Dreadnought

Dreadnought (pronounced dred-nawt)

(1) A type of battleship armed with heavy-calibre guns in turrets: so called from the British battleship HMS Dreadnought (1906); a name used by the Royal Navy for many ships and submarines.

(2) A garment made of thick woolen cloth that can defend against storm and cold.

(3) A thick cloth with a long pile (known also as fearnought).

(4) Slang a heavyweight boxer in the heavyweight class.

(5) By extension, something the largest or heaviest in a given field.

(6) A person who fears nothing; something that assures against fear.

(7) A type of acoustic guitar with a very large body and a waist less pronounced than in other designs, producing a deep, "bold" sound.

1800-1810: The construct was dread + nought.  Dread was from the Middle English dreden, from Old English drǣdan (to fear, dread), aphetic form of ondrǣdan (to fear, dread), from and- +‎ rǣdan (from which English picked up read); corresponding to an aphesis of the earlier adread.  The Old Saxon was antdrādan & andrādan (to fear, dread), the Old High German was intrātan (to fear) and the Middle High German entrāten (to fear, dread, frighten).  Nought was from the Middle English nought & noght, (noȝt), from the Old English nōwiht & nāwiht (the construct being nay +‎ a +‎ wight), which in turn came from ne-ā-wiht, a phrase used as an emphatic "no", in the sense of "not a thing".  In the transition to Modern English, the word reduced gradually to nought, nawt and finally not; a doublet of naught.  The alternative spelling (though never used by the Admiralty) is Dreadnaught.  Dreadnought is a noun; the noun plural is dreadnoughts.

The dreadnoughts

HMS Dreadnought, 1906.

Launched in 1906, HMS Dreadnought is often said to have revolutionized naval power, the design so significant it proved the final evolution of what had, by the late nineteenth century, evolved into the battleship.  Subsequent vessels would be larger, faster, increasingly electronic and more heavily armed but the concept remained the same.  HMS Dreadnought rendered instantly obsolete every other battleship in the world (including the rest of the Royal Navy) and all other battleships then afloat were immediately re-classified as pre-dreadnoughts.  In naval architecture, so epoch-making was the ship that it changed the nomenclature in navies world-wide: after 1906 there would be pre-dreadnoughts, semi-dreadnoughts, demi-dreadnoughts & super-dreadnoughts (hyphenated and not),  The adjective dreadnoughtish was non-standard but was used to describe ships of a design beyond that of the orthodox battleship of the late nineteenth century but with only some of a dreadnought's distinguishing characteristics.  Presumably someone in the Admiralty would have coined dreadnoughtesque but no document seems to have survived as proof.    

HMS Dreadnought.

Her main design features were speed, armor, steam turbine propulsion and, especially, firepower almost exclusively of weapons of the largest caliber.  In the decades after her launch, British, German, American, Japanese and other navies would build larger and heavier dreadnoughts until, during world war two, their utility was finally seen to been eclipsed by both aircraft carriers and submarines.  The last dreadnought, HMS Vanguard, launched in 1946, was scrapped in 1958 but the US Navy maintained until 2004 (on either the active or reserve list), at least one of the four battleships it retained from World War II (1939-1945) when the last was decommissioned.

HMS Dreadnought, 1908.

That it was the Royal Navy which first launched a dreadnought doesn’t mean the British Admiralty was alone in pursuing the concept.  Naval strategists in several nations had noted the course of battle between the Russian and Japanese fleets in 1905 and concluded the immediate future of naval warfare lay in the maximum possible deployment of big guns, able to launch attacks from the longest possible range, subsidiary smaller caliber weapons seen even as a disadvantage in battle.  That the Royal Navy was the first with such a ship afloat was a testament to the efficiency of British designers and shipbuilders, not the uniqueness of its plans.

Much read in palaces, chancelleries and admiralties around the word was a book released in 1890 called The Influence of Sea Power Upon History, 1660–1783 by US naval officer and theorist Captain Alfred Mahan (1840-1914).  Published in what, in retrospect, was a historical sweet-spot (technologically and politically) for the views it espoused, it brought Mahan great fame and exerted an extraordinary influence on diplomacy, military planning and the politics of the era.  The book was not alone the cause of the naval arms-race in the decade before World War I (1914-1918) but was at least a sharp nudge, push or shove depending on one’s view.  Curiously though, although a work primarily about naval strategy, while many of the maritime powers seemed convinced by Mahan’s arguments about the importance of naval sea power in geopolitics, not all admiralties adopted the strategic template.  What all agreed however was they needed more ships.

The nineteenth century of Pax Britannica ("British Peace", echoing the Pax Romana of the Roman Empire), describes the century of relative great-power stability between the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) and the outbreak of war in 1914 encompasses the idea of British Empire as the global hegemon, a role possible only because the Royal Navy enjoyed an unchallenged ability to patrol and protect the key maritime trade routes.  The effective control of these transport corridors not only guaranteed the security of the British Empire but it meant also the British effectively controlled maritime access to much of Asia, the Americas, Oceania the south Pacific, although, one factor in the success was it was that London ran things essentially in accordance with US foreign policy, assisting Washington in enforcing the Monroe Doctrine which upheld the US preponderance of interest in the Americas.  It can be argued the roots of the so-called "special relationship" took hold here.

The British Empire, in terms of the impression created by a map of the world on which its colonies and dependencies were colored usually in some shade of red, was deceptive, the remit of the local administrators sometimes extending little beyond the costal enclaves, even the transport links between towns not always entirely secure.  Never did the Empire posses the military resources to defend such vast, remote and disparate territories but it was the control of the sea, uniquely in history, which allowed the British for centuries to maintain what was, with no disparagement intended, a confidence trick.  The reason the empire could be maintained was not because of control of big colonies, it was all the little islands dotted around the oceans which enabled the navy to operate outposts which housed the ports and coaling stations from which ships could make repairs or provision with fuel, food and water.  All those little dots on the map were the "keys to the world".  Mahan’s book had drawn its influential conclusions from his study of the role of sea power during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; what the British did was take advantage of the circumstances of the nineteenth century and deploy their sea power globally, in competition when necessary, in cooperation when possible and in conflict when required.  The practical expression of all this was British naval policy: that the Royal Navy must be of sufficient strength simultaneously to prevail in war against the combined strength of the next two biggest navies, either in separate theatres or as a massed fleet.

By the early twentieth century, economic and geopolitical forces combined to render the policy impossible to maintain, Britain no longer able to operate in “splendid isolation” (another somewhat misleading phrase of the era), needing alliances to spread the load of imperial defense.  It wasn’t just the rapid growth of the German fleet which had changed the balance of power but that alone was enough for the British and the French to reach an accommodation which is remembered as the Entente Cordiale (Cordial Agreement) of 1904 which may or may not have been an alliance but was enough of one for the admiralties in Paris and London cooperatively to organize the allocations of their fleets.  It certainly illustrated Lord Palmerston's (1784–1865) doctrine that the country had neither eternal allies nor perpetual enemies but only permanent interests for despite the centuries of enmity between Britain and France, the self-interest of both dictated the need to align against the German threat.

Royal Navy battlecruiser HMS New Zealand, 1911.

It was in this atmosphere the great naval arms race took place, plans for which were laid before the Wright brothers had flown a hundred–odd feet, barely off the ground, torpedoes were in their infancy and submarines were little threat more than a few miles from the coast.  The measure of a fleet was its battleships and their big guns and whichever side could put to sea the most firepower was winning the race.  It intrigued the navalists, strategists and theorists who knew from history that such a race, if left to run, could end only in war, the great, decisive set-piece battle of which would be the clash of massed fleets of battleships on the high seas, trading shell-fire at a range of twenty miles (32 km), before closing for the kill as the battle climaxed.  Dreadnought was one strand of the theorists’ imagination but there were others.  There was a school of thought which favored an emphasis on radio communications and a greater attention to the possibilities offered by the torpedo and, most influentially, what seems now the curious notion of a complimentary range of faster capital ships, essentially battleships with the big guns but little armor, the loss of protection off-set by the few knots in speed gained; these ships were called battlecruisers.  The argument was they could fight at such range nothing but a battleship would be a threat and those the battlecruiser could outrun because of their greater speed.  It seemed, to many, a good idea at the time.

Super-Dreadnought: HMS Iron Duke, Port Said, 1921.

But it was the Dreadnoughts which captured the imagination and defined the era.  Impressive though she was, HMS Dreadnought was not long unique as navies around the world launched the own and, as happens in arms races, the original was quickly out-classed and the next generation of ships, bigger and more heavily gunned still, came to be known as super dreadnoughts.  War did come but the grand battle on the high seas which the navalists had, for a quarter century been planning, never happened.  There were smaller clashes of squadrons but the imperative of the Royal Navy was more practical and traditionally British: avoid defeat.  As Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955), then First Lord of the Admiralty (minister for the navy), emphasized to the First Sea Lord (the navy’s senior admiral), against a continental empire like Germany, while the Royal Navy couldn’t in a year win the war, because Britain’s empire was maritime, they could lose it in one afternoon.  Accordingly, the Royal Navy made no sustained attempts to induce a massed battle, focusing instead on a blockade, keeping the German fleet confined to its ports.  It was the German admirals who attempted to force the British to a set-piece battle, venturing into the North Sea in May 1916 with a fleet of nearly a hundred, including sixteen dreadnoughts and five battlecruisers.  Against this, the British assembled a hundred and fifty odd with twenty-eight dreadnoughts and nine battlecruisers.  The action came to be known as the Battle of Jutland.

Imperial German Navy battlecruiser SMS Goeben, 1914.

On paper, although the result described as inconclusive, it was a tactical success for the Germans but strategically, the British achieved their goal.  The dreadnoughts barely engaged, most of the action confined to the battlecruisers and, unlike the smaller Battle of Tsushima (May 1905) in the Far East, fought by pre-dreadnoughts a decade earlier between the Japanese and Russian fleets, there was no winner in the traditional sense of naval warfare.  The German's tactical success in retrospect was something of a Dunkirk moment but the strategic implications were profound.  British losses were heavier but their numeric advantage was such they could absorb the loss and had the financial and industrial capacity to restore the fleet’s strength.  Damage to the German fleet was less but they lacked the time or capacity to build their navy to the point it could be used as a strategic weapon and it remained confined to its ports.  Both sides learned well the inherent limitations of the battlecruiser.

WWI era German U-Boot (Unterseeboot (under-sea-boat)), anglicized as U-Boat.

After Jutland, the German admirals concluded that to venture again against the British Home Fleet would either be an inconclusive waste or lead to the inevitable, decisive defeat.  They accordingly prevailed on the politicians and eventually gained approval to use the only genuinely effective weapon in their hands, the submarine.  It was the consequences of unrestricted submarine warfare which would bring the United States into the war in 1917 as a belligerent and without that intervention, the war would certainly have followed a different course and reached perhaps a different conclusion.

Although HMS Dreadnought lent her name to an era and remains one of the most significant warships built, she's remembered for the geopolitical reverberations in the wake of her launching rather than any achievement at sea, missing even the anti-climatic Battle of Jutland (1916) because of a scheduled re-fit.  Indeed, her only achievement of note in combat was the ramming and sinking of German U-Boat SM U-29 on 18 March 1915 although that does remain a unique footnote in naval history, being the only time a battleship deliberately sank an enemy submarine.  Dreadnought was decommissioned in 1920 and scrapped the next year.  Later, under the terms of the 1922 Washington Naval Treaty which sought to prevent another naval arms race, most of the surviving dreadnoughts were scrapped or scuttled but many of the super-dreadnoughts remained in the fleets, some not scrapped until after World War II.  The name has a strong resonance in the halls of the Admiralty (now the Navy Command in the UK's Ministry of Defense) and has been chosen for the class of vessels to replace the existing Vanguard class ballistic nuclear-missile submarines.  Now under construction, the first of the nuclear-powered Dreadnought class boats is expected to enter service early in the 2030s.

Dreadnought coats

The term “dreadnought coat” was adopted by the UK’s garment industry in 1908 to refer to a heavy, durable and water-resistant overcoat.  It was an opportunistic “borrowing” that verged on what would now be called “ambush marketing” and took advantage on the extensive publicity the name attracted during the so-called “naval scare” during that decade, the attraction being the arms-race had done the hard word of “brand-name recognition”.  The reference point of the design was the heavy “pea coat” (the construct being the Dutch pij (cowl) + the English coat) issued to Royal Navy sailors (although similar garments were worn in many navies).  Typically, naval pea coats were made from a thick wool yarn, designed to protect against the harsh maritime weather encountered in coastal environments as well as on the high-seas.  Pea coats were of rugged construction, almost always double-breasted and featured large lapels (for extra warmth around the neck, often turned up in cold weather) and deep pockets.

A dreadnought pea coat by Triple Aught ("Dreadnaught Peacoat" the spelling used) (left), Lindsay Lohan in dreadnought coat (London, June, 2014, centre) and in trench coat (London, October 2015, right).

To facilitate ease of movement and avoid becoming entangled in the ropes and chains which are a feature of a ship’ deck, the classic naval pea coat was hip-length, unlike the ankle-length great coats used by armies.  When the double-breasted design was extended to the civilian market, the pea coat was almost unchanged (although many were of lighter construction and navy blue remained the most popular color.  When the style of a pea coat is extended to something calf or ankle-length, it becomes a “dreadnought coat” which should not be confused with a “trench coat” which is of lighter construction, traditionally beige and belted and, as all fashionistas know, the belt is always tied, never buckled.

Aesthetic

Aesthetic (pronounced es-thet-ik or ees-thet-ik (mostly non-US))

(1) Relating to the philosophy of aesthetics; concerned with what is regarded as attractive and what is not.

(2) Relating to the science of aesthetics; concerned with the study of the mind and emotions in relation to the sense of beauty.

(3) Having a sense of the beautiful; characterized by a love of beauty (and, used loosely: “good taste”).

(4) Relating to, involving, or concerned with pure emotion and sensation as opposed to pure intellectuality.

(5) The philosophical theory or set of principles governing the idea of beauty at a given time and place.

(6) A particular individual’s set of ideas about style and taste, along with its expression:

(7) An individual’s (or a collective’s) set of principles or worldview as expressed through outward appearance, behavior, or actions.

1798: From the mid-eighteenth century German Ästhetisch or the German-derived French esthétique, from the New Latin, ultimately from the Ancient Greek aisthetikos (pertaining to sense perception, perceptible, sensitive perceptive and (of things) perceptible), the construct being aisthēt(ḗs) (aesthete) + -ikos (-ic), from aisthanesthai (to perceive (by the senses or by the mind), to feel, from the primitive Indo-European awis-dh-yo-, from the root au- (to perceive).  The ikos suffix was from κός (kós) with an added i, from i-stems such as φυσι-κός (phusi-kós) (natural), through the same process by which ῑ́της (ī́tēs) developed from της (tēs), occurring in some original case and later used freely.  It was cognate with the Latin icus and the Proto-Germanic igaz, from which came Old English iġ (which in Modern English ultimately was resolved as y), the Old High German ig and the Gothic eigs.  The historic alternative spelling is æsthetics, still see in the odd literary novel.  Derived forms include the adjectives nonaesthetic (which if hyphenated seems to be used as a neutral descriptive and if not, as a critique) & pseudoaesthetic (which is always in criticism).  Aesthetic is a noun & adjective, aesthete & aestheticism are nouns and aesthetically is an adverb; the noun plural is aesthetics.

The noun aesthete (person of advanced and fine artistic sensibilities) dates from the early 1880s and was from Ancient Greek αἰσθητής (aisthētḗs) (one who perceives), the construct being aisthē- (variant stem of aisthánesthai (to perceive)) + -tēs (the Greek noun suffix denoting agent).  It was a Victorian back-formation from aesthetics and there no exact synonym, the closet being “connoisseur” but it conveys a slightly different implication and the derived noun hyperaesthete is used sometimes as a term of derision directed at the “excessively civilized”.  The rarely used alternative spellings esthete & æsthete are now used only as literary devices and are otherwise obsolete.  Aesthete is a noun and aesthetic is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is aesthetes and the idea long predates the word, descriptions of such figures appearing (sometimes as slurs hinting at a lack of manliness) in texts from Antiquity and aesthetician (professor of taste) was in use by 1829, aestheticist by 1868.  The original edition (1911) of the Concise Oxford English Dictionary (COD) noted that in English university slang the opposite of an aesthete was a “hearty”, the former tribe devotes of John Ruskin (1819–1900), the latter lot lusting after a rugby blue.

Ms Andrea Ivanova who is pursuing (from head to toe) a particular aesthetic.

For specific purposes, estheticians can induce localized instances of angioedema (in pathology, a swelling that occurs just beneath the surface of the skin or mucous membranes).  Ms Andrea Ivanova (b 1998), a student from the Bulgarian capital Sofia, has had over twenty injections of hyaluronic acid in her quest to have the world’s plumpest lips but, seeking additional fullness, indicated recently she intends to pursue another course of injections.  Ms Ivanova is also a collector of Barbie dolls, the aesthetic of which she admires, and these are said to provide the inspiration for some of the other body modifications and adjustments she's undertaken.  Like the lips, other bits remain a work-in-progress, Ms Ivanova documenting things on Instagram where she enjoys some 32K followers.

The alternative spelling esthetic began life as one of those Americanisms which annoy some but it reflected simply the wholly sensible approach in US English that it’s helpful if spelling follows pronunciation.  However, in the early twentieth century the US cosmetic surgery industry (even then inventive and profitable), re-purposed the word; linguistic differentiation to create product differentiation: “esthetic surgery”, the business of performing surgery for aesthetic purposes rather than reasons strictly medical or reconstructive and the most significant figure in this was the German-Jewish cosmetic physician Jacques Joseph (1865–1934), now remembered as the “father of modern cosmetic surgery”.  Under the auspices of first the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS, 1931) and the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery (ASAPS, 1967), the business of esthetic surgery has since boomed and related (even if remotely) professions such as nail technicians, the lip-plumpers and the body-piercers also append “esthetic” to their advertising; the first “estheticians” were the skin care specialists (exfoliation, massage, aromatherapy, facials and such) but the title soon proliferated.  

A classic reference which can be read for pleasure (by word nerds).

JA Cuddon (1928-1996) was a writer of extraordinary range and one of the great characters of twentieth century literary life in England and while some of his works sold more, none have been of more enduring than his typically comprehensive and amusing Dictionary of Literary Terms & Literary Theory, first published in 1977 by Penguin and the entry on aestheticism is typical of his style, beginning with the observation the term was “'pregnant' with many connotations” before exploring the history.  In English, “aesthetic” first came into wider use after appearing in translations of the work of the German philosopher of the Enlightenment Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) although the original use was in the classically correct sense “science which treats of the conditions of sensuous perception” and Kant’s use had been an attempt at reclamation on behalf of academic philosophy in reaction to his fellow German philosopher Alexander Baumgarten (1714–1762) heretically using it in his Aesthetica (1750) to mean “criticism of taste”, something which so appealed to English speakers it became (despite the doughty scholarly rearguard) after the 1830s (in the wake of the Romantic poets) the dominant meaning, freeing the word from the jealous grasp of the philosophers.  This was cemented by the literary critic Walter Pater (1839–1894 and one of the century’s most exquisite stylists of language) who in 1868 applied it to the l'art pour l'art (art for art's sake) movement, a place which proved its natural home.  The English academic polymath William Whewell (1794–1866) had suggested callesthetics for “the science of the perception of the beautiful” but that never caught on.  The shift is illustrated by the track of the adjective which was in 1798 was recorded to mean “of or pertaining to sensual perception” while by 1821 there was the parallel “of or pertaining to appreciation of the beautiful.”

Cuddon defined an aesthete as “one who pursues and is devoted to the 'beautiful' in art, music and literature” while aestheticisrn was the “term given to a movement, a cult, a mode of sensibility (a way of looking at and feeling about things) in the nineteenth century [which] fundamentally… entailed the point of view that art is self-sufficient and need fulfil no other purpose than its own ends. In other words, art is an end in itself and need not be (or should not be) didactic, politically committed, propagandist, moral - or anything else but itself; and it should not be judged by any non-aesthetic criteria such as whether or not it is useful).”  Cuddon reminded his readers that Kant as well as Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832), Friedrich Schelling (1775–1854) & Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805) were all in the vanguard of the l'art pour l'art “movement or cult”, arguing “art must be autonomous”, the political implication being “the artist should not be beholden to anyone.  From this, in turn, it followed that the artist was someone special, apart, from others and from this came the post-Romantic idea of the artist as superior to ordinary mortals”, a view which infected many who concluded they deserved to be judged on the basis of being artists, rather than by virtue of the art they produced.  In the dark mist of late Romanticism, this had a certain appeal but it cumulated in post-modernism and while it’s true that even in the nineteenth century high art there really wasn’t one agreed construct of the aesthetic, by the late twentieth century there were so many that Cuddon was probably right in suggesting it was the “long-term result of Romantic subjectivism and self-culture; of the cult of the individual ego and sensibility.”

Cuddon detected “a widespread disenchantment in the literature of the aesthetes, and especially in their poetry” which he contrasted with the popular novelists of the era such as early realists like Charles Dickens (1812–1870) or Émile Zola (1840–1902).  The poets showed a “tendency to withdrawal or aversion”, aspiring to “sensuousness and to what has become known as ‘pure poetry'” and while that was criticized by figures as diverse as Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881, UK prime-minister 1868 & 1874-1880) and Karl Marx (1818-1883), at “its best, aestheticism was a revitalizing influence in an age of ugliness, brutality dreadful inequality & oppression, complacency, hypocrisy and Philistinism.  It was a genuine search for beauty and a realization that the beautiful has an independent value.  At its worst it deteriorated into posturing affectation and mannerism, to vapid idealism and indeed to a kind of silliness which is not wholly dead.”  Cuddon was writing in the mid-1970s and it’s doubtful anything he saw in the last decades of his life much changed his mind.

Deconstructing the Lindsay Lohan aesthetic

PinkMirror is a web app which helps users optimize their facial aesthetics, using an artificial intelligence (AI) engine to deconstruct the individual components an observer’s brain interprets as a whole.  Because a face is for these purposes a collection of dimensions & curves with certain critical angles determined by describing an arc between two points, it means things can be reduced to metrics, and the interaction of these numbers can used to create a measure of attractiveness.  Pinkmirror cites academic research which confirms a positive canthal tilt is a “power cue” for female facial attractiveness and while it’s speculative, a possible explanation for this offered by the researchers was linked to (1) palpebral (of, pertaining to, or located on or near the eyelids.) fissure inclination being steeper in children than adults (classifying it thus a neonatal feature) and (2) it developing into something steeper still in females than males after puberty (thus becoming a sexually dimorphic feature).  Pinkmirror notes also that natural selection seems to be operating to support the idea, data from Johns Hopkins Hospital finding that in women, the intercanthal axis averages +4.1 mm (.16 of an inch) or +4^o, the supposition being that women with the advantage of a positive medial canthus tilt are found more attractive so attract more mates, leading to a higher degree of procreation, this fecundity meaning the genetic trait producing the characteristic feature is more frequently seen in the population.  Cosmetic surgeons add another layer to the understanding, explaining the canthal tilt is one of the marker’s of aging, a positive tilt exuding youth, health, and exuberance where as a line tending beyond the negative is associated with aging, this actually literally product of natural processes, the soft tissue gradually descending under the effect of gravity, as aspect of Vogue magazine’s definition of the aging process: “Everything gets bigger, hairier & lower”.

The Pinkmirror app exists to quantify one’s degree of attractiveness.  It’s wholly based on specific dimension and thus as piece of math, is not influenced by skin tone although presumably, its parameters are defined by the (white) western model of what constitutes attractiveness.  Users should therefore work within those limitations but the model would be adaptable, presumably not to the point of being truly cross-cultural but specifics forks could certainly be created to suit any dimensional differences between ethnicities.  Using an industry standard known as the Photographic Canthal Index (PCI), one’s place on Pinkmirror’s index of attractiveness is determined by the interplay of (1) Nose width, (2) Bi-temporal to bi-zygomatic ratio, (3) chin length, (4) chin angle, (5) lower-lip height & (6) eye height.

Lindsay Lohan scored an 8.5 (out of 10), was rated as “beautiful” and found to be “very feminine, with great features of sexual dimorphism”, scoring highly in all facets except lower lip height and eye height.  Her face shape is the heart, distinguished by a broad forehead and cheekbones, narrowing in the lines of down to the jaw-line, culminating in a cute pointy chin.  Pinkmirror say the most attractive face shape for women has been found to be the triangle, scoring about the same as the oval while the heart, round, diamond, rectangle and square are also attractive to a lesser degree.  Within the app, pears and oblongs are described as “not typically seen as attractive” and while the word “ugly” isn’t used, for the unfortunate pears and oblongs, that would seem the implication.

Other aesthethetics

A functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) machine.

The mysterious “experimental aesthetics” is a discipline in psychology taking “a subject-based, inductive approach to aesthetics”; it was founded by German physicist and experimental psychologist Gustav Fechner (1801–1887) who had a background in psychophysics before changing direction so experimental aesthetics is the second oldest research area in psychology.  It is a field of study which investigates how individuals perceive and evaluate aesthetic experiences using empirical methods, merging principles and techniques from psychology, neuroscience and the arts to understand the underlying mechanisms of aesthetic appreciation and creativity.  Essentially, it was the examination of the way people perceive beauty, art and design, and how they form aesthetic judgments, the resulting metrics gleaned from measuring sensory processes, cognitive mechanisms and emotional responses.  Given these things are inherently hard to quantify in a way which is both statistically sound and has some meaning, what Fechner was attempting was really quite adventurous and those who have continued his work have produced something sprawlingly interdisciplinary, involving collaborations between psychologists, neuroscientists, artists, designers, and philosophers, all with their own traditions of measurement. From this interplay emerged the sub-field of neuroaesthetics which focuses on the neural basis of aesthetic experiences, something made possible by the development of various brain imaging techniques like Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) and the electroencephalogram (EEG).  Being academics who publish, experimental aesthetics has also yielded theoretical models, the most pleasing of which is the “processing fluency theory of aesthetic pleasure” which explores what contributes to the ease with which information is processed in the human mind, a significant factor in the way people experience beauty.

In the same vein as ethnomusicology (the study of non-Western musical forms), ethnoaesthetics is the study or description of “the aesthetics specific to or adopted by a particular culture”.  Perhaps surprisingly, both continue to be used although some might consider them at least microaggressions which can be read as implying a cultural hierarchy and even if not, it certainly suggests “separate but equal”, a concept with its own troubled history.  Phonoaesthetics is the study of the aesthetic properties of sounds, particularly in the context of language. The phono- prefix (relating to sound) was from the Ancient Greek φωνή (phōnḗ) (voice, sound).  The word φωνή primarily referred to articulated human or animal sounds in contrast to ἠχή (from which is derived “echo”) which referred to sounds in general.  Phonoaesthetics involves the analysis of how certain sounds, words, or phonetic patterns are perceived as pleasing or displeasing to the ear, the field combining elements of linguistics, psychology, and aesthetics to explore the sensory and emotional responses elicited by different sounds.  If ever you’ve wondered why a word like “succulent” is so “delicious” to say, phonoaesthetics has the answer.  The inherent beauty or appeal of sounds exists both in isolation and within linguistic structures, most obviously in the phonemes, syllables & prosody but there are also associative factors; a word with a positive association can impart pleasure and that experience can exist across a culture or be specific to one individual.  Somaesthetics is an interdisciplinary field that studies the body (soma, from the New Latin, from the Ancient Greek σῶμα (sôma) (body) as both a site of sensory appreciation (aesthesis) and creative self-fashioning.  Not taken seriously by all critics, it’s seems essentially the “New Age” with an academic gloss.

Mothball

Mothball (pronounced moth-ball or mawth-bawl (US))

(1) A small ball of naphthalene or sometimes of camphor for placing in closets or other storage areas to repel moths from clothing, blankets, etc.

(2) To put into storage or reserve; inactivate.

(3) Inactive; unused; stored away.

(4) A form of drug abuse where users inhale or ingest mothballs.  Users may hallucinate, feel a distorted sense of time and space, or experience rapidly changing emotions.  Side-effects include nausea, vomiting, slurred speech, headache, coordination loss, wheezing, and rashes.

1891: A compound word, (used also as also moth-ball & moth ball) used to describe the naphthalene ball stored among fabrics to keep off moths, the construct being moth + ball.  Moth (nocturnal lepidopterous insect) was from the Middle English motthe, from the Old English moþþe & moððe (mohðe in dialectical Northumbrian) and was a common Germanic word.  Related were the Old Norse motti, the Middle Dutch motte, the Dutch mot, & the German Motte (moth).  It may have been related to the Old English maða (maggot) or from the root of midge.  Until the sixteenth century, the word was used mostly to refer to the larva and usually in reference to devouring woollen fabrics, hence the translation (King James Version 1611) of Matthew 6:20 as “But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.”  Words for the adult moth in the Middle English included the mid-fourteenth century flindre which was cognate with the Dutch vlinder (butterfly).  As a literal description, the phrase "moth-eaten” was attested from the late fourteenth century, the figurative sense noted a few years later.  The related forms in the Romance languages are borrowings from the Germanic.  Ball was from the Middle English bal, ball & balle, from the Old English beall, beal & bealla (“round object, compact spherical body" and also "the spherical or similar object used in a game" dating from circa 1200) or the Old Norse bǫllr (a ball), evidenced by the diminutive bealluc (testicle), all from the Proto-Germanic balluz & ballô (ball), from the primitive Indo-European bholn- (bubble), from bhel (to blow, inflate, swell).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon ball, the Flemish bal, the Dutch bal, the Old High German bal & ballo, the German Ball (ball) & Ballen (bale). 

When used as a simple noun, mothballs are usually referred in the plural, that’s how they’re purchased and used.  A mothball is a small ball of chemical pesticide (typically naphthalene) and deodorant placed in or around clothing and other articles susceptible to damage from mold or moth larvae in order to protect them from this damage, the process being process is “mothballing” or to “mothball”.  In the pre-synthetic fibre era they were more widely used and the advent of modern chemical sprays has seen use diminish further.

Their cheapness and toxicity has seen them used also to repel snakes, squirrels, bats and other rodents, despite many jurisdictions making the use unlawful and a number of studies documenting the health risks to humans and other wildlife.  They’re also often suggests as a way for gardeners to eradicate snails but evidence of efficacy is only anecdotal although it does appear the use may cause at least illness in domestic pets.  As a verb, "mothball" is used metaphorically to mean "to stop work on an idea, plan, or job, but leaving things in such a state that work can later resume.

Mothballing

Mothballed WWII US Navy destroyers, 1947.

When the military, typically after longer conflicts, have too much capital equipment (tanks, ships, aircraft etc) but are, for a variety of reasons, unwilling to re-allocate, sell or consign the surplus to scrap, the storage process is called mothballing.  With airframes or land-vehicles, this involves hermetically sealing the structure and storing them in remote places with low humidity and rainfall (such as the Arizona desert).  For an admiralty, surface and underwater vessels are more of a challenge given they’re usually moored in salt-water.

The Imperial German Navy's High Seas Fleet, interned at Scapa Flow, 28 November 1918.

Mothballed ships made in the pre-atomic age (pre 1945) are also used to provide low-background steel for use in nuclear medicine experimental physics which demands shielding material which is extremely weakly radioactive (emitting less than present-day background radiation).  Steel manufactured after the first atmospheric nuclear explosions reflect the higher ambient level of radioactivity that fallout has caused.  Some of the capital ships of the Imperial German Navy’s High Seas fleet, scuttled in 1919, were an important source of such steel although, with atmospheric nuclear testing no longer undertaken, background radiation has decreased to near natural levels, so the need for low-background steel in medical machines now not usually needed.  However, for the equipment used in experimental physics where the most extreme sensitivity is required, the pre-1945 steel is still used.

AMARG, March 2015.

The 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group (309th AMARG or, in military slang, “the Boneyard”) is a United States Air Force (USAF) aircraft and missile storage and maintenance facility in Tucson, Arizona, part of the Davis–Monthan Air Force Base.  For decades, AMARG, the largest facility of its type on the planet, has stored thousand of airframes in various states of repair, it’ location advantageous because of a low-humidity climate which minimises rust and corrosion and ground that is geologically stable and sufficiently hard so even the heaviest aircraft don’t sink into the soil.

Mothballed Boeing B-52s at AMARG, 1991.

In the 1990s, under the terms of the START I treaty, (Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty; a 1991 bilateral treaty between the US & USSR and successor to SALT I & II (Strategic Arms Limitation Talks 1972 & 1979)), 365 of the USAF’s mothballed B-52 Stratofortress bombers stored at the Arizona boneyard were literally chopped into pieces, initially with a 13,000 (4850 kg) pound guillotine supported on a mobile crane.  The big blade was effective but brutish and the team soon switched to Husqvarna diamond-tipped fire-rescue  saws, the added precision less destructive on the surrounding equipment which afforded AMARC the opportunity to cannibalise the airframes for salvageable parts.

Wreckage of disabled B-52s of the US Air Force's (USAF) former Strategic Air Command (SAC) left in situ to permit satellite observation for purpose of verification by Russian Federation (successor-state to the USSR), 1994.

After the destruction was done, the wreckage was left in place for two months.  Under the START I terms which defined the verification process, both sides had sixty days to verify the other side’s conformity with the agreement using satellite over-flys.  Like most agreements between strategic adversaries, SALT & START operated under the principle of "trust but verify", the second element of that included because nobody believed in the first.  

Broadside (9 x 16” guns) from the USS Iowa.

The US Navy's four Iowa-class battleships were mothballed and re-commissioned several times between 1948 and 1991.  Launched between 1942-1944, their last period of active service was 1981-1991 as part of the Reagan Administration’s 600-ship navy policy.  Such was the cultural significance of the big battleships, although they were stricken from the Naval Vessel Register, instead of (as usual) being scrapped, all were donated for use as museum ships, the last in 2004.  They were big ships but not as wide as some of the Super Dreadnoughts (the beam of the Iowas about the same as the last battleship ever launched, the Royal Navy's HMS Vanguard (1946-1960)), the dimension dictated by the need to pass through the Panama Canal.

Wankel

Wankel (pronounced wahng-kuh)

A type of rotary internal combustion engine, first produced 1961, named after its inventor, German engineer, Felix (aka Fritz) Wankel (1902-1988).

The Wankel engine is a type of internal combustion rotary engine, one of many based on the a rotary principle, the Wankel using an eccentric drive to convert pressure into rotating motion.  The design was conceived by German engineer Felix Wankel, an eccentric, though clearly gifted, self-taught engineer who was an early convert to National-Socialism (linked with a right-wing political movement in 1921) who joined the NSDAP (the National Socialist German Workers Party which would become the Nazi Party) the following year.  It’s important not to make too much of that, the party in its early days an aggregation of factions which were, literally more nationalist and socialist in character than anything like the racist and ultimately genocidal thing into which the Nazis evolved under Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945). 

But an enthusiastic Nazi Wankel certainly was although that didn’t protect him from falling victim to the internecine squabbles which would beset the party to the very end, expelled from the party in 1932 after feuding with his Gauleiter (the regional party boss) who, after Hitler came to power in 1933, succeeded in having Wankel jailed although, under less unpleasant conditions that those tossed into concentration camps.  Indeed, while in prison, he was able to continue working on his rotary engine, a patent for which had been granted to him in 1929.

Felix Wankel admires a shaft.

Wankel though had friends in the party, one of whom approached the Führer, stressing the importance of the amateur engineer’s contribution to German industry and that proved enough to secure his release.  He worked on a variety of projects during the 1930s, some on contract for BMW but mostly for the military including on seals, something which years later would absorb much of his energy at that of many others.  Despite his efforts for the Reich, his attempts to rejoin the party were rebuffed but his friends did gain him the honorary rank of Obersturmbannführer (Lieutenant Colonel) in the Schutzstaffel (The SS (Security Squad or Section), originally Hitler's personal security detail which evolved into a vast party security apparatus and later a parallel army almost a million strong) although his career in the "black mist" wasn't long, Wankel expelled within two years.  The records were lost in the confusion of war so the reasons aren’t known but while it’s tempting to wonder just how ghastly one has to be to be thought too evil for the SS, given the lack of any subsequent punitive action against him, it’s likely he just lost out in another of the squabbles that were so common in the Nazi system, the structures of which actually encouraged internal conflict.

It didn’t stop the Nazi state funding his research including what he was then calling his “rotary motion engine” although progress was slow and slow for a reason, the fundamental flaw in the design not resolved until the 1950s when another engineer, less visionary but more practical, rectified the fault.  Wankel's rotating cul-de-sac was far from unique in wartime Germany, the interest of the regime in technical innovation and the gullibility of party officials drew cranks, con-men and inventors inspired and otherwise.  Among the projects which received interest and sometimes cash from the state was a “non-combustible” material called durofol (which would catch fire), a scheme to create liquid fuel from the roots of fir trees (which consumed three times as much energy as it produced), the production of alcohol from bakery fumes (apparently that one was quickly rejected), a “death ray” championed by notorious drunkard Reichsleiter Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the German Labour Front 1933-1945), which turned out to be impossible to build or even test, a plan to turn the atmosphere into a conductive element using ionization (which at least has a theoretical basis even if impossible) and the mysterious “Gerloff miracle pistol”, the records for which were lost.  Compared to some of these, Wankel’s engine (which didn’t work) probably appeared quite promising.

Gleitkufenboot (skid boat).

Wankel had other projects too, one of which he would, like his engine, later revisit.  This was the Zischboot (Hiss boat), intended as a small, high-speed torpedo-boat for the navy, a kind of hydrofoil that used clusters of skis.  In the 1970s, Wankel would display a prototype (now called the Gleitkufenboot (skid boat)), powered by an impressively powerful Mercedes-Benz four rotor Wankel engine.  Wankel claimed not only was it impossible to capsize the boat but that it was unsinkable, a notable feature said to be borrowed from certain sea creatures, air-intake "nostrils" with flaps controlled by sensors to ensure no water could penetrate when driving through waves.

Wankel survived the war and suffered not greatly in the denazification process the allied occupation authorities ran to weed out the worst of the worst, his work as an engineer suggesting someone unpolitical and being expelled both from the party and the SS probably helpful in mitigation.  In that he was lucky; had the investigators dug deeper they would have discovered Nazi-era Wankel held some fairly unsavory views and had expressed them more than once.  In the new Germany, those opinions he either no longer held or kept to himself, in 1951 obtaining a position with NSU as a technical consultant.  NSU were interested in his rotary motion engine.      

1957 NSU Prinz (the front of the car is to the left).

NSU (the name an abbreviation of "Neckarsulm", the city in which the factory was located) began in 1873 as a knitting machine manufacturer which in 1886 branched out into the production of bicycles and so successful did this prove that by 1892, the knitting machines were abandoned, the factory converted wholly to the building of bicycles.  The first NSU motorcycles appeared in 1901 and were both popular and profitable, encouraging the company in 1905 to enter the potentially even more lucrative market for cars.  Between then and the end of World War II (1939-1945), there were ups and downs but NSU survived and, in December 1946, resumed building bicycles and motorcycles, commercial vehicle production starting in 1949.  These efforts proved successful and the company, by now a significant beneficiary of Wirtschaftswunder (the post-war German "economic miracle"), was by the mid-1950s the world’s largest maker of motorcycles and profitable enough for car production to resume in 1957.  Wholly unrelated to knitting machines, motor-cycles & cars, NSU (non-specific urethritis) was the old term for NGU (non-gonococcal urethritis), an inflammation of the urethra not caused by gonorrheal infection.  In post-war Germany, it's used also as the initialism of Nationalsozialistischer Untergrund (National Socialist Underground), a general term for neo-Nazism and other fascist organizantions & movements.     

1958 NSU Prinz Sport.

The car was modest enough, tiny and powered by a 600 cm³ (37 cubic inch) air-cooled twin cylinder powerplant which was essentially two motorcycle engines joined by a common crankcase.  As was fashionable in small European cars of the era, the engine was at the rear, something which would prove a cul-de-sac, most manufacturers outside the Warsaw Pact soon convinced to abandon the idea.  That disenchantment actually extended to Porsche which had the 911’s replacement in production by the mid-1970s, only to find out just about every soul left on the planet who still thought rear-engined cars a fine idea were Porsche 911 buyers who insisted nothing else would do.  The customer being always right, the 911 survives to this day and that a rear-engined machine can be as well-behaved as 911s now are will be no surprise to those familiar with modern electronics but Porsche, remarkably, had engineered a high degree of predictability into its behavior even before computers were robust and fast enough to do the job.  In 1958, NSU didn’t face the same issues of high-speed handling, the new Prinz (Prince) having but 20 bhp (15 kW).  It was wholly utilitarian but suited to the times and sold well, national success (and growing incomes) meaning within a year, the idea of a more profitable up-market version became attractive.  Although little more than an Italian-styled body atop the existing underpinnings and never a huge seller, the Prinz Sport remained in production for a decade and its lightweight and slippery shape made possible an impressive top speed of 75 mph (120 km/h).  By 1968 over twenty-thousand had been built and it was the Prinz Sport NSU used as the basis for the world’s first Wankel-engined car.

The rotary engine, light, powerful and with few moving parts had interested NSU which saw the potential for motorcycles but they also quickly identified the fundamental flaw in the design which Wankel had never resolved: both rotor and rotor housing rotated, each on different axes, creating an assembly almost impossible to keep in balance as well as necessitating an additional housing.  While Wankel proceeded along his path, publicized by NSU in 1954, another NSU engineer, Hanns Dieter Paschke (1920-1999), unbeknown to Wankel, was developing his own version (KKM 57), displayed in 1957 as the DKM 54 at the NSU Research & Development Department in Versuchsabteilung.  Before long, the concept would be refined in that the single housing became static and only the rotor rotated, Wankel’s original vision intriguing but perhaps, even now, impossible to build as a practical working device and NSU devoted some years to making their version exactly that.  In 1964, it was released to the public.

1967 NSU Spider.

In 1964, the Western world was not so laden with rules and restrictions (for good and bad) and it was possible to sell for use on the public highways what were essentially prototypes in development and that the NSU Spider certainly was.  It was also a seen by NSU as an advertisement on wheels, a showcase not only for their upcoming models but also to encourage other manufacturers to buy licenses to produce their own Wankels, an option that would be exercised by many, including Alfa Romeo, Curtiss-Wright, General Motors, Daimler-Benz, Rolls-Royce and Mazda.  For whatever reason, BMW, Felix Wankel's Nazi-era employer, declined.  Citroën, an outfit with a reputation for the quirky, were enthusiastic enough to set up with NSU a Swiss co-venture to pursue the technology.  More than most, the French would come to rue the day they ever heard Wankel’s name.

A NSW spider, the Sydney funnel-web.

The NSU Spider should not be confused with NSW’s spiders of which there are quite a few.  Of the order Araneae, spiders are air-breathing arthropods (the usual reference to them being arachnids is a bit vague) and Australia is home to many, the most venomous of which is the Sydney funnel-web (Atrax robustus), found in New South Wales (NSW) in forests as well as populated urban areas.  They prefer to burrow in humid sheltered places but it’s not uncommon for them to wander into suburban backyards and sometimes they have to be rescued from swimming pools.  Human encounters are however relatively rare but they’re noted for their aggression if a threat is perceived so caution is recommended, their highly toxic venom produced in large amounts and the remarkably large fangs (larger than a brown snake, another of Australia’s many dangerous species) can be deployed with sufficient force to pierce human finger & toenails.  Although measuring only 15-35 mm (.6-1.4 inch), their venom contains a compound which attacks the human nervous system & internal organs, a strike from a male able to kill an adult although since anti-venoms became available in 1981, no fatalities have been recorded.  The Sydney funnel-web is the deadliest spider in Australia.

Skoda (rear) engine bays, the conventional (piston) engine (left) vs the single-rotor Wankel (right).

Although the project never progressed beyond the prototype stage, the Czech manufacturer Skoda was apparently the first to have running vehicles with a rotary engine installed (a complete engine said to have been running as early as 1961) but in 1964, the NSU Spider was the first to go on sale.  It used a single-rotor, water-cooled engine and was easily distinguishable from the Prinz Sport because it was a soft top cabriolet, apart from which it was substantially the same car with only detail differences in styling and specification except it was offered only in red or white.  One other change was definitely apparent however, power had jumped to a heady 50 bhp (37 kW) at a surprisingly low 5,500 rpm, enough to propel the Spider to close to 100 mph (160 km/h) for anyone on the autobahn prepared to push the little machine to the limit.  Never expected to be a big seller, fewer than 2500 were built between 1964-1967, its purpose more to whet the public appetite for what NSU intended to be their entry into the burgeoning middle-class mass market.  Additionally, though not at the time discussed, the Spider’s engine, while at a stage of development beyond being a prototype, was not ready for release to a public using it in a wide variety of ways in different climates in different countries.  The Spider’s customers unwittingly were also NSU’s development test team, something which later in the century would become a handy business model for many software companies.

Given the specifications of the Wankel NSU would produce in the future, it may that the Spider’s single rotor powerplant wasn’t an ideal a test bed for the customers to debug but problems in design and the choice of materials were identified and, where possible, within the limits of metallurgy and the realities of economics the lessons learned were applied.  Nor was the Spider’s specification static, the experiences of the customers applied to improve not only longevity but also power, the later cars enjoying a slight increase in capacity, output now 54 bhp (40 kW) at 6,000 rpm, 4 bhp perhaps not impressing all but it was close to 10% more and although the factory didn’t claim any increase in attainable speed, the most recent Spider owners presumably got there a little more quickly.

1967 NSU Ro 80 (1967-1977).

If the spider had generated interest, the NSU Ro 80, released in 1967, was a sensation.  Even without the novelty of the rotary engine (without which all concede it would doubtless have been a success), it would have made quite an impact.  The body, which does not look out of place even in the twenty-first century, was a modernist masterpiece, trendsetting in a way the 1955 Citroën DS (often called the déesse (literally "goddess")) was just too extreme to be yet more aerodynamically efficient, the Ro 80’s drag coefficient (CD) of .354 just a fraction better than the French car’s .359.  Beneath the skin, the futurist vision continued, the efficient front-wheel-drive packaging in the vanguard of adoption by larger vehicles, four wheel disk brakes (inboard at the front), a semi-automatic transmission, power-assisted rack and pinion steering and all independent suspension.  Reviews upon release were sometimes ecstatic, the only criticism from some who found the interior austere but it was era in which only the most expensive German cars were fitted-out with much beyond the starkly functional; NSU’s designers looked to Le Corbusier and Gropius, not the Jaguar Mark X.

The Ro 80 won the 1968 European Car of the Year award and buyers seemed as impressed as the many journalists who voted NSU.  Out on the autobahns, the twin-rotor engine was a smooth, quiet and a delight to use, the slippery shape meaning the 113 bhp (85 KW) it generated from a comparatively small 995 cm³ (61 cubic inch) displacement allowed it to match the speed of cars with even three times the capacity, the turbine-like feel encouraging a disregard for the 6500 rpm redline which it seemed to exceed without complaint.  The honeymoon didn’t last.  Critics began to notice it was good to match larger six cylinder cars in performance but it came at the cost of a thirst many V8 owners didn’t suffer.  Nor was the Ro 80, so at home cruising at 100 mph (160 km/h) on the autobahn, quite as happy in the stop-start urban conditions where the modern German motorist was now spending much time, some finding the previously admired semi-automatic transmission clumsy to use, the experience jerky.  The Wankel engine didn't deliver much much low-speed torque and drivers had to adjust their technique; those used to the more effortless performance of the 2-3 litre engines most often found in this class of car found negotiating their commute through a succession of red traffic-lights harder work than before.    

Nothing is perfect and such was the appreciation of the Ro 80’s virtues these drawbacks may have been overlooked or at least endured but what couldn’t be forgiven was that the Wankel engines were frequently, numerously, rapidly and expensively failing and, being within the warranty period, it was NSU which bore the cost to repair or replace.  That was bad enough but the car was quickly gaining a reputation for unreliability and sales were falling, exacerbating the financial strain NSU was suffering from all the warranty claims.  Nor was the once profitable motorcycle business there to subsidise the four-wheel venture, production having ended in 1968 to allow the company to focus on the Ro 80.  The problems hadn’t been wholly unexpected, just underestimated; NSU’s engineers had warned the board the engine wasn’t yet ready for production and needed at least months more durability testing and development but, perhaps remembering the relatively smooth introduction of the Spider, and certainly seeking cash-flow, approval was given for a debut in 1967.

It wasn’t difficult to work out where the problems lay which was mostly in the high wear of the apex seals and consequent damage to the rotor housing.  Essentially, the seal failure destroyed the engine, necessitating a replacement and it was not uncommon for replacement engines also to fail and require replacement, again under warranty.  For a small company with limited resources, it was unsustainable and NSU was soon unviable, the takeover by Volkswagen in 1969 said to be a "merger with Audi" only an attempt to glue a veneer of corporate respectability on what was the takeover of a distressed competitor.  It was unfortunate.  In just about every way except the flawed engine, the Ro 80 was years ahead of its time and deserved to succeed.  Had it been powered by a 2.8 litre flat-eight and configured with all-wheel drive (AWD) it would have been worthy competition for Mercedes-Benz and Jaguar (in this class BMW & Audi not yet a thing) and more advanced than either. 

1967 Mazda Cosmo.

The issue was the engine at that stage of its development given the metallurgy of the time rather than NSU because Mazda, which had in 1961 purchased a licence to produce the Wankel, were suffering the same problems in the Cosmo sports car, introduced also in 1967.  The Cosmo however, was a low-volume model and Mazda had other, profitable ranges on sale and so could absorb the cost of fixing failed Cosmos.  Mazda did seem to learn from the NSU experience however.  When they put the Wankel into volume production, the vehicles initially were offered either as a rotary or with a conventional piston engine, an approach which seemed promising but such was the fragility of the Wankel, even that had to be abandoned.  Mazda, after putting Wankels even into small trucks and busses, realised that for consumer vehicles, it was a niche product and restricted it to specialist sports cars.  The problems didn’t go away, but, for a while, they became manageable.

Mazda RX-7 (the Porsche 924-928 inspired second generation (1985-1992) model) in Lindsay Lohan's music video clip First (2005).

The Cosmo's spiritual replacement was the RX7, a two door coupé (there was a short run of roadsters in the second generation) built over three generations between 1978-2002.  With over 800,000 produced, it's probably still the machine most identify with the Wankel engine and was the car which came closest to gaining the mainstream acceptance which had eluded earlier models such as the RX-2 (Capella), RX-3 (Savanna) & RX-4 (Luce), probably because reliability had significantly improved and those buying relatively expensive sports cars were more tolerant of the higher fuel bill and in fairness, much of the competition offering similar performance returned fuel consumption which was little different.  It was replaced by the RX-8 which proved (thus far), the swansong for the Mazda rotary on the streets.     

1972 NSU Prinz 1200 TT.

Remarkably, Audi-NSU, although axing the outdated rear-engined Prinz range, maintained the troublesome Ro 80 in production and despite its thirst it survived even the first oil crisis which killed off so many others.  Although most of the old NSU manufacturing capacity had long been given over to the Audi production line, it wasn’t until 1977 the last Ro 80 was built, the decade’s total production of 37,000-odd a disappointment for a car expected to ship more than that every year.

Despite NSU’s takeover in 1969 in the wake of the problem, even in the early 1970s, many major manufacturers were still convinced the Wankel's many advantages would render the piston engine obsolete and embarked on large, and expensive, development programs.  In this they were encouraged by the legendary optimism and confidence of engineers who so often think any engineering problem can be solved with enough time and money.  However the problems, seal wear, emissions and high fuel consumption proved insoluble and the projects which hadn’t been abandoned didn’t survive the first oil crisis.  Apart from the odd small-volume independent, only Mazda persisted. 

Notable Wankel Moments

1974 Mazda Rotary Parkway 26 Minibus (1974-1976).

The Mazda Cosmo was shown only weeks after the NSU Spider. Twice the capacity of the NSU, it was much more ambitious and though also troubled, its low volume meant the rectification was manageable.  Only Mazda has produced Wankel engines in large quantities and they've offered the power-plant in sports cars, racing cars, sedans, coupés, station wagons, pick-up trucks & buses, the last two perhaps a curious place to put an engine not noted for its prodigious torque.  Others, with varying degrees of success, have put them in automobiles, motorcycles, racing cars, aircraft, go-karts, jet skis, snowmobiles, chain saws, and auxiliary power units.

1976 Mazda RX-5.

Even Mazda, which has at least partially solved most of the problems, currently don't have a Wankel in production; the last, used in the RX-8, unable to meet the latest EU pollution standards.  Despite this, Mazda claim to be committed to the Wankel and the factory say development is continuing, in 2016 showing the RX-Vision, hinting it could be on sale as early as 2020.  The COVID-19 pandemic put that at least on hold and concerns about CO₂ emissions may mean the Wankel's historic automotive moment, which lingered for so long, may finally have passed so whether Mazda really solved the problem of toxicity may never be known. 

1975 HJ Mazda Roadpacer (HJ & HX, 1975-1977).

Most Holden fans, as one-eyed as any, don’t have fond memories of the HJ (1974-1976) Premier.  Usually, all they’ll say is its face-lifted replacement, the HX (1976-1977), was worse.  With its chassis not including the "radial tuned suspension" (RTS) which lent the successor HZ (1977-1980) such fine handling and with engines strangled by the crude plumbing used in the era to reduce emissions, driving the HJ or HX really wasn’t a rewarding experience (although the V8 versions retained some charm) so there might have been hope Mazda’s curious decision to use the HJ (and later the HX) Premier as their top-of-the range executive car, complete with a smooth two-rotor Wankel, might have transformed the thing.  That it did but the peaky, high-revving rotary was wholly unsuited to a relatively large, heavy car.  Despite producing less power and torque than even the anaemic 202 cubic inch (3.3 litre) Holden straight-six it replaced, so hard did it have to work to shift the weight that fuel consumption was worse even than when Holden fitted their hardly economical 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8 for the home market.  Available only in Japan and sold officially between 1975-1977, fewer than eight-hundred were built, the company able to off-load the last of the HXs only in early 1980.  The only thing to which Mazda attached its name not mentioned in their corporate history, it's the skeleton in the Mazda closet but does have one place in history, the footnote of being the only car built by General Motors (GM) ever sold with a Wankel engine.

Mercedes-Benz C-111 (1968-1970), the three-rotor (upper) and four-rotor (lower) Wankel versions.

Although the C-111 would have a second career in the late 1970s in a series of 5-cylinder diesel and V8 petrol engined cars used to set long-distance speed & endurance records, it's best remembered in its original incarnation as the lurid-colored ("safety-orange" according to the factory) three and four-rotor Wankel-engined gullwing coupés, sixteen of which were built.  The original was a pure test-bed and looked like a failed high-school project but the second and third versions were both finished to production-car standards with typically high-quality German workmanship.  Although from the school of functional brutalism rather than the lovely things they might have been had styling been out-sourced to the Italians, the gullwings attracted much attention and soon cheques were enclosed in letters mailed to Stuttgart asking for one.  The cheques were returned; apparently there had never been plans for production even had the Wankel venture proved a success.  The C-111 was fast, the four-rotor version said to reach over 300 km/h (190 mph), faster than any production vehicle then available.

Herr Wankel’s personal R107 (350 SL) fitted with 4 Mercedes-Benz Rotor Wankel (KE-413).

Less conspicuously than the C-111s in lurid safety orange were the roadsters which Mercedes-Benz used as Wankel test-beds.  The first used the W113 (1963-1971) platform, remembered now as the first “pagoda” and while it would never have been suitable as a production car, it apparently wasn’t as unbalanced as the sole W113 fitted with the 6.3 litre (386 cubic inch) M-100 V8 (used in the big 600 Grossers and the 300 SEL 6.3) which test drivers described as "exciting but unstable".  Still, the Wankel W113 proved quite a bit faster than the 280 SL and as a proof of concept was judged a success.  The W113 though had never been intended to use anything but a straight-six whereas the successor W107 (1971-1989) was designed from the start with an engine bay and transmission tunnel which would accommodate either a V8 or the Wankel with its high central power take-off.  The W113 had used a three rotor unit (M 50 F) but R107 had four (KE-413) and delivered considerably more power than the 3.5 litre (215 cubic inch) & 4.5 litre (275) V8s used in the production models and not until the adoption of 5.0 (305) & 5.5 (339) V8s in the 1980s would the performance be matched.

Four rotor Wankel engine (KE-413, left) and the unit installed in Herr Wankel’s 350 SL.

Yet however successful the proof of concept may have been, the early skepticism mentioned by the combustion chamber specialists was vindicated because as they pointed out the chamber was "...the central feature of the combustion engine.  The priority is to produce an optimum design so as to achieve the most favorable thermodynamic efficiency."  By that they meant "...as complete combustion of the fuel as possible” and not only was this not happening with the Wankel, their point was that fundamental aspects of the design meant it could not happen, something which manifested in high fuel consumption and difficulties in meeting the exhaust emission standards due to all the non-combusted hydrocarbons.  Modest in their demands in the early 1970s, the US regulators had already provided a decade-long roadmap which would make the rules so onerous there was then no realistic prospect the Wankel could ever be made to comply.  The engineers were confident they could produce a smooth, reliable and powerful Wankel, albeit a thirsty one, but knew they could never make it clean.  All of the factory’s W113 & R107 test-beds were scrapped when the project was cancelled but Felix Wankel’s personal R107 SL survives.  He obtained a four rotor unit from Mercedes-Benz, had it installed by technicians at his institute and in 1979, the trade journal Auto Motor und Sport published their road-test of the unique machine, reporting a 0-200 km/h (120 mph) time of 25.9 seconds and a top speed of 242 km/h (150 mph).

Citroën GS (GX) Birotor (1973-1975) on the stand at the Frankfurt Motor Show, August 1973.

Sometimes one gets lucky, sometimes not.  In the US, Ford introduced the new, small and economical Mustang II a few weeks before the first oil shock in 1973 and had a big hit (something sometimes forgotten by those who so decry the Mustang II and condemn it a failure).  In Australia, about the same time, Leyland announced the big new P76, a selling point its V8 engine.  The P76 wasn’t without faults and may anyway have failed but the timing didn’t help and it didn’t last long, shortly taking with it whatever remained of Leyland Australia.  In France, in October 1973, the very month in which events in the Middle East triggered the first oil shock, Citroën's thirsty GS Birotor went on sale.  Shown at the Frankfurt Motor Show in August, the reception had been generally positive, most complaints being about the aesthetic; all the Birotors appeared to be painted in shades of brown, a color which seemed to stalk the 1970s.

Mechanically though, even before going on sale, some with high hopes for the Wankel were disappointed, the Birotor not realising the promise of smaller, lighter packages.  Despite the compact size, the engine would fit in the GS’s engine bay only transversely so Citroën’s signature inboard disk brakes couldn't be used for the first time since the pre-war Traction Avant. That necessitated a different subframe, a wider track, and bigger wheel arches than the standard GS.  Combined with other detail differences, it bulked the rotary-powered GS up to 690 lb (290 kg) more than the standard GS, compelling the addition of anti-roll bars to reduce the increased propensity towards body roll.  Another mechanical aspect not much discussed at the time was the Wankel's high exhaust emissions.  In one of many possible illustrations of how the politics of the matter has changed, it was a time when the exhaust pollution rules imposed by the United States appalled Europeans because of the way they made the detoxed cars behave.  Not wishing to sacrifice power, in Europe, drivers for years enjoyed un-emasculated engines and accepted the higher emission of CO₂ and other pollutants as part of life.  Widespread interest in climate change, then the concern of a handful of specialists looking at what was called the "greenhouse effect", was a generation away.  Despite cubic money being spent, it was one aspect of the Wankel that was never fixed and was the final nail in the coffin of Mazda's RX8.    

Known also as the GZ, the Birotor replaced the noisy but robust and economical air-cooled flat four used in the GS on which it was based and cost about 70% more.  The Wankel engine was the first fruit of the NSU-Citroën joint venture and, being of small capacity, attracted lower taxes than a similar piston-engined car.  However, it suffered the problems endemic to the Wankel: ruinously high fuel consumption and chronic unreliability caused by wear of the rotor seals and the damage this caused to the housing walls.  Citroën had looked at the Ro 80's issues and had included an additional oil pump to improve seal lubrication but the problems persisted.  Internal documents later revealed that just as at NSU half a decade earlier, there were those within Citroën who understood, long before the release, that a disaster was impending but a combination of corporate inertia, an unwillingness to admit failure and a number of contractual obligations meant the Birotor went on sale.  Within months the extent of the problem was realized.  Although only a few hundred had found buyers, broken ones were being towed to dealers around the country and owners were irate.  Early in 1975, Citroën dropped the model, offering to buy back all the 847 made, running or not, customers given a full-refund.  Most agreed and Citroen scrapped every one they could, hoping everyone would forget they ever existed.  A remarkable third of owners declined the offer and many survived in private hands; among Citroën aficionados they’re a collector’s item though probably more displayed as a curiosity than driven.

A twelve-rotor motor intended for marine applications.

The low weight, compact profile, small number of moving parts and very high specific output of the Wankel has always attracted engineers.  The Wankel turned out to be well suited to applications where it could be maintained at a constant speed for long periods, the problem of unburnt fuel in the exhaust substantially resolved, improving emissions and fuel consumption.  Wankels lose efficiency dramatically when they are revved up and down as they are in the normal use of a passenger car but in boats and aircraft where engine speed tends to be constant for long periods, they can work well.  In airframes especially, where weight is so critical, the inherent advantage of the vastly superior power to weight ratio can be compelling.

1989 Norton 588.

One of the many companies to purchase a licence from NSU was English motorcycle manufacturer BSA (British Small Arms) and this became the property of Norton when it absorbed BSA in 1973.  Norton’s troubled history in the 1970s had little to do with the Wankel but after bankruptcy, it was revived on more than one occasion and during one of those escapades, it made almost a thousand Wankel motorcycles.  Other manufacturers dabbled with Wankels and Suzuki actually made some 6000 RE5s between 1974-1976 but the best of the breed were thought to be the Nortons, even though they were admitted to be early in the development cycle.  The Wankel was a more reliable thing by the time the Nortons were made but they suffered the underlying problem of all road-going applications: the advantages just weren’t enough to outweigh the drawbacks, added to which, piston engines continued to improve.  Norton allowed the project to die but did use the Wankel technology to develop a line of UAV (unmanned aerial vehicles, sometimes called drones) engines that proved successful; weighing only 22 lb (8.2 KG) yet producing 38 bhp (28 kw) they proved ideal for the task.

1972 Chevrolet Corvette XP-895 Prototype.

In 1972, spooked a bit by the news Ford would be offering the mid-engined De Tomaso Pantera through Lincoln-Mercury dealers, to steal a bit of the thunder, Chevrolet dusted-off and displayed a mid-engined Corvette prototype, production of which had been cancelled because of the cost.  It was shown again in 1973, this time with a four-rotor version of the Wankel GM had been developing in a number of configurations.  After the Wankel project was aborted, there were plans to use the body with a V8 to replace the existing Corvette, a release penciled in for 1980 but again, costs and concerns about sales potential aborted the idea.  It meant the already long-serving Corvette stayed in the line for fifteen years, not replaced until 1983 and not until well into the next century was a mid-engined version released.