacturer’s rating so Ford’s team of six 428 Cobra Jet Mustangs at that year’s NHRA Winternationals proved dominant, winning several trophies, including the prestigious Super Stock Eliminator title.  Suddenly aware they’d been gamed, the HHRA cracked down, issuing their own ratings.  By 1969, Ford Cobra buyers could choose from the Cobra Jet or SCJ (Super Cobra Jet), the latter with strengthened internal components and an external oil-cooler; it was a single purpose vehicle available only with final-drive ratios of 3.91:1 or 4.30:1, gearing ideal for drag strips but few other places.  By then the FE was at the end of it development potential for passenger vehicles and although production continued into 1970 for the specially-configured “law-enforcement package”, emphasis switched to the 429 but its career as a high performance unit was short-lived as geopolitics and economics saw the universe shift.  The Boss 429 (1969-1970) and 429 SCJ (1969-1971) were the swansong of Ford’s original high-performance big block V8s. 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful 

The 1550s noun tuffet (little tuft) was from the Old French touffel (the diminutive suffix -et replacing the French -el) which was a diminutive of touffe.  In English the word is obsolete except for the use in the nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet which seems first to have appeared in print in 1805 although it (and variations) may have been circulating much earlier.  Etymologists believe Little Miss Muffet’s tuffet was a grassy hillock or a small knoll in the ground (a variant spelling of an obsolete meaning of tuft).  The latter-day use to refer to a hassock or footstool is an example of how (usually obscure) words can acquire meanings if erroneous definitions are often repeated and come to serve some purpose.  Tuffet for example became a favorite of antique dealers who are apt to call both footstools and low seats “tuffets”, a handy practice perhaps when provenance is doubtful.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Those whose fear of spiders (and other arachnids, such as scorpions and ticks) is so severe as to adversely affect normal life are said to be arachnophobic.  Although one of the most commonly described anxiety disorders, in the current edition (DSM-5-TR) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), arachnophobia is not a diagnostic category but is classified as a sub-type of Specific Phobia, Animal Type, a clinical diagnosis typically described as “Specific Phobia, Animal Type (spiders)”.  The DSM’s criteria for a specific phobia include (1) marked fear or anxiety about a specific object or situation, (2) immediate fear response on exposure, (3) active avoidance or intense distress, (4) fear disproportionate to the actual danger, (5) persistence (typically 6+ months) and (6) and clinically significant impairment or distress.  So, one who merely is not fond of spiders would not meet the DSM’s criteria; the fear must be severe enough to impair functioning or cause substantial distress over at least six months.  The irony is that as well as most spiders being small, non-venomous and not at all anxious to attack humans, co-existing with them and their webs in most cases will improve quality of life by culling the insect population.  For those not convinced, arachnophobia can be treated by a number of therapies including (1) systematic desensitization (a gradual exposure to the source of the distress), (2) the adoption of “calming techniques” which can lower the distress response and (3) CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), a structured, goal-oriented form of psychotherapy focusing on identifying and changing negative or dysfunctional thought patterns and behaviours.  The estimates vary but all research indicates well under 10% of the global population suffer arachnophobia to the extent a clinician would diagnose with women being significantly more affected.

Tufted furnishings aficionado Lindsay Lohan on tufted leather sofa (left) and in bed with tufted bedhead (right).

Critics of interior design tend not to approve of padded or tufted headboards and the shinier or more pillowy the effect, the greater will be the disparagement.  Such critics probably tend to prefer a minimalist aesthetic and condemn anything which doesn’t conform as outdated, excessive or just in poor taste but that aside, there are practical reasons to avoid the padding because the material can over time collect dust, dirt, and oils, something of concern to allergy sufferers.  The designs can also provide hiding places for the dreaded bed bugs.  Still, there are some who like the “generic luxury hotel room” look and argue they’re a kind of safety feature, banging one’s head on some tufted padding a less troubling event than an impact with one of Ikea’s hard, flat surfaces.  Like any bed, there are advantages and drawbacks, some thing made more comfortable, some close to impossible.

Nobleman in full dress at Cambridge (1815) with golden tuft.

The noun toff began as mid nineteenth century lower-class London slang for "a stylish dresser, a man of the smart set".  It was an alteration of tuft, which was a mid-eighteenth century English university (Oxford & Cambridge) term for students who were members of the aristocracy, a reference to the gold ornamental tassel (or tufts) worn on the academic caps (mortarboards) of undergraduates.  Throughout the “long eighteenth century” (a historian’s term which refers for the epoch running from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 to the Congress of Vienna in 1815 (the “long nineteenth” being 1815-1914 and the “long twentieth” 1914-2001 (ie 9/11))), undergraduates at both Oxford and Cambridge were differentiated into four classes: (1) noblemen, (2) gentlemen, (3) commoner-scholars (fellow-commoners at Cambridge) & (4) servitors (sometimes known at Cambridge as sizars and at Oxford as battelers).  Each of these classes of undergraduates was entitled to a different form of dress, noblemen since 1490 (further clarified in 1576) entitled to wear silk and brocaded gowns of bright colors. Such rich materials emphasized noble status, as did the costly dyes. The gowns had flap collars, Tudor bag sleeves with gold lace decorations (akin to the black lace decorations used today on Oxford gimp gowns) and a velvet round cap with a gold tassel (or tuft) was worn.  Noblemen were technically (if misleadingly) nobiles minorum gentium and included the sons of bishops, knights and baronets and, by resolution of Convocation, could include heirs of esquires.

The right to wear the golden tuft was briefly restricted to those with fathers entitled to sit in the House of Lords while those less blue-blooded were allowed only to a plain black tassel but things gradually became less exclusive until the practice was abandoned in the late nineteenth century but the transfer of sense was inevitable: wearers of golden tufts came to be known as tufts.  Those toadies or sycophants (and there were many) who were slavish followers of the tufts were tufthunters and their antics, tufthunting, such individuals and their habits quite identifiable to this day.  By the 1850s, under the influence of the cockney accent, the word had been transformed into toff (some dictionaries of slang noting toft co-existed in the 1850s but this may have been a mishearing) which endures to refer to anyone rich and powerful although the original sense was of someone apparently well-bred.

1912 Stutz Bear Cat (1912-1934); after 1913 they would be dubbed Bearcat (left) and 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost (Chassis 2BD, 40/50; 1906-1926) limousine by H.A. Hamshaw (right).

One of the fastest and most admired American cars of the early era, the Stutz Bearcat assumed such a place in popular culture, it was was claimed that should anyone die (except by suicide) at the wheel of a Stutz Bearcat, they were granted an obituary in the New York Times (NYT).  Wholly apocryphal, the origin of the romantic myth is thought to be related to the Bearcat being a symbol of wealth, adventure, and daring, owned by the sort of chaps (such a lifestyle at the time was most associated with men although women adventurers were not unknown) who would likely anyway warrant an NYT obituary.  The Bear Cat's tufted leather upholstery was typical (though not universal) of the high priced automobiles of the time although already, elaborate fabrics were appearing in vehicles with enclosed passenger compartments which afforded protection from the elements.  The appointments of 1915 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost were opulent even by the coachbuilding standards of the day (the Edwardian traditions still maintained) but the chauffeur's compartment lacked a roof (the body style really a Sedanca de Ville as were many of the early English "limousines") so was still trimmed in tufted leather.  The more sheltered passengers enjoyed carved ivory door handles, beveled glass windows, cut crystal lamps, an inlaid wood folding table, two jump seats, and door pockets, communications to the chauffeur via a tubular intercom.  The lavish upholstery in the rear was tufted, beige West-of-England cloth with embroidered silk window pulls and trim-work, including rear compartment shades and sliding divider although what usually attracts most comment is the elegant, pleated, cloth rosette headliner with its cloudlike billows.   To make journeys more pleasant, a set of leather-wrapped flasks was mounted in the right rear armrest.

1908 Hotchkiss 16-20 hp Type T Roi des Belges (King of the Belgians) Touring Car with tufted red leather (right) and 1917 Packard Twin Six Touring Car with channel tufted black leather (left).  The term “touring car” was never exactly defined and use varied between UK & US manufacturers but typically it described a large, four-door, 4-6 seat open car, supplied with a folding top and (usually optional) temporary side curtains.  The style went extinct but did fork into the phaeton (no top or side-windows) and the four-door cabriolet (or convertible) (a folding top and retractable side windows).  However, even by the 1930s, the old coachwork terms from the days of horse-drawn vehicles had come to be used with such imprecision the descriptions were sometimes little more than vaguely indicative and in the post-war years they meant whatever manufacturers at the time wanted them to mean.

In the matter of upholstery, the word “tufted” has long been synonymous with “deep buttoned” but in the early days of the automobile. Coach-builders and upholsters would offer the option of “channel tufted” trim which essentially was “tufting without the buttons” although it seems almost always to have been executed only with parallel seams (ie nothing on the diagonal).  Probably because what would now be understood as a “pleated” style was more comfortable for sitting on in a moving object, it became popular in the 1920s.  Of course, what the machinists called the “straight tuck-roll” technique was less labour intensive and used smaller quantities of materials so interiors could be trimmed at lower cost so the incentive was there to make the switch.  The revival of button-tufting in the late twentieth century was not an exercise in mere nostalgia but an expression of conspicuous consumption, the “obviously expensive” look making tufting in the big US cars something of a Veblen good.   

1972 Oldsmobile Ninety Eight Regency advertising.

Tufted leather upholstery was common in early automobiles, the seating often exactly the same as those used in horse-drawn carriages, houses or commercial buildings (and certainly gentlemen's clubs).  The practice faded as production volumes increased and as early as the late 1920s was coming to be restricted to only the most expensive models.  This exclusivity tended to prevail until 1972 when Oldsmobile introduced the Regency option for its full-sized Ninety-Eight (sometimes as "98") models, a package, the visual highlight of which was tufted "loose-pillow" velour upholstery (although unlike the use in furniture where the "pillows" were detachable for cleaning, in the Ninety-Eight they were fixed permanently to the seats.  Suddenly, solidly middle-class Oldsmobile (right in the middle of General Motors’ (GM) five-step (Chevrolet-Pontiac-Oldsmobile-Buick-Cadillac) hierarchy; the so-called "Slone ladder" designed to both facilitate and encourage "upward automotive mobility" conceived by Alfred P Sloan (1875–1966;  president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946)) had brought both velour and loose-pillow seating to the masses.  The velour was at the time admired by most buyers (though derided by some critics of design) and as tufted upholstery began to proliferate in the industry it was usually offered as a cheaper alternative to leather.  In some climates the velour was probably the better choice and was welcomingly comfortable although in some of the more strident shades of red could recall the popular idea of how a bordello might be furnished.  Presumably, those who'd never enjoyed a visit to a bordello were more disconcerted than regular customers.

1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop (left) in chestnut tufted leather though not actually “rich Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos, reminding people cars sometimes crash.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.

1977 Chrysler (Australia) Valiant Regal SE.

In the era, Chrysler's Australian outpost did cut a few corners when implementing the “pillowed look”, economies achieved by (1) using fewer buttons for the tufting of the fabric or optional leather and (2) attaching the tufted “feature sections” directly to the cushion squab rather than creating an emulated “pillowed” look which appeared to sit atop the structure.  Even by the time of the release of the CL range (1976-1978) the feeling was the writing was on the wall for the once popular Australian Valiant (1962-1981) and the top-of-the-line Regal SE was created in the time-honored Q&D (quick & dirty) way by including all the less Regal’s options as standard equipment; only the tufted upholstery and optional leather was unique to the model.  Sales were modest but there remained devoted following for the Valiant which was durable enough to endure the sometimes harsh environment and it was highly regarded for its towing capabilities, equipped either with the lusty locally-developed 265 cubic inch (4.3 litre) straight-6 or the imported 318 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8.  Built on the US A-body platform, when production ended in 1981 it had lasted a half-decade longer than the Plymouth and Dodge versions sold in the home market and only in Mexico would use continue until 1988.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman.

Oldsmobile's move was as audacious and influential as Ford’s introduction in 1965 of the up-market LTD which, like the Regency package, had the effect of cannibalizing sales from other divisions within the same corporation.  Cadillac, although with a range priced considerably above Oldsmobile, offered nothing with such an ostentatious interior though when it did in 1974 respond with its Talisman package (1974-1976), it made sure it did so with more tufted extravagance still, in 1974 offering leather as well as velour.  The trend the Regency package started would last over twenty years and is remembered especially for the tufted fittings used in Imperials, Chryslers and Dodges, the hides used in the Cordoba range (1975-1983) said to be "rich Corinthian leather", an advertising agency creation which meant nothing in particular but sounded vaguely European and therefore expensive.

1985 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (left), 1977 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (centre) and 1989 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham d' Elegance (right).

Color choice made a big difference to the perception of the "tufted look", more subdued hues like green and blue less confronting than the "bordello red" which became emblematic of the industry's phase.  Cadillac called the fabric in the Fleetwood Talisman "Medici crushed velour" which had about the same relationship to historic truth as "fine Corinthian leather" but the package sold well over the three seasons it was offered, despite the option costing almost as much (and the leather significantly more) as some new cars.  Among collectors, the holy grail is a 1974 Fleetwood Talisman trimmed in blue leather; although it was on the option list, none has ever been sighted and the factory's records don't breakdown production between the blue and the alternative "medium saddle" (a medium tan), some of which have been verified.

Japan

Japan (pronounced juh-pan)

(1) A constitutional monarchy (the sovereign still styled as an emperor although the empire was dissolved in 1945) on an archipelago of islands off the east coast of Asia.  It's known also as Nihon or Nippon (initial upper case)

(2) As Sea of Japan, the part of the Pacific Ocean between Japan and mainland Asia (initial upper case).

(3) Any of various hard, durable, black varnishes, originally from Japan and used for coating wood, metal, or other surfaces; work varnished and figured in the Japanese manner; the liquid used for this purpose and within the class lacquerware.

(4) As Japans, a variety of decorative motifs or patterns derived from Asian sources, used on English porcelain of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (initial upper case).

(5) Of or relating to Japan, Japans or japanning.

1570s: From the Portuguese Japão, acquired in Malacca from Malay (Austronesian) Japang & Jepang, from Chinese jih pun (literally "sunrise" and equivalent to the Japanese Nippon), the construct being jih (sun) + pun (origin).  The connection to “sunrise” is in Japan lying to the east of China and the sun rising in the east.  The earliest forms in Europe were Marco Polo's Chipangu & Cipangu, variants of some form of synonymous Sinitic (日本國) (nation of Japan).  The verb japan (to coat with lacquer or varnish in the manner of Japanese lacquer-work) dates from the 1680s and immediately begat the noun japanning and the verb and adjective japanned.  The noun japonaiserie (art objects made in the Japanese style) was borrowed in 1896 from the French, which came to be described as japonism (an influence of Japanese art and culture on European art and design).  Although the lacquers used weren't exclusively black, it was the most widely-used finish and in the West "japanned" took on the slang sense of "ordained into the priesthood".  Japan (used with initial capital) is a proper noun, japan is a noun & verb, japannery, japanware & japanner are nouns, japanning is a noun & verb, japanned & Japanize are verbs and Japanesque, Japanesey, Japanesish & Japanish are adjectives; the noun plural is japans.  

In botany, the noun japonica was a species name from the New Latin and described a number of plants originally native to Japan, notably a species of camellia (Camellia japonica) and a sub-species of the rice Oryza sativa.  The Latin form was a feminine of japonicus (Japanese, of Japan), from Japon, a variant of Japan with a vowel closer to the Japanese name.  The adjective Japanese (Iapones) was known in the 1580s and by circa 1600 was a noun, the meaning extending to "the Japanese language" by 1828.  The remarkably destructive Japanese beetle was documented in 1919, the species accidentally introduced to the US in larval stage in a shipment of Japanese iris unloaded in the port of Los Angeles in 1916.  Japlish (unidiomatic English in Japan) dates from 1960s and describes the often ad-hoc linguistic code-switching on the model of Spanglish.

English Queen Anne japanned writing bureau desk with claw & ball feet, circa 1793.

The sense of the process of “costing with lacquer or varnish" in the manner of Japanese lacquer-work, is from the 1680s, the derived forms being japanned & japanning, hence also the French creation of japonaiserie (1896), adopted also, japanned furniture being almost always black, in the slang sense of "ordained into the priesthood".  The association in Europe of black being the color of the the garb of the lower orders of Roman Catholic clergy wasn’t universal but sufficiently prevalent for it to be the general motif in the depiction of the breed.  Adolf Hitler, a lapsed Catholic who extended the Church a grudging admiration as an institution which had lasted two-thousand odd years and still exerted a pull over many aspects of people's lives with which the Nazi Party couldn’t compete, called priests “those black crows”, adding “I know them very well” 

French Louis XVI japanned & ormolu Sevres porcelain writing desk, circa 1860.

The adjective Japanesque is attested from 1853.  It developed on both sides of the Atlantic to refer both to the aesthetic inspired by Japanese influence and (a little superfluously) original items from Japan.  The greater awareness after 1853 followed US Navy Commodore Matthew Perry (1794–1858) sailing that year to Japan to secure the opening to American trade, by negotiation if possible and through gunboat diplomacy if not.  The aim of US policy was to end the 250-odd years of national seclusion by Japan; without access to Japan and its markets, the US penetration into east-Asia really wasn’t possible.  The motives of the US were a mixture of commercial hunger and the missionary instincts of those anxious to bring (ie impose) the influences of Christianity and the western way of life; since 1853, that project has played-out with ups and downs for both sides.  The notion of the Japanesque was applied to a variety of objects including ceramics, lace, painting, carving and metalwork and was not of necessity associated with the lacquering process.  Japanese was noted as an adjective in the 1580s though may have been used earlier, in parallel with “Japan”.  As a noun, the first use seems to have been in 1828 in the context of “the Japanese language”.  Japlish, the noun meaning “unidiomatic English in Japan" was first noted in 1960 reflecting (1) the intrusion of US English words and phrases into the language proper and (2) a hybridised form of the language combining both although, despite the post-war years of US occupation, the English influence on Japanese was less than on many languages.  One obscure curiosity from 1819 was camellia, a Modern Latin feminised variant of japonicus (Japanese, of Japan), from Japon, a variant of Japan with a vowel closer to the Japanese name.

Lindsay Lohan, Japanese-edition magazine covers.

Giapan was first attested in English in Richard Willes's The History of Travayle in the West and East Indies (1577) in which was mentioned a translation of a letter written in 1565 which spoke of the “Ilande of Giapan”.  Like the modern Japan, Japonia was derived from the Portuguese Japão, from the Malay Jepang, from the Sinitic (日本), probably from an earlier stage of the modern Cantonese 日本 (Jat6-bun2) or Min Nan (日本) (Ji̍t-pún), from the Middle Chinese 日本 (Nyit-pwón, literally “origin of the sun”).  Related were the Mandarin 日本 (Rìběn), the Japanese 日本 (Nippon, Nihon), the Korean 일본 (Ilbon) and the Vietnamese Nhật Bản.

These notes are very much an Eurocentric scratch of the etymological surface. Japan is the exonym (an external name for a place, people or language used by foreigners instead of the native-language version) familiar to most and exonyms are not uncommon but the history of the names used to describe the construct of Japan is longer and with more forks than most.  Indeed, even within Japan, the debate about the use of Nippon, Nihon and Japan is multi-faceted and tied to influences social, political and historical, the arguments sometimes part of debates about the role of nationalism.

JAL Logo.

Japan has two airlines operating on both domestic and international routes and while that's hardly unusual, word nerds might be tempted to wonder if there’s any cultural or political significance in one being called ANA (All Nippon Airways) and one JAL (Japan Airlines).  JAL was created in 1951 as one of the state-backed national enterprises the Japanese government formed as part of the project of “kick-starting” the economy in the post-war years.  In a sense it was something like what would now be called a PPP (public-private partnership) but in 1953 JAL was wholly nationalized, becoming a “national carrier” on the model many countries in the era used for their “flag carrier” airlines.  Commencing operations in 1953 after having been founded as a private company the previous year, ANA traded initially as JHA (Japan Helicopter and Aeroplane) before in 1958 adopting the name ANA.  In the way things were then done (witness the cozy domestic duopoly the Australian government maintained between TAA (Trans-Australian Airlines) and Ansett), for decades the Japanese government effectively divided the market with JAL flying most international routes while ANA focused on domestic services, a historical division that to this day still colors perceptions of their nature.

ANA logo.

It appears dubious the choice of “Japan” and “Nippon” in the names of airlines had any significance beyond the usual processes with which brand names are chosen although, drawing a long bow, one can see why such a theory might have emerged.  “Japan” was the English exonym (the name for the country in international English) and JAL was the predominant international carrier so, it could be concluded, because “Japan Airlines” internationally was legible, JAL was “outward-facing”.  “Nippon” (日本, Nippon or Nihon) was the native Japanese name (literally “origin of the sun” or “sun source”), thus the popular use “Land of the Rising Sun.”  Still drawing on the bow, because ANA’s Japanese name was Zen Nippon Kūyu (全日本空輸) (literally “All Nippon Air Transport”), that could be interpreted as ANA being rooted in domestic culture and thus more explicitly Japanese in identity.

1961 Jaguar Mark 2 3.8.

The truth unfortunately seems be more prosaic.  According to the company history (publication of such things a Japanese tradition), the suggestion to use “All Japan Airways” had reached the JHA board but, understandably, it was judged too similar to “Japan Airlines” so “All Nippon Airways” was instead adopted.  Such an origin story is not unknown in commerce.  In the UK, when Jaguar introduced the Mark VII (1950-1956), it replaced the Mark V (1948-1951), there being no Mark VI because the company wanted to avoid marketplace confusion with the then current Bentley Mark VI (1946-1952).  As an aside, Jaguar’s use of “Mark this and that” was a tangled business.  The Mark IV was named thus only after the release of the Mark V; prior to that the range (1936-1940 by SS Cars (from the original Standard Swallow)) & 1945-1949 (as Jaguar)) had been badged and marketed as the 1½ litre, 2½ litre & 3½ litre.  There was never a Mark I, II or III and whether the company ever contemplated retrospectively applying the designations to earlier iterations seems not documented.  Anyway, it never was done but Jaguar wasn’t done with Marks.  Their smaller saloon was sold between 1955-1959 and named “2.4” & “3.8” (the larger engine introduced in 1957) but when this model was revised for a 1959 release, it was designated Mark 2 (the Roman numerals never used) and, in one form or another, these were sold until 1969.  Because that car had been dubbed “Mark 2”), the original 2.4 & 3.4 came to be styled “Mark 1” but although widely used, this was never adopted by the factory.  Concurrent with all that, the Mark VII was updated as the Mark VIII (1956-1958) & Mark IX (1958-1961) before being replaced by the radically different Mark X (1961-1966).  In 1966, Jaguar gave up, use of “Mark” abandoned with the revised Mark X becoming the 420G (1966-1970).  Beginning in 1968, subsequent model revisions were denoted by “Series” (S1, S2 etc) rather then “Mark”.

2005-2009 second-generation Mitsuoka Viewt.

The second generation Viewt was based on the Nissan Micra/March K12 platform.  In production since 1993, the Viewt is Mitsuoka's take on the Jaguar Mark 2 and is probably the best known of the company's many “retro re-imaginings” of JDM (Japanese domestic market) vehicles.  Other Mitsuoka have (loosely) be based on British machines from the 1950s & 1960s by Bentley and Vanden Plas but there are also been ventures referencing Japanese models and cars from the US including the Dodge Challenger and Chevrolet's Blazer & Corvette. 

There seems no historic or sociological significance to the use of either “Mark or “Series”, both terms remaining widely used by the car industry but use of “Nippon” seems more nuanced.  In Japanese use, Nihon is said to be the more common everyday pronunciation while Nippon is heard more in ceremonial or institutional use, the latter frequently applied to national sports teams, stamps, banknotes and corporations (Nippon Steel, Nippon Denso, NTT (Nippon Telegraph and Telephone) etc.  According to surveys of passengers (a very well studied cohort), both ANA and JAL are rated among the world’s best airlines for comfort, service, food, reliability and such with the former said to be “slightly more understated, meticulous with an “obviously” “Japanese” service culture” while JAL, although still “distinctively Japanese”, is closer in its in-flight practices to international conventions.  As a final, minor linguistic note, native Japanese tend not to refer to the airlines as JAL or ANA in their English pronunciation, but by abbreviations derived from the Japanese names: JAL Nikkō (日航) & ANA Zennikkū (全日空).

On the tarmac.

In 2021 the Japanese government tried to nudge JAL & ANA to merge, citing the difficulties the airlines were enduring as a consequence of the COVID-19 pandemic.  In truth, the economic rationalists in the Japanese Treasury had for some time wished the two would combine operations and the virus was just convenient cover.  What the bureaucrats knew was it was only a matter of time before there would be a crisis in the industry which would be cured in the way which has become a tradition in modern Japan: The government would give the airlines money.  By mid 2026, Japan’s national debt had reached some US$10 trillion which is around 235% of GDP (Gross Domestic Product), the highest ratio among developed nations.  That sounds a serious problem but the argument is Japan is a “special case” because some 88% of the debt is denominated in Yen, the Bank of Japan holding nearly half.  Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen but thus far, it remains business as usual.  By contrast the US national debt stands at US$38 trillion-odd (in excess of 124% of GDP (gross domestic product), compared with the 113% reached in 1946 after borrowing to fund much of the allied effort in World War II (1939-1945)) and despite predictions in the past there may be “psychological thresholds” (US$10 trillion, US$20 trillion etc), things continued and it may be a debt number of US$50 or US$100 trillion attracts a similar reaction.  There was a time when a US$38 trillion national debt would have been thought at least a “problem” and probably a “crisis” but now it seems accepted as the “new normal” and as well as the US, the whole world economy now depends on this method of operation, the rationale apparently that, if need be, the US Treasury could mint a single US$40 trillion coin and declare a “net debt-free” status.  Economists seem divided on the implications of such a minting but the lawyers are at one in declaring it constitutional so, there too the “borrow & spend” model remains business as usual.

Surplus

Surplus (pronounced sur-pluhs)

(1) Something that remains above what is used or needed.

(2) In agricultural economics, produce or a quantity of food grown by a nation or area in excess of its needs, especially such a quantity of food purchased and stored by a governmental program of guaranteeing farmers a specific price for certain crops.

(3) In accounting, the excess of assets over liabilities accumulated throughout the existence of a business, excepting assets against which stock certificates have been issued; excess of net worth over capital-stock value.

(4) In public finance, an excess of government revenues over expenditures during a certain financial year.

(5) In international trade, an excess of receipts over payments on the balance of payments.

(6) In economic theory, an unsold quantity of a good resulting from a lack of equilibrium in a market.  For example, if a price is artificially high, sellers will bring more goods to the market than buyers will be willing to buy.  In classical economics, the opposite of shortage.

(7) In Chancery law (and its successor courts), the remainder of a fund appropriated for a particular purpose.

1325–1375: From the Middle English surplus, from the Old French sorplus (remainder, extra), from the Medieval Latin superplūs (excess, surplus), the construct being super (over) + plūs (more).  The Italian surplus was a borrowing from modern French where surplus had existed since the twelfth century while in English, surplus has been used as an adjective since the fourteenth century.  Enjoying the same pronunciation, surplice and surplus are often confused.  A surplice is a liturgical vestment of the Christian Church, usually styled as a tunic of white linen or cotton material, with wide sleeves and often some lace embellishment or embroidered edges.  Lengths vary; in medieval times it reached almost to the ground but tends now to be shorter; some still retain the longer garments for the ceremonial.  As surplis, it was a thirteenth century Middle-English borrowing from the Anglo-French surpliz, a syncopated variant of Old French surpeliz, derived from the Medieval Latin superpellīcium (vestīmentum) over-pelt (garment), neuter of superpellīcius, the construct being super (over) + pellīt(us) (clothed with skins or fur) + -ius (the adjectival suffix).  A clerical surplice is thus a kind of frock; a clerical surplus means "too many priests".  Surplus is a noun, adjective & verb, surplusage is a noun and surplused & surplussing are verbs; the noun plural is surpluses or surplusses.

Surplus Repression

German-American Herbert Marcuse (1898–1979), a sociologist and philosopher, highly influential in the mid-late twentieth century.  Even today, Marcuse enjoys a cult following and remains a hate-figure for those on the right who trace the ills of Western civilization to the corrosive influence Marxist & neo-Marxists exerted on youth in the newly expanded universities in the 1960s & 1970s.

A critique of capitalism’s culture and economic arrangements, Marcuse's book Eros and Civilization (1955) drew, inter alia, from Karl Marx (1818-1883) and Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) and described an alternative structure for society.  He didn’t reject Freud’s idea that repression of man's instinctive desires was necessary for civilization to endure but Marcuse distinguished between basic (or necessary) repression and surplus repression, detailing the differences between the biological vicissitudes of the instincts and the socially imposed.  His construct was that basic repression was that which man suppresses to permit peaceful societies to form; repression or modification of the instincts being necessary “…for the perpetuation of the human race in civilization.”  Surplus repression meant those “…restrictions necessitated by [the] social domination” of the particular ruling-class or hegemony.  The purpose of surplus repression was to shape the instincts of individuals to conform to the requirements of modern capitalism, a surrender to what Marcuse called the “performance principle”, a construct building on Marx’s theories of alienation and surplus value.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, 2011.

Marcuse's writing did have the attraction of being more accessible than that of Marx or Freud (and certainly that of many neo-Marxists or Freudians) but that also meant it was easier for critics to cherry pick the points they found most objectionable.  For an explanation of why society need to be organized the way it was, conservatives seemed to prefer the rationalization of the "harsh but deliciously clever" English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) best known for his book Leviathan (1651) in which appeared the memorable passage describing the life of man in a world where there existed no restraining authorities forcing people to repress their worst instincts:

In such condition, there is no place for industry; because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

Such a culture Hobbes called the "state of nature" by which he meant not an environmentally sustainable hippie commune but a place in which there was "bellum omnium contra omnes" (war of all against all) and murder went unpunished except by another murder.  Although the distinction is now an unfashionable one to draw, conservatives liked the way Hobbes seemed to know not all cultures were civilizations and that a little surplus repression was a small price to pay for for its benefits.  Hobbes lived through troubled times and his views on the importance of stable, strong governance should be understood as the writings of one who had seen what the alternative looks like but as a list of exculpatory bullet-points, his world view was one which could be ticked off by by the ayatollahs in Tehran or the CCP (Chinese Communist Party).  Marcuse is not so transportable.

Peace man: PotM (Playmate of the Month) Debbie Ellison (b 1949) on the cover of Playboy magazine, September 1970.  That year's PotY (Playmate of the Year) was Sharon Clark (b 1943).  With due respect to Ms Ellison, sometimes, it really may have been bought for the articles: Michael G Horowitz's profile of Marcuse was published in this edition.  The old curmudgeon of the left wouldn’t have had much sympathy for hippies and their piece sign because neither appeared to be doing much to bring on the revolution and was anyway once heard to remark: “Ach, women!  Useless in a revolutionary situation!”

Playboy titled the profile Portrait of the Marxist as an Old Trooper although the author (one of the philosopher's old students) preferred to call the piece a "personality snapshot" and it certainly had a different flavor than what would have been found in the activist press or journals of political science.  Years later, the author would concede some of his critique of Marcuse's work was misplaced and many of the old pessimist's predictions had (unfortunately) transpired.  That said, Marcuse seems never to have complained about the piece, unlike Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) whose interview by Eric Norden, conducted over an apparently convivial ten days in the “richly furnished living room of his spacious home” in Heidelberg, was published in Playboy’s June 1971 edition.  Speer would later complain the piece had been “…restructured, with words and formulations entirely foreign to me.”  He did however conclude “…on the whole the interview as printed corresponds with my opinions…” by which he meant Nordon was yet another to accept an recycle his core position: “If I didn't see it [the Holocaust], then it was because I didn't want to see it.”  That was the so-called “Billigung defense” which Speer since 1945 had, in a masterful manner, used simultaneously to accept a collective guilt yet absolve himself of individuality responsibility.  Others no more guilty but less cunning had been hanged at Nuremberg and the Playboy interview was printed years before material was discovered in the German federal archives documenting his part in the persecution of Jews and the unearthing of private correspondence in which he admitted knowledge of the holocaust and its awful, chilling rationale.  As one of his biographers, Gitta Sereny (1921–2012), rightly pointed out in Albert Speer: His Battle with Truth (1995): “If Speer had said as much in Nuremberg, he would have been hanged.”

Marcuse’s work was acknowledged as a landmark in the synthetization of Marxist and psychoanalytic theories but was criticized for being just another of the "pointless utopian myths" written of since antiquity, work cut adrift from the moorings of the political reality which seemed in the 1960s more urgently to demand attention.  Marcuse acknowledged the distance of his work from reality and conceded his theories could reach actualization only by revolution or gradual infiltration of the structures of the power-elite and, after the disappointments of the moments in 1968 when revolution fleetingly was in the air, he preferred the latter.  German student activist Rudi Dutschke (1940–1979) had advocated a "…march through the institutions of power", radically to change society from within government and cultural institutions by becoming part of the machinery and structures under which capitalism operated.  This too owed a debt to the theories of hegemony and Marcuse wrote to Dutschke in 1971 saying he “regarded your notion of the "march through the institutions" as the only effective way.”  It all failed.  It was the highly unusual coincidence of political, economic & demographic circumstances in the post war (1948-1973) Western world which briefly in 1968 made the system seem internally vulnerable and the hegemony learned the lesson: they would control who manned the institutions that matter and the trouble-makers could march through things like theatre trusts, literary festivals and art gallery committees.