Electra

Electra (pronounced ih-lek-truh)

(1) In Greek mythology, (also as Elektra or Laodice), any of several mythical women, most famously as the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra; she incited her brother Orestes to avenge the death of their father by killing his murderess Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus.

(2) In Astronomy, one of the six visible stars in the Pleiades.

(3) A female given name from Ancient Greek (now rare).

(4) In psychoanalytic theory, as “Electra complex”, a young girl's sub-conscious competition with her mother for her father's affection.  Still much associated Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), the term was in 1913 coined by Carl Jung (1875–1961) but Freud, proprietorial in such matters, added layers to his “Oedipus complex” (originally detailing a son's sexual attitude towards his mother and concomitant hostility toward his father) publishing the refinement as the “feminine Oedipus attitude”.  It can (generously) be interpreted as Freud’s contribution to gender-equality.

First century BC (of the name, although the literary tradition stretched back several millenia): From the Ancient Greek Ἠλέκτρα (Ēléktra (literally “shining bright)), from ἤλεκτρον (ḗlektron) (amber) and related to ἠλέκτωρ (ēléktōr) (shining sun; beaming sun).  Although etymologists regard the possibility as dubious, there may be a connection with the Sanskrit उल्का (ulkā́) (meteor) and/or the Latin Vulcānus (god of fire and metalworking) and the Ancient Greek ἥλιος (hḗlios) (sun).  The ultimate source may even be pre-Greek so it’s not surprising the exacting lexicographers list the origin as “uncertain”.  The Latin noun ēlectra was the nominative/accusative/vocative plural of ēlectrum (from Ancient Greek ḗlektron) and the best known adaptation was electrum (amber; an alloy of gold and silver, used in Antiquity and now specifically a natural alloy with between 20 and 50 per cent silver (once commonly called “German silver plate).  Electra is a proper noun; the noun plural is Electras (about the only use of the plural form is of sopranos or Buicks).

The legend of Electra (Ηλέκτρα)

While some of the myths of Antiquity have a unique storyline and there are characters who appear in a single role with a known lineage, in many cases the tales are tangled and figures from one myth may appear in others with different parents and children.  As an example, consider the literary career of Electra who variously was (1) One of the daughters of Oceanus and Tethys, who married Thaumas and then gave birth to Iris and to the Harpies; (2) One of Persephone's companions and was present when she was carried off by Hades; (3) One of the Pléiades.  Zeus fathered her child Dardanus who left Samothrace and went to the Troad, where he founded the royal dynasty of Troy.  Electra had another son, Iasion.  Electra is also said to have had a third son, named Emathion, who ruled over Samothrace, but more frequently this third child of hers by Zeus is named as Harmonia; (4) In the Italian version of Electra's legend, she was the wife of the Etruscan King Corythus and Dardanus and Iasion were born in Italy; (4) Electra is also linked to the legend of the Palladium.  She was later transformed with her sisters into the constellation of the Pleiades.

Elektra (Frankfurt, 1953).

The 1967 recording of Richard Strauss's (1864–1949) Elektra with Swedish soprano Birgit Nilsson (1918–2005) and the Wiener Philharmoniker (Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra) under Hungarian-British conductor, Sir Georg Solti (1912–1997) is regarded still by many critics as the finest studio recording.  Given the virtuosity on show, it's hard to argue but among the opera cognoscenti there’s a faction that insists Electra's hatreds and lust for vengeance were never better captured than in the 1953 recording with German soprano Inge Borkh (1921–2018) and the Sinfonieorchester dem Hessischen Rundfunk (Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra of the state of Hesse), under German composer and conductor Kurt Schröder (1888–1962), a release noted also for German mezzo-soprano Christa Ludwig's (1928–2021) appearance as first maid.  In all the repertoire of opera, Electra is one of the roles demanding much range from a soprano and listeners can choose the Electra they prefer: technical ecstasy or thrilling intensity.

Most famously however she was (6) the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.  After Agamemnon was murdered by Aegisthus and Clytemnestra, Electra was treated as a slave, spared only on the intervention of her mother.  In some accounts Electra saved her brother (the young Orestes) by entrusting him to their old tutor who took him away from Mycenae.  To prevent her giving birth to a son who might avenge her father, Electra was either married to a peasant who lived far from the city, or, having been betrothed to Castor and then Polymestor, was imprisoned at Mycenae.  On Orestes' return, she recognized him at Agamemnon's tomb and played an active part in the assassination of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra. When the Erinyes pursued Orestes for this crime, she devoted herself to his welfare.  In Euripides' Orestes she fought at her brother's side against the local populace who wanted the murderers condemned to death.  Electra was the main character in Sophocles' (now lost) Aletes: when Orestes and Pylades went to Tauris, rumours started at Mycenae that they had died, and that Electra's sister Iphigenia had killed Orestes.  Aegisthus's son Aletes assumed the throne and Electra went to Delphi, where she met Iphigenia who had gone there with Orestes.  Electra was about to blind her when she saw her brother.  Electra and Orestes returned to Mycenae and killed Aletes.  Electra married Pylades and went with him to Phocis; their children were Medon (3) and Strophius.

Electracy

Actor Carmen Electra (stage name of Tara Leigh Patrick, b 1972) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1986), The Art of Elysium Launches Betty and Veronica Apparel Line in Association with Miramax Films and Archie Comics, Beverly Hills, California, May 2004.

Electracy is the “skill and facility necessary to exploit the potential of modern electronic media”, a idea that has come to attract more attention after the disclosures of AI (Artificial Intelligence) systems “going rogue”, something of interest not only because of the reported events but the suspicion there have likely been many more “undisclosed incidents”.  First appearing in Teletheory (1989), the concept of electracy was constructed by US literary theorist Professor Gregory Ulmer (b 1944, then holding the chair in the Department of English at the University of Florida and a professorship of Electronic Languages and Cybermedia at the European Graduate School in Saas-Fee, Switzerland) and it appeared at a time when the internet had expanded beyond the US.  What had come to be known as the internet (until circa 2016 often with an initial capital) had been restricted mostly to universities, the military and some government agencies but by the late 1980s it had extended to research institutions in the UK, Europe, Australia, New Zealand and Japan but looked nothing like whate the www (world wide web) would transform it to in the following decade.  According to Professor Ulmer, electracy was “to digital media what literacy is to print”, the concept encompassing the broader cultural, institutional, pedagogical, and ideological implications inherent in “…the major societal transition from print to electronic media”.  A portmanteau word, the construct was electr(icity) + trac(e) + -y with “trace” used in the sense made famous by French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004).  Trace was a core concept in Derridian deconstruction; it denoted the principle that every sign, word, or present experience carries within it the mark of what it is absent, not present, and different from itself.  Instead of meaning coming from a pure, self-contained origin or a direct connection to reality, the trace means that every “present meaning” is already inhabited by the “ghost” of other “past and future signs”.  Unlike some of the concepts from deconstruction and other forks of postmodernism, la trace could, at the definitional level, be understood by most.

Jung, Freud and the Electra complex

The pioneers of psychoanalysis gathered at Clark University, Worcester, Massachusetts, September 1909. Front Row (left to Right): Sigmund Freud, Granville Stanley Hall (1844–1924) & Carl Jung.  Back Row (left to right): Sándor Ferenczi (1873–1933), Ernest Jones (1879–1958) & Abraham Arden Brill (1874–1948).

The group photograph was shot during a conference on psychology hosted by Dr Hall, then president of Clark University and the first in the US to earn a doctorate in the discipline.  Although even then psychoanalysis was established in the US, the conference would prove a landmark and trigger not only a wealth of publications but also the legitimization of the field to the extent departments of psychology began to proliferate in US institutions.  This was Freud's only trip to the US, a place where his influence would for generations be profound but, within half a decade, his estrangement from Jung had begun, producing the profession’s most famous schism that to some extent endures to this day.

Although in the public consciousness Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) does seem to loom over psychiatry and his theories continue to flavour the writing of at least some clinicians and academics, the editors of the APA's (American Psychiatric Association) DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) have moved on and in mainstream contemporary psychiatry, the Freudian “feminine Oedipus attitude” seems to be regarded primarily as a historical psychoanalytic concept rather than an acknowledged human developmental process or a psychiatric diagnosis.  It was Carl Jung (1875–1961) who coined the term “Electra complex” and explicitly Freud rejected it, not because he dismissed the notion but because his original conception was of his “Oedipus complex” as something applicable to both sexes and it was only later he constructed a more intricate model of female psychosexual development, thus the need for his term: “feminine Oedipus attitude”.

Electra Receiving the Ashes of her Brother, Orestes (circa 1927). oil on canvas by Jean-Baptiste Joseph Wicar (1762–1834), Worcester Art Museum, Worcester, Massachusetts, USA.

In Freud’s construct of female development: (1) the mother was the primary love object until (2) the child discovers the anatomical difference between the sexes, thus developing (3) what Freud styled “penis envy”, leading her to (4) blame her mother for rendering her with what she perceives as a “deficiency”, something that compelled her to (5) shift her affections towards her father meaning she (6) became her mother’s competitor for the father’s affection before (7) eventually identifying with her mother and accepting the defined “feminine role”.  Freud seems not to have commented on whether he was annoyed by Jung’s “Electra complex” becoming one of the most popular pieces of jargon to leak from the profession to popular discourse but he’d made clear his thoughts, writing in From the History of an Infantile Neurosis (the Wolfman case history) (1918) that he saw “no progress or advantage” in introducing the term and did not advocate its use.  That presumably was a clinician’s considered view though there’s no reason to suspect Austrian neurologists are any less prone than the rest of us to professional jealousy and in little more than a decade his position significantly had shifted; by 1931 Freud was arguing the pre-Oedipal attachment of girls to their mothers was much more important in than his earlier formulations had suggested.  So, although among Freudians, neo-Freudians and the wider community, his particular take on the Electra complex retains a following, the theory wasn’t a single, fixed proposition.

The Return of Orestes (from Electra by Sophocles) (1782), oil on canvas by John Downman (1749–1824), National Trust Collections, Hinton Ampner, Alresford.

The figure at the far left is Charles James Fox (1749–1806), a British Whig statesman whose career in politics endured for some four decades; he’s best remembered for his part in the Fox-North coalition government (April-December 1883 with Lord North (1732-1792)), dismissed by a then not quite mad George III (1738–1820; King of the UK 1760-1820) after the loss of the American colonies.  The episode was of note in the development of Westminster parliamentary conventions because the coalition had taken office despite the king’s opposition and when George III a few months later took the opportunity to “clear out that rotten crew”, it would be the last time the sovereign’s reserve powers would be invoked to sack a prime minister until in 1975 Sir John Kerr (1914–1991; Governor-General of Australia 1974-1977) sundered the commission of Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; Prime Minister of Australia 1972-1975), proving the royal prerogative still existed (although paradoxically perhaps now only in the hands of a monarch’s representative rather than their own).  There had been William IV’s (1765–1837; King of the UK 1830-1837) in 1834 dismissing Lord Melbourne (1779–1848; prime minister of the UK 1834 & 1835-1841) but historians seem to treat that more as a “gentlemen’s agreement” and most of those few Australians who by 1975 much thought about such things probably believed the days of meddling viceroys were done.

Fox’s other (and far-reaching) contribution to political evolution was that in refusing to serve in the administration of Lord Shelburne (1737-1805; Prime Minister of the UK 1782–1783), he accelerated the morphing of the Tory faction into a formalized party and no prime minister since Shelburne has attempted to govern without the support of a party.  In the literature, the relationship between George III and Fox often was described as “mutual antipathy” but “mutual hatred” better describes things and there have been few loathings so well documented as public knowledge, the king in a letter to North as early as 1775 saying of Fox he had: “…cast off every principle of common honour and honesty ... [a man who is] as contemptible as he is odious ... [and has an] aversion to all restraints.”  It was deeply personal view because the king attributed this dissolute lifestyle of his son and heir (George IV (1762–1830) King of the UK 1820-1830) to Fox’s corrosive influence.  Despite that, Fox’s appearance in the painting was likely playful rather than political, the artist often including public figures in his works with no overt purpose; Downman was not a “political artist”.

APA Dictionary of Psychology; the APA also publishes a concise edition.

Despite’s Freud’s place in the history of the profession and his continue presence within factions in mainstream psychiatric science, in the “standard” diagnostic literature (the DSM & the WHO's (World Health Organization’s) ICD (International Classification of Diseases)), there are only traces of his legacy.  The DSM-5-TR (2022) is the APA’s most comprehensive diagnostic classification system yet and it includes no mention of the Electra complex, feminine Oedipus complex, penis-envy syndrome, or Oedipal developmental stage, either as diagnoses or as elements in diagnostic criteria and that reflects the path of the modern (ie post 1980) DSM’s evolution as concepts not technically diagnoses came gradually to be removed or renamed, the framework shifting from the classic psychoanalytic explanations of psychopathology Freud, Jung and others had pioneered in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.  That doesn’t imply parent–child attachment, identification, rivalry and such has been downgraded in importance, indeed the volume of literature would suggest the opposite; it means just that modern developmental psychology studies these things extensively but generally without Freud's specific (and still famous) assumptions.  Less well-known than the DSM, the APA also publishes a psychology dictionary in which the Oedipus complex is discussed as a concept of classical psychoanalytic theory, noting that contemporary psychoanalytic thinking substantially has reduced its centrality and instead focuses more on empirical findings about earlier mother–child relationships.

Electra and the Chorus bearing vessels for libation on the tomb of Agamemnon (undated), illustration from The Choephori by Aeschylus (circa 525-circa 456 BC), pencil, pen and ink on paper by John Flaxman (1755–1826), an English sculptor and draughtsman in the neoclassical tradition, Royal Academy of Arts, London.

In modern parlance all that might suggest “Freud was cancelled by the DSM”.  That would be overstating things but it’s true than prior to the DSM-III (1980), the earlier editions (DSM-I (1952) & DSM-II (1968)) conceptualized mental disorders predominantly in psychodynamic terms with psychoanalytic concepts consequently afforded some prominence although despite the emphasis, neither the Oedipus or Electra complexes were ever listed in the DSM as a diagnosis; they were theoretical explanations of personality development and psychopathology rather than a disorder with diagnostic criteria.  It was in DSM-III the change really began, the editors deliberately moving psychiatric classification toward operationalized diagnostic criteria and away from competing psychodynamic theories, one consequence being explicit mention of the Oedipal theories disappeared from the DSM's diagnostic architecture; the threads could still be detected but that required prior knowledge, a not unreasonable assumption given the publication at the time tended circulate mostly within the profession; its high public profile would come later.  Psychoanalysis however has not disappeared and there are psychoanalytic theorists who continue to use Oedipal language meaning the concepts not infrequently appear in the literature although that does not imply modern psychiatry universally has empirically validated Freud's theory.

So if “Freud was cancelled” is the wrong phrase, it’s necessary to nominate one better and either “somewhat restricted” or “much diminished” better capture what happened (certainly if what’s being discussed is the DSM rather than psychiatry or psychotherapy as a whole).  Prior to the DSM-III, disorders commonly were described in terms of underlying psychological mechanisms and conflicts, emphasizing the primacy of psychoanalytic theory as an important influence in both DSM-I & DSM-II.  It was DSM-III that was the watershed in that it built the framework upon which all subsequent editions have been constructed, up to the current DSM-5-TR.  A major break from what had been established (reflecting a generational change in the profession), DSM-III introduced explicit operational diagnostic criteria and deliberately adopted an approach intended to be neutral concerning etiology (the establishment of a cause, origin, or reason for something).  Henceforth, the DSM would describe what a disorder looked like rather than discuss theories explaining why it manifested.

Psychodynamic Diagnostic Manual, Third Edition (PDM-3, 2026).  The PDM is less popular with a general readership because it focuses on “why we’re mad” while the DSM defines exactly “how we’re mad” and offers hints on what to do about it.  The PDM is however useful for those who (in themselves or others) detect madness but wish to determine just when & why the instability began.

However, just because Freud's metapsychology ceased explicitly to appear in the DSM’s organizing framework doesn’t mean Freud has no influence on contemporary psychiatry; a number of the concepts he developed or modified have, to varying degrees, survived including unconscious processes; defense mechanisms; transference and countertransference; the importance of early relationships; attachment and interpersonal development and (vitally) the idea that psychological processes can operate outside conscious awareness.  As that implies, much modern work has been built Freudian concepts that became mainstream orthodoxy.  What happened was those concepts have been reformulated or interpolated into broader psychological theories, rather than being accepted simply because Freud proposed them and, in a nod to Freud’s seminal role, there is now the PDM (Psychodynamic Diagnostic Manual, first published in 2006 and now in its third edition (2026)) which, able to be read as a complement to the DSM or a stand-alone title, deliberately incorporates psychodynamic concepts.  That the DSM & PDM peacefully can co-exist does indicate why it’s at least misleading to speak of Freud being “cancelled”; it was more that the DSM was becoming a different sort of publication and Freud needed a new home.

Buick Electra

1973 Buick Electra 225 Custom Four-door Hardtop.

Richard Nixon's (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) last full-year in office, 1973 was the last “good year” of the old US economy but events in the Middle East that October would trigger the first oil shock and legislation would impose on cars battering-ram like bumpers and crude emission control devices that impaired driveability reduced power and increased fuel consumption.  It’s remarkable behemoths like the Electra lasted another three seasons.

Over six generations, GM’s (General Motors) Buick division produced the Electra between 1959 and 1990.  For its whole existence the Electra was the flagship of division’s full-size line and, at various points, was available with just about every style of coachwork Detroit offered in the era including two & four-door hardtops, four door sedans, two door convertibles and five door station wagons.  While there were no four-door convertibles, or station wagons with two-doors or in hardtop configuration, some coach-builders used also the platform as the basis of ambulances, limousines or hearses.  The best-known of the breed was the Electra 225 that gained its name from being an impressive 225 inches (5.715 m) in length and while dimensions continue commonly to be used as product descriptions in many industries, explicit mention of length does seem rare in cars although allusions were once common (SWB, LWB, EWB, an appended “L” etc). The Maybach revival used “57” (5.7 m long) & “62” (6.2 m) and some of the Land Rovers were designated according to the wheelbase in inches (88, 110 etc); there was the Ford GT40 but that was about height.  The classic Electra 225s (they wouldn’t always measure 225 inches stem to stern but the name stuck) were built on the GM corporate C platform and although part of the “great down-sizing” in 1977, it retained the RWD (rear-wheel-drive) configuration until 1985 when, along with the equivalent ranges built by Cadillac, Oldsmobile, Pontiac & Chevrolet, the “full-size” lines shifted to FWD (front-wheel-drive).  The most famous Electra 225 was a 1966 four-door hardtop in which the actor Jayne Mansfield (1933–1967) was killed after the car slammed into the back of a stationary truck;  the protective “Mansfield bars” on trucks are named after her.  Because of the name, it was used for the Buick Electra E5, a battery electric mid-size crossover SUV manufactured since 2023 in China by SAIC-GM under the Buick brand.

Powered clamshell tailgate on 1971 Buick Estate Wagon.  The 1971 Estate used the Electra platform and was Buick's first full-sized station wagon since 1953.  It was a very cool feature.  

A footnote in the Electra’s history is the powered clamshell tailgate used on the Estate Wagon between 1971 and 1976.  Built on a 127 inch (3.23 m) wheelbase, the Estate Wagons truly were large machines and the clamshell tailgate appeared on all GM’s big wagons in the era, the novelties being the powered rear glass sliding up into the roof as the tailgate slid into a recess under the cargo floor; very cool.  The power tailgate (the first ever seen on station wagons) was operated by switches on the instrument panel or a key switch on the rear quarter panel but while wagons had the powered glass, the powered tailgate was optional and, if the manual version, there was a small handle on the tailgate and an additional chrome “ring” with “flippers” around the keyhole.  The apparatus operated by turning the key to raise the glass into the roof cavity with the tailgate lowered by turning the chrome ring.  A clever design of the type engineers really would have enjoyed perfecting, the tailgate used counter-weights of sizes & springs of tension (a la garage doors) calculated exactly to allow the structure to drop under the force of gravity while demanding only a light action manually to raise it; it was a case-study in the difference between mass & weight (mass x gravity).  Although heavy and intricate, the system proved admirably reliable but the design wasn’t carried over to the new generation of smaller station wagons because, in the unforgiving new world, there was a quest to reduce weight in the hunt for improved fuel economy and lower exhaust emissions.

Lockheed Electra

TEAL Lockheed L-188 Electra ZK-TEB 1963 (left) & 1965 (right).  The TEAL livery was retained when the corporate name was changed in 1965, the aircraft not immediately re-painted, “Air New Zealand” replacing “TEAL JET PROP” on the fuselage as required by the rules of the Convention on International Civil Aviation (better known as the “Chicago Convention” (1944).

The airline TEAL (Tasman Empire Airways Limited) emerged from the Tasman Sea Agreement, an intergovernmental treaty between the Australia, New Zealand and the UK, concluded in London early in 1940.  The purpose of the operation was to provide for the trans-Tasman traffic of passengers, cargo and mail, something disrupted by the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945).  In the manner of a number of wartime agreements, the treaty contained a sunset clause stipulating a termination within three months of the end of the war with Germany but such was the state of post-war civil aviation that arrangements were carried over, the pre-war practices not returning to the trans-Tasman route until 1954.  As part of that re-organization, the shareholdings, previously spread between the New Zealand Government (20%), Union Airways (19%), BOAC (38%) and Qantas (23%), were dissolved and the two governments assumed co-ownership until 1961 when both decided to maintain separate national carriers, TEAL and Qantas, the relationship having been strained since the Australians had insisted TEAL order the turboprop Lockheed Electra to maintain fleet standardization with Qantas while the New Zealanders wanted to upgrade to jets.  In 1965, TEAL was re-named Air New Zealand.

Two Lockheed P-3 Orions of the Japanese SDF (Self-Defense Force), on anti-submarine patrol over the Sea of Japan.

The naming of the sea is contested.  Japan asserts “Sea of Japan” has since the early 1800s been the internationally accepted term while the RoK (Republic of Korea (South Korea)) claims “East Sea” predates the period of Japanese colonial rule and the DPRK (Democratic Republic of Korea (North Korea)) Korea advocates use of “East Sea of Korea”.  Unlike the Electra L-188 on which it was based, the Orion proved a great commercial success and between 1960-1990 over 750 were built, the aircraft adopted by over 20 countries; some remain in service.  The distinctive “tail “stinger” is a “MAD boom”, used for the magnetic anomaly detection (MAD) of submarines.

Re-cycling a name the company had in the 1930s used for a smaller airliner, US manufacturer Lockheed between 1957-1961 built 170 Electra L-188s, the first large turboprop airliner built in the US.  With a number of unique design features that made it suitable for use on short runways or airfields located at high altitudes, there should have been great scope for international sales but a combination of two well-publicized crashes (caused by a design fault in the engine-mounts) and the new generation of jet aircraft suppressed demand meaning production ended a decade earlier than planned.  Ironically, whether in passenger service or as the freighters many were later converted into, the Electra proved robust, reliable and provided stellar service to many operators as late as the 1990s, the airframe also serving as the basis for the Lockheed P-3 Orion maritime patrol aircraft that saw service with many nations.  The Electra’s darkest chapter was that a flight of three was purchased by the military junta that between 1976-1983 ruled Argentina and, during the “Dirty War” (1974-1973) the three flew missions to dump some of the detenidos-desaparecidos (detained-disappeared), political opponents of the regime, of which there may have been as many as 25,000) into the South Atlantic Ocean.  The Argentine Navy’s Electra’s proved ideal for the gruesome task because they were configured with wide cargo doors.

Estate

Estate (pronounced ih-steyt)

(1) A piece of landed property, especially one of large extent with an elaborate house on it.

(2) By extension, in computing, an institution’s collective ICT (information & communications technology) resources.

(3) In law, property or possessions.

(4) In law, the legal position or status of an owner, considered with respect to property owned in land or other things (the degree or quantity of interest that a person has in land with respect to the nature of the right, its duration, or its relation to the rights of others; interest, ownership, or property in land or other things.

(5) In law, the property of a deceased person, a bankrupt etc, viewed as an aggregate.

(6) In UK use, a housing development (sometimes a class-based slur (Council estate (ie directed at those living in social housing)).

(7) As “industrial estate”, land areas designated exclusively for industrial or commercial purposes.

(8) In automotive use, as “estate car” (often clipped to “estate”), an alternative term for a station wagon.

(9) A period or condition of life (archaic).

(10) Within society, one of the major political or social group or classes, historically: (1) the clergy, (2) the nobles, and (3) everybody else; they were style respectively as first, second & third estates with a fourth (the press) later added.  Subsequent additions are not universally acknowledged.

(11) Condition or circumstances with reference to worldly prosperity, estimation, etc.; social status or rank.

(12) The owner of an estate (obsolete).

(13) Pomp or state (obsolete).

(14) High social status or rank (obsolete).

(15) To give an estate to (obsolete).

(16) To bestow upon (obsolete).

1175–1225: From the Middle English estat, from Anglo-Norman estat and Old French estat (state, position, condition, health, status, legal estate), from the Latin status (state or condition, position, place; social position of the aristocracy), from the primitive Indo-European PIE root sta- (to stand, make or be firm).  It was cognate with the Provençal estat and for some time in Anglo-French there was the spelling astat; the form endures in modern French as état.  The native word in the Middle English was ethel (ancestral land or estate, patrimony), from the Old English æðel.  Estate is a noun, verb & adjective, estateman is a noun, estating is a verb and estated is an adjective; the noun plural is estates.

The idea of an estate being the collective property and liabilities of someone (usually of the deceased, bankrupts or debtors) dates from the 1820s and as well as being part of legal jargon (in probate or bankruptcy proceedings), it became a commercial term (“estate sale”, “estate jewellery” etc).  That ultimately was derived from the thirteen century sense when it was used generally of one’s “state, condition or rank in society”.  Presumably because of late fourteenth century use of “estate” to mean “real property” (ie land), in the early 1500s the meaning in this context between then and seventeenth century extended (socially upwards) to imply “a person of estate” (ie the rich, nobility, gentry etc); that was an example of “linguistic association” and the various uses ran in parallel with the technical use in law.  As early as the fourteenth century, there was the idea of “Estates of the Realm”, each a major social class or order of persons regarded collectively as part of the body politic of the country and possessing distinct (and very different) political rights.  At the time the “major” in that phrase referred either to wealth and power (the clergy or nobility) or sheer numbers (everybody else).  By the eighteenth century, the use of “estate” to refer to “the general body politic; the common-wealth” had faded and had been replaced by “the state” and later, “the nation”.

The Third Estate dealing with the First & Second: Execution of Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen Consort of France 1774-1792), 16 October, 1793 by an unknown artist.

In the English-speaking world, the classic example of the three “political estates” was the English model of the Lords Spiritual (bishops), Lords Temporal (hereditary peers) and Commons.  There were though variations on the theme.  The ancient Parliament of Scotland comprised the king and three estates: (1) archbishops, bishops, abbots & mired priors, (2) the barons and commissioners of shires and stewartries (the lands under the jurisdiction of a steward (a magistrate appointed by the crown to exercise jurisdiction over royal lands)) and (3) the commissioners from the royal burghs.  In France the three estates were (1) the nobles, (2) the clergy and (3) the plebs; collectively, these were known as the États Généraux (pronounced ay-tah zhay-nay-roh).  Before Louis XVI (1754–1793; King of France 1774-1792) on 5 May, 1789, summoned the assembly, the États Généraux hadn’t met for 175 years, that meeting in 1614 convened during the minority reign of Louis XIII (1601–1643; King of France 1610-1643).  The 1614 assembly ended in deadlock and that meant no legislative measures ensued (suiting the kings and most of the nobility), thus cementing absolutism as the nature of the French state; operating as absolute monarchs, kings had no interest in sharing power and it was only as a last resort in 1789 with the ancien regime facing a catastrophic financial crisis and structural gridlock that Louis XVI fell compelled to convene the assembly.  By then, it was too little, too late and before long, the guillotine began its bloody business.

Danse Macabre of Basel (circa 1450), a memento mori painting by an unknown artist, Historisches Museum Basel (Basel Historical Museum), Barfüsserkirche, Basel, Switzerland.

The Danse Macabre (Dance of Death) was an artistic genre of allegory dating from the late Middle Ages; exploring the universality of death, it made clear that however high or low exulted one’s station in life, the death ultimately will visit all.  It was a popular artistic motif in European folklore and the most elaborated of all Medieval macabre art.  During the fourteenth century, Europe was beset by deathly horrors, recurring famines, the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) and, looming over all, the Black Death, an outbreak of bubonic plague which between 1346-1353 may have killed as many as 50 million, making it one of history's most lethal pandemics.  In reducing the population of Europe by between a third and a half, its demographic, political and economic implications were felt for centuries.  The artists often included some subtle comment about the way something like plague could take victims regardless of their wealth or social standing.  In the modern era, the principle remains, one just as dead whether one is struck by a meteorite, drinks oneself to death or is murdered by the Freemasons.

In the UK, while the composition has much changed, structurally the estates still exists as the (1) the Lords Spiritual (26 Church of England bishops with ex officio seats in the House of Lords, (2) the Lords Temporal (hereditary and life peers, a subset of each sitting in the House of Lords) and (3) the Commons (elected representatives sitting in the House of Commons).  Those examples are however only formalized examples of the ancient (and almost certainly universal) graduation of societies into hierarchical layers.  While the criteria used to establish the layers could between cultures vary, as far as is known, no society with any form of organization has ever not operated on some sort of stratified basis, something not surprising given that’s the inherent (and natural) arrangements of families, human or animal.  Indeed, so pervasive was the idea of “degree” that in the highly stratified Europe of the late Middle Ages, it extended even to the rank-order of birds in the sport of falconry: falcons exclusively were for royalty, peregrines for noblemen, merlins for noblewomen, goshawks for yeomen, sparrowhawks for priests and kestrels for knaves or servants.  Whether in the royal court, the Church, the orders of chivalry or whatever, there were established and well-understood layers.  Even in art, the sense of a living in a layered system was reflected, the many artists between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries who created memorable illustrations of the danse macabre depicting the members of the various estates going to their inevitable death is ways that reflected their status; while there might in death be a kind of democratic equality, the last days of some were celebrated more than others although the works often were satirical and it’s obvious the demise of the rich wasn’t always something to be mourned.

Statue of Edmund Burke (erected 1868), in electro-typed copper-bronze on a square-plan, carved stepped granite plinth with incised lettering, Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland.  Photograph by John Sutton.

The three (in England) estates were originally the three classes of people who could participate in government, either directly or by electing representatives, originally the clergy, barons & knights and the commons (though over time this would change).  Later the “three estates” were sometimes written of as “the three organs of governmental” necessary for legislation: the Crown, the House of Lords and the House of Commons.  Building on the notion of three, the idea of a “Fourth Estate” started to appear in satirical or jocular expressions, the targets of the tag including “the mob” (1752) and “the lawyers” (1825).  In time, a “new” Fourth Estate did join the list and it described the press, the origin often attributed to Anglo-Irish Whig statesman and philosopher Edmund Burke (1729-1797) although the concept was popularized in the writings of Irish literary critic & essayist William Hazlitt (1778–1830); what Burke had suggested was that with newspapers becoming more numerous and more influential, journalists, editors and publishers should be regarded as “the Fourth Estate”.  First seriously discussed in early the 1820s, within a decade the term had gained currency, supplanting earlier associations (although in both Burke and Hazlitt there are unsubtle hints they likely thought of journalists as “the mob in print”, a view doubtlessly reflecting the opinions of most politicians.  From the modest (if sometimes strident) folios of the eighteenth century to Rupert Murdoch’s (b 1931) Fox News today, it’s clear Burke’s insight was prescient.  Subsequent creations have not universally been accepted as part of the political lexicon but the ideas explored are not without foundation.  The term “Fifth Estate” was first seen in the US during the 1960s counterculture and was used as the name of a newspaper first printed in Detroit in 1965 and still published.  Were one generous one could describe that publication as an example of “critical theory” but it was of its time and certainly an outlet for discontent and dissent.  The understanding of the Fifth Estate evolved into a socio-cultural reference encompassing the opinions of those generally excluded from (or at least marginalized by) the mainstream media and in the twenty-first century it included those distributing their content on blogs, vlogs and social media platforms.  It became a generally accepted concept.

Rupert Murdoch with an edition of News of the World, October 1968.

Mr Murdoch is the last of the old style “press barons” (though he declined Margaret Thatcher's (1925–2013; UK prime-minister 1979-1990) offer of a peerage), it will be interesting to see, decades from now, if history acknowledges him, politician W.M. "Billy" Hughes (1862–1952; prime minister of Australia 1915-1923), virologist Sir Macfarlane Burnet (1899–1985) or second wave feminist Germaine Greer (b 1939) as the twentieth century's most influential Australian.  All cast long shadows, some darker than others.

Less accepted is the idea, first suggested in the late 1980s (before the www (world wide web made the internet an accessible, mass market commodity) there’s a “Sixth Estate” functioning as an observer, critic, and counterweight to the Fourth (the press) and Fifth Estate (non-mainstream online media).  The basis of the concept was the realization a political phenomenon of the 1980s was groups of citizens organizing as pressure groups to pursue issues of interest that although tending to be relatively small in number, their clever use of the mainstream media meant they were able (often as “agenda-setters”) to exert an influence beyond their size and budgets.  Obviously, blogs and social media were the natural environment for such groups although, as big tech rapidly honed their techniques, it’s likely in some cases the hunter has been captured by the game but, at least for their sectional audiences, some of the “Sixth Estate” functions still as an unofficial counterweight to the traditional press (now described variously as the “mainstream media” (however archaic that may be), “legacy media” or, as Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) prefers: “fake news media”.  Wholly opportunistic was the attempt to coin “Seventh Estate”.  That was the idea the newest influence to reach critical mass and influence was the “expert strategic advisor”, apparently a collective term for “business analysts, management consultants, thought leaders, market researchers” and such.  The notion of the Seventh Estate seems less a serious contribution to political theory than a marketing promotion.  There may be a case to be made for the recognition of a Seventh Estate and that is as a description of consumer-packaged AI (artificial intelligence).  While philosophers and scientists can write erudite pieces discussing why what AI produces can’t be “independent thought”, it certainly can appear to be and, as theories of cognition explain, that may be enough for some to legitimize AI as the “Seventh Estate”.

Estate cars

UK advertising for the Australian-built Chrysler Valiant Regal Estate, 1975.

Although with engines as large as 360 cubic inch (5.9 litre) V8s, the Australian-built Chrysler Valiants might seem a curious choice for the UK market in the post-oil shock 1970s, the demise of the big Humbers left a gap in the range and in 1967 the Australian cars had the advantage of benefiting from the Commonwealth preference scheme, a low tariff regime which was the last relic of the chimera of imperial free trade.  Sales were never more than a trickle but the Chryslers were close to unique in the tiny market segment and the programme for a while remained profitable even after the tariff advantage was lost in 1973 when the UK joined the EEC (European Economic Community (1957), the Zollverein that would evolve into the EU (European Union (1993)); The cars remained available until 1976.  Although in Australia and South Africa the Valiant station wagons had been called “Safaris” (after 1973 they would in the home market become “station wagons”), in the UK they were always marketed as “Estates”, reflecting the local practice.

1950 Ford Country Squire.

The model represented a transition in method, the timber still real (mahogany plywood with birch or maple spars) but the roof now of steel.  The timber component would later become “fibreglass over appliqué” and that look would for decades endure though as something purely decorative with no structural role. Although the look is better known as the “station wagon”, “estate cars” began life literally as “a car built for use on one’s estate”.  Because, in this context, ownership of an estate was a preserve of the rich (including many with massive debts), the parameters of an estate car’s design included being large, comfortable and able easily to accommodate life’s essentials (hunting dogs, polo gear, fishing rods, shotguns etc).  So that was specific but while there was sufficient demand to make the early estate cars for decades a thing in the catalogues of coachbuilders, there weren’t that many rich folk so rather than using full-metal bodies, what tended to be done was take a the chassis and frontal components of a conventional two or four-door saloon and add a “station wagon like” rear section in timber.  Combining the eye of a coachbuilder with the hands of craftsmen skilled in timberwork, some elegant creations emerged in the pre-war years (some built as late as the 1950s) and the look influenced mainstream manufacturers in the post-war years with timber spars and panels appearing on station wagons, sedans and convertibles (although fibreglass and plastic appliqué would soon replace the natural product, despite which the “woodie” & “woody” nicknames remained).  Inheriting an earlier tradition, the coach-built estate cars came to be called “shooting brakes”.

Estate cars stared life on the estates of the rich: 1937 Bentley 4¼-Litre Shooting Brake by Vincents of Reading.

Although entirely representative of the style of shooting brakes built in the 1930s, Bentley 4¼-Litre chassis B142JD retained until 1949 its original all-weather tourer body by Vanden Plas, converted to a shooting brake in 1949-1950 by the coachbuilder Vincents of Reading.  Founded in 1805 and best known in the era for their closed horse-drawn carriages and railway cars, Vincents began building bodies for motor cars in 1899 but their most commercially successful lines turned out to be the “horse boxes” (now often called “horse floats”) which could accommodate up to four horses and were towed behind cars or trucks.  Post-war realities meant coach-building became a challenging business model and in the late 1940s Vincents shifted their focus to trucks and busses which provided a more stable flow of contracts but a small volume of cars were built as late as 1955; the Bentley shooting brake on a 1937 chassis was untypical but an example of the bespoke work possible.  Vincents built their last car body in 1981.

1961 Chrysler New Yorker Town & Country Wagon.

The economies of scale of the US industry in the post-war years was achieved volume production and efficient assembly with a high degree of interchangeability of parts.  What that meant was it was viable to manufacture even low-volume ranges like the four-door hardtop (ie no B-pillar) station wagons.  As a body-style, they were unique in the world and were in their era kind of the "ultimate estate" and a then unusual combination of something originally purely functional (the station wagon) with the flourish of a motif (the four-door hardtop) that had no purpose other than to look stylish; never big sellers, they were available for a decade, the last produced in 1964.  The same mix 'n' match approach would later produce the sports car based shooting brakes.

The industry never formalized the exact meaning of “shooting brake” but, by convention, since at least the 1920s, it came to be used to describe a two-door car (there were variations) with estate-car coachwork added aft, usually in timber (although some sheet metal was sometimes included).  The origin of the use lies in the original shooting brakes, large horse-drawn carts suitable for use by shooting parties (ie groups of people being taken to a spot at which it was convenient to slaughter wildlife).  The “brake” element in the name was derived from the popularity of the heavy-framed carts for in “breaking-in” spirited horses; etymologists have pointed out the Dutch brik (cart or carriage) but any link is speculative.  In the UK, the term “brake” became so identified with large horse-drawn carts it was applied widely, extended to carts generally, whether or not used by shooting parties.  In France, an estate car (station wagon) was called a break, the French (somewhat unusually) following the example in English, the original form having been break de chasse (hunting break).

Marilyn Cole (b 1949) with the pink Volvo 1800ES she was in 1973 awarded as the prize for being judged Playboy magazine’s PotY (Playmate of the Year).  The last scion of the P1800 coupé (1961-1972), the 1800ES was made only in 1972-1973, production ending because it would have been prohibitively expensive to re-engineer the old platform to meet US safety standards.  The lovely lines of the “estate section” were an in-house project and it remains perhaps the most accomplished shooting brake adaptation from a coupé.  In Sweden, its nickname was Fiskbilen (fish van) which wasn't encouraging but in German-speaking lands, it was dubbed the rather more charming Schneewittchensarg (Snow White's coffin), a nod to the frameless, all-glass rear door.  Doubtlessly the statuesque Ms Cole won PotY on merit but her photo-shoot was the first in which a “full-frontal nude” image appealed in the magazine so that alone may have been enough to persuade the judges.

Not all Volvo estates were as admired Snow White's coffin: Lindsay Lohan with sledgehammer destroying Volvo V70 Estate (1996-2000).

The stunt was something to do with a TV series being cancelled and while an explanation was provided, the rationale was a little difficult to understand and the text was TLDR but whatever, a Volvo got trashed and Ms Lohan obviously enjoyed swinging a sledgehammer so all's well that ends well.  It's impressionistic but it does seem likely the unfortunate reputation once attached to Volvo drivers was disproportionately gained because of those driving the estates.  

Sir David Brown's original Aston Martin DB5 shooting brake, 1965.

In recent decades, what are labelled shooting brakes have tended to be based on fast (or at least “fast-looking”) sports cars rather than the large chassis preferred for the purpose during the inter-war years.  While the shooting brakes commissioned by the HFS (huntin’, fishin’ & shootin’) set could be well-proportioned and even elegant, they were not “sporty” but that market niche emerged in the 1960s.  The best known early examples were the Reliant Scimitar GTE (1968-1986) and Volvo 1800 ES (1972-1973) and what legitimized the style (a two-door coupé with estate coachwork to the aft) was what Sir David Brown (1904–1993) thought would be a one-off based on an Aston Martin DB5 coupé (1963-1965, which the factory, in their English way, called a “saloon”).  Sir David liked his DB5 saloon but found it too cramped comfortably to accommodate his polo gear, shotguns and hunting dogs.  Now, that would be called a “first world problem” but because Brown then owned Aston Martin, he simply wrote out a work order and had his craftsmen create a bespoke shooting brake (thereby confirming the informal English definition of the term: “station wagon owned by someone rich”) which they did by hand-forming the aluminum panels with hammers over wooden formers.  It delighted him and solved the problem but created another because good customers started writing him letters asking for their own.  While folk offering to pay for a company's products usually is a good thing, at the time, Aston Martin was at full capacity building DB5s and developing the up-coming DB6, DBS and V8 models.  With a bulging order book, the resources didn’t exist to add a niche model so the project was out-sourced to the coachbuilder Radford which built a further 11 (and subsequently another 6 based on the DB6 (1965-1971)).  The “sporty” shooting brakes of course had nothing like the storage capacity of the old-style versions, the design imperative being to enlarge a sports car’s luggage space beyond the traditional “toothbrush & bikini”.  So they were better suited to dirty weekends or trips to the ski slopes than a day spent slaughtering wildlife but nobody seems to have thought of a better term and because of the historic association with class & wealth, the target market likes “shooting brake”.

Leveraging her real-life history of driving incidents and DUI incidents, Lindsay Lohan appeared in the Esurance “Sorta Mom” spoof insurance commercial, shown during the 2015 Super Bowl.  The fourth-generation Chrysler Town & Country minivan (2001-2007) was typical of what “soccer moms” drove after the demise of the station wagon.

Citroën CX Loadrunner by Tissier.

The estate version of the Citroën CX (1974-1991) was made between 1975-1991; it was called “Break” in France and “Safari” in the UK.  The most interesting variant was a six-wheel version which permitted a higher load capacity, the best known use as high-speed transporters of newspapers (remarkably heavy in bulk).  Although fitted with low-powered diesel engines, the slippery aerodynamics and advanced suspension made high average speeds possible and proved the most economical way to move the quickly, over distances.  This was a pre-digital version of the “information superhighway”.

“Estate” was but one of the terms used of the body style best known as the “station wagon”, others included “Safari” (France & Australia), “Station Sedan” (Auatralia), “Break” & “Commercial” (France), “Kombi”, “Universal” & “Touring” (Germany”) and “Squire” (US).  The station was perhaps the most emblematic vehicle of post-war America, its popularity a product of (1) increasing prosperity leading to the “two car household” becoming the norm, (2) families moving from cities to newly developed, sprawling suburbs and (3) shopping patterns shifting from inner city department and grocery stores to vast suburban malls (with ever larger car parks, groceries taken from store to car by the provided shopping carts).  Thus the perfect conjunction: women and their station wagons driving to the mall to shop, a model which contributed to the post war US boom.  Internationally long in decline, the station wagon died out in the US by the 1990s although sales in Japan and Europe continued to be strong enough for a number of models to be sustained and in Australia, Holden kept one in the catalogue until the end of the operation in 2017.  Those who once bought station wagons opted instead for minivans, SUVs (sports utility vehicles) or “Crossovers” (vehicles with SUV-like bodywork but built on a lighter platform) while those needing something suitable for unpacking the picnic basket in the polo-ground’s car-park are now (almost) all driving Range Rovers.