Sandwedge

Sandwedge (pronounced sand-wej)

(1) As Operation Sandwedge, a proposed clandestine intelligence-gathering operation against the political enemies of US president Richard Nixon.

(2) As sand wedge, a specialized golf club, an iron with a heavy lower flange, the design of which is optimized for playing the ball out of a bunker (sand trap).

1971: The name was chosen for a “dirty tricks” covert operation as a borrowing from golf, the sand wedge a club used to play the ball from a difficult position.  The construct was sand + wedge.  Dating from pre-1000, sand was from the Middle English sand, from the Old English sand, from the Proto-West Germanic samd, from the Proto-Germanic samdaz, from the primitive Indo-European sámhdhos, from sem- (to pour).  Wedge was a pre 900 from the Middle English wegge (wedge), from the Old English wecg (a wedge), from the Proto-Germanic wagjaz (source also of the Old Norse veggr, the Middle Dutch wegge, the Dutch wig, the Old High German weggi (wedge) and the dialectal German Weck (a wedge-shaped bread roll) and related to the Old Saxon weggi.  It was cognate with the dialectal German weck derived from the Old High German wecki and Old Norse veggr (wall).  The Proto-Germanic wagjaz is of uncertain origin but may be related to the Latin vomer (plowshare).  Sandwedge is a noun; should the plural ever be needed, it would be sandwedges (ie phonetically a la the use in golf (sand wedges)).

In golf, when using a sand wedge (left), the player’s stance and the way in which the club addresses the ball differs from what’s done when using a conventional iron (right).  Noted golfer Paige Spiranac (b 1993) demonstrates the difference although there may be some variations depending on an individual's weight distribution. 

Richard Nixon.

Operation Sandwedge was a covert intelligence-gathering operation intended to be conducted against the enemies (a long list which later became public) of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974).  Beginning in 1971, the early planning was done by Nixon's Chief of Staff HR Haldeman (1926-1993), his assistant for domestic affairs, John Ehrlichman (1925-1999) and Jack Caulfield (1929–2012), then attached to Ehrlichman’s White House staff “handling special assignments”; also involved (though paid not by the White House but from external campaign funds) was Tony Ulasewicz (1918-1997), later a bit-player in the Watergate affair.  The core of Caulfield’s plan was to target the anti-Vietnam War movement and those figures in the Democratic Party Nixon had identified as the greatest threat to his re-election in 1972, including Ted Kennedy (1932–2009; US senator 1962-2009), Ed Muskie (1914–1996; US senator 1959-1980), William Proxmire (1915–2005; US Senator 1957-1989) and Birch Bayh (1928–2019; US senator 1963-1981).  Of interest too was a settling of scores with those who had prevented G Harrold Carswell (1919–1992) being confirmed by the Senate as Nixon's nominee for the US Supreme Court and the president's net was internecine too, some of the targeted figures in his own Republican Party.

G Gordon Liddy.

Operation Sandwedge was intended to be clandestine but it wasn’t subtle and included physical and electronic surveillance, the intelligence of particular interest that which could be used either to feed damaging leaks to the press or for purposes of blackmail including dubious financial transactions, mental health records and (preferably “unnatural”) sexual proclivities.  However, the operation never proceeded beyond the planning stages because Haldeman and Ehrlichman thought the methods of Caulfield (a former New York City Police Officer) unsophisticated so transferred the project to G Gordon Liddy (1930–2021), a lawyer, one-time FBI agent and later one of the great characters of the Watergate affair.  Attached to Liddy's operation was former CIA operative Howard Hunt (1918–2007) who, under his name and many noms de plume, was a most prolific author of fiction and non-fiction, his bibliography extending to over 70 titles.  Caulfield had chosen the name sandwedge because, as a dedicated golfer, he knew the sand wedge was the club of choice when one was in a difficult spot;  if well-played, it was what could transform a bad situation into something good.  At the time, code-names were among the many imaginative things to emerge from the bunker at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and the one chosen for the squad to investigate leaks of information to the press was dubbed “the plumbers”.  One member later told his elderly grandmother one of his duties in the White House was “investigating leaks” and proudly she told him: “Your grandfather was a plumber”.   

Paige Spiranac's definitive guide to the correct handling of one's sand wedge, one of a series of invaluable short clips called Paige Quickies.  They're an ideal guide for both experienced golfers wishing to hone their techniques and those taking up the sport.

The Watergate complex, Washington DC.

The Watergate affair was of course one of the best known (and among nihilistic political junkies the most celebrated) of the “dirty tricks” operations run out of (or at least connected with) the Nixon White House but it was far from unique.  Some strikingly immoral back-channel operations had been run even before the 1968 election but by 1971 the vista had expanded to include what would now be called fake news plants, the infiltration of the staff of political opponents, break-ins and burglary, among the most infamous of which was “the plumbers” (including Liddy) breaking into the office of the psychiatrist treating Daniel Ellsberg (b 1931), the former Department of Defense (now known also as the Department or War) military analyst who had leaked the “Pentagon Papers” (something which was a reasonable achievement in the days when decamping with thousands of pages of classified material demanded not a few minutes copying data to a USB stick but many hours between midnight and dawn using the photocopier).  The doctor's Ellsberg file revealed nothing of interest but the burglary gained a place in history, being recorded by Ehrlichman (who approved the operation) as "Hunt/Liddy Special Project No 1".  There would be more.

Paige Spiranac is active on Instagram and recently posted a “Life update” to her four million followers, advising “I have bangs now”.  Hopefully, she will keep us informed and there will be more to come.

Sandwedge had been envisaged as an intelligence gathering operation, the most novel aspect of which was that while the project documents presented an overview of something using conventional methods of surveillance and the compilation of publicly available material, privately, Caulfield admitted electronic surveillance would also (unlawfully) be used, something any expert presumably could have deduced from the impressive total of budget request.  Of greatest interest were financial records (relating particularly to tax matters), mental health conditions, undisclosed legal problems and sexual conduct, especially if illicit and preferably unlawful.  The idea greatly interested Haldeman and Ehrlichman but they had never been convinced by Caulfield’s “lack of background” by which they meant education, social skills (ie correct way to use knife & fork in polite company) and political experience.  Accordingly, Sandwedge and all intelligence matters were transferred to Liddy, the article of faith in the White House being anything run by a trained lawyer legally would be “bullet proof”, not a quality they associated with the schemes of ex-NYC police officers, a breed not always with a reputation for rectitude.

New York Times, Saturday 2 March 1974.

Liddy revelled in the role as the White House’s clandestine clearing house for “covert ops” and applied his own list of spy-like code names (Gemstone, Diamond, Ruby etc) to an range of activities expanded beyond Sandwedge including physical espionage, infiltration of protest groups, secret wire-taps, sabotage of opposition campaigns and, of course, “honey-pot traps” (the use of attractive young women as temptresses).  Even for Haldeman and Ehrlichman (behind their backs, known to White House staffers as “the Germans” or “the Prussians”) the implications of becoming essentially gangsters was too much but the shell of Liddy's structure was in 1972 approved and even that pared-down framework included a range of unlawful activities, including the one which would trigger the chain of events that culminated in Nixon’s resignation and see dozens of the conspirators (including Haldeman, Ehrlichman and Liddy) jailed: the break in and bugging of the Democratic Party offices in the Watergate complex.  As the affair unfolded, suspicion fell upon Caulfield until it was realised his role in Operation Sandwedge had ended before any dubious operations began and he’d never been part of Liddy’s more ambitious plans.  He was compelled to resign from government but was never prosecuted, maintaining to his dying day that if he’d been left to run Operation Sandwedge, there would have been no burglaries in the Watergate complex or anywhere else and thus none of the cascading scandals which at first paralysed and later doomed the second term of the Nixon administration.

On the golf course, Lindsay Lohan in bunker with sand wedge, rendered as a pen drawing by Vovsoft.

One attractive thing about the historic records of the US government is the relative openness and accessibility to the documents which can lay bare the operations of at least some of the machinery of government.  Things are of course not as open as they used to be but the US attitude to the classification of material is still preferable to that of institutions like the UK’s Cabinet Office or the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) both of which operate in an air of obsessive secrecy.  One treasure trove is the on-line archive of the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum which includes a stash of transcripts of the White House tapes subpoenaed by the SSPF (Watergate Special Prosecution Force), including the famous (and politically fatal) “smoking gun tape”.  In some ways even more so than the audio tapes, the transcripts provide an insight into how politics actually is practiced and it’s useful to compare them with sanitized (and sometimes mendacious) memoirs or “official histories”.  On 21 March 1973, President Nixon met with John Dean (b 1938; White House Counsel to the President, 1970-1973) when “Operation Sandwedge” and its corrosive consequences were discussed:

DEAN:  I think, I think that, uh, there's no doubt about the seriousness of the problem we've got.  We have a cancer--within, close to the Presidency, that's growing.  It's growing daily.  It's compounding, it grows geometrically now because it compounds itself.  Uh, that'll be clear as I explain you know, some of the details, uh, of why it is, and it basically is because (1) we're being blackmailed; (2) uh, people are going to start perjuring themself very quickly that have not had to perjure themselves to protect other people and the like. And that is just--and there is no assurance…

DEAN: Jack [Caulfield] had worked for John [John Mitchell (1913–1988; US attorney-general 1969–1972)] and then was transferred to my office.  I said, "Jack, come up with a plan that, you know, is a normal infiltration, I mean, you know, buying information from secretaries and all that sort of thing."  He did, he put together a plan.  It was kicked around, and, uh, I went to Ehrlichman with it.  I went to Mitchell with it, and the consensus was that Caulfield wasn't the man to do this. Uh, in retrospect, that might have been a bad call, 'cause he is an incredibly cautious person and, and wouldn't have put the situation to where it is today.

PRESIDENT: Yeah.

DEAN: All right, after rejecting that, they said, "We still need something," so I was told to look around for somebody that could go over to 1701 and do this.  And that's when I came up with Gordon Liddy, who-- they needed a lawyer. Gordon had an intelligence background from his FBI service.  I was aware of the fact that he had done some extremely sensitive things for the White House while he'd been at the White House, and he had apparently done them well. Uh, going out into Ellsberg's doctor's office.

PRESIDENT: Oh, yeah.

PRESIDENT: January of '72?

DEAN: January of '72.  Like, "You come over to Mitchell's office and sit in on a meeting where Liddy is going to lay his plan out."  I said, "Well, I don't really know as I'm the man, but if you want me there I'll be happy to."  So, I came over and Liddy laid out a million dollar plan that was the most incredible thing I have ever laid my eyes on.  All in codes, and involved black bag operations, kidnapping, providing prostitutes, uh, to weaken the opposition, bugging, uh, mugging teams. It was just an incredible thing.

PRESIDENT: But, uh..

DEAN: And--

PRESIDENT: ...that was, that was not, uh...

DEAN: No.

PRESIDENT: ...discussed with..

DEAN: No.

PRESIDENT: ...other persons.

DEAN: No, not at all. And--

PRESIDENT: (Unintelligible)

DEAN: Uh, Mitchell, Mitchell just virtually sat there puffing [on his pipe] and laughing. I could tell 'cause after he--after Liddy left the office I said, "That's the most incredible thing I've ever seen.  "He said, "I agree."  And so then he was told to go back to the drawing boards and come up with something realistic. So there was a second meeting. Uh, they asked me to come over to that. I came into the tail end of the meeting. I wasn't there for the first part. I don't know how long the meeting lasted. Uh, at this point, they were discussing again bugging, kidnapping and the like. And at this point I said, right in front of everybody, very clearly, I said, "These are not the sort of things that are ever to be discussed in the office of the Attorney General of the United States"--where he still was--"and I am personally incensed." I was trying to get Mitchell off the hook, uh, 'cause—

PRESIDENT: I know

DEAN: He's a, he's a nice person, doesn't like to say no under--when people he's going to have to work with.

PRESIDENT: That's right.

DEAN: So, I let, I let it be known. I said, "You all pack that stuff up and get it the hell out of here 'cause we just, you just can't talk this way in this office and you shouldn't, you shouldn't, you should re-examine your whole thinking." Came back-

PRESIDENT: Who else was present? Be-, besides you-

DEAN: It was Magruder, Magruder [Jeb Magruder (1934–2014; deputy director of Committee for the Re-Election of the President (CRP) in the 1972 election (better known as CREEP))]

PRESIDENT: Magruder.

DEAN: Uh, Mitchell, Liddy and myself. I came back right after the meeting and told Bob, I said, "Bob, we've got a growing disaster on our hands if they're thinking this way.'  And I said, "The White House has got to stay out of this and I, frankly, am not going to be involved in it."  He said, "I agree John."  And, I thought, at that point the thing was turned off. That's the last I heard of it, when I thought it was turned off, because it was an absurd proposal.

PRESIDENT: Yeah.

DEAN: Liddy-I did have dealings with him afterwards. We never talked about it. Now that would be hard to believe for some people, but, uh, we never did. Just the fact of the matter.

PRESIDENT: Well, you were talking about other things.

DEAN: Other things. We had so many other things.

PRESIDENT: He had some legal problems at one time.

Button

Button (pronounced buht-n)

(1) A small disk, knob, or the like for sewing or otherwise attaching to an article, as of clothing, serving as a fastening when passed through a buttonhole or loop.

(2) Anything resembling a button, especially in being small and round, as any of various candies, ornaments, tags, identification badges, reflectors, markers, etc.

(3) A badge or emblem bearing a name, slogan, identifying figure, etc., for wear on the lapel, dress, etc.

(4) Any small knob or disk pressed to activate an electric circuit, release a spring, or otherwise operate or open a machine, small door, toy, etc.

(5) In botany, a bud or other protuberant part of a plant.

(6) In mycology, a young or undeveloped mushroom or any protuberant part of a fungus.

(7) In zoological anatomy, any of various small parts or structures resembling a button, as the rattle at the tip of the tail in a very young rattlesnake.

(8) In boxing slang, the point of the chin.

(9) In architecture, a fastener for a door, window, etc., having two arms and rotating on a pivot that is attached to the frame (also called turn button).

(10) In metallurgy, when assaying, the small globule or lump of metal at the bottom of a crucible after fusion.

(11) In fencing, the protective, blunting knob fixed to the point of a foil.

(12) In horology, alternative name for the crown, by which watch is wound.

(13) In the graphical user interface of computers and related devices, a small, button-shaped or clearly defined area that the user can click on or touch to choose an option.

(14) Slang term for the peyote cactus.

(15) A small gathering of people about two-thirds of the drinks are spiked with LSD.  Those who drink the un-spiked are the buttons responsible for babysitting the trippers (1960s west coast US use, now extinct).

(16) A series of nuts & bolts holding together a three-piece wheel.  Such wheels are very expensive because of the forging process and the ability to stagger offsets to create large lips.

(17) In boiler-making, the piece of a weld that pulls out during the destructive testing of spot welds

(18) In rowing, a projection around the loom of an oar that prevents it slipping through the rowlock.

(19) South African slang for methaqualone tablet.

(20) A unit of length equal to one twelfth of an inch (British, archaic).

(21) Among luthiers, in the violin-family instrument, the near semi-circular shape extending from the top of the back plate of the instrument, meeting the heel of the neck.

(22) In the plural (as buttons), a popular nickname for young ladies, whose ability to keep shirt buttons buttoned is in inverse proportion to the quantity of strong drink taken.

1275-1325: From the Middle English boto(u)n (knob or ball attached to another body (especially as used to hold together different parts of a garment by being passed through a slit or loop)), from the Anglo-French, from the Old & Middle French boton (button (originally, a bud)), from bouter & boter (to thrust, butt, strike, push) from the Proto-Germanic buttan, from the primitive Indo-European root bhau- (to strike); the button thus, etymologically, is something that pushes up, or thrusts out.  Records exist of the surname Botouner (button-maker) as early as the mid-thirteenth century (and the Modern French noun bouton (button) actually dates from the twelfth century).  It was cognate with the Spanish boton and the Italian bottone.  The pugilistic slang (point of the chin) was first noted in 1921.  First use of button as something pushed to create an effect by opening or closing an electrical circuit is attested from 1840s and the use in metallurgy and welding is based by analogy on descriptions of mushrooms.  The verb button emerged in the late fourteenth century in the sense of "to furnish with buttons" which by the early 1600s had extended (when speaking of garments) to "to fasten with buttons".  The button-down shirt collar was first advertised in 1916.  In fields in which there are structures or entities which in part or in whole are “buttonlike” in appearance, there are many uses of “button” as a descriptor (button mushroom, button seal, button willow, button quail etc), botany, zoology anatomy, architecture, cooking and engineering all using the word thus.  There are also a number of idiomatic forms including “cute as a button” (very cute), “on the button” (correct) and “buttoned down (or up)” (conservative to the point of being repressed.Button is a noun & verb, buttoning is a noun & verb, buttoned is a verb & adjective, buttonize is a verb, and buttonlike & buttonable are adjectives; the noun plural is buttons.

John Button (1987) (1933-2008; senator for Victoria (ALP (Australian Labor Party) 1974-1993), oil on canvas by Andrew Sibley (1933–2015), National Portrait Gallery, Canberra, Australia.

New uses continue to emerge as technology evolves:  The phrase button-pusher to describe someone "deliberately annoying or provocative" was first recorded in the 1970s and hot-button issue appeared in political science journals as early as 1954, apparently a derivation of the brief use in the press of big red-button and hot-button to (somewhat erroneously) describe the mechanics of launching a nuclear attack.  Hot button issues can be useful for political parties to exploit but what the button triggers can shift with generational change: As late as the 1990s the Republican Party in the US used "gay marriage" as a hot button issue to mobilize their base but within 25 years the electoral universe had shifted and the issue no longer had the same traction; there had been generational change.  In the 1980s, the now mostly extinct button-pusher had been co-opted as a somewhat condescending description of photographers both by journalists and snobby art critics, the former suggesting some lack of affinity with words, the latter, an absence of artistic skill. 

How it came to be done: 2022 Mercedes-Benz EQS 56 inch (1.42 m) single-panel screen.  There are no physical buttons on the dashboard, something which provoked a reaction and, for certain critical features, there's been a welcome "button revival".

In cars, as in aircraft, the shifting of controls for core and ancillary systems from individual buttons and switches to combined or multi-function controllers began to accelerate during the 1960s, a reaction to the increasing number of electrically activated functions being installed to the point where, if left individualised, in some of the more electronic vehicles, space for all the buttons would have been marginal and ergonomics worse even than it was.  Some very clever designs of multi-function controllers did appear but in the twenty-first century, by the time LED flat-screen technology had become elsewhere ubiquitous, it became possible to integrate entire system control environments into a single screen which, able to display either one or a combination of several sub-systems at a time, meant space became effectively unlimited, arrays of virtual buttons and switches available in layers.  That didn't mean thing became easier or more convenient to use but production costs were lower.  Of late, in response to consumer pressure, some manufacturers have admitted the approach went to far and what might be appropriate for someone sitting at their desk using a desktop PC (and the only way things can be done on a phone), might not be a good idea when driving a car at speed, in traffic.  Thus, for core critical functions (ie those drivers most often perform) such as adjusting settings on entertainment and HVAC (heating, ventilation & air conditioning) systems, buttons are making a welcome comeback.

For those who can remember the ways things used to be done: 1965 Jaguar Mark X 4.2 with burl walnut & red leather.  Jaguar's cockpits in the 1960s were among the most atmospheric of the era although, even at the time, the less than ideal ergonomics attracted criticism.  Something has been lost with the decline of the sensual, tactile, analogue world of buttons, knobs & switches.

There were buttons and there were switches.  Jaguar used toggle switches until US safety regulations in 1967 compelled a change to rocker switches with softer edges and less forward projection, similar concerns resulting in the top section of the dashboard gaining a padded vinyl covering.  Indeed, at the time, there was in the UK and Europe a suspicion US regulators might ban the use of decorative timber in car interiors and the models Mercedes-Benz released in 1971 & 1972 had none but the austerity didn't last, the veneers soon restored.  The functionality of the rocker switches was exactly the same as that of the toggles and they were certainly less prone to damage but for some the tactile experience was lacking, the ASMR less satisfying.  ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) describes the physical & psychological pleasure derived from specific stimuli (usually a sound).  A highly segmented market, among the aficionadi there are niches as varied as those who relish the clicking of an IBM Seletric typewriter or Model M keyboard, the sight & sound of South Korean girls on TikTok eating noodles, the mechanical precision of the fore-end slide of pump-action shotgun being operated or the flicking toggle switches.

The accounting departments of car manufacturers liked the change to touch-screens because it was cheaper to produce and install the things rather than an array of individual buttons, switches, instruments and lights, behind each of which ran at least one and sometimes several wires or lines, requiring schematics that could be baffling even to experts who needed sometimes to track (literally) miles of cabling.   While now using sometimes even more wiring, the new systems are capable although their long-term reliability remains uncertain and in many cases, a button or switch is both easier to use and falls more conveniently to hand; that makes sense because with buttons one's sense of touch (finger-tips most sensitive) effortlessly can distinguish whereas all of a touchscreen feel the same.  It would be possible to make a a touchscreen "feedback" different vibrations or sounds depending on which icon is touched but that may create more problems than it solves and is anyway a complicated solution to a simple problem.   It's better just to provide some switches.  

1991 Mercedes-Benz 600 SE (W140).

Built on the SWB (short-wheelbase) platform, the 600 SE was offered only during the W140's first year, the V12 sedans subsequently available only as the LWB (long-wheelbase (V140)) 600 SEL (S 600 after 1993 when the corporate naming system changed).  The duplication on the glovebox of the trunk (boot) lid badging was also a single-year fitting and even if a buyer opted for the "badge delete option" the characters on the glovebox remained.  The badge delete option had existed for a long time but enjoyed a spike in popularity beginning during the 1970s when it became obvious the more expensive models were more likely to attract the eye of terrorists, kidnappers and such.  While outfits like the Baader–Meinhof Gang (technically the RAF (Red Army Faction)) had some fondness for stealing smart cars (the BMW 2002 ti_i and Porsche 911S apparently their favorites), they didn't approve of those driving (or being driven in) conspicuously expensive vehicles.  On the 450 SEL 6.9 (V116, 1975-1980), the factory's delete option code was 261 and in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) it was ticked by those who like to go fast on the Autobahn but not attract the attention of kidnappers or assassins.  One advantage the 6.9 did confer was, if pursued by kidnappers, one could outrun the BMWs and all but the fastest Porsches.

The noun buttonology genuinely does exist.  It was a calque of the Swedish knappologi and used to refer to the fashion for pedantic and often pointless systematization.  The construct followed the Swedish model (knapp (button) +‎ -ologi, coined by Swedish author August Strindberg (1849–1912) and appearing in the short story De lycksaliges ö (The Isle of the Blessed) which although written in 1884, wasn’t published until 1891 when it appeared in the compilation Svenska öden och äventyr (Swedish Destinies and Adventures).  Buttonology is used most often as a generic term to decry the exaggerated, obsessive or pointlessly pedantic systematization, especially of trivial subjects but literally it can describe the study or categorization of buttons (in the sense of clothing fasteners).  In a light-hearted vein, in the training of software engineers and designers, it’s the component of the course focusing on user interfaces (where there can be many buttons).  In US military slang, buttonology is used of user interfaces generally.

Button porn: Centre console in 1991 Mercedes-Benz 600 SEL (V140).

Although a sight to delight button-nerds, "peak button" unfortunately coincided with the "biodegradable wiring incident" (1991-1995) in which the soy-based insulation for the cables deteriorated some decades before the supplier's projected end-of-life, the issue exacerbated by the taste of soy which would attract rodents and other creatures happy to chew on the stuff for a quick snack.  The basic shape of the gear selector knob dates from one introduced in 1971, the design a product of analysing data from the Swedish government's mandatory post mortems (autopsies) of road-accident fatalities (under Swedish law, such corpses were for 48 hours the property of the state).  What the pathologists' findings revealed was lives could be saved if engineers could devise as a shift lever handle too large to penetrate the eye socket.  While there's an element of the macabre in such research and it wasn't something the factory choose widely to publicize, the design was a classic example of what's called "passive safety".

A tanned young lady in a bikini with a piece of belly button jewellery (sold also as "navel jewellery").

The 140-series sedans (1991-1998) and companion coupé (C140, 1992-1999) were peak-button and it won't happen again, touch-screens now much cheaper to install and although buttons are making something of a comeback, they'll not again be seen on such a grand scale.  The 140-series cars were end-of-era stuff in many ways and the last of the old-style exercises in pure engineering with which Mercedes-Benz re-built its reputation in the post-war years; what followed would increasingly show the influence of accountants and the dreaded "sales department".  Most charismatic of the 140s were the early, 402 bhp (300 kw) 600s tuned for top end power; the 6.0 litre (365 cubic inch) V12 (M120; 1991-2001 (although it would appear in cars by other manufacturers until 2012)) would later be toned-down a little with a greater emphasis on mid-range torque and thoughts of the 8.0 litre V16 and W18 prototypes entering production were shelved as the economic climate of the early 1990s proved less buoyant than had been expected.  Subsequent concerns about climate changed doomed any hope of resurrection but as something of a consolation, AMG for a while offered larger versions of the V12 (as big as 7.3 litres (445 cubic inch)).  Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) died in her hotel's hire-car (S 280 with a 2.8 litre straight-six (171 cubic inch)) version of the 140.

Coincidently, it was in the "peak button" era that Mercedes-Benz revised the convention of model nomenclature, inverting the alpha-numeric placement which had evolved since the 1920s.  Until the 1980s, old nnn.xxx convention (mostly) made sense once the logic behind the sequence had been explained but even then there had long been inconsistencies with the letters doing "double duty" and the numerals not always aligning with displacement (as well as one off aberrations like "219") but by the 1990s the proliferation of ranges and models had made the old system more or less unmanageable.  Every series of cars was changed but most affected were the various C140s and they were especially unusual in being the last of the “SECs” and the first of the “CLs” with a mid-life spent as an “S”, the confusing alpha-numeric trajectory of the C140 600 being:

1992 600 SEC (Not sold in North America)

1993 600 SEC (Global)

1994-1995 S 600 (Global)

1996-1997 S 600 (North America) & CL 600 (RoW (rest of the world))

1998 CL 600 (Global)

1999 CL 600 (North America only)

1993 Cadillac Allanté in standard form (left) and with “wood grain kit” fitted (right).  Cadillac in the peak-button era did its bit and for most owners the look either was “enough” or “too much” but although the Allanté was then a very different sort of Cadillac targeting a demographic younger than the marque’s usual buyer profile, third party suppliers (which for generations had been selling all sorts of Cadillac accessories of dubious taste such as Rolls-Royce style grills & badges in anodized gold or “neo-classical” external spare tyre housings) saw possibilities and offered “wood grain kits”, pieces of plastic appliqué which could be glued to the dashboard and anywhere else there was an accommodating surface.

1991 Cadillac Allanté: Although the lines were neither adventurous or innovative, it was an accomplished design.

The Cadillac Allanté (1987-1993) was an ambitious project, a two-door, two-seater roadster produced in an expensive, travel & labor-intensive process which required trans-Atlantic transport (in modified Boeing 747 freighters) for the bodies from Pininfarina’s Italian factory to Cadillac’s assembly line in Detroit where final assembly was undertaken.  The US industry had in the 1950s & 1960s dabbled with this approach and even then it made little financial sense but it was a time when indulgences could be tolerated as a part of “image building”.  The economics of the late 1980s were very different but Cadillac early in the decade had, with a mix of jealousy and lust, been pondering the numbers achieved by the Mercedes-Benz R107 SL roadster (1971-1989), then quite ancient in automotive terms yet still habitually selling in numbers which belied its high price and vintage design.  Sharing mechanical components with higher-volume models and with the tooling for the structure long since amortized, Cadillac knew the thing was absurdly profitable despite being visually almost unchanged since its debut.

1988 Cadillac Allanté: One tangible advantage was the Allanté's removable hard-top was of aluminum and thus a relatively svelte 58 Lbs (26 kg) compared with the R107's steel unit which weighed in at a hefty 96 (44).  Roof-mounted hoists were popular with R107 owners.

Thus the Allanté, the company’s first two-seat roadster since the 1930s and one with the exclusivity of being built by an Italian coach-builder famous for having designed some of the most admired Ferraris.  Mechanically, the Allanté was unchallenging in that it was built on a shortened version of an existing platform which meant the use of FWD (front wheel drive) and the 4.1 litre (250 cubic inch) HT-4100 V8, both factors which meant there was no need to build new assembly lines or make expensive changes to existing facilities.  While the notion of an expensive “FWD roadster” may now seem strange, dynamically it made less difference than might be imagined because the Mercedes-Benz R107 was no sports car and for the Allanté’s intended market, the advantage of more interior space was thought more important than behaviour on a skid-pan.  The HT engine however proved more troublesome although that was a product of design flaws, not its placement in the Allanté.

Buttons come in many shapes, shades and sizes although most still are circular.  A button with four "sew holes" is called a "four-eye button".

The critical response was unexpectedly favorable.  In a comparison test published in the in February 1989 edition of C&D (Car and Driver magazine, not noted for being lavish in its praise of the US industry’s output), the writers declared it a better car than the Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (which may seem a slight achievement given the R107 was then some 18 years old and on a platform which had been designed in the late 1960s) and didn’t much dwell on either the Cadillac being some 15% cheaper nor it delivering slightly better fuel economy; their judgement was all about the driving experience likely to be typical of buyers (many of whom probably wouldn't notice the difference between FWD and RWD) although perhaps the sight of the “Pininfarina” script on the flanks lent some rose-tinting to their spectacles.  The testers noted the US-Italian hybrid was better suited to the urban conditions where most people would be operating most of the time, finding the Allanté more nimble and decidedly more modern although what was left unstated was it was remarkable the trans-continental effort managed to be only slightly better in some aspects than what was a design two decades old and in its final months.

Last days of the baroque: 1989 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL in Light Ivory over Brasil Dark Brown leather.

The RoW (rest of the world) R107s & C107s didn't suffer the disfiguring modifications (headlights for the whole model life, bumper bars after 1973) fitted to the NA (North America) market cars to ensure compliance with various US regulations.  In the US, there's now a minor industry importing the RoW headlights and bumper bars to restore cars to the appearance the designers intended. 

In one area though, the 560 SL proved its mettle, the 5.5 litre (338 cubic inch) V8 out-running the Cadillac by 10 mph (16 km/h) in top speed and effortlessly out-accelerating it in any range about 25 mph (40 km/h), the advantage increasing as speeds rose.  Despite all the effort and expense, in some seven years, fewer than 21,500 Allantés were built while Mercedes-Benz shipped 237,287 R107s plus 62,888 LWB coupés (C107, 1971-1981) on the same platform, an average annual build rate over 18 years of some 17,000, two-thirds of which were exported to North America where, in places like Los Angeles, they were for decades the preferred (one suspects almost obligatory) transport for types such as interior decorators, successful hairdressers, the wives of cosmetic surgeons and bare-shouldered Hollywood starlets.  Had Lindsay Lohan in 1989 been of age, she'd have been at the wheel of a 560 SL.  Cadillac has had its failures (infamously the Cimarron) but it's believed never to have booked more of a loss on a single model than was the accountants' final reckoning of the (by then virtual) red-ink in which the Allanté's numbers were written.  By comparison, the write-down suffered with the cancellation of the division's remarkable Blackwing V8 (2018-2020) was relatively modest.  

1933 Cadillac 355C Coupe Convertible.  In 1933, Cadillacs had buttons but not many because there was then not so much stuff to activate although a valve-radio was on the options list.  As a nice touch (and a hint Cadillac understood their target market), a “golf bag compartment” was fitted behind the passenger’s door.  The external trunk and folding luggage rack were optional extras.

Introduced for 1931 as a lower cost range because the effects of the Great Depression drastically had reduced demand for Cadillac’s V12 & V16 lines, the V8-powered 355s (1931-1935) were, until the Allanté in 1987, the last Cadillac to be offered as a two-seat convertible although La Salle (its lower-cost stable mate) would offer the style as late as 1940, the year the brand was retired after a seven year stay of execution.  Cadillac called the coachwork a “Convertible Coupe” because “roadster” was associated with smaller, lighter machines; had it been built in England this would be dubbed a DHC (drop head coupé) while continental manufacturers would have preferred “cabriolet”.  In the elaborate Mercedes-Benz naming system it would be a “Cabriolet A” which designated “a two, door, two seat cabriolet with no rear quarter glass panes”.  The existence of supplemental passenger accommodation in the rumble seat does not affect the use of “Cabriolet A” because (1) Daimler-Benz never created a designation to describe the configuration (although “Cabriolet E” seems not to have been allocated if the factory is in the mood for retrospection) and (2) “Cabriolet A” anyway included certain models with provision for a third occupant in the rear of the passenger compartment. 

1933 Cadillac 355C Coupe Convertible. 

Somewhat unusually for the industry, Cadillac’s alpha-numerics were from day one locked in (355A (1931), 355B (1932), 355C (1933), 355D (1934) & 355E (1935)) so the “A” was not a retrospective appendage, unlike the Chrysler 300A which (informally) became the description of the 1955 C-300 only after, impressed by the sales of what had been intended as a one-off model to homologate parts for use in competition, the company for 1956 released the 300B.  Retiring the 355 range after 1935 meant Cadillac in 1939 never had to face the problem which afflicted not only Chrysler (when updating the 300H) but also bra manufacturers (what to slot-in between a 32H & 32J?) and the USAF (US Air Force) (when updating the Boeing B52H).  The issue always was the desire to avoid an “I” being confused with a numeric “1”.  Chrysler and Boeing solved the problem by skipping the letter “I” and going straight to “J” while in the bra business there are very few “I cups”, the usual convention being to offer an “HH” (“double-H” in retail slang) or a “J”.  Although nominally a two-seater, three (snugly) could be accommodated and two more could fit in the rumble seat, the so-called “mother-in-law seat”, an appellation which makes most sense if she’s put there while the soft-top is in the raised position.  Unlike the Allanté, the 355 Coupe Convertibles were bodied in the US by Fisher, a GM (General Motors) coach-building division which was shuttered in 1984.

Reset button on early (clone) PC.

The stability of the PC (personal computer) has improved since August 1981 when the first IBM PC-1 appeared, triggering several waves of transformative changes which profoundly have altered the world; the AI (artificial intelligence) cycle is merely the latest of these “revolutions” and is unlikely to be the last.  One feature common on PCs during their first two decades of existence was the “reset button”, an oft-resorted to device because of the propensity of the things to “freeze” or lock-up, rendering the keyboard (until the late 1980s, mice were rare, expensive and used mostly by a lunatic fringe) useless.  While it might seem a redundant feature given each machine came with an on/off switch or button, the two performed distinct functions related to the limitations of the hardware and operation systems of the era.  The on/off switch performed a “cold start”, cutting and then restoring power to all components, an inherently slow and potentially stress-inducing process.  By contrast, the reset button triggered a “warm reset” which electrically asserted the CPU’s (central processing unit) RESET line (which, as implemented by many manufacturers, also often often reset the system bus) without cutting power; what it did was immediately restart execution at the firmware’s entry point (BIOS (basic input output (I/O) system) on genuine IBM PCs) while leaving the power-flow to the system uninterrupted.  The most obvious practical advantage of using the reset button was a faster restart and a reduction in mechanical wear on hard & and floppy drives by not subjecting them to spin-down & spin-up cycles.

Front panel on early (clone) PC.

The key (to the right, below the on/off power switch) enabled users to "lock" the keyboard, preventing use of the machine.  This mechanical security layer was required because the early operating systems had no accounts requiring a login and no password protection, meaning anyone who turned the thing on had unfettered access (very few programs offered application-level security).  The "Turbo" button was there to permit users to "throttle-back" to CPU to the 4.77 MHz speed used by the 8086 & 8088 CPUs in the original PCs.  That was needed to ensure some older software (especially games) would still run on newer hardware, running at a dazzling 7.16 or 9.54 MHz.  

Because almost all the early operating systems (PC/MS-DOS, CP/M-86 and the various UNIX ports) had no memory protection and only primitive fault recovery, a single misbehaving program could (1) disable the interrupts upon which hardware depended, (2) corrupt the system state and (3) make the keyboard wholly unresponsive.  Not only did all these things happen, they happened with some frequency so the advantages of the reset button offered were a real benefit to users.  The hardware also enjoyed a protection layer because the power switches on early PCs were "hard mechanical mains" switches, often directly switching line voltage which meant rapid power cycling could stress the power supply, cause voltage transients harmful to expansion cards and risk data corruption or loss because robust “parking” mechanisms were rare on the early hard drives.  As operating systems gained protected mode, multitasking, and graceful reboot mechanisms, the need for reset buttons diminished and gradually they disappeared from the standard specification.

Reset button: Sergey Lavrov (left) and crooked Hillary Clinton, Geneva, 2009.  The delicious irony is that one of crooked Hillary's few diplomatic successes came from a mistake in translation.  

Having failed in 2008 to secure the Democratic Party’s nomination to contest that year’s presidential election, crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947) between 2009-2013 to the consolation prize of becoming US secretary of state, the job she decided was a prelude to her becoming POTUS in 2016, a position to which she believed she was entitled.  Things didn’t quite work out as she’d hoped and her tenure at Foggy Bottom was marked by scandal (related, predictably, to her chronic untruthfulness) but one potential “diplomatic incident” was allowed to pass without adverse comment on the basis “she meant well”.  Following a not untypically troubled recent past, Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017) decided to try to improve Washington’s relations with the Kremlin.  As a gesture in this vein, in 2009, crooked Hillary presented Sergey Lavrov (b 1950 Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs since 2004) with a red button (of the type often used in heavy machinery as an “emergency stop”) on which was printed “Reset” and a Roman alphabet transliteration of the Russian Cyrillic перегрузка (peregruzka).  The idea was, with the arrival in Washington of a new administration, the two states should “re-start” their relationship and try to pretend to forget as much as possible of the past.  Unfortunately, the department got the translation wrong and used the Russian word for “overload”; it should have read перезагрузка (perezagruzka).  Mr Lavrov however was also at the time anxious to improve things and accepted the gift in the spirit in which it was intended, he and crooked Hillary pushing the button simultaneously for several photo opportunities.

Lindsay Lohan’s belly button adorned  with belly button jewellery, Los Angeles, 2009.

The noun buttonology genuinely does exist.  It was a calque of the Swedish knappologi and used to refer to the fashion for pedantic and often pointless systematization.  The construct followed the Swedish model (knapp (button) +‎ -ologi, coined by Swedish author August Strindberg (1849–1912) and appearing in the short story De lycksaliges ö (The Isle of the Blessed) which although written in 1884, wasn’t published until 1891 when it appeared in the compilation Svenska öden och äventyr (Swedish Destinies and Adventures).  Buttonology is used most often as a generic term to decry the exaggerated, obsessive or pointlessly pedantic systematization, especially of trivial subjects but literally it can describe the study or categorization of buttons (in the sense of clothing fasteners).  Obviously, practitioners of buttonology are buttonologists.  In a light-hearted vein, in the training of software engineers and designers, it’s the component of the course focusing on user interfaces (where there can be many buttons).  In US military slang, buttonology is used of user interfaces generally.

Childless cat lady Taylor Swift (b 1989) with Ragdoll Benjamin Button, named after the eponymous character in the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008), Time Magazine cover for “Person of the Year” edition, 25 December, 2023.  Ragdoll cats make good stoles because (attributed to a genetic mutation), they tend to “go limp” when picked up.

An owner of three most contented felines, gleefully, Ms Swift in 2024 embraced the appellation “childless cat lady” after wide publicity of its earlier use as a slur by James David (J.D.) Vance (b 1984; VPOTUS since 2025), something prompted by Mr Vance being named as Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) running-mate in the 2024 US presidential election.  The now famous phrase had been used in a 2021 interview with then Fox News host Tucker Carlson (b 1969) when he lamented the decline in the state of the nation: “…we are effectively run in this country via the Democrats, via our corporate oligarchs, by a bunch of childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices that they've made and so they want to make the rest of the country miserable too.”  Mr Vance may have struck an electoral chord because while Kamala Harris (b 1964; US vice president 2021-2025) presumably gained the childless cat lady vote, the Trump-Vance ticket won the election: 77,302,580 (49.8%) to 75,017,613 (48.3%) in the popular vote and 312 to 226 in the Electoral College on a turnout of 64.1%.

Pressed or pushed, many buttons needed.

The literal (physical) button-hole was noted in tailoring first during the 1560s, the figurative sense "to detain (someone) unwillingly in conversation” dating from 1862, a variation of the earlier button-hold (1834) and button-holder (1806), all based on the image is of holding someone by the coat-button so as to detain them.  The adjectival push-button (characterized by pressing a button used to activate something) emerged in 1945 as a consequence of the increasing public appreciation of the extent to which military weapons systems had become electronically controlled.  The earlier form “push-buttons" was from 1903, a modification of the noun push-button (button pressed with the finger to effect some operation) from 1865, then applied to mechanical devices.  The earlier adjectival form was “press-button” (1892) derived from the noun (1879).  For no apparent reason, it was the earlier “press of a button” which tended in the 1950s & 1960s to be preferred to “push of a button” to express the concern felt at the ease with which the US and USSR could trigger global thermo-nuclear war although “flick of a switch” also achieved much currency.  None were exactly usefully descriptive of a complex chain of events but it’s true that in a launch of nuclear weapons, many buttons and switches still are involved.

Highly qualified content provider Busty Buffy (b 1996) during “button-theory” test session.  Button theory involves trying on “button-up” tops of various sizes and subjecting each to normal human movement, the test “passed” when no buttons “pop open”.

In fashion, the number of a top’s buttons “left undone” is a signifier of various things and the range extends from “all done up” to “all undone”, the latter usually restricted to catwalks and red carpets when stability of fabric sometimes is achieved with the use of adhesive, double-sided tape.  While not culturally specific, the meanings signified by the number left undone (usually from top-to-bottom) can differ depending on certain circumstantial variables (time, place, temperature, wearer, presence of paparazzi etc).

No fear of button theory: Button theory suggests buttons can be done-up or undone.  Noted empiricist Lindsay Lohan has for some years been undertaking a longitudinal study to test theory.

The fear of buttons is koumpounophobia, the construct being the Modern Greek κουμπί (koumpí) +‎ -phobia and the word, like many describing phobias is a neologism.  Koumpi was from the Ancient Greek κομβίον (kombíon) translates as button in its two literal senses (a fastener for clothing or a device for instrument or remote mechanical control).  A button in Greek is thus κουμπί (koumpí) (the plural κουμπιά) and the verb is κουμπώνω (koumpóno).  In the Ancient Greek the lexemic unit koump- didn’t exist although it did have κομβίον (kombíon (which exists in Modern Greek as komvíon)) which meant buckle.  It may seem as strange omission because Ancient Greek had κουμπούνω, (koumpouno) which meant “to button” but the root was κύαμος (komos or koumos) meaning “broad bean” and, because there were no buttons in the Greece of Antiquity, they used appropriately sized & shaped beans as clothes fasteners.  The construct of koumpouno (to button) koum(os) + + πονέω (poneo) (to work; to exert), the idea of a bean which is used again and again.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).  In medicine, the absence of the belly button is a rare congenital defect, the medical term for which is omphalocele, usually something ultimately of no physiological significance but because it can cause psychological distress, plastic surgeons can re-construct one, a relatively simple procedure.  The alternative for an omphalocelic is to shun omphalophiliacs and hook up with someone who suffers omphalophobia (fear of the belly button); they should live happily ever after.  The phobia koumpounophobia is unrelated and references only the manufactured objects.

Lindsay Lohan in trench coat buttons up.  As fashionistas know, with a trench the belt is tied, only the military buckling up.

So, in the narrow technical sense, an etymologist might insist koumpounophobia is the fear of clothing fasteners rather than buttons of all types but that seems not helpful and it’s regarded as a generalised aversion and one said sometimes associated with kyklophobia (the fear of circles or other round objects) and especially the surprisingly common trypophobia (fear of holes (particularly if clustered or in some way arranged in a pattern)).  Estimates of the prevalence of the condition have been given by some but these are unverified and it’s not clear if those who for whatever reason prefer zips, Velcro or some other fastener are included and with phobias, numbers really should include only those where the aversion has some significant impact on life.  The symptoms suffered can include (1) an inability to tolerate the sight, sound, or texture of buttons, (2) feelings of panic, dread, or terror when seeing or thinking about buttons, (3) an acknowledgment that the fear is either wholly irrational or disproportionate to the potential danger.  Koumpounophobia reactions are usually automatic & uncontrollable and the source may be unknown or experiential (exposure to some disturbing imagery or description of buttons or an actual event involving buttons such as swallowing one when a child).  Like many phobias, the physical reactions can include a rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, trembling, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, inability to speak or think clearly, tightening of stomach muscles, and an overwhelming desire to escape from button-related situations.  All are likely to involve an anxiety attack to some extent and the recommended treatment is the staggered exposure therapy used for many phobias; the patient slowly learning to wear, use and live with buttons; antidepressants, tranquillisers & beta-blockers are now considered medications of last resort.

Buttons are hard to avoid.

What is sometimes treated as koumpounophobia can be a manifestation of a different phobia.  In the literature there are examples of buttons triggering anxiety when touched or viewed but the reaction was actually to texture, color or a resemblance to something (typically a face, mouth or teeth).  The button is thus incidental to the reaction in the same way that those with mysophobia (in popular use the germophobic) may react to buttons because of the association with uncleanliness.  One documented aspect of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is that many sufferers immediately wash their hands after touching a button; the increased prevalence of this behaviour during the COVID-19 pandemic in relation to buttons touched by other (keyboards, elevators etc) is not thought indicative of a phobia but would be if it manifests as life-long behaviour.

Apple Magic Mouse, Multi-Touch Surface in white @ US$99.00 (left), Logitech Signature M650 L, full-size wireless two-button Scroll Mouse with Silent Clicks in blue @ US$37.99 (centre) and Steve Jobs' vision of hell: Canon 5565B001 X Mark I Slim 3-in-1 wireless mouse with keypad calculator @ US$49.95. 

Steve Jobs (1955-2011; co-founder, and sometime chairman & CEO of Apple) was said to have an aversion to buttons, something linked to his fondness for button-free turtleneck clothing but given he spent decades using keyboards without apparent ill-effect, it’s doubtful a clinician would diagnose koumpounophobia and it's more likely he was just convinced of the technological advantages of going button-less.  Without buttons, manufacturing processes would be cheaper, water-proofing devices like iPhones would become (at least theoretically) possible and upgrades would no longer be constrained by static buttons, the user interface wholly virtualized on one flat panel, able to be changed (the industry's term for "change" is "upgrade" although users don't always agree there has been an improvement) purely in software.  It apparently started with the button-less Apple mouse, the industry legend being Mr Jobs saw a prototype (which the designers regarded as nothing more than speculative) and insisted it become Apple’s standard device.

Whether or not it happened that way, the story is illustrative of the way business was done at Apple and it’s notable his veto on offering a stylus with which to interact with apps or the operating system didn’t survive his death.  His response to the idea of a stylus was reportedly “yuk” and he seems to have decided all his users would think the same way and probably he was right, Apple’s users tending usually to do what Apple tells them to do.  Indeed, one of reasons Apple has found the Chinese market so receptive to the iPhone is that the company's approach accords with "the Chinese way": First, their parents tell them what to do, then their teachers tell them what to do, then the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) tells them what to do; Apple found it most agreeable they also did what it told them to do.  However, for those who find the sleek Apple mouse better to behold than use, third-party products with buttons and scroll wheels are available, sometimes for half the cost of the genuine article.  Since the death of Mr Jobs, Apple has relented on the "stylus question".

Shiny on the outside: Finished in Bianco Avus over black leather with Rosso Corsa (racing red) instruments, of the 400 Ferrai Enzos (2002-2004) chassis 133023 (2003) was the only one the factory painted white.  Some Ferraris really suit white, notably the elegant 365 GT4 2+2 and the successor 400 and 412 models (1972-1989).

The dreaded “Ferrari sticky buttons” is a well-known phenomenon, the stickiness coming from the rubberized material preferred by the factory because of the superior feel offered.  However, under just about any climatic conditions, continuous use will induce a deterioration which resembles melting, "mushiness" the final outcome.  The internet is awash with suggestions, the simplest of which involves products like rubbing alcohol (the use of which can cause its own destructiveness) and the consensus seems to be that in many cases only replacement buttons will produce a satisfactory result.  The choice is between obtaining the real Ferrari part-number (if available) with the knowledge the problem will re-occur or use third-part replacements which are made of a more durable material, the disadvantage being the feel won’t be quite the same and there’s a reluctance among some to use non-factory parts, an attitude enforced by the "originality police". 

Sticky on the inside: Ferrari 485 California F1 gearbox buttons, sticky (left) and not (right).

Ferrari does use the suspect material for a reason and it’s applied to interior components such as trim, bezels, buttons & switches, and heating, ventilation & air-conditioning panels.  The coatings are usually referred to as “soft-touch” and designers like them for the soft, velvet-like feel imparted.  Used also on computer mice and electronic remote controls, the low gloss sheen is in cars helpful because being absorptive, glare is reduced and Ferrari uses both a clear and black finish.  It’s an issue not exclusive to Ferraris although owners of those do seem most concerned and while using rubbing alcohol might sound a tempting Q&D (quick & dirty) fix, for those with sticky buttons this is probably a job best left to experts of which there are now a few and they're finding business good.