Feminism

Feminism (pronounced fem-uh-niz-uhm)

(1) A doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.

(2) In both its structured and ad hoc forms, a movement for the attainment of such rights for women (sometimes used with initial capital letter).

(3) Feminine character (obsolete except for historic references).

1851: From the French féminisme, ultimately from the Classical Latin fēminīnus, the construct being the Latin fēmina (woman) + ism.  The first known use in French dates from 1837.  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up -ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  It seems first to have been used in in English in 1851, originally as a neutral term meaning "the state of being feminine".  The sense of "advocacy of women's rights" began in 1895 ("political feminism" often traced from here although given the history that is misleading) and the word came soon to be used as a "loaded" descriptor of the female character, a kind of informal measure of the patriarchal view of femininity, often in criticism of artistic performance or literature.  So productive has the word feminism proved that there are literally more than a hundred derived forms including the:  geographical (Afro-feminism; Euro-feminism), political (anarcho-feministic, radical feminism), humorous (femocrat; femnazi), structural (post-feminism; lipstick feminism; postmodern feminism) and contested (male-feminism; trans-feminism).  Feminism & feminist are nouns, feministic is an adjective and feministically is an adverb; the most common noun plural is feminists but given the proliferation of terms created with modifiers, feminisms are often referenced even if the word is not used.

Feminism is a widely used word with an accepted definitional range but there’s no universal understanding pattern of use and, like words such as “academic” or “liberal”, the meaning conveyed widely can vary, the senses ranging from the chauvinistically aggressive to the contemptuous.  That of course transfers to “feminist” which while procedural as an adjective (relating to or in accordance with feminism), as a noun it really means what the user wants it to mean because it’s not like many other “–ist” creations (physicist, scientist etc) which are understood as simple descriptors.  Even “artist” is uncontroversial at the linguistic level (one who creates what they claim to be art) although whether what they produce can be considered “art” might be disputed.  The -ist suffix was from the Middle English -ist & -iste, from the Old French -iste and the Latin -ista, from the Ancient Greek -ιστής (-istḗs), from -ίζω (-ízō) (the -ize & -ise verbal suffix) and -τής (-tḗs) (the agent-noun suffix).  It was added to nouns to denote various senses of association such as (1) a person who studies or practices a particular discipline, (2), one who uses a device of some kind, (3) one who engages in a particular type of activity, (4) one who suffers from a specific condition or syndrome, (5) one who subscribes to a particular theological doctrine or religious denomination, (6) one who has a certain ideology or set of beliefs, (7) one who owns or manages something and (8), a person who holds very particular views (often applied to those thought most offensive).  Feminists have noted the issue, the journalist & author Rebecca West (1892–1983) once remarking: “I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or prostitute.”

Feminism & Language

Écriture féminine (feminine writing) was a concept proposed by the French feminist and literary critic Hélène Cixous (b 1937).  It denoted writing characteristically feminine in style, language, tone and feeling; it was wholly different from (and opposed to) male language and discourse although in The Laugh of the Medusa (1976) she acknowledged in this there was no biological determinism; women often writing in “male discourse” while men can write in a “feminine way”. She cited the “source” of écriture féminine in the mother-child relationship before the child acquires “conventional” language and suggested this potential language, when eventually used in writing, (whether by men or women) subverted logic, the rational and any element which may constrain the free play of meaning.  In certain feminist circles, this was intoxicating stuff.

Because of the overlap of terms and labels, it’s important to emphasize Cixous meant something different by “conventional language” than did linguistics theorist & public intellectual Noam Chomsky (b 1928), their intellectual traditions (mostly) separate.  According to Cixous, “convention is a social, cultural, and ideological phenomenon”, her concern being how language reproduces power, (especially that of the patriarchy) and her purpose an intention to disrupt existing constructs of “conventional language”.  By contrast, Chmosky was interested in mechanisms and structure (much of his analysis is gender-neutral).  In his model, “convention” was largely a surface property of particular languages, his interest the innate cognitive system underlying language and his goal an explanation of the way speakers unconsciously acquire the syntax and vocabulary of language.  This was less the “nuts & bolts” of language than how people learn to use them to assemble and convey meaning with “conventional language an outcome of process.

White Ink, Interviews on Sex, Text, and Politics (2008), Hélène Cixous, edited by Susan Sellers.

Cixous was thus a critic of “conventional language”, seeing it as a collection of constructs which made up the established forms of discourse inherited from Western culture (most of which was created or propagated by the infamous “dead white males”).  That construct was culturally hegemonic and included (1) accepted literary styles & canonical works, (2) accepted rules of syntax & logic, (3) a limited range of socially sanctioned meanings, (4) binary oppositions that tended to map onto masculine / feminine orthodoxy (reason / emotion,  activity / passivity,  strength / weakness etc) and (5) linguistic habits operating to maintain or reinforce patriarchal authority.  Obviously, none of that could be thought politically neutral and because language is a unique form of communication, being standardized after having been shaped by masculine structures of thought, “conventional language” tended to reproduce existing hierarchies.  Écriture féminine was thus writing exceeding or disrupting the conventional linguistic order, achieved through non-linear structures, ambiguity, excess & rhythm; while those devices and techniques have widely been adopted by many seeking to be disruptive of “something”, what Cixous emphasized was a particular content: bodily imagery & associative movement rather than the rigid logical progression long imposed by the patriarchy.  In other words, Cixous defined “conventional language” as something effectively synonymous with institutionalized discourse or the dominant symbolic order.

Syntactic Structures (1957) by Noam Chomsky.

Chomsky’s work in structural linguistics predated his “second career” as critic of socio-economic structures and US foreign policy and although highly controversial, was little known outside the relatively small community of academics working in the field of linguistics.  In producing his polemical work that was more accessible, he reached a much wider audience and managed to become a “celebrity academic”, a reasonable achievement given he was effectively black-balled by all of the mainstream US media (both “liberal” and “conservative” outlets).  Chomsky’s early work was highly technical (and frankly difficult fully to understand without the requisite training) but it’s clear he viewed “conventional language” as an external social system with the parameters of “convention” understood as the “surface properties” and what really mattered was the innate cognitive system underlying language (the means by which speakers unconsciously acquire conventional languages).  At that point his analysis got really dense and one of the few easily digestible concepts he offered to illustrate things was the distinction between I-language (internal language): the mental grammar possessed by an individual speaker and E-language (external language): English, French, Japanese, etc, viewed as public conventions.  For many of us, it was a rare moment of clarity.

So the use by Cixous and Chomsky of the term “conventional language” is just an example of the way language must in its context be deconstructed for meaning to be understood.  That’s not new and is something that’s been required as soon as words or phrases came to capable of carrying more than one meaning but what can’t be denied is that at some point in the twentieth century, deconstruction became fetishized and once postmodernism taught us even meaning must inherently be thought uncertain, it’s little wonder the factions girded their loins and feminist literature was part of the battle.  Cixous (in translation) and Chomsky of course shared vocabulary, linguistic conventions and sometimes even patterns of argument but their work on language was not even parallel streams but more lakes fed by the same tributaries.  Cixous was there to oppose and Chomsky to explain but he later would discover the joy of discontent.

Sexual/Textual Politics: Feminist Literary Theory (1981) by Toril Moi.

There have of course been many forks of feminist thoughts and Belgian-born French feminist psycholinguist Luce Irigaray (b 1930) wrote of a “woman's language” that was multiple, fluid, diverse and heterogeneous, evading the male phallocentric monopoly (a theory with a morphological basis associated with the structure and shape of the genitalia).  A not unrelated view was proposed by Bulgarian-born French feminist psychoanalyst Julia Kristeva (b 1941): a “language” that was pre-Oedipal, pre-linguistic and fundamentally semiotic (associated with the chora, from the Ancient Greek χώρα (khṓra) (location, place (but used here in the sense of “womb”))) as opposed to male-controlled language which she described as symbolic.  That one really disturbed some male critics.  Nearly a half-century on, the classic discussion of these matters (and other competing theories) remains Sexual/Textual Politics: Feminist Literary Theory (1981) by the Norwegian Professor of Literature Toril Moi (b 1953).

A Literature of Their Own: British Women Novelists from Bronte to Lessing (1977) by Elaine Showalter.

One landmark contribution to the development of feminist literary analysis was made by US literary critic Dr Elaine Showalter (b 1941) who in the 1970s coined gynocriticism, describing studies and interpretation focusing on women as writers, as distinct from feminist criticism and evaluation of the work of men.  Showalter explained gynocritics by saying it was a concept within which could be built “a female framework for the analysis of women's literature”.  By the 1970s literary theory had already evolved into separatist forks so the notion of siloing “women on women” as something distinct in the field suited the critical zeitgeist but what lent gynocritics its identity was a distinct sense of the author-centric.  Although a generation after the publication of Simone de Beauvoir’s (1908–1986) The Second Sex (1949) that wasn’t exactly new and whether Showalter really had created “new” models of female literary creation could be debated, gynocriticism certainly drew attention to the history of the way literary critics had handled the work of women.  These days, structural analysis at the textual level is routine but in the 1970s it was illuminating to see tracked the way the critiques by men of the work of George Eliot (pen name of Mary Ann Evans, 1819–1880) shifted after the revelation of her identity.  At a time when literary theory was being consumed by postmodernism, not all were happy about the author being “fetishized” because it seemed archaic in the age of “text” and there was of course the objection what Showalter had done was create a “female canon”, an inherently exclusionary project that ignored those not of the white middle-class.  Still, gynocriticism was after all a framework and was there for lesbians, persons of color or others to construct their own canons and whether such “sub-siloing” was a help or hindrance to the cause of feminism really wasn’t relevant; the point being it was inevitable.  Although in the twenty-first century the term gynocriticism rarely is heard, that is an indication of its success because it's part of the fabric of feminist critical theory (on the model of the way the IT industry stopped talking about OOP (Object-Oriented Programming) after it became (for a while) an orthodoxy).  Like structural-functionalism, even though gynocriticism became unfashionable, its core assumptions and methods continue to underpin the field.

Feminism's Waves

Fourth wave feminist: Lindsay Lohan,  image from a photoshoot by Terry Richardson (b 1965) for Love magazine, 2012.

The notion of feminism being not a fixed manifesto but a process in incremental waves is from a 1968 piece in the New York Times Magazine by journalist Martha Lear (b 1932).  The context was to note the appearance a decade earlier of second-wave feminism, focusing now on unofficial inequalities, unlike the first wave which was essentially structuralist.  While lineal, there’s overlap between the waves and, in both popular culture and academia, some resistance to change.  Whatever its other implications, feminism needs to be considered a political construct and it operates, as does politics, through cross-cutting cleavages; in the same way the formation of the G8 (the Group of 8, an assembly of advanced industrial economies created when Russia was added to the G7) didn’t mean the G7 ceased to exist, the successive waves in feminism both absorbed and operated in parallel with earlier waves.

First-wave feminism (1895-1950s): In this “de jure” period, the focus was on legal issues such as women's suffrage, property rights and political candidacy.

Second-wave feminism (1960s-1980s): Even before equality in legal rights wholly was achieved, the movement broadened the debate to include sexuality, family, the workplace, reproductive rights and other de facto inequalities. Attention to first-wave issues focused on child custody and divorce law.  In the West, it was the parameters of 2WF that established the popular perception of "feminism".  

Third-wave feminism (1990-2000s): Although there were cultural links, the intellectual origins of 3WF lie in a 1992 article by feminist Rebecca Walker (b 1969) and although never exactly defined, it was said to emphasize an interest in individualism and diversity (which hadn't yet become DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion)).  Controversial even at the time, with strains of libertarianism now competing with the historic collectivist model, it sought to change the parameters of feminism and there were those who argued that with men effectively having surrendered, the opposition to the notion of 3WF came mostly from those feminists who had built sometimes lucrative careers on the framework of 2WF.  It was with the emergence of 3WF that feminism truly can be said to have become schismatic with 2WF an orthodoxy (and something of an ancien régime).    

Fourth-wave feminism (circa 2010-): Regarded as a least partially technologically deterministic, 4WF is thought to have emerged circa 2008-2012 as social media gained critical mass.  It focuses on intersectionality and examines the interconnected systems of power that maintain the marginalized of certain groups in society.  4WF advocates for greater representation of these groups in all places within the power-elite, arguing equality for women will become possible only if policies and practices incorporate all groups.  There were those who argued 4WF was really 3WF 1.1 while others suggested the need for a 5WF but no coherent work has yet been published.

Slap

Slap (pronounced slap)

(1) A sharp blow or smack, especially with the open hand or with something flat; a sound made by or as if by such a blow or smack.

(2) By analogy, a sharply worded or sarcastic rebuke or comment.

(3) To put or place something promptly and sometimes haphazardly (often followed by on; if haphazard, often described as slapdash).

(4) As slap on the wrist, relatively mild criticism or censure, often used critically when more onerous punishments are available.

(5) A gap or opening, as in a fence, wall, cloud bank, or line of troops; a mountain pass; a wound or gash (now rare).

(6) As slap-sole, an additional sole affixed between the heel and sole of a high-heeled shoe. 

(7) In slang, make up (based on the notion "that which is slapped on").

(8) In slang, a poster (based on the notion "slapped onto the wall").  

Origin uncertain: It’s been linked to the (1325–1375) Middle English slop from the Middle Dutch or Middle Low German (cognate with German Schlupf (hiding place)) though with little support.  The seventeenth century Middle English slappen is of uncertain origin and probably imitative, drawing from the Low German Slapp & Slappe (slap) from which Modern German gained Schlappe (defeat).  Most suggest the verb use (in the sense of “strike with an open hand”) began in the late fifteenth century, became an adverb in the 1670s, and picked up the meanings “suddenly” or “directly” in 1829.  The noun form dates from the mid fifteenth century, again apparently of imitative origin, similar to the various German forms slappe & Schlappe.  The figurative meaning "insult, reprimand" is attested from 1736; the now probably obsolete “slap-happy” (1936) originally meant "punch-drunk and “slap on the wrist” meaning "very mild punishment" dates from 1914.  The modern acronym SLAPP is unrelated.  Slap is a noun, verb & adverb, slapping is a noun, slapper is a noun, verb & adjective, slapped is a verb and slappy is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is slaps.

Although the reaction would have been very different had the roles of the protagonist & antagonist been reversed, the clip of Emmanuel Macron (b 1977; President of France since 2017) receiving a “bit of a slap” from his wife (Brigitte Marie-Claude Macron (née Trogneux, later Auzière, b 1953)) was received with much amusement and more interest that most photo-opportunities of heads of state walking down stairs.  Distributed in May 2026, the footage circulated by AP (Associated Press) was shot when Le Président’s aircraft was on the tarmac after landing at Hanoi’s Noi Bai International Airport, Vietnam.  After the “gentle slap”, Mr Macron appeared startled but recovered quickly upon realizing a camera lens was pointed through the open door, managing a smile and wave before moving rapidly out of sight.  The “incident” was first denied by the Elysée Palace until the footage was seen, at which point the spin changed to a claim it was just a bit of playfulness between husband and wife.  Shortly afterwards, the couple walked down the stairs; they did not hold hands.

Emmanuel & Brigitte Macron, Noi Bai International Airport, Hanoi, Vietnam, May 2025.

The administration’s hope had been a visit by a representative of the former colonial oppressor would focus on France’s “Pacific outreach” but it was madame Macron’s outreach that grabbed the headlines.  A quarter-century older than her husband, (something that must baffle Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who is believed never to have read Stephen Vizinczey’s (1933–2021) In Praise of Older Women (1965)), she was one of his school teachers when he was a 15 year old classmate of her daughter and she was 39.  According to “official sources”, their “relationship” began when he was around 19; the couple married in 2007.  The explanation from the Elysée was noted by social media on which suggestions of the consequences for Mr Macron included him (1) having to write out 100 times: “Je ne discuterai pas avec le professeur” (I will not argue with the teacher), (2) being sent to bed straight after dinner and (3) not being allowed to watch cartoons on Saturday morning.  It was further suggested a future transgression would result in a caning (and not the “playful spanking” type he enjoys).

Slap soles

Seventeenth century women's slap-soled shoes.

Although they became high (and occasionally extreme) fashion items, slap soles began as a purely functional addition to men’s boots.  In the seventeenth century, men of a certain class, upon dismounting their horses, would slip a flat-soled mule over their riding boots to stop their heels sinking into the ground.  Presumably seeing a gap in the market, cobblers began to attach an additional sole, extending from tip to heel but not actually attached to the heel, a design which when walking, produced a clacking, slapping sound.  The apparently strange design existed so that riding boots would still fit securely in the stirrups and not interfere with the spurs.

Men in slap-soled boots.  Portrait of Lord John Stuart and [his brother] Lord Bernard Stuart (circa 1638), oil on canvas by Sir Anthony van Dyck (1599–1641).

History doesn’t record whether women were attracted to the style or just the idea of being able to wear their newly fashionable high-heels without also sinking into the soil but the concept was soon extended to women’s shoes.  However, when applied to women’s shoes, although the slap-sole name stuck, there was no slapping sound when walking because the sole was this time anchored at the heel as well.  It’s essentially the same concept used on a tank or bulldozer, a self-laying track which renders a more stable surface on which to move.  So bizarre was the appearance of these shoes that they have long been a collectable and the delicate, intricate detailing on many does suggest many of them must have been created purely as pieces of high-fashion.  Doubtless there were some women of the horsey set who used the genuine slapping-soles as did the men but on the (admittedly hardly representative) basis of the surviving depictions, more seem to have worn them far from muddy stable yards.

Slaps: Literal and figurative.

Usage guide for “slap”:  An example of a literal “slap” is being “slapped in the face” by the mother of the children one is attempting to “rescue from traffickers” on the streets of Moscow.  A figurative “slap” is being “slapped with a parking fine” for leaving one’s Cadillac Escalade parked next to a fire hydrant.  Overlap is possible because a parking ticket is in some places still a physical slip of paper or cardboard so one literally could be “slapped with a parking ticket”.  Instances of such presumably are rare but to avoid ambiguity the correct use is “slapped with a parking fine” (figurative) or “slapped with a parking ticket” (a literal assault & battery in cases where the ticket is used as a weapon).

Haystack

Haystack (pronounced hey-stak)

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

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

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

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

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

1962 BRM P57.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haystack News, the name an allusion to it being the place users may “find needles in the haystack”.

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

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

Bales of hay, stacked in a hay shed.  

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

Originally, haystacks were “stack of hay” that might vary in size and shape but the general practice was to create something vaguely conical; rather than being a choice, this was dictated by the physics in that a cone allowed the largest volume to be stacked with the smallest footprint as well as minimizing moisture intrusion.  The modern practice however is for hay to be bound into bales either cylindrical (“rounds”) or cuboid (a rectangular prism) in shape and which is chosen is a product of the machinery available, available storage capacity, heard size and, in some cases, whether the hay is to be transported by road.  By virtue of their shape, cylindrical bales tend to shed water reaching the surface during rainfall so any spoilage usually is restricted to the inch (25 mm) or so of the outermost layer, making them suited to outdoor storage; their density also makes them more efficient for fermenting silage.  The cuboid bale, because of the upper surface area, acts in the rain like a sponge, meaning they should be stored under cover and the advantage of the regular shape is that when stacked, the cuboids create no waste space, unlike rounds (costing as much a 15-20% in unused space).  The same equation means cuboids are best suited to be transported by truck.  The modern practice (bales now produced in standardized sizes using machines that sometimes will as part of the process wrap them in waterproof plastic sheeting) means the word “haystack” now more accurately reflects a number of bales “stacked” in a shed or on the land while the original conical “stack” would more accurately be called a “pile”.  However, because of centuries of use, the term continues to be applied to both although “bale stack” does exist in the jargon of farming.

Bales of hay being trucked to somewhere.  Both cuboids and rounds can be transported thus but, as with storage, the space efficiency of the former is superior, there being fewer gaps (ie “wasted space”) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Nuremberg Women (2026) by Natalie Livingstone.

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