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 Direct 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.      

Shuttle

Shuttle (pronounced shuht-l)

(1) In weaving, a device in a loom for passing or shooting the weft thread through the shed from one side of the web to the other, usually consisting of a boat-shaped piece of wood containing a bobbin on which the weft thread is wound (ie the tool which carries the woof back and forth (shuttling) between the warp threads on a loom).

(2) In a sewing machine, the sliding container (thread-holder) that carries the lower thread through a loop of the upper thread to make a lock-stitch.

(3) In transport, a public conveyance (bus, train, ferry, car, limousine, aircraft etc) that travels back and forth at regular intervals over a particular route, especially a short route or one connecting two transportation systems; the service provided by such vehicles.

(4) In badminton, as shuttlecock, the lightweight object, built with a weighted (usually rubber-covered) semi-spherical nose attached to a conical construction (historically of feathers but now usually synthetic) and used as a ball is used in other racquet games. Shuttlecock was also once widely used as the name of the game but this is now rare.

(5) As space shuttle, vehicle designed to transport people & cargo between Earth and outer-space, designed explicitly re-use with a short turn-around between missions (with initial capital letters of the US craft).  The term shuttlecraft is the generic alternative.  “Space shuttle” most associated with the US vehicle (1981-2011).

(6) To cause (someone or something) to move back and forth by or as if by a shuttle, often in the form “shuttling”.

(7) Any device that repeatedly moves back and forth between two positions, either transporting something or transferring energy between those points.

(8) In electrical engineering, as "shuttle armature", the H-shaped armature in the that is an elongated shuttle with wires running longitudinally in grooves, used in small electrical generators or motors, having a single coil wound upon a the bobbin, the latter usually formed in soft iron.

(9) In diplomacy, as shuttle diplomacy, the practice of a diplomat from a third country shuttling between two others countries to conduct negotiations, the two protagonists declining directly to meet.

Pre 900: Shuttle was a merge from two sources. From (1) the Middle English shutel, shotel, schetel, schettell, schyttyl & scutel (bar; bolt), from the Old English sċyttel & sċutel (bar; bolt), the notion being shut +‎ -le.  Shut was from the Middle English shutten & shetten, from the Old English scyttan (to cause rapid movement, shoot a bolt, shut, bolt), from the Proto-Germanic skutjaną & skuttijaną (to bar, to bolt), from the Proto-Germanic skuttą & skuttjō (bar, bolt, shed), from the primitive Indo-European skewd & kewd- (to drive, fall upon, rush). The -le suffix was from the Middle English -elen, -len & -lien, from the Old English -lian (the frequentative verbal suffix), from the Proto-Germanic -lōną (the frequentative verbal suffix) and was cognate with the West Frisian -elje, the Dutch -elen, the German -eln, the Danish -le, the Swedish -la and the Icelandic -la.  It was used as a frequentative suffix of verbs, indicating repetition or continuousness.  From (2) the Middle English shitel (missile; a weaver's instrument), shutel, schetil, shotil, shetel, schootyll, shutyll, schytle & scytyl (missile; projectile; spear), from the Old English sċytel, sċutel (dart, arrow) (related to the Middle High German schüzzel and the Swedish skyttel), from the Proto-Germanic skutilaz, (related to the Middle High German schüzzel and the Swedish skyttel) and cognate with the Old Norse skutill (harpoon), the idea akin to both shut & shoot.  Shuttle is a noun, verb & adjective, shuttling is a noun & verb and shuttled and shuttles are verbs; the noun plural is shuttles.  The adjectival form shuttle-like is more common than the rare shuttlesque (which is listed as non-standard by the few sources to acknowledge its dubious existence).

A Lindsay Lohan advertising mural on the back of one of the airport shuttle buses run by Milan Malpensa International Airport in northern Italy.

The original sense in English is long obsolete, supplanted by the senses gained from the weaving instrument, so called since 1338 on the notion of it being “shot backwards and forwards” across the threads.  The transitive sense (move something rapidly to and fro) was documented from the 1540s, the same idea attached to the shuttle services in transport, first used in 1895 (although the intransitive sense of “go or move backward and forward like a shuttle” had been in use by at least 1843) in early versions of what would come to be known as the intra-urban RTS (rapid transit systems), the one train running back and forth on a single line between fixed destinations (often with intermediate stops).  This was picked up by ferry services in 1930, air routes in 1942, space travel in 1960 (in SF (science fiction)) and (real) spacecraft in 1969.  Shuttle in the sense it evolved in English is used in many languages but a separate development was the naming of the weaving instrument based on its resemblance to a boat (the Latin navicula, the French navette and the German Weberschiff).  The noun shuttlecock dates from the 1570s, the “shuttle” element from it being propelled backwards and forwards over a net and the “cock” an allusion to the attached anti-aerodynamic construction (originally of feathers) which resembled a male bird's plume of tail feathers.  The term shuttle diplomacy came into use in the 1970s thanks to tireless self-promotion by Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977) although the practice (of “good offices”) dates back centuries.

The Abbotsleigh class of 2020 pondering time flying faster than a weaver’s shuttle.  This was the first of the "Covid generation" so the lack of social distancing can be explained only by them all having "tested negative".

The motto of the Sydney girl’s school Abbotsleigh is tempus celerius radio fugit (Time flies faster than a weaver's shuttle), the idea behind that said to be: “As the shuttle flies a pattern is woven, with the threads being the people, buildings and events. The pattern is Abbotsleigh as it continues to grow in complexity and richness each year”.  Quite whether a weaver’s shuttle (said by some detractors to have been chosen as symbolic of the "proper" place of women being in a state of domestic servitude for the convenience of men) is appropriate for a girls’ school in the twenty-first century has been debated.  The motto came from the family crest of Marian Clarke (1853-1933), Abbotsleigh’s first headmistress (principle) and was maintained using the family’s grammatically dubious form tempus fugit radio celerity until 1924 when the correct syntax was substituted.  It’s an urban myth the mistake was permitted to stand until 1924 as a mark of respect while Ms Clarke was alive; she lived a decade odd after the change although the family’s heraldry was apparently never corrected.

The US (left) and USSR (centre) space shuttles compared with a badminton shuttlecock (right).  The shuttlecock is rendered in a larger scale than the shuttles and although the shapes are similar, travelling in "opposite directions" the purposes differ, the lines of the shuttles optimized for efficiency while the shuttlecock is an unusual example in aerodynamics of "planned inefficiency".

Counterintuitively, badminton is (in a narrow technical sense) the world’s “fastest racquet sport”.  In controlled conditions, the maximum speed achieved by a shuttlecock in flight is listed at 565 km/h (351 mph) and during sanctioned competitive tournament play, 417 km/h (259 mph) has been recorded.  A shuttlecock attains such speeds only briefly, directly after coming off the racquet and before the skirt shape creates its massive aerodynamic drag; by the time a shuttlecock arrives to be returned by the opposing player, the velocity considerably has been reduced.  Professional players however don’t seek with every serve or return-shot to generate maximum power because, as in tennis and cricket where the unexpected “slower ball” can be effective, in badminton, a well-disguised slower shuttlecock can deceive.

Three of the great landmarks of the analogue era: Space Shuttle Enterprise (OV-101, the first orbiter, used for atmospheric test flights that never flew in space) atop NASA 905 SCA (Shuttle Carrier Aircraft, one of two modified Boeing 747s used to ferry shuttles from landing sites back to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida and a BA (British Airways) Concorde taking off, Paris Air Show, 1983.

The US Space Shuttle was operated by NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) between 1981-2011 as the low Earth orbital vehicle and served as the platform for its STS (Space Transportation System).  The plans, based on ideas a decade earlier explored in SF for a (mostly) reusable spacecraft were first laid down in 1969 and, despite intermittent funding and the odd threat by Congress to "defund", test flights were able to be undertaken in 1981.  Five Space Shuttles eventually were built to completion and between 1981-2011, there were over a hundred missions but the stresses imposed on the craft were considerable, meaning more maintenance was required than originally envisaged so mission turn-arounds were never as rapid as had been hoped and the extent to which components could be reused had to be revised (downwards, many reclassified as "single-use").  There was controversy too about the failures in NASA’s procedures that resulted in the two accidents in which all seven crew aboard each shuttle were killed.  The programme was retired in 2011.

Lindsay Lohan getting off the NAPA Shuttle, The Parent Trap (1998).  "NAPA" here is not an acronym, the reference is to California's Napa Valley, noted for wine tours.

Common in the early days of civil aviation, the term "to disembark" (get off) was borrowed from nautical use and was the companion to "embark" (get on).  Of late "to deplane" has entered English which seems unnecessary but the companion "to disemplane" was more absurd still; real people continue to "get on" and "get off" aircraft.  It seemed to be a trend because on railway platforms it has become not uncommon to hear "detrain" (passengers leaving the carriage), a use distinct from "derail" (railway locomotives or un-powered rolling-stock "coming off the rails").  

The Soviet Union’s space shuttle, construction of which began in 1980, unsurprisingly, was visually very similar to the US vehicle, there being only so many ways optimally to do these things.  The USSR’s effort was the Буран (Buran) (Snowstorm or Blizzard), the craft sharing the designation with the Soviet spaceplane project and its spaceships, known as "Buran-class orbiters".  Although more than a dozen frames were laid down, few were ever completed to be flight-ready and the Buran’s only flight was an un-crewed orbital mission in 1988 that although successful, proved a one-off.  The deteriorating economic and political situation in the Soviet Union (1922-1991) saw the programme stall and in 1993 it was abandoned by the new Russian government, now faced with more problems more urgently demanding the allocation of scarce resources.  The striking similarity between the profile of the US & Soviet space shuttles and a badminton shuttlecock is coincidental but not unrelated.  The space craft are designed as aerodynamic platforms because, although not of relevance in the vacuum of space, they did have to operate as aircraft while operating in Earth’s atmosphere whereas the shuttlecock is designed deliberately as an anti-aerodynamic shape.  The shuttle’s shape was dictated by the need to maximize performance whereas a shuttlecock is intentionally inefficient, the shape maximizing air-resistance (drag) so it slows in flight.

El rapto de Europa (The Rape of Europa (1628-1629)), oil on canvas by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), Prado Museum, Madrid.  It follows a 1562 work in the same vein by Tiziano Vecelli (circa 1489-1576 and known in English as Titian).

The shuttle can be weaponized.  In Greek mythology, Αράχνη (Arachne) was a Lydian girl (Lydia an ancient iron-age kingdom in western Asia Minor (the modern-day Republic of Türkiye (Turkey)) who produced weaving and embroidery so exquisite nymphs from all around would gather to watch her fingers work the threads.  Such was the virtuosity, word spread she must have been the pupil of Athena (goddess, inter alia, of spinners & embroiderers) but although that was quite an endorsement, Arachne had an artisan’s pride in her craft and refused to attribute to skill to another, even a goddess.  Angered by the story being widely believed, Arachne challenged Athena who responded by first appearing to her in the guise of an old woman, entreating the proud embroider to behave with greater modesty.  Unimpressed, Arachne spat out insults, at which point, the goddess threw off her disguise and demanded a contest.  Dramatically, Athena created a stunning tapestry showing in all their majesty the twelve Olympian gods with, in each corner, a depiction of the defeat of mortals who had dared defy the gods; an unsubtle but unambiguous threat.  Arachne took as her theme the least creditable of the love affairs of the gods: Zeus and the rape of Europa, a kind of proto #metoo moment in Antiquity.  The work was of course executed to perfection but the subject so enraged Athena she tore it to shreds and struck her rival with her own shuttle.  At this, Arachne lost heart, ran off and hanged herself.  Hell however hath no fury like a goddess angered and Athena refused to let her die, transforming her into a spider, doomed forever to spin and weave its web.

Dr Henry Kissinger, shuttling between dinner companions (left to right), Dolly Parton (b 1946), Diane von Furstenberg (b 1946), Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) and Carla Bruni (b 1967).  It was Dr Kissinger who coined the phrase: "Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac", a conclusion he reached on an empirical basis. 

The term "shuttle diplomacy" describes the process in which a mediator travels repeatedly between two or more parties involved in a conflict or negotiation, in circumstances where the protagonists are unable or unwilling to meet.  Ostensibly, the purpose of shuttle diplomacy is to facilitate communication between the parties and reach a resolution of the dispute(s) but, being inherently political, it can be used for other, less laudable goals.  The practice, if not the term, has a long history, instances noted from Antiquity and the Holy Roman Empire was renowned for the (nominally) neutral diplomats who would travel back and forth between kings, princes, dukes and cardinals.  During both the Conference of Vienna (1814-1815) and the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920) the negotiations were marked by sometimes intransigent politicians sitting in rooms while a professionally disinterested notable would shuttle between them, oiling the machinery by giving and taking until either a common acquiescence was extracted or the matter was "referred to a committee".  A celebrated example of the process played out between 1939-1940 when Swedish businessman Birger Dahlerus (1891-1957) played a quixotic role as amateur diplomat, shuttling between London and Berlin in what proved a doomed attempt to avoid war.  It long seen as something noble (if misguided) and it was only years later (when the UK Foreign Office’s papers on the matter were declassified) the extent of the Swede’s conflicts of interest were revealed.

Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974, left) meets Dr Henry Kissinger (1923-2023; US national security advisor 1969-1975 and secretary of state 1937-1977, right).  Although there were in the past those who would now be thought "celebrity diplomats", Dr Kissinger was the first to be so-labeled.  He'd not have disagreed.

The term entered the language in 1973 when Dr Henry Kissinger used it to refer to his efforts to negotiate an end to the Yom Kippur War between Israel and its Arab neighbors.  Kissinger shuttled between Tel Aviv, Cairo and other Middle Eastern capitals in an attempt to broker a ceasefire and improve diplomatic relations, enjoying some success, and contributing to the achievement of a bilateral peace between Egypt and Israel as well as a number of disengagement agreements (admittedly, all of them would likely anyway have happened by virtue of "military necessity").  Moreover, some historians and foreign policy scholars, while acknowledging what was achieved, have suggested it was the Kissinger’s approach to the region in the years leading up to the war that played some part in the outbreak of hostilities.

Kissinger has also been criticized on the basis that shuttle diplomacy was to him never much more than playing a game of realpolitik on a multi-dimensional chessboard rather than an attempt to imagine a regional architecture able to secure a comprehensive peace plan in the Middle East, his emphasis on obtaining something in the interest of the US (a treaty between Egypt and Israel), meaning the vital issue of Palestine and its potential to assist in a long-term settlement not just neglected but ignored.  In fairness, it must be said that lip-service apart, the Arab states took the plight of the Palestinians about as seriously, the only consensus among the being: "We don't want the Palestinians coming here".  Cynics, noting his university background (he'd been also a minor "celebrity academic" before being co-opted by various politicians) and research interests, compared the "shuttling" with the travels of emissaries in the Holy Roman Empire who would travel between the Holy See, palaces and chancelleries variously to reassure the troubled, sooth hurt feelings, cajole the diffident and, where possibe, issue threats.  This was the idea of Henry the self-promoting celebrity who could bring peace to Vietnam and Nixon to China, the political wizard who solved problems as they arose.  Certainly, the circumstances in which Kissinger was able to use shuttle diplomacy as a political narrative were both unique and something of his own creation.  He’d first undermined and then replaced William Rogers (1913–2001; US secretary of state 1969-1973) as secretary of state and even before becoming the last major figure still standing from Richard Nixon’s first term as the Watergate affair took its toll, essentially took personal control of the direction of US foreign policy.  As he put it “…one of the more cruel torments of Nixon’s Watergate purgatory was my emergence as the preeminent figure in foreign policy”.

Prize by proxy: Dr Kissinger (left) receiving the 1973 Nobel Peace Prize from Dr Thomas Byrne (1923-2014; US Ambassador to Norway 1973-1976, right), Claridge's Hotel, London, 12 December, 1973.

Some of that shuttling was in 1973 recognized when Kissinger and Lê Đức Thọ Lê Đức Thọ (1911–1990; North Vietnamese communist functionary and negotiator) jointly were offered the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts in what was, somewhat prematurely, called the “Paris Peace Accords”.  On the basis a state of armed conflict still existed in his country, Lê Đức Thọ declined to accept the prize while Kissinger crafted a compromise which earlier shuttler Prince Klemens von Metternich (1773-1859; Foreign Minister of the Austrian Empire 1809-1848 & Chancellor 1821-1848) would have admired: He took the medal, donated the prize money to be used eleemosynarily and was a no-show at the prize ceremony (he cited "prior international commitments", a variant of "diplomatic toothache").  After the fall of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) although the old name persists in popular use) in 1975, Kissinger offered to return his medal but the committee declined, by then presumably not wishing further to draw attention to them ever having made the award.

Elizabeth Holmes in black gown with (a perhaps optimistic) cleavage slit.  Until he met Elizabeth Holmes (b 1984; CEO of US biotech company Theranos 2003-2018), nothing fooled Henry.

So, opportunistic his initiatives may have been but there were after all real problems to be solved and it seems unfair to criticize Kissinger for doing what he did rather than constructing some counter-factual grand design that might have crafted a permanent, settled peace in the Middle East.  Among realists (and Kissinger was dean of the school), even then there were few who believed such a thing was anyway still possible possible (certainly since the conclusion of the Six-Day War (1967)) and Kissinger certainly achieved something and to do that it’s necessary to understand there are some problems that can never be solved and only endlessly managed.  Genuinely, some problems are insoluble, something lost on many US presidents infected more than most by the diminishing but still lingering feelings of optimism and exceptionalism that have for centuries characterized the American national character.