Ultracrepidarian

Ultracrepidarian (pronounced uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uhn)

Of or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside their area of expertise

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.  Ultracrepidarian is a noun & verb and ultracrepidarianism is a noun; the noun plural is ultracrepidarians.  For humorous purposes, forms such as ultracrepidarist, ultracrepidarianish, ultracrepidarianize & ultracrepidarianesque have been coined; all are non-standard.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining; the odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling.  Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC)), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of sandals and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the errant straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

So critics should comment only on that about which they know.  The phrase in English is usually “cobbler, stick to your last” (a last a shoemaker’s pattern, ultimately from a Germanic root meaning “to follow a track'' hence footstep) and exists in many European languages: zapatero a tus zapatos is the Spanish, schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest the Dutch, skomager, bliv ved din læst the Danish and schuster, bleib bei deinen leisten, the German.  Pliny’s actual words were ne supra crepidam judicaret, (crepidam a sandal or the sole of a shoe), but the idea is conveyed is in several ways in Latin tags, such as Ne sutor ultra crepidam (sutor means “cobbler”, a word which survives in Scotland in the spelling souter).  The best-known version is the abbreviated tag ultra crepidam (beyond the sole), and it’s that which Hazlitt used to construct ultracrepidarian.  Crepidam is from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís) and has no link with words like decrepit or crepitation (which are from the Classical Latin crepare (to creak, rattle, or make a noise)) or crepuscular (from the Latin word for twilight); crepidarian is an adjective rare perhaps to the point of extinction meaning “pertaining to a shoemaker”.

The related terms are "Nobel disease" & "Nobel syndrome" which are used to describe some of the opinions offered by Nobel laureates on subjects beyond their specialization.  In some cases this is "demand" rather than "supply" driven because, once a prize winner is added to a media outlet's "list of those who comment on X", if they turn out to give answers which generate audience numbers, controversy or clicks, they become "talent" and may be asked questions about matters of which they know little.  This happens because some laureates in the three "hard" prizes (physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine) operate in esoteric corners of their discipline; asking a particle physicist something about plasma physics on the basis of their having won the physics prize may not elicit useful information.  Of course those who have won the economics gong or one of what are now the DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) prizes (peace & literature) may be assumed to have helpful opinions on everything.

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

Number 11 (Blue poles, 1952), Oil, enamel and aluminum paint with glass on canvas.

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the NGA (National Gallery of Australia), a little controversially, paid Aus$1.3 million for Jackson Pollock’s (1912-1956) Number 11, 1952, popularly known as Blue Poles since it was first exhibited in 1954, the new name reputedly chosen by the artist.  It was some years ago said to be valued at up to US$100 million but, given the increase in the money supply (among the rich who trade this stuff) over the last two decades odd, that estimate may now be conservative although the suggestion in 2016 the value may have inflated to as much as US$350 million was though to be "on the high side".  Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas spread across the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened; he died in a drink-driving accident.

Alchemy (1947), Oil, aluminum, alkyd enamel paint with sand, pebbles, fibres, and broken wooden sticks on canvas.

Although the general public remained uninterested (except in the price tags) or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced lots of stuff which can sell for millions.  US historian of art, curator & author Helen A Harrison (b 1943; director (1990-2024) of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, the former home and studio of the Abstract Expressionist artists Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, New York) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

Number 14: Gray (1948), Enamel over gesso on paper.

“Reminiscent of the Surrealist notions of the subconscious and automatic painting, Pollock's abstract works cemented his reputation as the most critically championed proponent of Abstract Expressionism. His visceral engagement with emotions, thoughts and other intangibles gives his abstract imagery extraordinary immediacy, while his skillful use of fluid pigment, applied with dance-like movements and sweeping gestures that seldom actually touched the surface, broke decisively with tradition. At first sight, Pollock's vigorous method appears to create chaotic labyrinths, but upon close inspection his strong rhythmic structures become evident, revealing a fascinating complexity and deeper significance.  Far from being calculated to shock, Pollock's liquid medium was crucial to his pictorial aims.  It proved the ideal vehicle for the mercurial content that he sought to communicate 'energy and motion made visible - memories arrested in space'.”

Number 13A: Arabesque (1948), Oil and enamel on canvas.

Critics either less visionary or more fastidious seemed often as appalled by Pollock’s violence of technique as they were by the finished work (or “products” as some labelled the drip paintings), questioning whether any artistic skill or vision even existed, one finding them “…mere unorganized explosions of random energy, and therefore meaningless.”  The detractors used the language of academic criticism but meant the same thing as the frequent phrase of an unimpressed public: “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”

Number 1, 1949 (1949), Enamel and metallic paint on canvas. 

There have been famous responses to  “That’s not art, anyone could do that” but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything” by which she meant the wouldn't necessarily come up with anything of which the critical establishment (a kind of freemasonry of the art business) would approve (ie could put a price tag on).

Helen A Harrison, The Jackson Pollock Box (Cider Mill Press, 96pp, ISBN-10:1604331860, ISBN-13:978-1604331868).

In 2010, Ms Harrison released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.  Of course, many who thought their own eye for art quite well-trained didn't agree with Ms Guggenheim.  In 1945, just after the war, Duff Cooper (1890–1954), then serving as Britain's ambassador to France, came across Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) leaving an exhibition of paintings by English children aged 5-10 and in his diary noted the great cubist saying he "had been much impressed".  "No wonder" added the ambassador, "the pictures are just as good as his".

Dresses & drips: Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene (1872-1951) & Henri Bendel (1868-1936).

Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting; pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt best illustrates the value of his trained eye.  Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.  There have been interesting discussions about when last it could be said Western art had a "centre".

Blue Poles, upside down.

Although the suggestion might offend the trained and discerning eyes of art critics, it’s doubtful that for ultracrepidarians the experience of viewing Blue Poles would much be different were it to be hung upside down.  Fortunately, the world does have a goodly stock of art critics who can explain that while Pollock did more than once say his works should be interpreted “subjectively”, their intended orientation is a part of the whole and an inversion would change the visual dynamics and gravitational illusions upon which the abstraction effects depend would be changed.  It would still be a painting but, in a sense, not the one the artist painted.  Because the drip technique involved “flinging and poring paint” onto a canvas spread across a studio’s floor, there was not exactly a randomness in where the paint landed but physics did mean gravity exerted some pull (in flight and on the ground), lending layers and rivulets what must be a specific downward orientation.  Thus, were the work to be hung inverted, what was in the creative process a downward flow would be seen as “flowing uphill” as it were.  The compositional elements which lent the work its name were course the quasi-vertical “poles” placed at slight angles and its these which are the superstructure which “anchor” the rest of the drips and, being intrinsically “directional”, they too have a “right way up”.  There is in the assessment of art the “eye of the beholder” but although it may be something they leave unstated, most critics will be of the “some eyes are more equal than others” school.

Mondrian’s 1941 New York City 1 as it (presumably correctly) sat in the artist's studio in 1944 (left) and as it was since 1945 exhibited (upside-down) in New York and Düsseldorf (right).  Spot the difference.

So although ultracrepidarians may not “get it” (even after digesting the critics’ explanations) and wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not it was hung correctly, that’s because they’re philistines.  In the world of abstract art however, even the critics can be fooled: in 2022, it was revealed a work in Piet Mondrian’s (1872-1944) 1941 New York City 1 series had for 77 years been hanging upside down.  First in exhibited in 1945 in New York’s MOMA (Museum of Modern Art), the piece was created with multi-colored adhesive paper tape and, in an incorrect orientation, it has since 1980 hung in the Düsseldorf Museum as part of the Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen’s collection.  The decades-long, trans-Atlantic mistake came to light during a press conference held to announce the Kunstsammlung’s new Mondrian exhibition and the conclusion was the error may have been caused by something as simple as the packing-crate being overturned or misleading instructions being given to the staff.  1941 New York City 1 will remain upside because of the condition of the adhesive strips.  “The adhesive tapes are already extremely loose and hanging by a thread” a curator was quoted as saying, adding that if it were now to be turned-over, “…gravity would pull it into another direction.  And it’s now part of the work’s story.”  Mondrian was one of the more significant theorists of abstract art and its withdrawal from nature and natural subjects.  “Denaturalization” he proclaimed to be a milestone in human progress, adding: “The power of neo-plastic painting lies in having shown the necessity of this denaturalization in painterly terms... to denaturalize is to abstract... to abstract is to deepen.”  Now even ultracrepidarians can understand.

Eye of the beholder: Portrait of Lindsay Lohan in the style of Claude Monet (1840–1926) at craiyon.com and available at US$26 on an organic cotton T-shirt made in a factory powered by renewable energy.

Whether the arguments about what deserves to be called “art” began among prehistoric “artists” and their critics in caves long ago isn’t known but it’s certainly a dispute with a long history.  In the sense it’s a subjective judgment the matter was doubtless often resolved by a potential buyer declining to purchase but during the twentieth century it became a contested topic and there were celebrated exhibits and squabbles which for decades played out before, in the post modern age, the final answer appeared to be something was art if variously (1) the creator said it was or (2) an art critic said it was or (3) it was in an art gallery or (4) the price tag was sufficiently impressive.

So what constitutes “art” is a construct of time, place & context which evolves, shaped by historical, cultural, social, economic, political & personal influences, factors which in recent years have had to be cognizant of the rise of cultural equivalency, the recognition that Western concepts such as the distinction between “high” (or “fine”) art and “folk” (or “popular”) art can’t be applied to work from other traditions where cultural objects are not classified by a graduated hierarchy.  In other words, everybody’s definition is equally valid.  That doesn’t mean there are no longer gatekeepers because the curators in institutions such as museums, galleries & academies all discriminate and thus play a significant role in deciding what gets exhibited, studied & promoted, even though few would now dare to suggest what is art and what is not: that would be cultural imperialism.

Eye of the prompt 1.0: An AI (artificial intelligence) generated portrait of Lindsay Lohan by ChatGPT imagined in "drip painting style", this one using an interpretation which overlaid "curated drips" over "flung paint".  This could be rendered using Ms Harrison's Jackson Pollock Box but would demand some talent.

In the twentieth century, it seemed to depend on artistic intent, something which transcended a traditional measure such as aesthetic value but as the graphic art in advertising and that with a political purpose such as agitprop became bigger, brighter and more intrusive, such forms also came to be regarded as art or at least worth of being studied or exhibited on the same basis, in the same spaces as oil on canvas portraits & landscapes.  Once though, an unfamiliar object in such places could shock as French painter & sculptor Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) managed in 1917 when he submitted a porcelain urinal as his piece for an exhibition in New York, his rationale being “…everyday objects raised to the dignity of a work of art by the artist's act of choice.”  Even then it wasn’t a wholly original approach but the art establishment has never quite recovered and from that urinal to Dadaism, to soup cans to unmade beds, it became accepted that “anything goes” and people should be left to make of it what they will.  Probably the last remaining reliable guide to what really is "art" remains the price tag.

Eye of the prompt 1.1: An AI (artificial intelligence) generated portrait of Lindsay Lohan by ChatGPT imagined in "drip painting style", this one closer to Pollock’s “action painting” technique.

His drip period wholly non-representational, Pollock didn’t produce recognizable portraiture so applying the technique for this purpose demands guesswork.  As AI illustrates, it can be done but, in blending two incompatible modes, whether it looks much like what Pollock would have produced had he accepted a “paint Lindsay Lohan” commission, is wholly speculative.  What is more likely is that even if some sort of hybrid, a portrait by Pollock would have been an abstraction altogether more chaotic and owing little to the structure on which such works usually depend in that there probably would have been no central focal point, fewer hints of symmetry and a use of shading producing a face not lineal in its composition.  That’s what his sense of “continuous motion” dictated: no single form becoming privileged over the rest.  So, this too is not for the literalists schooled in the tradition of photo-realism but as a work it’s also an example of how most armed with Ms Harrison's Jackson Pollock Box could with "drip & fling" produce this but not necessarily would produce this, chaos on canvas needing talent too.

1948 Cisitalia 202 GT (left; 1947-1952) and 1962 Jaguar E-Type (1961-1974; right), Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York City.

Urinals tend not to be admired for their aesthetic qualities but there are those who find beauty in stuff as diverse as math equations and battleships.  Certain cars have long been objects which can exert an emotional pull on those with a feeling for such things and if the lines are sufficiently pleasing, many flaws in execution or engineering can be forgivgen.  New York’s MOMA in 1972 acknowledged such creations can be treated as works of art when they added a 1948 Cisitalia 202 GT finished in “Cisitalia Red” (MoMA object number 409.1972) to their collection, the press release noting it was “…the first time that an art museum in the U.S. put a car into its collection.”  Others appeared from time-to-time and while the 1953 Willys-Overland Jeep M-38A1 Utility Truck (MoMA object number 261.2002) perhaps is not conventionally beautiful, its brutish functionalism has a certain simplicity of form and in the exhibition notes MoMA clarified somewhat by describing it as a “rolling sculpture”, presumably in the spirit of a urinal being a “static sculpture”, both to be admired as pieces of design perfectly suited to their intended purpose, something of an art in itself.  Of the 1962 Jaguar E-Type (sometimes informally as XKE or XK-E in the US) open two seater (OTS, better known as a roadster and acquired as MoMA object number 113.996), there was no need to explain because it’s one of the most seductive shapes ever rendered in metal.  Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) attended the 1961 Geneva International Motor Show (now defunct but, on much the same basis as manufacturers east of Suez buying brand-names such as MG, Jaguar and such, the name has been purchased for use by an event in staged in Qatar) when the E-Type made its stunning debut and part of folklore is he called it “the most beautiful car in the world”.  Whether those words ever passed his lips isn’t certain because the sources vary slightly in detail and il Commendatore apparently never confirmed or denied the sentiment but it’s easy to believe and to this day many agree just looking at the thing can be a visceral experience.  The MoMA car is finished in "Opalescent Dark Blue" with a grey interior and blue soft-top (there are those who would prefer it in BRG (British Racing Green) over tan leather) and although as a piece of design it's not flawless, anyone who can't see the beauty in a Series 1 E-Type OTS is truly an ultracrepidarian.   

Patent

Patent (pronounced pat-nt or peyt-nt)

(1) The exclusive right, granted by a government to an inventor (or owner of the invention) to manufacture, use or sell an invention for a certain length of time.

(2) An invention or process protected by an exclusive right to manufacture, use, or sell it.

(3) An official document conferring on the inventor the exclusive right to manufacture, use, or sell an invention; letters patent.

(4) Protected by an exclusive right given to an inventor to manufacture, use, or sell an invention; patented; the holding of an exclusive right to manufacture, use, or sell an invention.

(5) Relating to, concerned with, or dealing with the granting of exclusive rights to sell or manufacture something, especially inventions (ie the matter of “patent law” dealt with by a “patent attorney”.

(6) Of or pertaining to a right, privilege etc conferred by a patent.

(7) To take out a patent on; obtain the exclusive rights to (an invention, process, etc) by securing a patent.

(8) In US law, the instrument with which by which the federal government conveys a legal title in fee-simple (freehold) to public land.

(9) An ellipsis of patent leather (a varnished, high-gloss leather used in fashion for shoes, handbags, coats and such).

(10) As patent leather, a hide treated in a way which results in a very shiny surface.

(11) Of plate glass, ground and polished on both sides,

(12) In pharmaceuticals, (of a medication) sold without a prescription and usually protected by an exclusive legal right to manufacture (described often as “patent remedies” or “patent drugs”).

(13) In medicine, (of a duct or passage in the body) open or unobstructed.

(14) In medicine (including veterinary medicine) of an infection, in the phase when the organism causing it can be detected by clinical tests.

(15) In phonetics, open, in various degrees, to the passage of the breath stream.

(16) In metallurgy to heat a metal above a transformation temperature and then quench (cool) it in preparation for cold-drawing, wire pulling etc.

(17) In gambling, the combination of seven bets on three selections, offering a return even if only one bet comes in.

(18) In baking (of flour), fine, and consisting mostly of the inner part of the endosperm of the grain from which it is milled.

(19) In botany (and sometimes in horticulture and agriculture generally), expanded or spreading.

(20) Lying open; not enclosed or shut in (often as “a patent field” and applied also to open doorways, passages and such.

(21) Readily open to notice or observation; evident unconcealed, conspicuous, palpable, clear (usually in the phrase “patently obvious”).

(22) To originate and establish as one's own.

(23) A characteristic or quality that one possesses; in particular (hyperbolic) as if exclusively; a monopoly (often in the form “got a patent on”).

(24) An official document granting a right (the significance of the "patent" element in "letters patent" being it indicated the document was openly published an accessible to all (ie in the sense of the Latin patēns).

(25) Any right granted by such a document.

1250–1300: As an adjective, patent was from the Middle English patent, from the Latin patent-, stem of patēns (open, standing open), present participle of patēre (to stand open, lie open).  The Middle English noun patent (document granting an office, property, right, title, etc.; document granting permission, licence; papal indulgence, pardon) was either a clipping of “letters patent”, a translation of the Medieval Latin littera patēns or litterae patentēs (open letters) or was directly from the Anglo-Norman and Middle French patente (which endures in modern French as patent) or a clipping of the Anglo-Norman lettres patentes, Middle French lettres patentes, lettre patente and Old French patentes lettres (document granting an office, privilege, right, etc or making a decree).  The adjective patent (granting a right, privilege, or power) emerged late in the fourteenth century while the sense of “open to view, plain, clear” was in use by at least 1505 and use as an adverb dates from the mid fifteenth century.

The verb dates from the 1670s and was derived from the Middle English nouns patent & patente (wide open; clear, unobstructed; unlimited; of a document: available for public inspection), from the Anglo-Norman & Middle French patent and directly from their etymon the Latin patēns (open; accessible, passable; evident, manifest; exposed, vulnerable), the present active participle of pateō (to be open; to be accessible, attainable; to be exposed, vulnerable; of frontiers or land: to extent, increase), from the primitive Indo-European pete or peth- (to spread out; to fly).  The verb originally was used in the sense of “to obtain right to land" by securing letters patent” while the meaning “obtain a copyright to an invention” was in use by at least 1822, building on the earlier meaning (recorded in 1789) “obtain an exclusive right or monopoly” a privilege granted by the Crown by the issue of letters patent.  Patents issued thus (for a licence granted by a government covering a new and useful invention, conferring exclusive right to exploit the invention for a specified term of years) came into use in the 1580s.  Patent is a noun, verb & adjective, patenter, patentor, patentee, patentholder, patency, patentability, impatency, patency & prepatent are nouns, patented is a verb & adjective, patenting is a verb, patentable, antipatent, patentlike, patentfree, patentless & impatent are adjectives and patentably & patently are adverbs; the noun plural is patents.  The derived forms (nonpatentable, unpatentability, repatent etc) are used as required.

Alice Geek Teck^TM strapless bra.  The product was released with Geek Teck^TM still in its "Pat. pend" phase.

The Alice Geek Teck^TM strapless bra was released in 2015, its novelty being the use of “Patent-Pending Geek Teck^TM” panels which exploited the Van Der Waals forces (intermolecular electrostatic attractive forces) created by their silicone construction with microscopic hair-like structures known as setae (analogous to those found on the feet of geckos, famous for their ability to attach themselves (upside-down) to ceilings, using, if need be, only one foot.  The theory was the Geek Teck^TM panels would “stick to” the wearer’s skin thereby enhancing the most important design imperative of the strapless bra: staying up.  US patent 9,402,424 was assigned to Kellie K apparel LLC but it seems not to have succeeded which is unfortunate because there’s a gap in the market for a genuinely gravity-defying strapless bra.

The familiar term “patent pending” (often seen stamped on products in the abbreviated form “Pat. pend.”) is used to indicate a patent application has been filed but has not yet been granted.  The significance of the use is: (1) it can act to deters competitors, signalling to potential “copycats” that patent protection is expected to be granted, thus discouraging attempts at imitation, (2) it’s thought to lend credibility to a product, thus conferring a marketing advantage, (3) it can make a product more attractive to potential investors because a patent grants years of protection from competition and (4) the existence of the label can in subsequent infringement proceedings lead to a higher award of damages because it can be used as evidence the other party did not act “in good faith”.  However, the mere existence of a “Pat. Pend.” label does not provide legal protection and others may still (at their own risk) copy and sell the product, something of significance because patent applications can take months (or even years in complex or contested matters) to process and there have been cases where a company violating a subsequently granted patent has “come and gone” (taking with them their profits) by the time a patent is granted.  Importantly, a manufacturer cannot mark something as “Pat. Pend.” just to try to ward of potential competition and in most jurisdictions it’s unlawful to use the term if no application has been filed.  In legal slang, “patentees” and “patentspeak” are terms referring to the legal and technical jargon used in the handling of patents while “patentometrics” is the statistical analysis of patents.

In law, “patent troll” is an informal term used (usually disparagingly) to describe an individual or company which acquires and enforces patents in an aggressive and opportunistic manner, often with no intention of producing, marketing, or promoting the subjects of the patents.  The term is based on the similar concepts “trademark troll” and “copyright troll” and in more formal use a “patent troll” is usually styled a “patent assertion entity” or a “non-practicing entity”.  The seemingly curious business model (making money by neither producing or selling stuff to which one holds the exclusive patent) works usually through litigation or (more typically) the threat of litigation, exploiting the cost–benefit imbalance between contesting versus settling a lawsuit.  Sometimes speculatively but usually because potential targets have been identified, patent trolls will (1) buy older or unused patents from bankrupt companies, small inventors or concerns which have no further use for them or (2) file new patents that are broad or vague, something especially prevalent in highly technical fields where change is rapid (anything IT related the classic example) and specialists can amass hundreds or even thousands of patents, some unambiguously enforceable, some with enough of a hint of validity to be a creditable threat.  Thus equipped, patent trolls search for possible targets for litigation, the ideal victims being (1) companies so big they might settle a claim for what is (for them) a small sum (though most lucrative for the trolls who may have done little more than send a C&D (cease & desist letter)) or (2) smaller companies which cannot afford the cost of litigation (they might settle for less but it’s still a profit to the troll) because even if a case successfully is defended, the cost of doing so can, in the US, run to millions.

What that means is the troll’s business model has three potential revenue streams: (1) licensing fees, (2) one-off settlements and (3) court-awarded damages (in the rare instances in which a case goes to trial).  With no costs associated with R&D (research & development), product testing, production or marketing, a troll’s overheads are comparatively minimal and limited usually to legal and administrative fees.  Highly developed practitioners of trolling also use elaborate company structures made up of trusts, shelf companies and such, often in trans-national form, the jurisdictions chosen on the basis of which is most advantageous for a certain purpose (secrecy, taxation arrangements, limitations of liability etc); all these layers can protect a troll’s assets from counter-claims.  Patents are also “just another asset” and once assembled become a portfolio which can be leveraged as investment vehicles, something done often by the device of bundling them in securitized form, sometimes S&Ded (sliced & diced) for sale to investors, not as individual patents but as a percentage of the whole.

Some products become known as “patent something” because they gained their original uniqueness by virtue of patent protection.  In nautical use, a “patent log” is a mechanical device dragged from the stern of the vessel and used to indicate the craft’s speed through the water; most consist of a rotator (ie on the principle of a propeller) and reading unit, connected by a stiff line (usually covered with a flexible, protective skin).  Even in the age of electronic sensors, patent logs remain in use because they are simple, reliable, low maintenance units which require no external power source, the rotator spinning as it proceeds astern, the rotations of the connecting line registered by a wheel works and dial mounted to the vessel's rail.  The earliest versions of mechanical logs had the counting attached directly to the rotator, meaning the apparatus had to be hauled aboard to “take a reading” so the US innovation in the 1860s of a connecting line (spinning a la the mechanical speedometers which later would appear in automobiles) was an advance which made the thing a “real time” device.

An 1881 Patent Log by Thomas Walker, on display at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum.

For many reasons, to know a vessel’s true speed was an important part of seamanship and “log” element in the name came from the old way sailors determined speed.  Since the sixteenth century, the technique had been to attach knotted rope to a wooden log which was heaved overboard and, the knots being tied at regular intervals, the number of knots counted off over a short period indicating the speed.  From this came the standard unit of speed at sea being the “knot” (one knot being equal to one nautical mile per hour and few things annoy old salts more than the expression “knots per hour”).  The log method obviously was inexact because of the variables to which it was subject so the mechanical device was a great advance.  A company founded by Thomas Walker (1805-1873) as a nautical instrument maker based in Birmingham (in England about as far as one can get from the sea) received a patent for a mechanical log in 1878, sometime before one was granted by the US patent office although that application was submitted in 1877.

Lindsay Lohan during blonde phase in Lanvin patent leather coat, New York City, May 2007.

“Patent leather” describes a hide which has been coated with a process using a substance which produces a high-gloss finish, so shiny as to be described as “like a polished, glazed ceramic”.  In fashion, the attraction of patent leather is that despite the brittle appearance, it retains all the flexible qualities and durability of leather while being almost waterproof (although intrusion can of course be possible at the seams).  Most associated with shoes, boots, handbags and coats, the original patent leather seems exclusively to have been produced in black but a wide range of colors have long been available so the material quickly became a favourite of designers.  In the late 1700s when patent leather first became commercially available in England, the lacquer coating was linseed oil-based but what revolutionized things and made mass-production more viable was the invention by metallurgist Alexander Parkes (1813–1890) of Parkesine, the first man-made “plastic”; it was one of his dozens of patented inventions, thus the name “patent leather”.  It was Parkesine which enabled the development of multi-colored patent leathers and because the product literally is “leather with a synthetic coating”, it’s one of the natural products most easily emulated (in appearance) by a plastic alternative although the imitations never possessed the same qualities.  Interestingly, many of the various processes used early in the nineteenth century to patent leather were never patented.

The former Court of Star Chamber (1836), drawing by unknown artist.

There were also “patent theatres”.  In England letters patent were for years a standard device in the administration of censorship, something that attracted increased interest from governments as soon as the printing presses began to operate at scale.  The printing press was one of the great creations of civilization but their availability appalled priest and politician alike because the last thing they wanted was “the common people” being given ideas (which they knew quickly would become heresy and sedition).  Under Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) proclamations against heretical and seditious publications soon appeared and in 1538 a statute was added declaring books must be licensed for printing by the Privy Council or other royal nominees.  What this did was create a flourishing black market for works produced by illegal presses and this battle between censorship and “underground” publications would for some 450 years characterize the way things were done in England.  One critical development came in 1557 when the Stationers' Company was granted a “charter of incorporation” which provided that only members of the company (or others holding a special patent) were allowed to print any work for sale in the kingdom.  In 1586, the ever imaginative Court of Star Chamber devised an ordinance which directed that no printing press might be set up in any place other than London (with the exception of one each for the university towns Oxford and Cambridge) and rigorously, the Star Chamber enforced this law with their usual zeal and although the court was in 1641 abolished by the Long Parliament, governments didn’t lose their fondness for censorship; under the Commonwealth restrictions were tightened with all “unofficial periodicals” (a move aimed at troublesome “newsletters, precursors to modern magazines and newspapers) banned and while the Rump Parliament of 1659 permitted “licensed newsbooks”, severely their issue was restricted.

During the Restoration period neither the government’s strategy or tactics much changed and material deemed libellous or offensive (values which cast a wide net) to the state or Church could see offenders fined, imprisoned pilloried or hanged (the last invoked if the offence was judged “high treason”).  By the eighteenth century things had somewhat been relaxed but Thomas Paine (1737-1809) was nevertheless compelled to flee to France when his book Rights of Man (1791) was declared “subversive” and a warrant issued for his arrest; even an article condemning the use of disciplinary flogging by the military could attract a fine of Stg£1,000 (then a small fortune) and two years in prison.  Being popular entertainment and accessible to even the illiterate, censorship of the theatre was important and the licensing of individual plays seems to have begun as early as the 1640s with an inspired piece of legislation in 1572 deeming all players (actors) “rogues and vagabonds” unless they belonged to (1) a baron of the realm, (2) somebody of higher rank or (3) were licensed by two justices.

Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, one of the original two "patent theatres".

Later, London’s theatrical companies worked under royal patents created by issue of the appropriate letters patent.  Curiously, governments, while much concerned with the preservation of political & ecclesiastical power, had rather neglected public morality but the Puritans were appalled by even the idea of the theatre.  Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) and his ilk thought the stage a place of immorality and in 1542 the Long Parliament prohibited all dramatic performances.  Inevitably, with theatres closed, an underground movement arose, the best documented of which were the Droll-Humours.  At or after the Restoration, letters patent were issued so companies could be formed and in 1662 these conferred on the recipients the exclusive right to present, in public, plays in public within the City of Westminster.  It proved a lucrative business and after the deaths of the original holders of the rights, lawyers began their squabble over to whom or what entity the letters patent should be conveyed; the disputes dragged on for some time before ultimately they were settled on the Covent Garden and Drury Lane theatres.  These enduring institutions thus came to be called the “patent theatres” and what the letters called “drama” was confined to the patent theatres.  However, nobody had bothered to define exactly what constituted “legitimate drama” and that remained a source of dispute among critics and lawyers, resolved only when the Theatres Act (1843) rendered the original letters patent inoperative.

Drawing of patent hammer, attached to Mr Richard’s application to the US Patent Office. the image is from the Trowel and Masonry Tool Collector Resource.

In stone-masonry, a “patent hammer” is a specialized hammer used by stonemasons for dressing stone, the head having two faces formed by a number (at least 2 but usually with 4, 6, 8, 10 or 12 “cuts” (blades) broad, thin chisels bolted side by side); the bolts could be loosened, allowing the blades to be removed to be re-sharpening or replaced.  The head of a patent hammer was heavy and the tool was used for finishing granite or the harder grades of sandstone and the choice of which to use was dictated by nature of the stone and the finish desired.  Historically, the most commonly used jaw opening was ⅞ inch but other graduations between ½ and one inch were widely produced and in the jargon of the trade, the number of cuts per nominal inch became the nominal description (eg an “8-cut finish”).  Essentially a time-saving device, use of a patent hammer allowed a stonemason to render a grooved surface more quickly and with more consistency than when using a single hand chisel.  The tools were in various places known also as the “patent bush hammer” “Scotia hammer” and “patent Scotia hammer” although, as a general principle, the Scotias usually were lighter and featured smaller jaw openings.  The tool gained its name from the patent granted in 1828 to Joseph Richards (1784-1848) of Braintree, Massachusetts and although the evidence suggests similar devices had for centuries been in use (presumably crated ad-hoc by stonemasons or tool-makers), this issue of the 1828 patent triggered an onrush of patent applications for stonemasonry tools and the US Patent Office (which classed them as “bush hammers” or “mill picks” to distinguish them from other hammers) soon had literally dozens of variants on the books.

In English law, letters patent and royal decrees (now more commonly styled as royal proclamations) are instruments with which the Crown exercises its prerogative powers, but they differ in form, purpose, and legal effect.  Letters patent are formal, written documents issued under the Great Seal, open for public inspection, declaring the monarch’s will in a matter of public record; they are addressed to all subjects, not to an individual or private recipient.  As an administrative device, letters patent are used to confirm rights, titles, offices, or privileges (including creating or conferring peerages or knighthoods) granting corporate charters (universities or city incorporations etc), issuing patents of invention or land grants and appointing public offices of state (governors, judges etc).  As legal devices, they operate as instruments of grant rather than command and unusually, take effect by virtue of being published, not by their delivery, registration or some form of gazetting.  Importantly, they can be subject to judicial challenge and voided if found to have been issued ultra vires (a legal maxim from the from Latin ultra vires (beyond the power) meaning (in this case) held to be beyond the monarch’s lawful prerogative) so although sounding something of an echo of the days of absolute power being exercised from the throne, they do operate within modern constitutional limits.

A royal proclamation is a command or declaration made by the monarch and issued over their signature but almost always drafted by the responsible ministers in government and published in the Gazette.  While a term like “royal proclamation” sounds like it might be used for commands like “off with their heads”, in modern use, typically, they’re invoked to announce or enforce policies, order, or regulations and that this is done under the royal prerogative is merely procedural.  So, while most are prosaic, (the regulation of this and that; announcing public holidays or public ceremonies etc), historically, royal proclamations have declared war and routinely still are the instrument summoning or dissolving parliament.  In the narrow technical sense the royal proclamation operates as an executive command rather than a grant but has a valid force of law only when issued under a lawful prerogative or statutory authority (since the Bill of Rights (1689), proclamations cannot create new offences or change existing law without the consent of both houses of parliament (as modified by the Parliament Acts (1911 & 1949)).

Mr Andrew Mountbatten Windsor (the former Prince Andrew, Duke of York) in the Garter robe he no longer dons (at least not when in public view).  Mr Mountbatten Windsor is the great grandson of King George V.

Because most are procedural, letters patent usually barely register in the public consciousness but, around the world, their use in late 2025 in the matter of Andrew Albert Christian Edward Mountbatten Windsor (b 1960) certainly made headlines.  Mr Mountbatten Windsor once was styled HRH (His Royal Highness) Prince Andrew, Duke of York, KG (Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter), GCVO (Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order) but the controversy about his alleged conduct with certain young women associated with the convicted child sex offender Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019) meant that between 2022 and 2025, almost all his many titles gradually were (in one way or another) put into abeyance before his brother Charles III (b 1948; King of the United Kingdom since 2022) issued the letters patent effectively removing all.

Until that point, the gradual nibbling away of Mr Mountbatten Windsor’s array of titles had been an example of inept crisis management with him in 2022 ceasing to be a “HRH” in a “public capacity” but remaining one in his “private capacity”.  That didn’t mean he could use it only in his bedroom but meant it couldn’t be used were he to appear at any “official public event”.  While one being able to call oneself “HRH” only in private (presumably among consenting adults) might sound a bit of a slap on the royal wrist, it is possession of styles and titles which determine one’s place in the “order of precedence”, something of great significance to those who move in certain circles because where one sits on the pecking order determines things like who has to bow or curtsy to whom and whether at events one gets to sit somewhere nice with the dukes & earls or is shunted off into a corner with the provincial mayors and eldest sons of knights.  As a weapon, the removal of the “HRH” has been used against the Duchess of Windsor (Wallis Simpson; 1896–1986), Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) and the Duchess of Sussex (Meghan Markle; b 1981).  Although Mr Mountbatten Windsor’s notorious television interview (approved by the palace courtiers against the advice of the media pros) seemed at the time the nadir of the crisis management of the “Andrew problem” (ranking with Boeing’s handing of the 737 Max’s “issues” and Intel’s attempt to “non-handle” the flaws in the original Pentium’s inbuilt math co-processor), the “drip feed” of the way his styles and titles gradually were eroded made things worse still.  As a footnote, the former Prince Andrew is now known as “Andrew Mountbatten Windsor” rather than “Andrew Windsor” because his father (Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (1921–2021)) was upset his sons wouldn’t bear his name so the “Mountbatten” was added.

Revelations about his alleged conduct continued to emerge and in mid October, 2025, it was announced that following discussions with the king, he would cease to make use of the styles of address to which he was entitled as a duke and twice a knight of the realm (both knighthoods being in orders of chivalry in the personal gift of the sovereign (his mother) with no involvement by government).  That didn’t mean he ceased to be a duke (with subsidiary peerages) or the possessor of two knighthoods in orders of chivalry, just that he would no longer “use them”.  That meant for all public purposes he would revert to what he was by virtue of his birth: plain old “Prince Andrew”.  Had the revelations stopped there, the “fix” might have worked but as fresh accusations continued to appear, not only was the press making trouble but there were suggestions “the Andrew problem” might be discussed on the floor of the House of Commons where members enjoy what’s called “parliamentary privilege” (the right to make even defamatory statements without risk of legal action).  What appeared to be of particular interest to some politicians was Mr Mountbatten Windsor remaining eighth in the line of succession to the British throne (and thus the monarchies of Australia, the Bahamas, Belize, Canada and such).

Accordingly, on 30 October 2025, the palace announced the king would be removing all his brother's styles, titles, and honours.  While technically this does not revoke the peerages, it does mean they are no longer “effective” and thus not affecting the vital order of precedence.  On 3 November, the king issued letters patent stripping Andrew of both the style “HRH” and title “prince”.  That the king can do this by the mere inking of a sheet of vellum is because (1) letters patent are a powerful tool and (2) in 1917 George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936) effectively codified the monarch’s authority in such matters; no involvement by parliament being required.  In 1917 the UK was at war with the German Empire so anti-German sentiment was about and as well as changing the royal family’s name from the obviously Teutonic Saxe-Coburg-Gotha to Windsor, the opportunity was taken for an “agonizing reappraisal” of the domestic structure.

Letters Patent issued by George V, 30 November 1917.  When mention was made to the "Great Seal of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland", the reference was literally to a big wax seal.

Thus, King George V issued letters patent restricting use of the titles “Prince” & “Princess” and the style “HRH” to certain close relatives of the monarch: (1) the children of the sovereign, (2) the male-line grandchildren of the sovereign (3) and the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales (ie the heir apparent’s eldest son).  Other descendants of the monarch would be styled as children of dukes (Lord or Lady).  In doing this George V wasn’t claiming or asserting a new royal prerogative (it had long been acknowledged) but his issue of the 1917 Letters Patent was the moment it was codified and assumed the force of a formal decree.  That’s why it’s misleading to say the UK doesn’t have a written constitution; it’s just all the bits and pieces don’t appear in one consolidated document al la the US, Australia or the old Soviet Union.  The words of the 1917 Letters Patent were:

“Whitehall, 30^th November, 1917.  The KING has been pleased by Letters Patent under the Great Seal of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, bearing date the 30th day of November, 1917, to declare that the children of any Sovereign of these Realms and the children of the sons of any such Sovereign and the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales shall have and at all times hold and enjoy the style, title or attribute of Royal Highness with their titular dignity of Prince or Princess prefixed to their respective Christian names or with their other titles of honour; and that the grandchildren of the sons of any such Sovereign in the direct male line (save only the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales) shall have and enjoy in all occasions the style and title enjoyed by the children of Dukes of these Our Realms.

And forasmuch as it has become expedient that the usage whereby the style, title or attribute of Royal Highness and of Prince or Princess shall be borne by other descendants of Our said Grandfather of blessed memory shall cease, We do hereby further declare that the said styles, titles or attributes shall not henceforth be borne by such descendants of Our said Grandfather save those above mentioned.”

Legally, “Our said Grandfather” actually referred to Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) and what the proclamation did was revoke the practice from Victoria’s time where almost all male-line descendants of the monarch were styled as princes or princesses.  Some countries still operate on the Victorian basis and a particular example is Saudi Arabia, a nation where, under their interpretation of the Sharia, kings and princes may enjoy more than the four wives which is the accepted limit in most Islamic nations which permit polygyny.  The royal scions have thus proliferated and if one moves in certain exulted circles, apart from the odd waiter or hairdresser, it can be possible to go through life and never meet a Saudi who is not a prince or princess.  In Saudi, for many reasons, it would be difficult to change the system but in Demark there recently was a cull of princes and princesses (the titles that is) with those who didn’t make the cut reverting to being count and countess of this and that.  For almost a century the 1917 Letters Patent remained the convention followed but  on 31 December 2012, Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) issued letters patent extending both HRH and Prince or Princess status to all the children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales:

“Whitehall, 31^st December, 2012.  The QUEEN has been pleased by Letters Patent under the Great Seal of the Realm dated the 31st day of December 2012 to declare that all the children of the eldest son of The Prince of Wales should have and enjoy the style, title and attribute of Royal Highness with the titular dignity of Prince or Princess prefixed to their Christian names or with such other titles of honour.”

What that achieved was a bit of “title creep”.  Under the George V rule, only the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales would have been styled a prince; younger siblings would not have been princes or princesses but rather Lord or Lady Mountbatten-Windsor.  What Elizabeth II’s 2012 Letters Patent did was equalize things so all the children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales would be both HRH and princes or princesses; it’s a thoughtful great-grandmother who thinks of a way to avoid sibling rivalry.  There have since been no further general amendments to the 1917 convention although the royal prerogative has been used to grant or remove titles individually, such the letters patent issued granting the titles prince & princess to the Duke of Sussex’s children.

Windsor Castle, September, 2025.

The UK government's state banquet in honor of the visiting Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025), hosted in Windsor Castle in September 2025.  Where one sits on the UK's order of precedence will influence (1) whether one is invited and (2) whether one gets a "good" seat.  Among US presidents, Mr Trump's second state visit was unprecedented.

So, titles and styles are quite a thing in royal families because they operate as a pecking order atop a pecking order.  Despite the frequency with which the claim is made, the British royal family is not wholly averse to change and one change they would be welcome would be things going back to how they were done decades or centuries ago: In 1938, George VI (1895–1952; King of the United Kingdom 1936-1952), being driven through Surry in the company of a US journalist, gestured through the window towards Runnymede, telling his companion: “That’s where the troubles started”.  For the institution of the monarchy, there have since 1215 been many troubles, some quite serious but apart for a brief, aberrant, republican interlude, one royal household or another has remained in place, challenges dealt with as they’ve arisen.  For the royal family, the matter of “the Andrew problem” is not so much what he’s alleged to have done (which could have been handled with the odd wry smile and otherwise never spoken of) but the ghastliness of it becoming public knowledge among “the common people”.  The attraction of “fixing things” by the use of letters patent is it’s quick and (it’s hoped) will mean “the Andrew problem” doesn’t end up being discussed in the House of Commons.  That would be bad enough but once such things start they can get out of hand and if one matter about the royal family is being discussed in parliament, there’s no guarantee it wouldn’t lead to other aspects being questioned.  There are many things about the royal family and their place in the UK’s constitutional apparatus which they’d prefer not be discussed and certainly not in the House of Commons.  As a tactic, the letters patent may well keep the commoners in the Commons at bay but Mr Mountbatten Windsor’s life may yet get worse because various institutions in the US are interested in questioning him in relation to alleged offences committed on US soil and an extradition request is not impossible.