Showing posts sorted by date for query Stack. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query Stack. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Saturday, May 2, 2026

Haystack

Haystack (pronounced hey-stak)

(1) A stack, pile or bindle of hay (cut grass) with a conical or ridged top, built up in the mowed field so as to prevent the accumulation of moisture and promote drying.

(2) Any mix of green leafy plants used for fodder.

(3) In the slang of weed smokers, (1) a device (pipe or bong) with an untypically large bowl in which the marijuana is able to be packed in an unusually large quantity or (2) any device where the weed is stacked above the rim of the cone piece.

(3) In slang, among disapproving carnivores, a disparaging terms for salads or dishes made predominately with leafy greens.

Mid 1400s: The construct was hay + stack.  Hay (mown grass) was a pre-900 Middle English word from the Old English hēg, from the Anglian Old English heg & heig and the West Saxon Old English hig (grass cut or mown for fodder), from the Proto-Germanic haujam (literally “that which is cut” or “that which can be mowed”), from the primitive Indo-European kau- (to hew, strike) which was the source also of the Old English heawan (“to cut” and linked to the modern English “to hew”).  Hay’s cognates included the Old Norse hey, the Old Frisian ha, the Middle Dutch hoy, the Gothic hawi, the West Frisian hea, the Alemannic German Heuw, the Cimbrian höobe, the Dutch hooi, the German Heu, the Luxembourgish Hee, the Mòcheno hei, the Yiddish היי (hey), the Danish , the Faroese hoyggj, the Gutnish hoy, the Icelandic hey, the Norwegian Bokmål, the Norwegian Nynorsk høy and the Swedish ; all meant “hay” although use to refer also to grass (later to be used as hay) is documented.  Hay is the ISO’s (International Standards Organization) translingual (symbol ISO 639-3) language code for Haya and, in slang, one of many terms for marijuana (cannabis).  A hay is a net set around the haunt of an animal (especially rabbits or hares).

1962 BRM P57.

In its original configuration the P57's V8 was fitted with “open stack” exhausts.  Sadly, the charismatic array of eight pipes proved prone to cracking and was replaced with a more conventional arrangement which sacrificed a few HP (horsepower) at the upper end of the rev-range but proved robust.  Built for Formula One's voiturette era” (1961-1965) and powered by a jewel-like 1.5 litre V8, the P57 in 1962 claimed both the constructer's and driver's championships.  Open stack exhausts are still seen in categories like drag racing but there they need to endure only for ¼ mile (402 metre) runs and (baring accidents) are not subject to lateral forces.

Stack dates from 1250–1300 and was from the Middle English stak (pile, heap or group of things, especially a pile of grain in the sheaf in circular or rectangular form), from a Scandinavian source akin to the Old Norse stakkr (haystack), thought from the Proto-Germanic stakkoz & stakon- (a stake), from the primitive Indo-European stog- a variant of steg (pole; stick (source of the English “stake”, the Old Church Slavonic stogu (heap), the Russian stog (haystack) and the Lithuanian stokas (pillar)).  It was cognate with the Danish stak and the Swedish stack (heap, stack).  “Smokestack” and the derived clipping “stack” were by the 1660s in use to describe tall chimneys, initially when arrayed in a cluster but by 1825 it’s recorded also of the “single stacks” on steam locomotives and steamships.  In English parish records, “Stack” is recorded as a surname as early as the twelfth century and there are a variety of explanations for the origin (which may between regions have differed) and in at least some cases there may be a connection with use of “stack” in agriculture (such as peripatetic workers who travelled between farms specifically to “build haystacks”).  In societies where so much of the economy was based on farming and populations substantially were rural, such links were common.    

Wickes-class four stack destroyer USS Buchanan (DD-131), “laying down smoke during sea trials, 1919.

One of the US Navy's 273 World War I (1914-1918) era “four stackers”, in 1940 she was transferred to the Royal Navy under the Destroyers for Bases Agreement and re-named HMS Campbeltown (I42).  She was destroyed during the St. Nazaire Raid when, loaded with four tons of explosive, she was used a “floating bomb” and rammed into the gates of the Forme Ecluse Louis Joubert dry dock, putting the facility out of use for the duration of the war.

In naval use, the official Admiralty term was “funnel” and warships were in some listings (especially identification charts which used silhouettes) listed thus (“three funnel cruiser”; “four funnel destroyer”) but the sailors’ slang was “two stacker”, “three stacker” etc.  In libraries, “stacks” in the sense of “set of shelves on which books arranged) was in use by the late 1870s and in computer software, the “stack” was first documented in 1960 to describe a collection of elements which work in unison, the original idea being of a stack of things, each subsequent object depending on the one below to run and by the time all are assembled, the whole can function (ie an early instance of “granular” software”).  Later, the word was applied to other concepts, notably the LIFO (last in, first out) model in data structure (LIFO) describing objects added (push) and removed (pop) from the same end.  Stack is a noun & verb, stackage, stacker & stackback are nouns, stacking is a noun & verb, stacked is a verb & adjective and stackless, stacky & stackful are adjectives; the noun plural is stacks.  Haystack is a noun; the noun plural is haystacks.

In Middle English, the alternative forms were hay-cock and its variants (haycok, hacoke & haycoke), all synonymous with grass-cock, hayrick & haystack and referencing the same conical stacks of cut grass.  The haystack was a product of the cutting of grass and subsequently curing it to make hay as fodder for animals.  Just as cheese was made as a means of preserving milk for later consumption, so the cutting a stacking of hay was a way to ensure there would be feed for livestock during the months when the growth of grass was minimal.  There are many derived terms associated with haymaking and haystacks (hayfork, hayknife, haybailer hay mover, hay rake, hayshed etc) but there’s no evidence “haystacker” was ever used of those individuals who “stacked hay into haystacks”.  The form “haymaker” exists but this seems to have been coined to describe machines built for the purpose rather than the workers.  This is likely because it was a seasonal event in which many farm-workers (although there clearly were some “travelling contractors” who went from farm-to-farm) tended to be involved and, needed no specialized skill-set, the term never appeared; it was a task done rather than a job description.

A young lady with hayfork (now better known as a “pitchfork”, building her haystack.

The haystack was a part of agricultural practice even before the civilizations of Antiquity (Egyptians, Greeks, Romans etc) developed the process on a grander scale.  The objective of stacking the hay in conical formations was as protection from pests and the elements and farmers paid much attention to location, the ideal site for a haystack being somewhere slightly elevated, well-drained and with a foundation not prone to promoting moisture absorption (ideally with a bottom layer of some coarse material to promote air-flow between hay and surface.  Usually, a pole was pounded into the ground to prove the structure with a basic structural rigidity and as each layer is added and compacted, the stack grows upwards and outwards, assuming the distinctive shape, the angles at the top fashioned to optimize the shedding of rainwater.  In a sense, the outermost layer is sacrificial in that it will weather and discolour but, if the structure is well-packed, what lies within will retain its green hue and smell “sweet” to livestock.

American Sapphic, Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) & former special friend Samantha Ronson (b 1977) by Ben Tegel after American Gothic (1930) by Grant Wood (1891-1942).  Ms Ronson is depicted holding pitchfork, a tool which, for the manual handling of hay, cannot be improved; like the teaspoon or pencil, it has attained its final evolutionary form.

A “Hawaiian haystack” is a meal of rice with the diner's choice of toppings such as chicken, pineapple, noodles and cheese; a favorite of resort style hotels and cruise ship operators, usually the dish is served buffet-style.  The slang phrase “hit the hay” dates from at least the early nineteenth century when literally it meant “to go to the barn and sleep on an ad-hoc “bed of hay” but by 1903 it was being recorded as meaning simply “going to bed”.  A “roll in the hay” or “romp in the hay” were both euphemisms for “a session of sexual intercourse (usually without any hint of subsequent commitment) and that use is documented only from early in World War II (1939-1945) among US soldiers but when the expression first was used is unknown.  The term “haywire” (usually as “gone haywire” or “gone haywire”) originally meant “likely to become tangled unpredictably to the point of unusability or fall apart”; the idea was of items bound together only with the soft, springy wire (baler twine) used to bind hay bales.  It’s said first to have been used as “haywire outfit” in New England lumber camps (circa 1905) to describe collections of logging tools bound in a haphazard manner and prone to coming adrift.  From that, “haywire” enjoyed some mission creep and came to mean people or machinery behaving erratically or falling apart.  In the modern idiom, the most common use (as “went haywire”) is to describe some act (such as removing a part from a machine) which results in the whole mechanism becoming messed up.

Cylindrical (“rounds” in the jargon) bales of hay stacked in a field.

The figurative term “needlestack” summons the idea of a “stack of needles” and is an allusion to the difficulty in finding a particular object among one of many which are similar or even close to identical.  The word was a back-formation from the phrase “finding a needle in a haystack” which is a much more popular expression although finding a needle in a needlestack is much harder.  Finding a needle in a haystack is merely messy and time-consuming whereas finding a needle in a needlestack can at least verge on the impossible.  The popular TV science show Mythbusters compared methods and found there were techniques which could “speed up” finding a needle in a haystack”, the use of water most efficient (metal being heavier than straw, the needle would sink) while fire worked but was slow and messy and a magnet was ideal (assume the needle remained ferromagnetic).  Obviously, giant magnets, metal detectors or X-ray machines quickly would find even tiny pieces of metal but the Mythbusters crew wanted practical, “real world” examples which would have been viable centuries earlier when first the phrase was used.  The finding of a “bone needle” was considered to be more difficult (fire not recommended and a magnet obviously useless) and the team concluded that whatever the method, the task remained challenging enough for the saying still to have validity.

Haystack News which finds needles in the haystack”.

Founded in 2013, what prompted the creation of Haystack TV was that in the US, without a cable TV subscription, it was difficult to find news content, the idea being that finding news among the dozens of available channels was like “looking for a needle in a haystack”.  It took until 2015 for the service to start with Haystack TV mission statement saying its objective was to “stream high-quality, trusted news without sifting through masses of irrelevant video.  Now known as Haystack News, the model is a free, advertising supported streaming service for local, national and international news video available on smart TVs, over-the-top platforms and mobile apps; in the modern way, data (location, topics of interest, favorite sources etc) harvested from each user is used to generate personalized playlist of short news clips.  Initially, the focus was on US news content but in 2019, the vista expanded with clips from more than 200 local TV stations including overseas content.  By 2026, the catchment had expanded to some 400 including Africanews, Al Jazeera, CBC, DW (Deutsche Welle, Euronews, France 24 and i24 News.

A haymaker (in the Middle English originally heymakere) was a machine (purpose built or adapted) used in the production of hay (there's scant evident ever it widely was used of workers involved in the process) and in informal use was “a very powerful punch”, especially one which “knocks down an opponent” (on the model of the sweep of a scythe levelling tall grass).  However, some etymologists suggest a more likely origin is as a reference to the strong, muscular arms of the men who wielded the scythes when “cutting hay”.  Figuratively, by extension, it came also to mean “any decisive blow, shock, or forceful action” although that use is now less common.  A haymonger (from the Middle English heimongere, heymonger & heymongere) was “a trader who deals in hay” and although the practices were never formalized in the manner of modern commodity markets, surviving documents suggest that as early as the 1500s there was something like a “proto futures market” in hay as farmers sought to hedge against variables (flood, drought price movements etc) and ensure they’d have a stock of fodder available at a known price.  Hayseeds literally were “seeds from grass that has become hay” and the word was applied generally to the cruft from bits of hay (ie not actually seeds) that sticks to clothing etc.  By extension, a “hayseed” was “a yokel or country bumpkin” (ie a person thought rustic or unsophisticated).

Bales of hay, stacked in a hay shed.  

Manufacturers list hay sheds as specific designs (classically, two or three sides (facing the prevailing weather) and a roof) so if a hay shed is used for another purpose it's a “re-purposed hay shed” whereas if hay is stored in a different type of shed, it might be described as my hay shed” but its really a shed in which hay is being stored.  Being practical folk, this distinction is unlikely to be something on which many farmers much dwell.

Originally, haystacks were “stack of hay: which might vary in size and shape but the general practice was to create something vaguely conical; rather than being a choice, this was dictated by the physics in that a cone allowed the largest volume to be stacked with the smallest footprint as well as minimizing moisture intrusion.  The modern practice however is for hay to be bound into bales either cylindrical (“rounds”) or cuboid (a rectangular prism) in shape and which is chosen is a product of the machinery available, available storage capacity, heard size and in some cases whether the hay is to be transported by road.  By virtue of their shape, cylindrical bales tend to shed water which may reach the surface during rainfall so any spoilage usually is restricted to the inch or so of the outermost layer, making them suited to outdoor storage; their density also makes them more efficient for fermenting silage.  The cuboid bale, because of the upper surface area, acts in the rain like a sponge, meaning they should be stored under cover and the advantage of the regular shape is that when stacked, the cuboids create no waste space, unlike rounds typically cost around 15-20% in unused space.  The same equation means cuboids are best suited to be transported by truck.  The modern practice (bales now produced in standardized sizes using machines which sometimes will as part of the process wrap them in a waterproof plastic sheeting) means that the word “haystack” now more accurately reflects a number of bales “stacked” in a shed or on the land while the original conical “stack” would more accurately be called a “pile”.  However, because of centuries of use, the term continues to be applied to both although “bale stack” does exist in the jargon of farming.

Bales of hay being trucked to somewhere.  Both cuboids and rounds can be transported thus but, as with storage, the space efficiency of the former is superior.

The proverb “make hay while the sun shines” is now used figuratively to mean “one should act while an opportunity exists and take action while a situation is favourable” but the origin was literal.  Until very recently, weather forecasting was most inexact and because the moisture content of hay was of great significance (spoilage and the risk of spontaneous combustion), it was important for farmers to avail themselves of sunny, dry condition to cut, dry and gather the grass to be assembled into haystacks.  Dating from a time when weather forecasting essentially was “tomorrow the weather will be much the same as today, two times out of three”, the proverb seems to have originated in Tudor times (1485-1603) and the first known reference is from 1546.  Since the mid seventeenth century, it has been used figuratively.  Phrases like “carpe diem” (seize the day), “grasp the nettle” & “strike while the iron is hot” impart a similar meaning.

Defendants in the dock at the first Nuremberg Trial, the right-hand side of the glass-fronted interpreters' booth seen at the top right corner.

At the first Nuremberg trial (1945-1946), an IMT (International Military Tribunal) was convened to try two-dozen surviving members of the Nazi regime in Germany (1933-1945), 22 of the accused appearing in court, one having committed suicide by hanging (with his underpants stuffed in his mouth to limit the noise) prior to proceedings beginning and one was tried in absentia.  The proceedings were conducted in four languages (English, French, German and Russian) with “simultaneous translation” provided by a rotating group of translators, all those in the courtroom able to listen (through headphones) in any of these language.  It’s no exaggeration to say it was the work of the translators and interpreters that made possible the 13 Nuremberg Trials in the form they took and the implementation of simultaneous interpretation was ground-breaking, the undertaking all the more remarkable because of the scale.  The main trial was conducted over ten months with 210 sitting days and so much material was presented the published transcripts filled 42 volumes, thus the references to “the trial of six million words. Logistically, the approach was vital because had the traditional approach been pursued, the trial as conducted would have been impractical because the usual protocol had been: (1) One speaker would deliver remarks in German while (2) interpreters took notes. After the speaker was finished, (3) one interpreter would interpret into French, followed by (4) an interpretation in Russian, and then (5) in English.  Things thus would have lasted perhaps four times as long but with “simultaneous translation” (in reality there was a lag of 6-8 seconds) it was as close to “real-time” as was possible.  Not until the 2020s did advances in generative AI (artificial intelligence) trained on LLM (large language models) mean machines alone could improve on what was done in 1945-1946.  Of course, an AI powered machine (in the form of a static device such as a speaker) could not add meaning by the use of NVC (nonverbal communication such as gestures or facial expressions) as is possible for a flesh & blood interpreter but as the occasionally disturbing “deep fake” videos illustrate, NVC certainly is possible on screen and with advances in robotics, it will be only a matter of time before such things can be done in three dimensions.  Now, we can all carry in our pockets a device able accurately (and even idiosyncratically) to translate dozens of languages as text or voice so the days of the profession of interpreter being a good career choice for a gifted linguist may be numbered.      

Wily old Franz von Papen (1879-1969; Chancellor of Germany 1932 & vice chancellor 1933-1934) wearing IBM headphones, undergoing cross-examination.  He was one of three defendants granted an acquittal.

Before the 13 Nuremberg Trials (the subsequent 12 conducted between 1946-1949), there had been only limited experiments with simultaneous translation.  Historically, the need in international relations had been limited because French had long been the “official language of diplomacy” and the first notable shift came with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920) and subsequently the League of Nations (1920-1946), the British succeeded in convincing the participants to conduct the proceedings in English (which really was an indication of growing US influence).  At these venues, what was done came to be known as “whispered interpretation” with an interpreter literally “whispering a translation into a recipient’s ear.  That was less than satisfactory and what smoothed the path to simultaneous interpretation was the development in the 1920s of a technology ultimately purchased by IBM (International Business Machines) and released commercially as the “IBM Hushaphone Filene-Findlay System” (more commonly called the “International Translator System”), first used at the ILO (International Labor Organization) conference in Geneva in 1927.  So what was done at Nuremberg was not exactly new but it was there the system came to wider attention and for IBM, providing (at no charge) the four tons of electronic equipment including 300 headsets (an additional 300 were borrowed from Geneva) and miles of cable proved a good investment, the publicity generated meaning one of the corporation’s first sales of the system was to the UN (United Nations) headquarters in New York.  The technology alone however was not enough and some potential interpreters who had passed the early evaluation tests proved unsuitable because they found it impossible to adapt to the demands imposed by the electronics; only some 5% of the 700-odd evaluated proved viable interpreters with “the interpreters the IMT reject” sent to what they called “Siberia” (administrative tasks or the dreary job of translating documents).  Those who made the cut spent their shifts in booths behind thick glass although the top was open so the soundproofing was only partial and the booth was located directly adjacent to the dock in which sat the defendants.

Although there was the odd error, the interpreters were thought to have done an fine job although not all were impressed, several entries in the diary of the British alternate judge Norman Birkett (Later Lord Birkett, 1883–1962) revealing his opinion of the breed:  When a perfectly futile cross-examination is combined with a translation which murders the English language, then the misery of the Bench is almost insupportable.  Dubost [French prosecutor Charles Dubost (1905–1991)] is at the microphone again, making his final speech. He is robust and vigorous; but such is the irony of fate that he is being translated by a stout, tenor-voiced man with the 'refayned' and precious accents of a decaying pontiff. It recalls irresistibly a late comer making an apology at the Vicarage Garden Party in the village, rather than the grim and stern prosecution of the major war criminals.”  “But translators are a race apart - touchy, vain, unaccountable, full of vagaries, puffed up with self-importance of the most explosive kind, inexpressibly egotistical, and, as a rule, violent opponents of soap and sunlight.  Mr Justice Birkitt always made his feelings clear.

The Passionate Haystack at work: British Army Captain Duncan (later Sir Duncan) Macintosh (1904-1966, left), Margot Bortlein (1912-2008, centre) and US Army Lieutenant Peter Uiberall (1911-2007, right).

The best-remembered for the translators was Margot Bortlin (1912-2008) and her place in the annals of the trial is due wholly to the nickname bestowed on her by journalists: “the Passionate Haystack”, the appellation soon picked by the soldiers and men on the legal teams.  The “haystack” element in the nickname came from her luxuriant fair hair which, in court, she would assemble as an “updo” in a shape which (at least in the minds of the men watching) recalled a haystack and such was the upper volume she was compelled to wear the headband of her headphones around the back of her head rather than atop as was the usual practice.  These days, observers of such things playfully might describe her hair as an installation”.  The “passionate” part was a tribute to her style of translation, said by Dr Francesca Gaiba (b 1971) in The Origins of Simultaneous Interpreting: The Nuremberg Trial (1998) to have been delivered “with great emphasis, smiling and frowning, with sweeping gestures and dramatic vocal inflections.  It's not known if the Passionate Haystack had any theatrical training but her use of NVC must have been striking compared with the performances of her colleagues who tended to sit inertly and speak in an unrelenting monotone.  Intriguingly, the journalist & author Rebecca West (1892–1983), no stranger to men's rich lexicon of sexist disparagement, who covered the trial made only an oblique reference to the drama in the delivery, reporting: “When it is divulged that one of the most gifted interpreters, a handsome young woman from Wisconsin, is known as the Passionate Haystack, care is taken to point out that it implies no reflection on her temperament but only a tribute to a remarkable hair-do.”  Wisconsin produces almost a quarter of the nation's butter and cheese so is a state of many haystacks.

Those in court rise in their places as the judges enter the chamber, Ms Bortlein (arrowed) looking down at her papers.  Although not not a high definition photograph, the angle at which her hair appears does show why the “updo piled high” contributed to her affectionate nickname.

In a milieu of dark gowns, military uniforms and grim proceedings, Ms Bortelin clearly made quite an impression, drawing the eye for a number of reasons.  Commenting on Justice Birkett’s acerbic view of the interpreter’s profession, in On Trial at Nuremberg (1979), the British Army lawyer Major Airey Neave (1916–1979), who had served the indictment on the defendants in their cells, wrote: “If this judgement seems harsh, it was the judges who had to listen to them [interpreting the words of counsel, defendants and witnesses] for nine months while junior officials could come and go as they pleased.  When I was not following the evidence, my interest in the interpreters’ box dwelt on a young lady with blonde hair, piled high, known as the 'Passionate Haystack'...”  Margot Theresa Bortlein-Brant was born in Aschaffenburg, Germany, her family emigrating to the US in late 1924 when she was 12.  She earned a degree in languages from the University of Chicago, a background meaning she possessed the most valuable skill a translator could have: equal adeptness with both tongues.  Her academic background obviously contributed to that but leaving one’s native land at a young age to learn the language of one’s adopted country doesn’t always produce such competence, one tourist operator at Ayers Rock Resort in Australia’s NT (Northern Territory) heard to remark of one of his staff:She does German translation for us which is good but she left Germany when she was ten so she speaks German like a ten year old.  Of course that’s not a problem because she also speaks English like a ten year old.

The Nuremberg Trial, 1946 (1946), oil on canvas by Dame Laura Knight RA (1877-1970), IWM (Imperial War Museum), London.

In the extensive photographic record of the first Nuremberg Trial, what is striking is the often unnamed women appearing at the periphery, the focus almost always on the defendants, prosecuting & defense counsel and judges, all of whom were male.  That was of course a cultural artefact of the time but it was also structural, women literally forbidden from speaking in court unless appearing as witnesses, a rule imposed by the Americans; because it was the US taxpayer footing most of the bill for the proceedings and providing the bulk of the security, logistical infrastructure and administrative support, the will of Washington DC often prevailed.  The Talibanesque “women must be silent” rule was not maintained for the subsequent twelve Nuremberg hearings but even in the first trial, the contribution of women was significant.  Dame Laura Knight’s large canvas The Nuremberg Trial, 1946, an unusual blend of two aspects realism now hangs in the Imperial War Museum in London and is one of the most re-produced images from the trial.  An unusual blend of two aspects of realism achieved by a juxtaposition of defendants in the dock and a devastated Nuremberg cityscape (including corpses), the artist did change a few details to suit her didactic purposes, Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland during World War II) seated not in his usual place but at the painting’s bottom-right, presumably better to show the wrists damaged by a failed suicide attempt.  In court, Frank wore gloves to conceal the effect but these Dame Laura choose to remove.  Curiously for such an accomplished artist, some of the likenesses achieved of those in the dock are not impressive but it remains one of the trial’s most memorable images, despite at the time being received by the critical establishment without enthusiasm.

As well as the interpreters, there were many women who contributed to the trial including journalists, archivists, translators, stenographers, typists and a myriad of support staff.  The Passionate Haystack is untypical in being better remembered than most and, tellingly, that’s because she attracted the gaze of so many men.  In the proceedings however, some of the most harrowing testimony came from women who appeared as witnesses, their stories of enduring cruelty and depravity observed to disturb at least some of the defendants as much as others were affected.  Those tales almost weren’t heard because the initial US proposal had been for the trial to be conducted based wholly on documents which alone would have been enough to convict all those charged.  The American prosecutors took a teleological view of the trial and arrived intending to focus on the idea that what had unfolded in Europe between 1933-1945 was the result of a grand conspiracy; what the Americans envisaged as the result of the trial was a mechanism by which clearly it would be established that planning or waging aggressive war was a violation of international law and future transgressions would be punished.  For that purpose, they had more than enough documents.

The Nuremberg Women
(2026) by Natalie Livingstone.

It was the other parties to the trial who insisted on witnesses.  The British team wanted them because, as experienced trial lawyers, they knew the value of a compelling witness and, not assured the conspiracy charge was as convincing as the Americans asserted, wanted simply to ensure they won their cases.  The Soviets, the French and other nations that actually had been invaded or subject to Nazi occupation demanded that those who had suffered be heard and, women having suffered much, it was their testimony which was effective in a way the tabling of documents or the reciting of statistics would never have achieved.  In The Nuremberg Women (2026), English historian Natalie Livingstone has written a series of engaging case-studies of eight women who played some part in the trial including a German writer, a Russian interpreter, an American lawyer and a French Resistance fighter, all of which provide different ways of looking at history’s most extensively documented trial.  One interesting passage in the entry on Dame Laura Knight explored what could be described as a certain moral ambiguity.  What Ms Livingstone detected was the artist’s undeniable fascination with the spectacle of Nazi power, a phenomenon with much color and movement likely to draw the eye of one trained to look for such things to depict; that would not have been unexpected but what the author found “hard to reconcile” was Ms Knight’s seemingly being more fascinated by the spectacle than appalled by the barbarity.  She acknowledged that “In order for her to produce the painting that she did she had to regard Nuremberg as almost a piece of theatre” but, after the Holocaust, l'art pour l'art (art for art's sake) must have its limits. The Nuremberg Women is a fine and original contribution to the history of the trial at which international justice can be said to have begun.

Saturday, April 11, 2026

Pamphlet

Pamphlet (pronounced pam-flit)

(1) A complete publication, of undefined length with fewer pages than the shortest books (typically, 10-40 pages) and usually stitched or stapled with a paper or soft-cardboard cover (although the very early pamphlets tended to be unbound).

(2) A short treatise or essay, generally a controversial tract on some subject of contemporary interest, historically most associated with a political position.

(3) A kind of precursor newspaper containing literary compositions, advertisements and news (archaic).

(4) A brief handwritten work (obsolete) except in some university clubs and societies.

(5) To print (always rare and now obsolete) or distribute pamphlets (obsolete).

1375–1425: From the late Middle English pamphlet & pamphilet, from the earlier pamflet (brief written text; poem, tract, small book), from the Middle French pamphilet (influenced by the Anglo-Latin pamfletus, panfletus & paunflettus (short written text), a syncopated variant of Pamphiletus, diminutive of the twelfth century Medieval Latin Pamphilus, the short form of Pamphilus, seu de Amore (about love), a brief Latin erotic poem (Pamphilus the protagonist) that was popular and widely copied in the Middle Ages (it inspired also a number of comedies for the stage).  The name came from the Ancient Greek Πάμφιλος (Pámphilos), literally “beloved by all”), the construct being pan- (all) + philos (loving, dear).  Because the poems and dramatic works were issued in the short, easily carried format ideally suited to political or other statements, the widely circulated pamphlets lent their name to the whole phenomenon which, as a form of distribution can be imagined as the tweets or TikTok clips of their time.

The meaning once so associated with the word (brief work dealing with questions of current interest; short treatise or essay, generally controversial, on some topical subject) dates from the late sixteenth century, a time when for social and technological reasons, such publications became suddenly popular.  The noun pamphleteer (a writer of pamphlets) emerged in the 1640s and was applied even to activists who merely supported what was advocated, regardless of their involvement in distribution.  From that noun, by the 1690s, came the verb, used in the sense of “to write and issue pamphlets”.  The spellings pamphlette & pamphleter are functionally extinct.  The word pamphlet was adopted unchanged in French, German and Italian while in Spanish the form was Spanish: panfleto and in Portuguese panfleto.  Pamphlet, pamphleteering & pamphleteer are nouns & verbs, pamphletry & pamphleting are nouns, verb & adjective, pamphletful & pamphletism are nouns, pamphleteered & pamphletize, pamphletizes & pamphletizing are verbs, pamphletary & pamphletic are adjectives and pamphletwise is an adverb; the noun plural is pamphlets (pamphleteers has become rare since the predominant meaning shift from polemics to information although some political scientists are fond).

Areopagitica; A speech of Mr. John Milton for the Liberty of Unlicenc'd Printing, to the Parlament of England (1644).  A slim work of 30 pages, long titles were then a thing for pamphlets.  Areopagitica (the title references both the democratic traditions of Ancient Greece and the words of Saint Paul in the New Testaments Book of Acts (17:18-34)) was written in prose and was one of the more influential pamphlets extolling the virtues of the principle of freedom of speech and expression.

The pamphlet was the platform of choice for many writers noted for the vigor of their religious or political views including Sir Thomas More (1478–1535), William Tyndale (circa 1494–1536), Gerrard Winstanley (circa 1609–1676), John Milton (1608–1674), Daniel Defoe (circa 1660–1731), Thomas Dekker (circa 1572–1632), Jonathan Swift (1667–1745), Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822), and the many nineteenth century Chartists.  In this form, it was in England the pamphlet first flourished because unlike in much of Europe, censorship by the state was less restrictive and the power of the churches diminished.  Still, authors did need to be careful and after making the mistake of travelling to Europe where priests still held sway, Tyndale was convicted of heresy and strangled while tied to the stake, actually a merciful act because his body was burned only after death.  In France, the turbulent years of revolutions, empire and wars (1789-1848) were also the “pamphlet decades”, the streets a “battleground of ideas” as well as barricades and bayonets.

The Federalist Papers (Signet Classics edition, 2003) with an introduction, textual notes and a select bibliography by US political scientist Charles R. Kesler (b 1956); since 1788, the book has never been out-of-print.  As well as the obvious importance as a historic document, the contents are of interest if contrasted in content and breadth of ambition with current political discourse.

Among the most famous pamphlets are a few dozen which are remembered not in their original format but as the compilation into which they were assembled for publication the book The Federalist Papers (1788).  The Federalist Papers were literally that, 85 tracts written by Alexander Hamilton (circa 1756-1804), James Madison (1751-1836) and John Jay (1745-1829) and simultaneously in 1787-1788 published in New York newspapers and issued as pamphlets under the pseudonym “Publius”.  The purpose was to encourage ratification of the new US Constitution which had emerged from the Federal Convention in September 1787 and although knowledge of the identity of the authors was widespread, the authors chose “Publius” in a nod to Publius Valerius Publicola, one of the founders of the ancient Roman Republic.  What the pamphleteers wanted was “endorsement by association”; because Publicola translated as “friend of the people” the notion was to link their arguments with republican virtue and the protection of the people from monarchical despotism.

An edition of Some reflections on a pamphlet lately publish'd, entituled, An argument shewing that a standing army is inconsistent with a free government (1697) by Daniel Defoe.

Many of Defoe's pamphlets were not at the time attributed to him although than didn't save him from spending three days in the pillory after political power in the country suddenly shifted.  Nor were most of his novels originally published under his name.  In early eighteenth century England, anonymity was common for those writing novels because prose fiction had neither become “respectable” or solidified as a clearly labeled genre, the objection being the stuff simply wasn’t “true”.  That’s why works like Robinson Crusoe (1719) were marketed as “histories” or “lives”, anonymity helping to sustain the illusion the text was genuine testimony rather than invention.

Meaning shifts in English are not uncommon but the semantic shift of “pamphlet” was an example of a process in which there was first a broadening of use followed by something of a drift rather than a simple replacement. In terms of content, the original sense (which flourished between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries) had nothing to do with the source of the name which came from a Latin love poem which remained popular in the late medieval & early modern period.  Although there were a handful of examples of Pamphilus, seu de Amore which had been “embellished and extended” by opportunist authors, almost all versions were distributed as folios of a few pages and because this length was ideal for presenting political or theological polemics to a public unlikely to read (and, importantly, pay for) full-length books on the topics, these came to be known as “pamphlets” and those writing the overwhelmingly religious and political tracts were thus pamphleteers.  Until well into the eighteenth century, the word “pamphlet” was used for no other purpose than this canonical historical sense but in the 1800s a noticeable broadening happened in the UK which historians link with (1) the economies of scale offered by improvement in industrial printing, (2) rising literacy levels (3) a heightened interest in political matters as a consequence of the franchise being extended by the Reform Acts (1832, 1867 & 1884), (4) a splintering of various religious denominations and (5) the reduction in the cost of distribution (the extension of road and rail systems).

Pamphlet dealing with STIs (sexually transmitted infections) which used to be called STDs (sexually transmitted diseases) or VD (venereal disease).  Note the reassuring pastel hues.

While the interaction of all these forces meant there were more political and religious tracts (ironically, at a time when matters concerning the latter were becoming less controversial), the short, digestible form of the cheaply-produced pamphlet came to have great appeal in commerce so the term came to be used of just about any small, free booklet.  In an indication that while the means of distribution have changed, the strategy has not, the folk paid a tiny sum to stand on the platforms of railway stations and hand out pamphlets to commuters were fulfilling the same task as the algorithms used to deliver advertising to inboxes and web-pages.  Really, only the targeting has much improved but linguistically, this was the crucial shift; from content-focused to format-defined.  Over time, the proliferation of product announcements, catalogues, and advertising subsumed the original meaning but despite that, many etymologists seem to suggest the association of “pamphlets” with “advertising” didn’t become prevalent until the early twentieth century.

What modern targeted-marketing made an effected tool was the “virtual pamphlet” delivered by companies to digital inboxes of all sorts.  What lands in the inbox of one user will have content optimized for what that user’s history suggests will most likely provoke engagement (and hopefully sell stuff) while the user sitting in the adjacent cubicle might receive something with different content.  In the pre-modern days of printed pamphlets, it was a one-size-fits-all approach although even then a primitive form of targeting was possible; the pamphlets a manufacturer might place in a shop selling women’s shoes would likely be different from the stack in the men’s store.  However, as technology improved and costs further fell (two symbiotic forces) the forms of the printed ephemera of commerce proliferated and the documents became variously smaller, larger, thicker, slimmer, glossier and more colourful which demanded a new descriptive language, thus the emergence or re-purposing of “posters”, “catalogues”, “flyers”, “handbills”, “booklets”, “brochures”, “bulletins”, “folders”, “handouts”, “handbills” and “leaflets”.  With this new generation of forms, the idea of the “tract” which was once synonymous with “pamphlet” became separated and restricted to those documents which were still polemics on religion, politics, policy or some other topical matter.  Pamphlet thus didn’t until later become associated with commercial advertising with “brochure” or “catalogue” used for the more polished publications with the highest production values (indeed, auction houses handling high-priced collectables routinely charge for their glossy catalogues) while “leaflet”, “handbill”, “flyer” and such was used of simpler, often single-sheet and sometimes monochrome.  All this meant by the early twentieth century pamphlet had lost the “exclusivity of seriousness”, something exemplified by a heritage running from Jonathan Swift to The Federalist Papers.

Ocala Plastic Surgery and the Wuxi Sweet Fastener Company both sell solutions to problems but just as their products differ, so do the dynamics of their pamphlets.  Whether pamphlet, catalogue, poster or whatever, content can to some extent dictate form and method.  Ocala Plastic Surgery distributes brochures which not only are information-dense about the range of services offered but also includes visual content designed to entice; even the color choices are part of the messaging.  By contract, the Wuxi Sweet Fastener Company is really providing a list of products and specifications with the photography not at all artistic but most informative.  Not being in markets like Victoria's Secrets or Ocala Plastic Surgery, the Wuxi Sweet Fastener Company uses mostly functional black text on a white background with the odd splash of color there just to draw the eye to a corporate logo or heading.

So the word “pamphlet” became “neutral” because it came to describe a printed format with no implication of content, modern pamphlets typically either instructional, containing information or advertising.  That doesn’t mean there are no longer printed documents described as “political pamphlets” but those which still appear in letter-boxes around election time are better thought of as flyers, usually with a photograph of a smiling candidate and the odd TWS (three word slogan).  The content of pamphlets of the type widely circulated centuries ago has now been relegated to essays published in specialized periodicals and for these “long-form” pieces, readers of course have to pay for the privilege.  In that sense, the “pamphlet” is a historic relic sometimes seen in literary use although, curiously, in political science, politicians with a habit of writing pieces beyond a TWS are still sometimes dubbed “pamphleteers”.  One crew which still occasionally hands outs longer tracts in the style of the old religious pamphlets is the Jehovah's Witnesses but they’re something of a rarity, even a dedicated lot like the Falun Gong prone to modernist brevity.  That leaves some other terms to be described:

Tract: A doctrinal or moral argument in small format, a tract now is understood as a (relatively) short written work advancing a specific doctrine or moral argument.  Whether this is in a simple, accessible form or a dense piece littered with jargon likely to be understood only by other specialists in the field is determined not only by the subject but also the place of publication.  A tract discussing troubles in the Middle East will be different in form depending on whether it appears in a tabloid newspaper or a journal like Foreign Affairs, and that’s one aspect of what Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980) explained as “…the medium is the message…” in Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man (1964).

Broadsheet: Most associated with the now mostly extinct large-form newspaper, the term “broadsheet was used to describe a large-format single sheet for public display.  A broadsheet (broadside also used) could be similar in size to a “poster” and was also a large sheet of paper (or cardboard or other flat surface), printed on one side and designed to be posting in some public place affording wide visibility.  Broadsheets often were used for announcements, news or proclamations by governments and often featured a mix of bold and dense text, woodcut illustrations once a popular inclusion.  The information could include public notices (executions, laws, events, rewards offered for this and that).

Poster for French market release of The Canyons (2013). 

Poster: Although often thought a twentieth century form, the poster is an ancient medium and definitionally it now differs from a broadsheet in that it seeks to convey a message with the use of image rather than text.  Additionally, when text does appear on a poster (and most do include some), especially in the larger formats, it’s often in a stylized form or a typeface which is obviously “artistic”.  The poster is a practical example of the adage “a picture is worth a thousand words” and there have been some memorable eras in posters as graphic art in the twentieth century assumed a previously denied respectability.  In part this was due to the new movements in art (futurism, orphism, cubism etc) being ideally suited to the poster's traditional rectangular aspect but the finest in the genre were probably those in the traditions of art deco, pop art and psychedelia.  Posters, although two-dimensional and static, remain popular appear to have weathered the onset of digital (and may even have benefited from the technology) and it seems likely AI (artificial intelligence) will also be adapted.

Circular: A circular is a document periodically distributed to a targeted, defined audience.  There is no one definition of what a circular looks like, it may be brief or long and come in a variety of (usually smallish) sizes but its core purpose tends to be  the dissemination of informational deemed to be of interest to the audience (or, at least, that in which it’s thought they should be interested).  The classic circulars are now those used for institutional communication (churches great users of the concept).

Victoria’s Secrets catalogue which, on the internet, works as a kind of combination of advertising copy and interactive database.

Catalogue: Catalogues have a long history in modern commerce and the model used by Amazon and such is exactly the same as the old “mail order catalogues” which in the nineteenth century the Americans perfected as a means of distributing goods (via the US Mail) over vast distances.  What has changed is the immediacy; while something ordered through Amazon can land on one’s porch within 24 hours, goods ordered from a mail-order catalogue might not be seen for weeks.  Still, the principle remains the same.  A catalogue is understood as a list of products and that may be as simple as pages of text or accompanied by lavish and tempting illustrations.

Brochure: A brochure is a “puff-piece” and a kind of advertising pamphlet.  A brochure may focus on a single product, a number of products or a manufacturer’s entire range.  Accordingly, a brochure may be a single page or a longer document which is distinguished from a catalogue only in the level of detail tending to be greater.

1961 Ford Galaxie Starliner (left) & 1962 Galaxie with “distinguished hardtop styling” (aka “boxtop”, right)

There are even “fake brochures”.  The aerodynamic qualities the 1960-1961 Ford Galaxie Starliner, possessed by virtue of its gently sloping rear roof-line, generated both speed and stability on the NASCAR (National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals; that made it a successful race-car but in the showrooms, after some early enthusiasm, sales dropped so it was replaced in 1962 with an implementation of the “formal” style which had been so well-received when used on the Thunderbird.  As the marketing department predicted (or, more correctly, worked out from the results of their focus-group sessions), what they called “distinguished hardtop styling” proved more commercially palatable but while customers may have been seduced, the physics of fluid dynamics didn’t change and the “buffeting” induced at speeds above 140 mph (225 km/h) limited performance, adversely affected straight-line stability (especially when in close proximity to other cars); it also increased fuel consumption, in distance racing especially, something as significant as weight, speed and power.  What the “distinguished hardtop styling” had done was make the Galaxie less competitive on the circuits, the loss of up to 3 mph (5 km/h) in top speed the difference being winning and losing; putting on the lipstick had produced a pig.

Beware of imitations: Images from Ford's 1962 Galaxie Starlift “brochure” which didn't fool the NASCAR scrutineers. 

Quickly to regain the lost aerodynamic advantage, Ford fabricated a handful of detachable fibreglass hard-tops which could be “bolted on”, essentially transforming a Galaxie convertible back into something as slippery (and even a little lighter) as the previous Starliner.  Having no intention of incurring the expense of designing and engineering them to an acceptable consumer standard (which they knew few anyway would buy) Ford simply gave the hand-made plastic roof the name “Starlift”, allocated a part-number and even mocked-up a brochure for NASCAR's officials to read.  Although on paper it appeared a FADC (factory-authorized dealer accessory) like any other (floor-mats, mud flaps etc), an inspection of the device revealed it was obviously phoney, the rear passenger glass on each side not fitting the sloping C-pillar, demanding the use of a pair of tacked-on plastic fillers to close the gap and it was obvious the thing wasn’t close to being waterproof.  Although prepared to turn a blind eye when it suited them, NASCAR thought all this beyond the pale and outlawed the scam.

Triumph Stag magazine advertising: Although conforming to the general specifications of a “flyer” (one page, single side printing, single purpose theme), magazine advertising tended to use the style and techniques of brochures, some would classify this as a “brochure” because of the shared design language.  Because of constraints of space, such advertising usually didn’t contain the wealth of technical details typically were included in catalogues.

Political campaign flyers: Physical copies printed for crooked Hillary Clinton’s (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) campaign in the New Hampshire Primary seeking the Democratic Party’s nomination for the 2008 US presidential election (left) and a digital template for those supporting Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) in the 2024 US presidential election.  Crooked Hillary’s flyer was distributed by her campaign team; the Trump material was hosted by various Republican-aligned PACs (political action committees).

Flyer, handbill & leaflet: Whether in form or content a flyer, handbill or leaflet differ really doesn’t matter and the three terms are used interchangeably, the choice a function of local practice.  All three imply something small, cheap and “handed-out” (often in the literal sense of someone standing on a street-corner) for some limited, specific purpose (such as a new sushi bar opening around the corner).  The small leaflets came to be known as flyers (the original term in late 1880s US use was “fly-sheet”) on the notion of “made to be scattered around” (ie, the image of stuff “flying around”).  Prior to “flyer” catching on, such papers were called “hand-bills”, that term based on “billboards” (large, poster sized displays) so a handbill was “a bill conveniently held in the hand”.