Tergiversate

Tergiversate (Pronounced tur-ji-ver-seyt)

(1) To change repeatedly one's attitude or opinions with respect to a cause or subject.

(2) To turn renegade; to change sides, affiliations or loyalties; to apostatize; to desert.

(3) To evade, to equivocate using subterfuge; to obfuscate in a deliberate manner.  To be evasive or ambiguous.

(4) To flee by turning one's back (obsolete).

1645-1655; From the Classical Latin tergiversātus, perfect active participle of tergiversor (to evade, to avoid, to turn one's back on) and past participle of tergiversārī (to turn one's back), the construct being tergi- (a combining form of tergum (back)) + versātus, past participle of versāre, frequentative of +‎ versor or vertere (to turn (from the primitive Indo-European root wer- (to turn; to bend))).  The Vulgar Latin was tergiversationem (nominative tergiversatio).  The original mid-seventeenth century sense of the verb tergiversate was “to shift; practice evasion” and it was used especially in a political or religious context to mean “apostatize, desert one's party”.  It’s not clear whether the verb was a directly from the Latin tergiversates or a back-formation from tergiversation.  The noun tergiversation (turning dishonestly from a straightforward action or statement; shifting, shuffling, equivocation) was in use by the 1560s, from the Latin tergiversationem (a shifting, evasion, declining, refusing), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of tergiversari.  Deconstructed, that meant literally “to turn one's back on”, thus the sense of “to evade” from tergum (the back (of unknown origin) + versare.  In the seventeenth century, there were nuances to tergiversation, on version noting the meaning: “A seeming to runne away, yet (like some cocks) still to fight, wrangling” (ie a tactic of delayed attack rather than a retreat).  Some sources list the verb tergiversate being obsolete by the twentieth century but it survived as a “decorative word” and “deliberate anachronism” before being revived because it was so useful in political commentary.  Tergiversate, tergiversated & tergiversating are verbs and tergiversation & tergiversator are nouns; the noun plural forms (tergiversations & tergiversators) are rare.

While “tergiversate” can be applied to changes of opinion or alignment in many fields, in contemporary practice it’s rare for it to be seen except when speaking of writing about politics & politicians, a rich source of mendacity and inconsistency.  So common is political tergiversation that the frequency with which it’s reported has compelled the coining or adaptation of other terms including “flip-flopping”, “turncoating”, “U-turning”, and “ratting”, some politicians known even to have embraced them.  Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1901 entered the UK’s House of Commons as a Tory (Conservative), having on the hustings lambasted his opponents in the Liberal Party as “prigs, prudes and faddists” and once in parliament he warmed to the topic, accusing the Liberals of “…hiding from the public view like a toad in a hole”, adding “…when it stands forth in all its hideousness we Tories will have to hew the filthy object limb from limb.”  That told the country what he must at the time have thought yet in less than three years he’d stand on the same platform and ejaculate: “I hate the Tories.  I am an English Liberal.”  Obviously that was a nailing of the colors to the mast yet by 1924, after a turbulent couple of decades, he returned to the Tory benches, all apparently forgiven (though certainly not forgotten).  Whether those tergiversations were acts of principle or a sniffing of the electoral breeze can be debated but Churchill himself took the view he’d done it all with some panache, joking in his club: “Anyone can rat, but it takes a certain ingenuity to re-rat.”

#freckles: Lindsay Lohan out shopping. Tergiversate’s origin lies in the Latin tergiversari (to turn one's back) but that sense of the word has for more than a century been extinct and it’s now a “loaded” word; a pejorative characterization rather than a neutral description.

The Athenian statesman and general Alcibiades (circa 450-404 BC) ratted more often than Churchill and did in circumstances wholly more distasteful, his allegiance shifting on several occasions during the Peloponnesian War (431-404 BC, fought between the Athenians and Spartans).  Historians have attributed his repeated acts of treachery not to ideological commitment or even avarice but to what a modern HR (Human Relations) department might describe as “difficulties in personal relationships” that led not infrequently to erstwhile colleagues becoming enemies.  Prominent in his native Athens where he advocated a hard line against the Spartans in both foreign policy and military matters, Alcibiades proved skilful in Masonic-like plotting and scheming but his ruthlessness made many enemies and they too proved adept at character assassination; reading the writing on the wall (about to be written in his blood) he decamped to Sparta, taking with him valuable secrets about the military plans of Athens, making him a most useful “consultant”.  However, the problem inherent in being a turncoat (however useful) is that one never is wholly trusted by ones new “friends” and this tension, coupled with Alcibiades’ clearly abrasive personality made him realise he’d do well to depart and so he did, defecting the court of the Persian Empire where he served as a strategic advisor.  However, so much had the power centres in Athens shifted that remarkably (given his history), he was recalled to military command there, serving for several years before the faction that had never forgiven him engineered his second exile to Persia.  There he was murdered, reputedly on the orders of his enemies in Sparta but there’s a long list of likely suspects.

What’s now the most frequent use of tergiversation is to refer to promises made and broken by those most notorious of tergiversators: politicians.  Although the term “law-maker” is less commonly used beyond the US, it’s a revealing way to describe those elected or appointed to legislatures and the key to why they are able to break what should be regarded as contractual promises while others doing the same thing can severely be punished.  When seeking election to what most people casting a vote would regard as a highly paid job, politicians make what are known as “campaign promises”.  The promises are an inducement to make people vote for them so they get the well paid job so what should be created is a “social contract”; upon being elected, the politician should fulfil their promises.  In that it should be no different from the furniture store advertising their “special deal” of “one coffee table, two chairs and one sofa for $1,999”; that’s what should be delivered.  Were the store to take the $1,999 and deliver only one chair and one sofa, the customer would have legal recourse.  What that might be (an order for specific performance of the contract (ie delivering the missing table and chair)); a refund; compensation for the missing items etc) might vary according to this and that but there would be come redress available and that’s because the law-makers have passed laws protecting consumers from those breaking promises.

Day of the Tergiversate (2017), directed by Alex Michael Smith (known also for Bed of Fear (2014) and Monsters of Suburbia (2019).

However, lawmakers everywhere (as far as is known) have not passed laws making political promises enforceable despite the principle being the same as the furniture store (promises made to deliver something exchange for something (money or votes).  Political scientists have noted the social contract between politician & voter conforms with the four essential element of a contract listed in every text book in the common law world: (1) Offer (a politician makes a promise in exchange for a vote), (2) Acceptance (by voting a voter in engaging in an act of “acceptance by acquiescence”), (3) Consideration (in voting the voter is “paying” the politician for their promise(s)) and (4) Certainty of terms (helpfully, political parties list their promises in the “party platform”, usually in simple, unambiguous language of the advertising slogan).  So that would appear to suggest that according to the legal principles the lawmakers impose on everybody else, the promises they made to get their well-paid jobs should at law be enforceable.  Of course they are not and the lawmakers remain free to break their promises at will.  While the politicians can argue that any voter sufficiently upset about one or more broken promises can in the next election vote for somebody else, that really doesn’t much help because (1) the politician will enjoy some years (typically between 2-8) in the high paid job they obtained by making promises that were broken and (2) the alternatives are just a likely to break promises.

The roll-call of tergiversating politicians is of course long and rarely noble; sometimes the consequences have for decades rippled.  Overturning long-standing party policy, Tory Sir Robert Peel (1788–1850; Prime Minister of the UK 1834–1835 & 1841–1846) had to rely on the support of the Whig opposition to in 1846 repeal the UK’s protectionist “Corn Laws”, triggering the “free trade” squabbles which would for decades rage.  A most unusual reform by a Tory administration (it benefited the poor and cost the rich!); shortly after that his ministry fell and Peel would never again hold office.  Still, he’s remembered because of another of his innovations lent his names to two of the original slang terms for police constables: “Peelers” and “Bobbies”.

Front page of Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post, 27 June 1990.  The editors of Mr Murdoch's tabloids prefer punchy words like “lied” to decorative forms like “tergiversated”.

George H.W. Bush (George XLI, 1924-2018; VPOTUS 1981-1989 and POTUS 1989-1993) might have got away with breaking his “…no new taxes” promise had it been an anodyne line of electoral orthodoxy buried somewhere in the Republican’s 1988 manifesto but he made the mistake of standing at rallies and loudly declaring: “Read my lips: no new taxes”, probably the most widely televised fragment of the campaign and greeted always with resounding applause.  It must at the time have seemed a good idea and probably it was; certainly nobody doubts Mr Bush really believed what he was promising and few politicians could convey sincerity like him.  Unfortunately, economic conditions worsened and by 1990 he took the decision to raise taxes in an attempt to “reign in” the growing deficit.  This was the era before Dick Cheney (1941-2025; VPOTUS 2001-2009) helpfully explained: “Deficits don’t matter”, a new (at least temporary) orthodoxy explaining why the US deficit is now nudging US$40 trillion which, although only a few dozen Elon Musks (b 1971), is a big number.  In 1990, Mr Bush preferred to avoid what he might once have called “voodoo economics”, stuck to the text books and raised taxes, something which contributed to Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001) winning the “It’s the economy stupid” 1992 presidential election, voters, however unhappily, receiving a free copy of crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013).

Many economists at the time commended Mr Bush for breaking his promise but there weren’t many of them and there were many more angry voters.  Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) found the electorate more forgiving of him breaking the promise made in the 1932 campaign to “cut federal spending by 25%”.  Instead, he embarked upon the “New Deal” and while some economists have argued all that “tax & spend” churn delayed economic recovery, the many who at the time benefited from the stimulus weren’t inclined to decline support because of FDR’s broken promise.  As ever, “it’s the economy stupid”.  Now of course, in the time of the US$40 trillion deficit, it’s different and the shadow since 1987 cast by the “Greenspan put” (recessions ultimately reducible to “rich people losing money” the solution of celebrity economist (a rare breed) Dr Alan Greenspan (1926-2026; chairman of the Fed (US Federal Reserve) 1987-2006) being to “give them money”) grows ever longer.  In a sense, that has removed from the US political debate much of the need for politicians to make promises about taxes or spending because they know that while the Fed’s mechanism to “create money” may be different from the Nazi-era “wizardry” of Dr Hjalmar Schacht’s (1877–1970; president of the Reichsbank 1923-1930 & 1933-1939), “Mefo bills” (promissory notes, drawn upon the artificial company Metallurgische Forschungsgesellschaft (Metallurgical Research Corporation), the “bottom line” outcomes are strikingly similar.  How long this system can be sustained has attracted comment, the Dick Cheney faction in one corner and in the other, those saying “It’s the stupid economy”.

“Core” and “non core” promises explained.  Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011. 

A breathtakingly audacious “justification” of breaking election promises was in 1996 coined (apparently on-the-spot so he gets points for that) by John Howard (b 1939; prime minister of Australia 1996-2007).  When challenged by a journalist over having blatantly just broken several promises made during the election campaign only a few months earlier, Mr Howard constructed a new theory, one previously unknown to political science and never codified even by such cleverly wicked chaps as the Florentine diplomat Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469–1527), the “Welsh wizard” David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922) or the truly evil Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), none of whom were ever much bothered by the notion of “keeping promises”).  What Mr Howard extemporized was that election promises can be categorized into “core” pledges that must be kept, and “non-core” pledges able to be broken or amended (also an interesting distinction).  That really would have been a most useful contribution to democratic theory had Mr Howard explained things prior to the election and listed his party’s “core” and “non-core” promises in the manifesto thus.  Unfortunately, his concept appeared only after the promised had “done the job” and elected him.  So, given the cynicism in the “core” vs “non-core” dichotomy he retrospectively applied, one might have thought the electorate might have punished Mr Howard but he went on to win another three elections (holing office for more than a decade and becoming the country's second-longest serving leader), the voters apparently concluding that even though he’d broken his promises, at least he’d had the chutzpah to come up with an even bigger lie in justification.  Never forgetting their convict origins, Australians can’t help but admire successful skulduggery and Mr Howard was a “conviction politician”; never was it said of him he was one of those “who lacked the courage of his lack of convictions”.

In modern use the understanding of “tergiversation” has shifted from its origin in the Latin tergiversari (to turn one's back) and while more than “flip-flop”, “U-turn” or “lie”, generally it’s now used to convey the idea of evasion, duplicity, abandonment of a previously held position, shifting a previously expressed stance for mere expediency or base self-interest; most associated with politicians it thus carries connotations of bad faith or basic dishonesty.  “Tergiversation” is thus a “loaded” word; a pejorative characterization rather than a neutral description.  Even for politicians however there can be good reasons to break promises.  Although phrases in the vein of “When someone persuades me that I am wrong, I change my mind. What do you do?” usually are attributed to the English economist John Maynard Keynes (1883-1946), there’s no evidence he ever used those words but the sentiment certainly exists in his writings including: “The company must maintain constant vigilance and revise preconceived ideas in response to changes in external situations” and “The inactive investor who takes up an obstinate attitude about his holdings and refuses to change his opinion merely because facts and circumstances have changed is the one who in the long run comes to grievous loss.”

Chopstick diplomacy.

Comrade Zhou Enlai (1898–1976; premier of the People's Republic of China (PRC) 1949-1976, left), Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) (centre) and comrade Zhang Chunqiao (1917–2005, right) at the welcome banquet for President Nixon's visit to the PRC, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, 26 February 1972.

It was in that spirit Richard Nixon, who had built a political career on his virulent anti-communism and support for the renegade province of Taiwan, switched to achieve a détante with the PRC (People’s Republic of China, the old “Red China”) and ultimately grant diplomatic recognition.  That was quite a switch and one at the time only someone with his solid anti-communist credentials could have achieved; while his motivations weren’t wholly pure, he did understand the geopolitical environment he and Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1973-1977) were confronting was very different to that which a generation earlier had existed for Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961) and John Foster Dulles (1888–1959; US secretary of state 1953-1959).  Most historians have since seen the shift as an inevitable strategic adaptation to Cold War realities rather than mere tergiversation but they’re not as forgiving of all adaptations to changed circumstances.  In his pre-political life, Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) would probably not ever have been labelled a “liberal” but his public positions on at least some issues would suggest he was sympathetic to some liberal positions including gun control and the right to abortion (“pro-choice” in the US discourse).  What can’t be denied is that since the 1980s the spate of mass shootings (many of them in schools) means “circumstances have changed” yet Mr Trump is now a most doughty opponent of any attempt to strengthen gun control in the US (although in NYC’s Trump Tower a “No Carry” policy strictly is enforced).  This isn’t exactly the sort of “change of opinion”  Keynes had in mind but rather what David Stockman (b 1946; Director of the US OMB (Office of Management and Budget) 1981–1985) called “The Triumph of Politics”, the sub-title of his 1986 book the explanatory: Why the Reagan Revolution Failed.  A quick learner, Mr Trump found at least some of the techniques in property development were transferable to electoral politics: Results matter and don’t be too bothered by principles.

Skeg

Skeg (pronounced skeg)

(1) In shipbuilding, a fin-like projection sometimes supporting a rudder and protecting the propeller(s) at its lower end, located abaft a sternpost or rudderpost.

(2) In the design of smaller boats, an extension of the keel, designed to improve steering.

(3) In the slang of naval architects (in certain contexts), a stump or branch (the after-part of a ship's keel).

(4) In the slang of the GM (General Motors) stylists, a “lower fin”, matching the, seen in embryonic form on the 1959 Pontiac and used on certain 1961 Oldsmobiles and the 1961-1962 Cadillacs.

(5) The fin which acts as a stabilizer on a surfboard.  To suffer some injury after being hit by one of these fins is to be “skegged”.

(6) In Australian slang, a surfer; a person who leads the lifestyle of a surfer (used also derisively in the form “fake skeg” of those who adopt the style an appearance without actually surfing.

(7) A type of wild plum (obsolete).

(8) A kind of oat (obsolete).

(9) In Northern English dialectal use, a look or glance.

(10) In some cultures, a slang term applied to youth suggesting slovenliness, a predilection to petty crime and other anti-social behavior; also used widely in Scottish slang for a surprising variety of purposes including legs, trousers, dirt, scotch eggs, sex and women of loose virtue.

1590–1600: From a dialectal term for a stump, branch, or wooden peg, from the Dutch scheg (cutwater), of Scandinavian origin and related to the Swedish skog and the Old Norse & Icelandic skegg (projection on the stern of a boat).  In some Nordic languages, skegg means “beard” and was from the Old Norse skegg, from the Proto-Germanic skaggiją, from the primitive Indo-European skek, kek-, skeg & keg- (to jump, skip, move, hurry).  In English slang, skeggy is (1) the coastal Lincolnshire town of Skegness or (2) an inhabitant of Skegness.  The name of the Skegness is though a construct of the Old Norse skegg (beard) + -nes (headland) and was thought a reference to the geography, the original settlement situated farther east at the mouth of The Wash (thus jutting out like a beard from a face).  A link with the Faroese skegg (to jump, skip, move, hurry (and source of the given name "Skeggi")) is thought unlikely.  Skeg is a noun and skegged is an adjective; the noun plural is skegs.

A gang of four Sceggs, Sydney, Australia.

The skegs of nautical architecture should not be confused with the homophone Sceggs, the acronym for students of Sydney Church of England Girls Grammar School (S.C.E.G.G.S.), seen also in the adjectival forms sceggesque & sceggish (one whose style suggests something similar to the stereotypical student of the school); Those adjectives exist because Scegg is also "a look" and there are students from schools other than S.C.E.G.G.S so described, often in the form "she's such a scegg".  

Lindsay Lohan in wet suit, with surfboard, Malibu, 2011.  The stabilizing skeg is the black protrusion at the back of the board.

On nautical vessels, skegs where they exist fulfil a significant function but they are not an essential part of hull design.  A skeg is an external structural feature, a vertical tapering projection permanently fixed at the aft, usually close to the centre-line.  Most are located in front of the rudder and structurally can often be considered a sternward extension of the keel (the internal, longitudinal members which lend much strength of the hull).  Although in military vessels there are additional functions, the most significant contribution of a skeg is in hydrodynamics, a skeg designed to influence the flow patterns and thus affecting the dynamics of both the rudder (which is usually in line with the skeg) and propeller(s).  The design is thus a finely tuned equation because while a skeg inherently induces drag, the way it alters the flow pattern can reduces the drag and resistance suffered by the rudder and propeller(s), essentially by transforming the turbulent characteristics of the flow to laminar at the stern.  Historically, skegs were a vital component in maintaining a course and that’s still an important consideration in smaller vessels but in larger craft, improved rudder and advanced navigational as well as stabilization technologies like thrusters have meant skegs are no longer of the same significance in maintaining directionality.

An USN (US Navy) Iowa class battleship, showing the inner set of propeller shafts wholly enclosed in a pair of skegs.  On the big ships, the skegs were designed also to be load-bearing supports while in dry-dock.

In the modern age, skegs became an unusual feature on warships, a relative few so equipped and the designs varied, some with only par of their shafts inside skegs while others encased all.  Although the traditional design imperatives were shared with other ships, for navies, they offered the advantage of affording some degree of protection for rudders and propellers against torpedo attack.  Historically, another important attribute of skegs was what they added to a hull’s structural strength, making the (inherently weaker) stern resistant to outside forces and all the last of the US Navy’s dreadnoughts (Iowa, New Jersey, Missouri & Wisconsin, launched 1943-1944 and in commission variously until in 1992 the last was struck the Naval Vessel Register) featured skegs.  Their hulls narrowed towards the stern and to save weight lacked the sternpost plates the British, German and Japanese navies always fitted to their battleships; the skegs compensated for this, offering a hull with similar rigidity.

The US Navy’s South Dakota class battleships (South Dakota, Indiana, Massachusetts & Alabama, launched 1941-1942 and in commission 1942-1947) were fitted with an unusual set of skegs, the design dictated by the relatively short hull, the large outboard skegs helping to reduce the adverse effects of fluid dynamics induced by the stern's abrupt end.

However, advantages in engineering and metallurgy meant much of the functionality afforded by skegs came to be achieved in other ways so skegs became unfashionable in naval architecture.  The modeling and simulations made possible by supercomputers meant hull designs could be rendered which mastered the turbulence caused by fluid dynamics so rudders and propellers were less affected, making skegs in many cases a source of performance-sapping skin-friction drag with little compensating benefit.  Indeed, not only did this hamper performance, in some cases excessive vibration was caused, something which could only to a degree be ameliorated by changes to the propellers’ configurations.

Cadillac’s Skegs, 1961-1962

Cadillac Coupe DeVille: 1959 convertible (left) & 1960 hardtop (right).

The 1959 Cadillac’s tail-fins are the best remembered and most emblematic of the brief, extraordinary era during which the absurdly macropterous flourished.  They’re rightly known as “peak-fin” but it’s a myth they were the tallest because, measured from the ground, those on the 1961 Imperial are about a half-inch (12 mm) more vertiginous.  The attractions of the style however were fading and from 1960, GM began to tone things down, Chrysler following the lead (Ford and AMC (American Motors Corporation) never really got involved in the big fin business).  Another cultural phenomenon is that because of the large number of pink 1959 Cadillacs which now exist, many assume they were a common sight when new, the things perhaps made memorable by the sight of the one owned by the admirable Jayne Mansfield (1933–1967).  However, the factory never made a pink 1959 Cadillac and in the era, it was only in 1956 such a color was on the option list and Ms Mansfield had one of those while her 1959 convertible received a custom re-paint.

An inspiration, a step in the evolution and the result: A captured German V2 rocket (1945, left), a full-size clay mock up of a design proposal for the 1961 Cadillac (1958, centre) and 1961 Cadillac Coupe de Ville convertible (left).  The V2 is on display at the Australian War Museum, Canberra, Australia and the clay mock-up Cadillac was photographed at the General Motors Technical Center, Warren, Michigan.

For the 1961 range, Cadillac further pruned the fins but as compensation, the design staff added a "lower fin" and these, informally, they called “skegs”.  While in a sense just another of the era's many extravagances, the outgrowths could have been part of something even stranger because among the design proposals which emerged from the GMADS (GM Advanced Design Studios) was one which clearly was the ultimate expression of the motif of the 1950s which borrowed so much from the aerospace industry.  The proposed fins essentially were those of ballistic missiles which for decades were an evolution from the German Vergeltungswaffen zwei (V-2), developed first by the German military with the code name Aggregat 4 (A4).  Vergeltungswaffen is translated variously as "retaliatory weapons" or "reprisal weapons" but in English use is often written as “vengeance weapons”.  Aerodynamically, what was proposed by the ADS may have had something to commend it and certainly, such was the placement and size of the fins they'd have in some way interacted with the air-flow.  Whether the design was ever subjected to wind-tunnel testing (this was years before computers could emulate such research) isn't know but the look was sufficiently favored for an expensive, full-sized clay model to be rendered.  Ultimately the longer, though perhaps more restrained, skegs seen on the 1961 & 1962 cars were preferred.

1959 Buick Invicta Concept.

Detroit's stylists in the 1950s not only sketched a car with a big dorsal fin but authorization was granted to build one to test public reaction.  There was a precedent for the "third fin" because the Czech manufacturer Tatra had for years used them (out of necessity) and they'd provided essential stability for many LSR (land speed record) vehicles.  The Invicta concept didn't proceed to production.

Those who think Detroit's cars of the late 1950s & early 1960s were sometimes bizarre should look at the design proposals that were rejected.  Despite the clear exuberance in the the imagination, there's never been anything to suggest the stylists were stimulated by anything stronger than an after work martini.  Compared with some of the clay mock-ups, what emerged from the production lines hinted at rather than emulated missiles but should it be thought what was rendered in clay was wild, the archives of the GMTC (GM Technical Center) contain a wealth of sketches of truly bizarre design studies which didn't make the cut to reach the hands of the modelers.  Presumably, those sketches which survive are those the stylists thought deserved to be remembered and there must of been those which even the designer concluded needed to be shredded.  As the archives also demonstrate, those who criticize the fins and "bullet" taillights on the 1959 Cadillac have reasons to be grateful even stranger things were rejected.

Cadillac’s “skeg years”: 1961 (left) and 1962 (right).  There was a time when this sort of thing was just part of commercial orthodoxy. "The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there."

It was an era of annual styling changes and switching the orientation of taillights from the horizontal to vertical was typical of what stylists each season did to “refresh” the line, a process which came to be known as “facelifting” (ie a figurative use from cosmetic plastic surgery: altering the appearance while retaining the underlying structure).  Although this basic body would have a four-year life (1961-1964), the abandonment of the skegs for its final two seasons was, by facelift standards, a quite major update, one prompted by a change at the top of GM’s design’s studios.  Also of note is the roofline on the 1961 Cadillac four-window Sedan DeVille ((Body Style 6239, top left) which used an implementation of GM’s so-called “flat-top”.

1959 Chevrolet Impala Sport Sedan (Flat Top).  This was the year of the "bat-wings" and "cats eyes" taillights.

Along with the contemporary “bubbletop”, in its pure form, GM’s flat-top lasted only two seasons (1959-1960) but the two are now Detroit’s most admired rooflines of the post-war years.  The “bubbletop” was a direct tribute to fighter aircraft but the flat-top (it was also dubbed “Flying Wing” but GM internally referred to the blade-like structure as the “cantilevered top configuration”) was mid-century modernism.  Available exclusively on the four-door hardtops, each GM division (Chevrolet, Buick, Oldsmobile, Pontiac & Cadillac) offered the dramatic look (production-line rationalization made economically viable by all five sharing a single, core structure) although there were several designations.

1959 Cadillac Four Window Sedan (upper) and 1959 Pontiac Vista (lower).

Up-market Buick (Four-Door Hardtop), and Cadillac (Four Window Sedan) weren’t very imaginative while Chevrolet and Oldsmobile choose Sport Sedan; only Pontiac showed much imagination in picking Vista, an allusion to the unusually good 360^o visibility the style afforded (although the curves in the glass did produce some distortions).  Shamelessly, even after ceasing to offer flat-tops, Pontiac continued to use the Vista name.  Cadillac’s final flat-top fling came in 1961 with a modified version using less rear overhang but the market impact was muted, the more conventional six-window four-door outselling it by more than five-to-one margin as preferences shifted towards for formal lines.  However, the look didn’t at once die because it lingered on the four-door Chevrolet Corvair until 1965 and between 1962–1978 the motif appeared on the Alfa Romeo Giulia.

Cadillac’s take on the “long & slightly less long” of it: 1961 Cadillac Six Window Sedan de Ville (Body Style 6329L, left) and 1961 Cadillac Town Sedan (Body Style 6399C, right).  In the brochures, the terms “Town Sedan” and “Short Deck” both were used.

One quirk of Cadillac’s brief embrace of the skeg was there were two iterations: skeg long and skeg short.  Whether in response to dealer feedback or in anticipation of some owners preferring their Cadillac in a more conveniently sized package, between 1961-1963 a “short-deck” option was made available on certain body styles.  Offered first on the six-window Sedan de Ville (as the “Town Sedan”), an encouraging 3,756 were built so the option was in 1962 offered on the four-window de Ville Sedan (Body Style 6398 and now called “Park Avenue”) but sales dropped to 2600.  The coming of the 1963 models marked the retirement of the short-lived skegs which thus ended their brief moment as something decorative although they continued the functional role in marine architecture.

1963 Cadillac Four-Window Sedan de Ville (Body Style 6239, left) and 1963 Cadillac Sedan de Ville Park Avenue (Body Style 6398, right).

Although smaller cars were selling well in other market sectors, among Cadillac buyers, the decline of interest in anything smaller was confirmed in 1963 when only 1575 of the Park Avenues were sold.  The 129.5 inch (3289 mm) wheelbase was common to the whole Sedan de Ville range but the “short deck” models were shorter by 7 inches (178 mm) for the first two seasons and an even more obvious 8 inches (203 mm) in 1963.  Space utilization was obviously a little better but the market had spoken; fewer than 8,000 of the short-deck models sold while the standard editions shipped in the tens of thousands, the flirtation with (slightly) more efficient packaging abandoned for 1964; in the course of the following decade, the Sedan de Ville would grow another seven inches (178 mm) and gain over 400 lb (181 kg).  It should be noted that by international standards, the truck capacity of even the abbreviated models was still quite generous, able effortlessly to accommodate two sets of golf clubs, something which later became something of a de-facto standard used in assessing the practicality of sports cars.  Jaguar used this feature as a selling point when the XK8 (1996-2006) was introduced because it wasn’t possible with all versions of the old E-Type (1961-1974).

1958 Cadillac Series 62 : Extended Length Sedan (Body Style 6239EDX, left) and the standard Sedan (Body Style 6239, right).

There was in the early 1960s much criticism that “full-size” US cars had become too big but the “short deck” venture was a departure for Cadillac which had for some years been making things bigger and in 1958 the company had even included the “Series 62 Extended Length Sedan”.  The Series 62 Sedan was already an impressive 216.8 inches (5.5 m) long but the Extended Length version measured an even more imposing 225.3 (5.7), the additional 8.5 inches (216 mm) all in the rear deck, creating a more capacious trunk (boot).  Whether buyers just liked the look or there really were a lot of them with much luggage, the elongated sedan sold well, some one in five of the sedans having the big trunk and there was of course a healthy industry in jokes about Mafia functionaries and other figures in organized crime grateful finally to have more space to transport the corpses.  Surprisingly perhaps, despite mafia hit men contributing to to sales numbers of 20,952 of the 103,455 (excluding Eldorados and “chassis only” sales) Series 62s produced in 1958 (some 20%), the Extended Length Sedan proved a single-season one-off.

For 1963, the short-deck models might have re-appeared for another dismal season but the skegs were abandoned, never to return.  The fins the design studio found harder to forsake, conscious perhaps it was on the 1948 Cadillac they’d first appeared.  Then, modestly sized, they’d been an allusion to the tail-planes used on the twin-boomed Lockheed P-38 Lightning (1939) but the fashion had passed and the fins had to go so, inch by inch, there was a retreat from the heights and exuberance of 1959 until in 1966 they were vestigial, a hint which for decades would be retained.

1961 Oldsmobile Super 88.  The rear skegs were thought necessary to offset the “pointed-look” of the fenders and the front ones (the closest equivalent in nautical use being hydrofoils) were there just so the front bumper matched the lines of the rear, emulating Pontiac’s approach in 1959.

Within GM, the skegs were not exclusive to Cadillac, appearing also on the 1961 full-sized Oldsmobile 88 & 98 although the motivation of the designers differed.  What Cadillac in 1961-1962 did was nothing more than a styling gimmick, concocted at a time when it was obvious the moment of the big fins was passing but the motif still exerted such a pull that they were re-interpreted on the path to extinction.  In the Oldsmobile design office, the skeg had a different purpose, the protrusions deemed necessary as a device to counterbalance the rearward point of the quarter panel that terminated in a “cigar-shape”.  Mercedes-Benz had used a (more conventional) variation of the idea of a “balancing appendage” when in 1957 the 300d (W189, 1957-1962) appeared with rear fenders enlarged and re-shaped to disguise the pre-war style of the coachwork used on the W186 (300, 300b & 300c; 1951-1957) which came to be referred to as the "Adenauer" because several were used as state cars by Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany, 1949-1990).

1969 Alfa Romeo Spider (Duetto).

Interesting, between 1966-1969, the Alfa Romeo Spider (Type 105/155 and known informally known as the Duetto) featured the memorable Osso di Seppia (round-tail, literally “cuttlefish”) coachwork which resembled what Oldsmobile did in 1961.  After 1970 and until the end of production in 1994, the Spider used variants of the Kamm tail which increased luggage capacity and presumably also conferred some aerodynamic advantage.  A professional designer could write a long, learned essay explaining why the later Kamm tail was a more accomplished achievement which avoided the Osso di Seppia's flaws but in the collector market it's the cigar-shaped original the purists covet.  Had the Italians added skegs as Oldsmobile did, they’d have had more about which to complain.

1959 Pontiac Bonneville Convertible.  In 1959 Pontiac’s big news was the “split grill” which would for decades be a brand signature and the five inch (125 mm) increase in the track, lending the division that year’s most memorable slogan: “Year of the Wide Track”.  Given all that, the modest skegs weren’t much noticed, especially because, at the rear, eyes were drawn to the pair of small blades adorning the upper surface.  The idea was first seen on the 1953 Chevrolet Corvette (where they’d appeared on the taillight nacelles (pods)) and although often referred to as “finettes”, in the documents of the GM Design Studio they were “taillight bezels” or “ornamental finlets”.

1959 Pontiacs: Bonneville (left) and Catalina (right).

The skegs were less noticeably skeggish than the later implementations by Oldsmobile and Cadillac because they were smaller and, at the rear, installed in the horizontal rather than the acute angle which made them so obvious on Cadillacs.  At the front, the angle was less than adopted by Oldsmobile.  Pontiac also used the “long rear deck” as a marker of a model’s place in the hierarchy, the Bonneville at 220.7 in (5,606 mm) in length being seven inches longer than the lower-priced Catalina at 213.7 in (5,428 mm).  While two inches (25 mm) of the difference was absorbed by the Bonneville’s longer wheelbase (124 in (3,150 mm) vs 122 inches (3,099 mm), the remaining bulk was found in eth rear deck.  However, unlike the Cadillacs, there were no “short & long skegs”, the bumpers of both Pontiacs being identical although there were other markers of “pricetaggery”, the Bonneville’s elliptical taillights noticeably elongated.

1955 Ford La Tosca.

A half-decade before Cadillac decided their customers needed skegs, Detroit had pondered the idea.  Shown in 1955, Ford’s La Tosca (named apparently after Giacomo Puccini’s (1858–1924) three act opera Tosca (1900) although the intended connection seems to have been a general sense of the “emotional and dramatic” rather than the fate of the doomed protagonist) was unusual in that it appeared not as a full-scale “concept car” but in the form of a ⅜ scale model, used to demonstrate the possibilities offered by a remote-controlled chassis, directed through the medium of radio waves.  To achieve this, rather than build custom components (as the Pentagon would have done), Ford’s engineers dipped into the corporate parts bin and wired together the regulator and relay from a power window apparatus, the electric motor used to lower a convertible’s soft-top, a power seat mechanism and a standard, 12 volt car battery.  The system worked flawlessly and, depending on the topography, La Tosca could remotely be controlled at distances greater than a mile (1.6 km).  According to Ford records, the project began simply as an “…internal exercise to show students in the Advanced Studio how hard it was, even for professional designers, to design a car” but so long did the model take to complete (the complex curves and canted structures challenging to render in what was then the still novel fibreglass) that “mission creep” intruded, thus the radio-controlled chassis.

1954 Lincoln Futura (1954) and Ford Mystere (1955).  In Detroit, these were at the time typical of what was authorized to be built as "concept cars", machines destined for the show circuit to gauge public reaction.  If they now seem rather wild, much of what never left the stylists' (they weren't yet "designers") sketch pads and drawing boards truly was bizarre.  

Stylistically, La Tosca was in the vein of the corporation’s other concept vehicles of the era such as the Lincoln Futura (1954) and Ford Mystere (1955), the trio reflecting the way the industry was applying motifs from missiles and jet-propelled aircraft such as Perspex bubble-tops, tubes, fins and exhaust nacelles.  Most of these proved to be brief, though memorable, fads of jet-age aesthetics although elements were easily recognizable in the 1958 Lincoln and GM of course would later take up the skegs.  The remote-control concept was ahead of its time though it did find a niche in model cars and aircraft.  In the twenty-first century, new versions of the technology are now mainstream with cranes, trucks and trains routinely operated from sometimes thousands of miles away although usually on mine-sites and other remote locations (experiments with vehicles on public roads are being undertaken).  Despite these advances, the industry regards the technology as transitional and intends as soon as practicable to remove the human (and thus costly and unreliable) element completely, re-allocating control to an entirely autonomous AI (artificial intelligence) model which, without complaint or toilet breaks, can be worked 24/7/365.