Director

Director (pronounced dih-rek-ter or dahy-rek-ter)

(1) A person or thing that directs others or other things (Director of Engineering, Director of Sales etc).

(2) In corporate law, one of a group of persons chosen to control or govern the affairs of a company or corporation, usually as a member of a board of directors and sometimes also including executive functions.

(3) The person responsible for the interpretive aspects of a stage, film, or television production; the person who supervises the integration of all the elements, as acting, staging, lighting etc.

(4) In musical or other artistic productions (stage, art galleries, opera etc) one in charge of all artistic (and sometimes administrative) matters (in larger operations the roles sometimes specialized: sound director, script director etc).

(5) The manager or chief executive of certain schools, institutes, government bureaux etc.

(6) In military use, a mechanical or electronic device that continuously calculates firing data for use against an airplane or other moving target, configured usually graphically to display (in real-time) the targets of a weapons system.

(7) In chemistry, the common axis of symmetry of the molecules of a liquid crystal.

(8) In music, a synonym for conductor (US use, now less common).

(9) A counsellor, confessor, or spiritual guide (now less common).

1470-1480: The construct was direct(us) + -or.  A borrowing in the sense of “a guide” from the Anglo French directour & the French directeur the agent noun from the Latin dirigere (set straight, arrange; give a particular direction to) and its source, the Late Latin directorem, from the Latin dīrectus, the perfect passive participle of dīrigō (straighten, direct), the construct being dis- (asunder, in pieces, apart, in two) + regō (to direct, to guide, keep straight; make straight; rule), from the primitive Indo-European root reg (move in a straight line).  The -or suffix was from the Middle English -our, from the Old French -eor, from the Latin -ātor and reinforced by the Old French -or and its source, the Latin -tor & -tōrem.  It was used to create an agent noun, often from a verb, indicating a person or object (often machines or parts of them) that do the verb or part of speech with which they are formed.  In electrical engineering it has the specific use of being appended to the names of members of classes of components, especially those that have an extensive property name of the same root suffixed with -ance (eg to convey the sense that resistors possess resistance and inductors possess inductance).  The alternative spelling directour became rare in the late eighteenth century and is long obsolete.  Director, directorate & directorship are nouns, directing is a verb, directed is a verb & adjective, directorial is an adjective and directorially is an adverb; the noun plural is directors.  The feminine forms of the noun (directress & directrix) were always rare and are now thought extinct (and by some probably proscribed).

Lindsay Lohan with Spanish fashion designer Estrella Arch (b 1974), on the catwalk, Emanuel Ungaro's Spring-Summer show, Paris, October 2009.  Ms Lohan was employed as a creative director at the House, founded in 1965 by French fashion designer Emanuel Ungaro (1933–2019).

The noun director (corporate sense of “one of a number of persons having authority to manage the affairs of a company” was known as early as the 1630s; the theatrical sense of “the leader of a company of performers” dates from 1911 and it was from here the use was picked up by those in charge of the artistic or technical aspects of movie-making.  The noun directorship (condition or office of a director) has been in use since the 1720s, the adjective directorial known since 1770.  The noun directorate was used first in 1834 of “a body of directors” and may immediately have be used individually of the “office of a director” but this was certainly first documented in 1837.  Director is a word defined both by its history of use (film director, director of football etc) and law (company director) so although titles like supervisor, head, manager, leader, administrator, chief, boss etc certainly implies “one who directs”, they’re traditionally not used as direct synonyms because “director” is a “loaded word”.  It’s also modified as needed (art director, managing director, sub-director etc).

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with "Mobile Director Package"; note the rearward facing front passenger seat.  

Although the brand had since the 1920s been used for some of Chrysler's more expensive lines, between 1955-1975, the corporation re-created Imperial as a separate, stand-alone division (albeit with some intra-corporate sharing of engines, transmissions and certain other components), the way Ford positioned Lincoln (GM's (General Motors) Cadillac then still with unique engines although much else was shared).  In the early years, the approach yielded some success (most notably with the dramatic 1957 models) but the separation didn’t survive the troubled decade of the 1970s (by which time the platform and body-shells were shared with the other divisions and much of the earlier distinctiveness had been surrendered); a couple of subsequent, half-heated, revivals proved abortive.

Bowing to economic reality, the Imperial in 1967-1968 had switched from the separate frame used since 1955 to the unitary construction of the full-sized ranges offered by other divisions but maintained a certain degree of difference by virtue of a unique body, albeit one with dimensions slightly reduced (not seen by all as a virtue at a time when things were again trending larger).  While styled with an elegance derived from its simplicity of line, the Imperial continued to not quite match the timeless modernity of the Lincoln or the indefinable but incomparable allure of the Cadillac and although sales did improve in 1967, volumes were only ever a fraction of its two competitors.  The basic engineering though was sound, the TorqueFlite 727 transmission as responsive and robust as any (although it didn’t quite slur as effortlessly between ratios as the Cadillac’s TH400 Turbo-Hydramatic 400) while the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 was a notch better, something the others wouldn’t match until 1968.  Significantly, reviewers at the time often were prepared to acknowledge the Imperial was the more capable road car although, given it operated in a market where quietness and isolation from the environment were afforded more of a premium than handling prowess, among potential buyers, any perception of real-world advantage probably was marginal.

The more stylish if less roadable opposition: 1967 Cadillac Coupe DeVille (left) & 1967 Lincoln Continental Coupe (right).

In those years however, the Imperial did offer something truly unique.  The “Mobile Director Package” was available exclusively on the Imperial Crown Coupe and reflected (within the limits of what the available technology would then permit) what Chrysler thought a company director would most value in an automobile being used as a kind of “office on the move”, including (1) an extendable walnut-topped table (secured to the floor by a stainless-steel stanchion) able to be unfolded over the rear seats, (2) a Tensor high-intensity lamp with a gooseneck mount enabling the light to be directed anywhere in the cabin and, most intriguingly (3) a front passenger seat mounted on swivelling base enabling it to rotate 180°, the apparatus permitting someone comfortably to use the table and interact with those in the rear.  Conveniently, in a sign of the times, the car was supplied with four cigarette lighters and the lamp could be plugged into whichever was closest to need.  The package was available only for those two seasons and in its first years cost US$597.40 (some US$6,000 adjusted for 2026 values) but only 81 buyers ticked the option box and even reducing the price the next season to US$317.60 did little to stimulate demand; only 70 ordered as a dismal swansong.  Even if the threat of new safety regulations hadn’t been looming, it’s doubtful the Mobile Director Package would have appeared on the option list for 1969 when the new “fuselage” Imperials debuted.

Imperial's advertising always emphasised the "business" aspect of the package but the corporation also circulated a photograph of the table supporting a (presumably magnetic) chessboard and another with silver compote holding a shiny red apple and a bunch of grapes, dangling seductively.  The latter may have been to suggest the utility of the package when stopping for a picnic with one's secretary; at an advertising agency, once someone suggested using the motif of "forbidden fruit", nobody would have been able to resist.

The advertising copy at the time claimed the package was “designed for the busy executive who must continue his work while he travels”, serving also as “an informal conference lounge”.  The Imperial was a big car (previous generations had been larger still) though “lounge” was a bit of a stretch but “truth in advertising” laws were then not quite as onerous as they would become.  More accurate were the engineering details, the table able to “pivot to any of four different positions, supported by a sturdy chrome-plated pillar and in the forward position, it can convert into a padded armrest between the two front seats while extended, it opens out to twice its original size with a lever on the table swivel support to permit adjustments to the height”.  It was noted “a special tool is used for removing the table and storing it in the trunk” the unstated implication presumably that in deference to the secretary’s finger-nails, that would be a task for one’s chauffeur.  The US$597.40 the option listed at in 1967 needs to be compared with the others available and only the most elaborate of the two AC (air conditioning) systems was more expensive.

Imperial option list, 1967.

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  Note seatbelt mounting point.

The publicity material associated with the Mobile Director Package did suggest the rearward-facing seat would likely be occupied by a director’s secretary and, as one might imagine, the configuration did preclude her (in 1967, secretaries almost always were women) using a seatbelt but she would always have been in arm’s reach of at least one cigarette lighter so there was that.  The (male) end of the front seatbelts sat on the sill panel, adjacent to the seat’s squab (back), a placement dictated by the need not to restrict access to the rear-compartment and that worked well for the standard coupe but, obviously, rendered the belt useless when the seat was rotated.  While Chrysler can be criticized for not providing rearward-facing secretaries with what’s now regarded as an essential safety feature, the rest of the US industry and legislatures (federal & state) were in 1967 little less cavalier.  While some state registration authorities had during the decade mandated the provision of seatbelts for front-seat passengers, no US jurisdiction then compelled their use.

The familiar modern three-point (lap & sash) seatbelt evolved in the late 1950s with much input from US designers but it was Swedish manufacturers that first made them universal (Scandinavia being often dark and icy, drivers sharing the roads with large elk).  The modern seatbelt design (conceptually unchanged to this day) is credited to Swedish mechanical engineer Nils Bohlin (1920–2002) who was employed by Volvo, the company making them a standard fitting in 1959, following the example of Saab that had added them the previous year.  During the 1960s, US states gradually imposed a requirement they be fitted until federal law mandated they be installed in all passenger vehicles produced after 1 January, 1968.  The laws requiring people actually to use the things proved more difficult to implement but other countries quickly made both fitment and use compulsory, initially only for those seated in the front but eventually this extended to all passengers.  Although examples existed early in the twentieth century (fitted often by those with experience in aviation) rudimentary seatbelts first appeared in US production cars during the 1950s but the manufacturers must have thought the public indifferent because their few gestures were tentative such as in 1956 when Ford had offered (as an extra-cost option) a bundle of safety features called the “Lifeguard Design” package that included:

(1) Padded dashboards (to reduce head injuries).

(2) Recessed steering wheel hub (to minimize chest injuries).

(3) Seat belts (front lap belts only)

(4) Stronger door latches (preventing doors flying open in a crash)

(5) Shatter-resistant rear-view mirror (reducing injuries caused by from broken glass).

In Western popular culture and advertising, there have been many friendly bears, including this one happily buckled-up with a “Ford seat belt. One third stronger than required for airliners.”

The standard features included (1) the Safety-Swivel Rear View Mirror, (2) the Deep-Center Steering Wheel with recessed post and bend-away spokes and (3) Double-Grip Door Latches with interlocking striker plate overlaps.  Optional at additional cost were (4) Seat Belts (single kit, front or rear, color-keyed, nylon-rayon with quick one-handed adjust/release aluminium buckle) (US$5).  There were also "bundles" (always popular in Detroit), “Safety Package A” consisting of a Padded Instrument Panel & Padded Sun Visors (US$18) while “Safety Package B” added to that Front-Seat Lap Seat Belts (US$27).  On the 1956 Thunderbird (with a significantly different interior design) the options were (1) the Lifeguard Padded Instrument Panel (US$22.65), (2) Lifeguard Padded Sun Visors (US$9) and (3) Lifeguard Seat Belts (US$14).

Years later, internal documents would be discovered revealing conflicts within the corporation, the marketing department opposed to any mention of "safety features" because that reminded potential customers of car crashes; they would prefer they focus on new colors, higher power outputs, sleek new lines and such.  So, with not much done to promote the “Lifeguard Design”, public demand was subdued and soon the option quietly was deleted.  At the time, apart from improving the quality of roads (resulting in higher average speeds with obvious implications) the government had done little about either safety or vehicle emissions but both the rising highway death toll and the worsening air quality in cities was attracting attention, meaning things would change, decades of legislation soon to unfold.  The first decisive step came as a provision in FMVSS 208 (Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 208) requiring all passenger cars manufactured from 1 January, 1968 onward be equipped with seatbelts at the designated seating positions though this was a federal manufacturing requirement, not a law requiring motorists to buckle up, something not imposed until 1984 when New York made their use mandatory, other states following the lead.

FMVSS emerged from the US NHSB (National Highway Safety Bureau (that in 1970 became the NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) under the newly created DOT (Department of Transportation), established by an act of Congress on 15 October, 1966 and beginning operation on 1 April, 1967).  That alphabet soup of activity in a field previously little explored by government came in the wake of the publication of Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) book Unsafe at any Speed (1965) documenting the flaws in the design and construction of US automobiles and industry’s indifference to the consequences.  Regulation ever since has been a growing industry, something emblematic of a theme in Western political culture since the end of World War II (1939-1945): The erosion of personal freedom in exchange for perceived (or dictated) benefits (in the case of the FMVSS, safer cars; other agencies gave us cleaner air).  All of this is fought out in various fora (legislatures, the streets, social media, Fox News etc); sometimes the state giveth, sometimes the state taketh away.

The profound recent shift in this mechanism is not the process but the participants: As “big tech” became dominant, that collective gave much to consumers who benefited from what appeared substantially to be “free” while surrendering much that was once by philosophers and political scientists thought precious but which clearly is regarded by many as an abstraction, the loss of which is a price worth paying for TikTok, Instagram, generative AI (artificial intelligence) and such.  In that, big tech’s model is essentially the same as that of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and that seems to have worked well so we should imagine, as the twenty-first century unfolds, we’ll get “more of the same”.  In political theory, what the social contract theorists at big tech are doing is right because we all have clicked on the boxes agreeing to their 30-plus pages of terms and conditions and have certified we have read and understood every clause.  The political process handling this societal overlay is neither static nor lineal; structurally it follows much the same pattern as earlier contests between power and individuals: As governments react to pressure groups by seeking to curb the worst of the consequences, fixes, work-arounds and obfuscations will interact with a flow of money into the coffers of governments, parties (and, now and again, pockets) in a way that will permit most of what big tech plans to do while giving the appearance things are being done to stop them doing at least some of what many people think they should stop doing.  To anyone who remembers the maneuvers and compromises that for more than a decade would flow around the best-laid plans of the NHTSA, it will all be familiar.

1968 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  The seatbelt (lap only) was now attached directly to the frame.

Imperial’s designers were compelled by the law to be more imaginative than most.  For the swivelling front seat in the 1968 cars, the seatbelt mounting points were integrated directly into the steel frame of the seat base itself, rather than the vehicle's floor pan.  To achieve the necessary strength, (using techniques borrowed from the seats in airliners), the engineers had both inboard and outboard lap-belt ends bolt directly to reinforced anchor points on the lower structural framing of the seat.  This made seat, mechanism and belts wholly self-contained (a la a military aircraft’s ejector-seat!) and permitted the 180^o swivel effect, belts rotating seamlessly with passenger.  Chrysler did however obtain from the authorities a partial-exemption.  While FMVSS 208 required front-seat shoulder belts, that would have been difficult to implement for the swivelling seat (not impossible because ejector-seats have frame-mounted shoulder-belts) so the restraint system was limited to the two-point lap-belt (admittedly an improvement over what she'd been provided in 1967: nothing).  Secretaries on the move presumably were grateful but the safety feature didn’t see sales improve, despite the slashing of the price.

1966 Chrysler 300X show car.

In 1966, the “swivelling seat thing” must have been exerting a powerful influence in Chrysler’s design offices because also shown that year was the 300X, based on a 300 Convertible (and despite the appended letter, a vehicle not in the tradition of the just-retired “letter series” 300s (1955-1965), the “X” believed a reference to eXperimental) and although mechanically unchanged, the cockpit was packed with “futuristic” ideas, some of which did eventually enter mainstream use (although the swivelling front seat remained one of history’s unwanted orphans).  Rather than a conventional steering wheel, the driver used handgrips and the “steering unit” included button controls for lights, wipers, turn signals, and door locks, enabling use of all functions with a finger or thumb, all the while keeping a both hands on the mechanism.  Door handles were replaced by a keypunch card used also for the ignition while a truck-lid mounted TV camera and monitor on the dashboard replaced the rear-view mirrors.  Rear-seat passengers (and the front-occupant when “swivelled”) were able to enjoy watching a small television, mounted on a bracket allowing it to be stowed away when not in use. Construction of the 300X was out-sourced to the prolific customizer and fabricator Roger Winfield (1927–2025) whose creations became well-known from their appearances in film and television including Blade Runner (1982) and Get Smart (1965-1970).  The 1965 Sunbeam “Tiger” be built for Get Smart was actually a visually almost identical Sunbeam Alpine, chosen because its compactfour-cylinder engine left sufficient under-hood space for the “special accessories” (including a retractable machine-gun) whereas the Tiger’s Ford V8 filled the space to the brim.  To solve the “aural deficit”, the distinctive burble of a Tiger’s V8 was added during the editing process.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

The most obvious thing that might puzzle those first seeing the Mobile Director Package is why it was available only in a two-door model when four-door coachwork would seem to make the configuration more obviously functional.  Had Imperial in 1967 sold several thousand of the things it’s at least possible Chrysler would for 1968 (or even mid-way through 1967) had extended availability but that would have been a more demanding process than it may appear, the existing swivelling mechanism unable to be used.  The difficulty was the four-door models (both sedan and hardtop) had respectively a full or partial B-pillar, the latter ending at the belt-line where the greenhouse begins, the structure required to provide a secure anchor point for the rear door's hinges.  The coupes used doors longer than front units on the four-door models, meaning the B-pillar sat further forward than the trailing-edge of the coupe’s door; there was thus a sufficient aperture for the seat to rotate when the coupe’s door was open but the gap would have been too narrow on the four-door cars.  So to offer the package in the four-door body it would have been a matter either of re-designing the doors or the swivelling seat and while the former would have been an expensive exercise (prohibitively so if the only justification was to accommodate a low-volume option), the seat and its base could have been re-engineered but after finding only 81 buyers in 1967 and 70 the next season, investment would have been hard to justify.

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1 (left) and 1959 Lancia Appia Series III (right).  Facel Vega produced France's finest cars of the post-war era but while undeniably glamourous, the flaws in the design of the Excellence's door-latches were never resolved and by the time the factory was shuttered in 1964, total Excellence production stood at 148 EX1s (Series One; 1958-1961) & 8 EX2s (Series Two; 1961-1964).  Lancia perfected pillar-free body engineering, using doors with sturdy window frames, permitting latch points at both sill and roof, the configuration offered on a number of sedans including the Ardea (1939-1953), Aurelia (1950-1958) & Appia (1953-1963).  The locking mechanism was intricate but the engineering was simple and proved reliable.  It's sad the company's later attachment to FWD (front wheel drive) ultimately doomed Lancia because in every other aspect of engineering, few others were as adept at producing such fine small-displacement vehicles.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

Ford's 1969 Aurora II Concept Car gave an indication of quite what what would have been required to make the Mobile Director Package conveniently functional on the platform of what was then the standard "full-size" four-door US automobile.  The "wrap-around" rear seat was an idea borrowed from the Ford Thunderbird, contemporary reviewers praising the visual impact but noting that as something for humans to sit on it was less comfortable than a conventional design; in the Aurora it probably worked better and certainly lent the cabin the desired "lounge-room" vibe.  The problem of providing (1) space for the seat to swivel and (2) allowing elegant ingress & egress was of course afforded by the the four doors (in "suicide" configuration) and elimination of the B-pillar.  That combination provided unprecedented ease of accessibility but its doubtful it could successfully have been implemented in series-production.  The French concern had earlier tried the approach with their Excellence model but, despite retaining a vestigial hump where a B-pillar would have attached to the sill, the company never solved the problem of the door-locking apparatus "springing open" while the car was in motion, usually when the mechanism was subject to lateral forces such as when cornering.  Because these forces could be exerted at high-speed, having doors suddenly "flying open" was an obvious safety concern.  Lancia in the 1950s solved the problem of doing without a fixed central pillar buy using doors with conventional, full-height frames, thereby enabling locking mechanisms to be fitted top & bottom.  Curiously, the Aurora was based on the LTD Country Squire that came only with fully-framed doors so Lancia's approach could have been adopted but there's no indication Ford ever contemplated series-production, the "concept car" created just to generate interest on the show circuit.

1967 Imperial Crown Convertible (with subsequently added Mobile Director package).

Imperial over two seasons might have managed to sell only 151 of the Mobile Director packages but one owner of a 1967 Crown Convertible was so smitten they cannibalized a coupe to create a unique (if wholly fake) "convertible Mobile Director".  Exactly emulating what the factory did would not have been as simple as it may appear because the floor under the passengers swivelling seat needed to be strengthened with additional bracing and a "baffle" was welded to the transmission tunnel where the table's stainless-steel stanchion was attached (off-set to the driver's side to avoid the drive-shaft).  Although apparently as significantly pointless as the original, it's a novelty that would attract interest at events like "cars & coffee" and may even be more functional in that it would seem an ideal place comfortably to sit and enjoy one's picnic while watching something like polo (on the model of the way the Country Life set re-purpose the tailgates on their Range Rovers).  That said, had the factory in 1967-1968 made the package available on the convertible, almost certainly it would have been just as unsuccessful as the coupe. 

Stewart-Warner's desk-based DataFax (circa 1958).  The process of miniaturization in electronics was by 1966 still embryonic but enough shrinkage had been attained to make a fax fit in Imperial's show car.  Unlike fax machines, the pencil skirt never goes out of style.

The specification of Chrysler's package as it appeared in showrooms for the 1967 season was actually modest compared with the “Mobile Executive” car the corporation sent around the show circuit a year earlier; that Imperial had been fitted with a telephone, Dictaphone, writing table, fax machine, reading lamp and stereophonic sound system; a typewriter and portable television also used in many displays although neither were "fitted".  Also a Crown Coupe, the 1966 show car was much more ambitious, anticipating advances in mobile communications that would emerge over the next quarter-century.  At the time, car phones were available (the first service in the US offered in certain cities in 1946) but they were expensive and the nature of the bandwidth, combined with a lack of data compression, meant the range was limited as was capacity, only several dozen calls able simultaneously to be sustained.  In the 1966 car, there had even been the novelty of a Stewart-Warner Datafax, able to send or receive a US Letter-sized (slightly smaller than A4) page of text in six minutes.  That sounds unimpressive in the 2020s (or compared even with the 14.4 kbit/s for Group 3 FaxStream services of the 1990s) but the appropriate comparison is with the contemporary alternatives (driving, walking, a courier, or using the US Mail) and six minutes would have been a considerable advance.  While more expensive than a stamp and envelope, for the target market the costs would anyway have been a legitimate business expense and thus "a deductible".  As it was, the tempting equipment awaited improvements in infrastructure such as the analogue networks of the 1980s and later cellular roll-outs, these technologies contributing to an extent of use delivering economies of scale that eventually would make possible the smartphone.

The 1966 car that toured the show circuit demonstrated the concept which, in simplified form, would the next year appear on the option list but things like telephones and fax machines anticipated the future by many years (although fax machines in cars (Audi and Toyota among the handful to offer them) never became a thing).  The Dictaphone did however make the list as one of Chrysler's RPOs (regular production options) in the early 1970s and the take-up rate was surprisingly high although the fad quickly passed, dealers reporting the customers saying the hardware worked well but they "never used them".  In the collector community, a surviving Dictaphone in something like a Plymouth 'Cuda is a minor attraction; while not increasing value as would something like and original Hemi V8, it is a legitimate "period piece".

Glovebox-mounted fax machine in 1995 Toyota Celsior (the JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) Lexus LS).

The problem with the scaled-down Datafax was even had it been possible to produce the things at a manageable cost, in 1966 the solid-state electronics that would have made the thing reliable when subject to constant vibration and jolts were still years away (Chrysler’s Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection in 1958 had fewer moving parts and that didn’t end well).  However, even if reliability could have been "engineered in", there is no guarantee demand would have existed whatever the price-point.  In the 1990s, despite it being installed with Toyota’s typical neatness and attention to detail, there were few buyers for the "fax machine in the glovebox" and if the notion was going to catch on anywhere, it would have been in that nation of early adopters.  While there were many features in the 1966 300X truly that were "ahead of their time", the Mobile Direct Package was a genuine cul-de-sac, at least as implemented in a conventionally sized car (and certainly a two-door coupe).  In 1966, rearward-facing seats had for some years been seen in the "vis-à-vis" arrangement used in some LWB (long wheelbase) limousines and as child-seats in the rear-most compartments of station wagons but those seats had been either fixed or folding and although the Ford Aurora II presumably dazzled a few impressionable souls, the industry showed little inclination to follow Chrysler's swivelling lead.

2021 "Maybach-Look" Mercedes-Benz Metris.  The passenger compartment is a similar configuration as the 1966-1967 Imperials (two forward facing seats, two rearward ("fold-away" rather than swivelling)) and there were folding tables as well as features unimaginable in the 1960s (seat massage, starlight-pattern headliner, flatscreen TV, internet connectivity, touchscreen infotainment system and a Burmester sound system with subwoofers).  Unfortunately, a fax machine wasn't part of the build but by 2021, they were close to extinct even in bricks & mortar offices.   

Flawed though Chrysler's implementation in 1966-1967 may have been, in the twenty-first century, production-line economics made it possible to realise the concept's implications, "big-box" vans able to be outfitted as genuinely functional mobile offices from which communication can be maintained with just about any part of the planet.  Of course, based on the same body used by plumbers, Amazon delivery drivers and such, the Metris doesn't have quite the gravitas of the Mercedes-Benz 600 Grossers of old (it's debatable whether the faux "Maybach-Look" stuff makes things better or worse) but there's more interior space and room for a big-screen TV so it's all a matter of what one wants from life.  Noting that, some operations have fitted-out interiors as offices or luxury transports which eschewing the exterior bling, some (often wisely) preferring to travel as inconspicuously as possible.      

Football

Football (pronounced foot-bawl)

(1) As Association Football (in some places known for historic reasons as "soccer"), a game in which two opposing teams of 11 players each defend goal-nets at opposite ends of a field, points being scored by placing the ball in an opponent’s net.

(2) As American football (still sometimes called "Gridiron" outside North America), a game in which two opposing teams of 11 players each defend goals at opposite ends of a field having goal posts at each end, with points being scored either by carrying the ball across the opponent's goal line or kicking it over the crossbar between the opponent's goal posts.

(3) By association (sometimes officially and sometimes as an alternative or informal name), any of various games played with spherical or ellipsoid balls, based usually on two teams competing (variously) to kick, head, carry, or otherwise propel the ball in the direction of each other's territory, the mechanisms of scoring varying according to the rules of the code (Rugby Union, Rugby League, Canadian Football, Australian Rules Football, Gaelic Football etc).

(4) The inflated ball (of various sizes and either spherical or ellipsoid in shape and historically made of leather but now often synthetic) used in football, the Rugby codes etc.

(5) Any person, thing or abstraction treated roughly, tossed about or a problem or (in the phrase “political football”) an issue repeatedly passed from one group or person to another and treated as a pretext for argument (often to gain political advantage) instead of being resolved.

(6) In slang (originally in the US military but now widely used), a briefcase containing the codes and options the US president would use to launch a nuclear attack, carried by a military aide and kept available to the president at all times (used as Nuclear Football, Atomic football, Black Box or Black Bag) (by convention with initial capitals).

(7) Used as a modifier: football club, football ground, football fanatic, football pitch, football hooligan, football fan, football ultra, football match etc.

(8) In commercial use, something sold at a reduced or special price.

1350-1400: From the Middle English fut ball, fotbal & footbal, the construct being foot + ball, the name derived from the games which involved kicking the ball.  Foot was from the Middle English fut, fot, fote & foot, from the Old English fōt, from the Proto-West Germanic fōt, from the Proto-Germanic fōts, from the primitive Indo-European pṓds.  Ball was from the Middle English bal, ball & balle, from the (unattested) Old English beall & bealla (round object, ball) or the Old Norse bǫllr (a ball), both from the Proto-Germanic balluz & ballô (ball), from the primitive Indo-European boln- (bubble), from the primitive Indo-European bel- (to blow, inflate, swell).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon ball, the Dutch bal, the Old High German bal & ballo (from which Modern German gained Ball (ball) & Ballen (bale)).  The related forms in Romance languages are borrowings from the Germanic.  Football is a noun & verb, footballer & footballization are nouns, footballing is a verb & adjective and footballed is a verb; the noun plural is footballs.

Lindsay Lohan in “gridiron” gear, Life Size (2000).  Born in 1986, Ms Lohan missed the fashion industry's first fetishization of shoulder pads.

Although in international use now less common (“NFL” now preferred), the term "gridiron" is still used to describe American football including the NFL (National Football League).  The word "gridiron" refers to the marking originally painted on the field: two intersecting series of parallel lines running the length & breadth of the field which produced a cross-hatched effect recalling the gridirons used on stoves.  After the 1919-1920 season, the grid was replaced with the yard lines still in use today but the name stuck.  In the thirteenth century, a gridiron was an instrument of torture on which victims were chained before being burned by fire and in the same vein (though less gruesomely), in the sixteenth century it described a similar wrought grate on which meat and fish were broiled over hot coals (the same concept as the modern BBQ (barbecue)).  In modern use, it's used of lattice-like structures (though not necessarily of iron) including in ship repair where an grid of metal is used as an open frame supporting vessels, permitting examination, cleaning and repairs when out of the water,  In the slang of live theatre, it's a raised framework from which lighting is suspended.  An interesting (though no longer permitted) use emerged in twentieth century New Zealand land law where "to grid iron" was to purchase land with the boundaries drawn so remaining adjacent parcels were smaller than the minimum able to be registered in fee simple (ie a freehold title), thus preserving the buyer's view and eliminating any threat of gaining undesirable neighbors.  Globally, the cultural and economic impacts of soccer have long been obvious.  Although Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977; President of the RCP (Royal College of Physicians) 1941-1949) thought England eventually would be remembered for her school of physics and lyric poets, the less romantic Sir Richard Turnbull (1909–1998; long serving UK colonial administrator) told Denis Healey (1917–2015; UK defence minister 1964-1970) that “…when the British Empire finally sank beneath the waves of history, it would leave behind it only two monuments: one was the game of Association Football, the other was the expression ‘fuck off’”.  

"Fuck off" has of course flourished in Australia and New Zealand and in some suburbs conversations without it being heard at least once are rare but soccer was different.  It was different in Australia because of Australian Football which, while occasionally called “Aussie Rules” has long been commonly known as football (or footy) so the round-ball game became soccer and the name Socceroo (the construct being socce(r) + (kanga)roo)) was adopted as the official name for the national team.  Australian Football is a game in which points can be scored only by kicking the football between the goalposts and its rules first were written at a time when rugby was quite similar.  In the mid-nineteenth century, although in rugby the concept of the "try" (a player with ball in hand grounding the ball behind the opposition's tryline), there were no points awarded for the achievement; what the try's position on the tryline determined was the place on the field from which the conversion (kicking the football between the goalposts) would be taken and the closer to the posts a try was scored, the easier the kick.  In Japan, where the dominant influence on the language in the twentieth century was the US, the most common form is サッカー(sakkā, from soccer).  In the US, a hybrid (with a few unique innovations) of rugby and association football emerged and was soon more popular than either.  The early name was “gridiron football” but in the pragmatic American way, that quickly became simply “football” but, elsewhere on planet Earth, because that that word described very different games, “gridiron” survived as a piece of product differentiation.  Realizing the linguistic battle was lost, the USFA (United States Football Association), which had formed in the 1910s as the official organizing body of American soccer, in 1945 changed its name to the USSFA (United States Soccer Football Association) before deciding to remove any confusion, deleting entirely any use of “football”.

Ivana Knöll at the FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (the International Federation of Association Football that, for historic reasons, recognizes more countries than the UN (United Nations))) World Cup in Qatar, 2022.

Noted Instagram influencer, German-born Ivana Knöll (b 1992) was a finalist in the Miss Croatia competition in 2016 and was probably the most photographed fan to appear at the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar, always attired in a variety of outfits using the Croatian national symbol of the red and white checkerboard, matching the home strip worn by the team.  Her outfits were much admired and she was a popular accessory sought by Qatari men for their selfies.  She has reappeared at the 2026 World Cup and her swimwear line (including the Crokini (the construct being Cro(atia) + (bi)kini)) is now available through her KnollDoll website.

In Australia & New Zealand, “footy” is the common slang used in all of the four major codes.  Slang terms for footballs include moleskin, pill, peanut, pigskin, pillow & pineapple.  The names are an allusion to the shape and that so many start with the letter “p” is thought mere coincidence.  The figurative sense of “something idly kicked around, something subject to hard use and many vicissitudes” which is the ancestor of the “political football” was in use as early as the 1530s while the US military slang referencing the portable device carrying the materials required for a US president to launch nuclear strikes emerged in the 1960s.  Football (in the sense of soccer) is called “the world game”: and like the game, forms of the word have spread to many languages including the Arabic كرة القدم‎ (calque), the Czech fotbal, the Dutch: voetbal (calque), the German Fußball (Fussball) (calque), the Hebrew כדורגל‎ (calque), the Japanese フットボール (futtobōru), the Korean 풋볼 (putbol), the Maltese futbol, the Portuguese futebol, the Romanian fotbal, the Russian футбо́л (futból), the Spanish fútbol, the Thai ฟุตบอล (fút-bɔn) and the Turkish futbol.  

The Nuclear Football

USN (US Navy) Commander walking across the White House lawn, carrying the “Football” onto Marine One (the presidential helicopter).

The “Football” (also as Nuclear Football, Atomic Football, Black Box or Black Bag) is a briefcase (reputedly made of a reinforced material with a black leather skin) which a military aide to the US president carries so at all times when the Commander-in-Chief is remote from designated command centres (such as the White House Situation Room), orders to the military can be issued including the command to authorize the launch of nuclear weapons.  The Football contains lists of the codes needed to transmit the launch order and the essential technical documentation required to determine the form a nuclear attack should assume.  Apparently, there’s also a check-list of the domestic measures immediately to be executed in the event of an attack including the imposition of martial law and the closing of US airspace to civilian aviation.  This was an outgrowth of the SIOP (Single Integrated Operational Plan) Execution Handbook which codified in one publication all essential information needed in the circumstances, something developed during the administration of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963) but in the way of things familiar to those acquainted with bureaucratic inertia, the physical size (and thus the weight) of the contents grew and there are reports the package now weights in excess of 20 kg (45 lb).  Of course, everything could be contained on a single USB stick (and the Football presumably includes a number of these) but because it’s something of a doomsday device, everything needs to be accessible in a WCS (worst case scenario) in which electronic devices are for whatever reason unable to be used.

Despite the troubled state of the world, the Nuclear Football has of late not much been in the news but it did gain a mention in one reaction to crooked Hillary Clinton’s (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) criticism of the UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) 250 event staged in June 2026 by Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) in the grounds of the White House.  Crooked Hillary had damned the idea of UFC 250 as soon as it had been announced and renewed her attack just before the event began posting: “Remember, during today's literal cage match on the White House grounds: No matter what, it's not his house.  It's our house.  Get a hat, coaster, or sticker to support groups and candidates who will respect the form and the function of the people's house.”  Sensibly, her post was on an account that blocked replies from others than those she’d pre-approved.

Despite that attempt preemptively to censor, the backlash was not long coming, crooked Hillary accused of “selective outrage”, those commenting mentioning some of the scandals from the eight years she and her husband (Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001)) lived at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.  Scandals associated with crooked Hillary are of course not hard to find and from among those located in the White House, her critics included the pair “literally renting out the Lincoln Bedroom” and, of course, the then president’s salacious behavior with youthful intern MonicaLewinsky (b 1973, with whom Bill Clinton “did not have sexual relations”).  Also mentioned was the “well-documented vandalism and theft of furniture” that occurred upon Bill & Hill vacating the building, the GAO (Government Accountability Office) assessing the damage alone at US$15,000.  Amusingly, the Clinton acolytes had responded to that by saying the damage “was commensurate with that of prior administrations” which is just a glossed admission of guilt meaning: “They did it too”.  At law, it’s known as the tu quoque (from the Latin tu quoque, (literally “and thou also”), best translated as “you did too”) defense; it’s rarely invoked because it’s just an admission of guilt and, in most cases, is not useful even as at attempt at mitigation.  It wasn’t permitted at the Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) of the Nazi war criminals and in his memoirs (1952) wily old Franz von Papen (1879-1969; Chancellor of Germany 1932 & vice chancellor 1933-1934 who secured one of three acquittals at the trial) admitted “It is true that the tu quoque is a bad defence”.

One who really warmed the chance to reply to crooked Hillary’s critique was the retired USAF (US Air Force) lieutenant colonel who for two years “…carried the Nuclear Football for your husband inside that 'people's house' you're suddenly so precious about.  I saw it all up close for two years… while Bill was getting blow jobs in the Oval Office from an intern and groping female Air Force enlisted crew on Air Force One.  You lecture about 'respect for the institution' while your husband lost the nuclear codes.  And when you finally slinked out in 2001?  You and your crew trashed the place—vandalism, theft, the Government Accountability Office confirmed it.  Sit down, bitch, the adults are back in charge.”  Compared with that, the post on the Republican Party’s official account verged on an act of kindness, suggesting crooked Hillary should “sit this one out.”  

Set of the War Room in Dr Strangelove (1964).  It’s presumably apocryphal but it’s said Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, POTUS 1981-1989) remarked his only disappointment upon becoming president was that the White House Situation Room was more like something in which an insurance company might conduct seminars than the film’s dramatic War Room set.

The first known use of something recognizable as a “Football” was during the second administration (1957-1961) of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961) although in those days it contained purely the vital information and none of the independent communications connectivity which apparently was added only in 1977.  Quite when first it was called "the Football" isn’t known but the term was in use during the Kennedy years and all agree it was based on the idea of the football “being passed” as happens in the game, the link being that it’s carried 24/7/365 by an on-duty military officer.  There’s also the story that “Football” was a refinement (possibly a euphemistic one) of the earlier (and also unattributed) nickname “dropkick”.  In the game of football the dropkick can be used to transfer the ball to another player and it was used as a codename in the film Dr Strangelove, a dark comedy of nuclear destruction.  However whether art imitated life or it was the other way around isn’t known and "Football" anyway prevailed.

The arrival of the Football in Hiroshima in May 2023 with Joe Biden (b 1942; POTUS 2021-2025) who was in town for the G7 (Group of Seven advanced democratic economies) meeting was noted on Japanese Social Media although it wasn’t the first time the Football had been in the city which was the target of the first nuclear attack, Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) visiting in 2016.  By the time President Obama stepped off the Air Force One, the Football enabled him to unleash within 30 minutes the equivalent of over 22,000 Hiroshima-sized bombs which, while rather less than in 1969 when the size of the US nuclear arsenal peaked, was still quite an increase on the two deliverable weapons available in August 1945.  The thermo-nuclear (fusion) devices in use since the 1950s were also a thousand-fold (and beyond) more powerful than the fission bombs deployed against Hiroshima and Nagasaki although, as a footnote, while for decades the Hiroshima bomb was a genuine one-off (using uranium rather than plutonium), analysts believe in recent years uranium may again have become fashionable with recent adopters such as Pakistan and the DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)) building them because of the relative simplicity of construction.

For obvious reasons, the US constitution is silent on the matter of nuclear weapons and despite attempts by the Congress to wrest war-making powers from the executive, the implications of the title “Commander-in-Chief” mean it’s the POTUS who enjoys the singular right to order the use of nuclear weapons.  Congress, the courts, the Secretary of War (Defense) and the military top brass have no veto over a presidential launch order, that arrangement a product of the understanding during the high Cold War the warning time of a nuclear attack on the US would be only a few minutes.  A president can of course consult military and civilian advisers but is not bound to follow their advice.  Under the SOP (standard operating procedure), the specifics of the order would be derived from the pre-planned response options carried in the Nuclear Football; as well as target choices there is also the nature of the strike, ranging from “limited” to “massive”.  For the POTUS’s order to be acted upon, they must verify their identity by use of a token (called “the biscuit”) which contains unique authentication codes (on a challenge-response model).  A physical card always carried by the POTUS, the frequency with which the biscuit is updated has never been released but analysts suspect there’s an adherence to standard cryptographic security practices which would dictate a regular (perhaps daily) swaps.  Once authenticated, the order is transmitted through the NC3 system (nuclear command, control and communications), ending up with those personnel who trigger the launch(es).

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

So, in the legal sense, there are no checks & balances operating upon what unarguably is the most serious and consequential act a POTUS could take.  There are steps in the process at which the actions of individuals could stop the strike but that would demand a direct defiance of the chain of command.  The role of the Secretary of War (Defense) is to verify the authenticity of the order and then transmit it to the military where, as a direct order from the Commander-in-Chief, it should unquestionably be carried out.  However, military officers are required to refuse to carry out an order if they deem it clearly unlawful under the laws of armed conflict (and that would include a strike aimed at a purely civilian target with no military rationale).  The legal theory underpinning that is well-understood but what was intriguing was that during the first Trump administration, it was alleged senior military officers had decided among themselves to act as an informal “review committee” of orders coming from the White House, effectively creating a “sandbox” where, if thought necessary, orders could be “buried” while the generals and admirals discussed what to do.  When that was revealed, there was controversy but the approach wasn’t without precedent.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) it wasn’t unusual for the president when “tired and emotional” to order military strikes on targets here and there (he never suggested using nuclear weapons).  Those orders his aides ignored and when the next morning dutifully they reported their disobedience, the president’s response was always: “Good”.