Hang

Hang (pronounced hang)

(1) To fasten or attach a thing so that it is supported only from above or at a point near its own top; to attach or suspend so as to allow free movement.

(2) To place in position or fasten so as to allow easy or ready movement.

(3) To put to death by suspending by the neck from a gallows, gibbet, yardarm, or the like; to suspend (oneself) by the neck until dead.

(4) To fasten to a cross; crucify.

(5) To furnish or decorate with something suspended.

(6) In fine art, to exhibit a painting or group of paintings.

(7) To attach or annex as an addition.

(8) In building, to attach (a door or the like) to its frame by means of hinges.

(9) To make an idea, form etc dependent on a situation, structure, concept, or the like, usually derived from another source.

(10) As hung jury, hung parliament etc, where deliberative body is unable to achieve a majority verdict in a vote.

(11) In informal use, to cause a nickname, epithet etc to become associated with a person

(12) In nautical use, to steady (a boat) in one place against a wind or current by thrusting a pole or the like into the bottom under the boat and allowing the wind or current to push the boat side-on against the pole.

(13) To incline downward, jut out, or lean over or forward.

(14) To linger, remain, or persist; to float or hover in the air.

(15) In informal use (to get the hang of), the precise manner of doing, using, etc, something; knack.

(16) In computing, as “to hang”, usually a synonym for “freeze”.  Nerds insist a hang refers only to a loss of control by manual input devices (mouse; keyboard etc) while the machine remains responsive to remote control whereas a freeze is a total lock-up.

(18) In chess (transitive) to cause a piece to become vulnerable to capture and (intransitive) to be vulnerable to capture.

(19) As “hang up”, to end a phone call, a use which has continued even though many phone handsets no longer physically “hang up”.

Pre 900:  A fusion of three verbs: (1) the Middle English and Old English hōn (to hang; be hanging) (transitive), cognate with the Gothic hāhan (originally haghan); (2) the Middle English hang(i)en & Old English hangian (to hang) (intransitive), cognate with the German hangen; and (3) the Middle English henge from the Old Norse hanga & hengja (suspend) (transitive), cognate with the German hängen & hangēn (to hang).  The ultimate source of all forms was the Proto-Germanic hanhaną (related to the Dutch hangen, the Low German hangen & hängen, the German hängen, the Norwegian Bokmål henge & Norwegian Nynorsk henga), root being the primitive Indo-European ḱenk- (to waver, be in suspense).  Etymologists compare the evolution with the Gothic hāhan, the Hittite gang- (to hang), the Sanskrit शङ्कते (śáṅkate) (is in doubt; hesitates), the Albanian çengë (a hook) and the Latin cunctari (to delay).  From the Latin cunctari, Modern English retains the very useful cunctator (a procrastinator; one who delays).  Hang is a noun & verb, hangman, hanger & hangee are nouns, hanging is a noun, verb & adjective, hanged is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is hangs.  In practice, while it's correct to say someone executed is “the hangee”, the usual practice is to refer to them as “the hanged” and in the case of multiple, simultaneous hangings, depending on the sentence structure it can correct to say “the hanging” or “the hangings” (if referencing the event) or “the hanged" (if referring to the unfortunate individuals).

Past tense: hung and hanged

Hang has two forms for past tense and past participle, “hanged” and “hung”.  The older form hanged is now used exclusively in the sense of putting to death on the gallows by means of a lawful execution, sanctioned by the state.  Even in places where capital punishment is no longer used, it remains the correct word to use in its historical context.  There are two forms because the word “hang” came from two different verbs in Old English (with a relationship to one from Old Norse).  One of these Old English verbs was considered a regular verb and this gave rise to “hanged”; the other was irregular, and ended up as “hung”.  Hanged and hung were used interchangeably for hundreds of years but over time, hung became the more common.  Hanged retained its position when used to refer to death by hanging because it became fossilized in both statute and common law; it thus escaped the development of Modern English which tended increasingly to simplified forms.  Even the familiar phrase hung, drawn and quartered originally used “hanged”, a change reflecting popular use.  The only novel variation to emerge in recent years has been to use hanged to describe executions ordered by a state and hung when referring to suicides by hanging although this remains still a trend rather than an accepted convention of use.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) held it wasn't necessarily erroneous to use "hung" in the case of executions but in standard English it was certainly less customary although most style guides acknowledge the distinction still exists while noting the use of hung is both widespread and tolerated.  The consensus seems to be it’s best to follow the old practice but not get too hung up about it.

Portraits: hung and not hung

A tourist admiring a piece of (very) modern art, hung in the Louvre, Paris, 22 February, 2026.

Works of art being stolen from art galleries is a not uncommon crime and such acts tend now to receive wide coverage only if what was taken was worth millions, in some way interesting or the execution of the heist was especially audacious, as recently was the case in a well-planned operation at the Louvre.  However, smuggling something into a gallery to be hung is unusual and on 22 February, 2026, briefly, the Louvre gained an exhibit, a framed copy of the now famous image of a seemingly stunned Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960, formerly Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Admiral etc) slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest in connection with matters relating to his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019).  The cunning stunt was organized by the “anti-billionaire” activist group “Everyone Hates Elon” which, emulating the gallery’s protocols, placed a label beneath the hung image reading, “He’s Sweating Now — 2026” and the group later posted on-line that the display was intended as “a call for accountability”.  According to press reports, photograph and caption remained hung “for about 15 minutes” before being removed by museum staff.  Everyone Hates Elon is a UK-based collective devoted to political campaigns using the modern techniques of the social media age.  It was formed in 2025 explicitly to oppose businessman Elon Musk (b 1971), prompted by his (possibly ill-conceived) involvement in politics as an advisor to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) although its remit quickly extend to other billionaires and such.  In any other context, Mr Mountbatten Windsor might have seen the humor in what students of Andy Warhol (1928–1987) would have labelled “15 minutes of fame from being 15 minutes in a frame” but it’s doubtful he laughed.  The “He’s Sweating Now” text was a reference to the “train-wreck” of an interview the then prince/duke/admiral etc in 2019 agreed (against professional advice) to undertake for the BBC’s Newsnight programme, one memorable assertion being his claim that for some physiological reason he was at the time “couldn’t sweat” and thus his accuser (Virginia Giuffre (1983-2025)) was lying when she said she'd seen him perspire while both were in nightclub.  More men have talked themselves into difficulties than have ever talked their way out of them.

The photograph of Mr Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, while under arrest.  Analysts of such things suggest that, aware of the photographers, he was attempting to "make himself invisible to their lens".

The instantly famous image of a seemingly stunned former prince slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest was snapped by Reuters staff photographer Phil Noble who gleefully admitted capturing the moment was “more luck than judgement” and a case of being “in the right place, at the right time”.  Like the “blood shot” & “bullet shot” taken by Doug Mills in Butler, Pennsylvania on 13 July 2024 when an assassin’s bullet grazed right ear of Donald Trump, had either photographer been standing even a few inches to the left or right or had pressed the button a second earlier or later, the moment would have been missed.  As Mr Noble put it: “The photo gods were on my side.  Is it the best photo I've ever taken?  No.  Is it up there with most important? 100%.”  Digital technology also did its bit, six images shot in rapid succession, two of which showed only police officers, two proved blank and one was out of focus, none of which mattered because the one that went around the work was about as perfect as a news-photo can be.  Although publications routinely use software to “edit out” the “red eye effect” (caused by a reflection from the camera’s flash), on this occasion it was left untouched, better to capture the immediacy of the moment when the former prince's thoughts may have been focused on the fate of Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649).

Hangman the game.

Both played for fun and used as an educational tool for children, Hangman is a guessing game in which letters or numbers are chosen to enable a word, name or phrase to be completed.  Originally for two or more players, one charm of the game is it demands nothing more than pencil & paper although there are now electronic versions suitable for single-user play.  In Hangman, one player draws on the paper dashes (and, if need be, spaces) which correspond with the word or phrase and the other(s) tries to guess it by suggesting letters or numbers within a certain number of guesses.  In its simplest form, six guesses are allowed, corresponding to the six body parts of the stick figure to be hanged (1 x head, 1 x torso, 2 x arms & 2 x legs) with those parts drawn on the gallows with each wrong guess.  To make it easier to solve or when long, obscure or complex text is used, other body parts (feet, hands, ears etc) and even the elements of the gallows can be added.  Perhaps surprisingly in these more sensitive times, Hangman hasn’t be cancelled and is still widely played although it's recommended by some that if used with young children, the alternative version “Snowman” might be a better choice, the rules exactly the same.

Mandy in underpants (presumably his but who knows?).  There is no suggestion Mandy engaged in inappropriate or improper conduct with this unidentified young lady.

When, particularly with younger children, Hangman is used as an educational tool, it can be helpful at certain points in the game to provide a clue and for the example above one might furnish the photograph from the Epstein files of Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) in his underpants, speaking with an unidentified woman.  The photograph was taken in the New York apartment of convicted paedophile sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein and when asked about the image, his lordship responded by saying he “did not recall” the circumstances.  Some were uncharitably cynical about that (lack of) recollection but it does seem plausible given (1) Mandy doubtless spent much time wandering Epstein’s apartment while in his underpants and (2) because Epstein had so many “acquaintances”, Mandy could hardly be expected to remember them all.

Most politicians, usually by virtue of uninterest, leave the arts to others but there are exceptions and while Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) wasn't unique among politicians in regarding himself as “an artist” he was untypical and his credentials were reasonable because in pre-World War I (1914-1918) Vienna he’d earned a modest living as a painter of the streetscapes in which there’s now a somewhat controversial trade.  Critics seem prepared to concede Hitler was a competent artist when depicting buildings and even the natural environment but all concurred with the examiners who denied him entry to art school on the basis he had not enough talent to handle the human form, a judgment some historians, political scientists and amateur psychoanalysts have over the years mapped onto his political career.  With that, even he may have agreed because the people in his paintings are almost always small, un-detailed blotches, there merely to lend scale to the buildings which were his real love but, after taking power in 1933, he didn’t let that stop him establishing himself as the Reich’s chief art critic and he’d judge portraiture as harshly as any landscape.  He certainly thought an “artistic temperament” was vital for a politician to achieve greatness, rejecting the idea of Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) succeeding him as Führer because the head of the SS was “totally unartistic” and it was Hitler’s self-identification as “an artist” which in the first decade of his rule protected many painters, sculptors and others from persecution.  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) noted that for Hitler their political views were “…a matter of supreme indifference…” because “…he regarded them one and all as politically feeble-minded.”

Speer recalled a lunch in 1938 at Munich’s Osteria Bavaria (Hitler’s favorite Italian restaurant) during which a senior Nazi functionary brought to the Führer’s attention a Communist Party proclamation (pre-dating the Nazi regime) which had been signed by a large number of artists; the apparatchik wanted all these artists banned from any government work but Speer recoded how “Hitler replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, you know I don’t take any of that seriously. We should never judge artists by their political views.  The imagination they need for their work deprives them of the ability to think in realistic terms. Artists are simple-hearted souls. Today they sign this, tomorrow that; they don’t even look to see what it is, so long as it seems to them well-meaning.’”  It was an indulgence to freedom of expression Hitler granted few others and a contrast also with what would have been the likely reaction of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to revelations of dissent.  Comrade Stalin’s three preferred ways of dealing with such problems were: (1) have them taken outside, put up against a wall and shot, (2) have them sent to the Lubyanka (KGB headquarters on Moscow's Lubyanka Square) to be tortured to death or (3) have them sent to the Gulag to be worked to death.

Portrait of Oliver Cromwell (1650), oil on canvas by Samuel Cooper.

Even if it’s something ephemeral, politicians are often sensitive about representations of their image but concerns are heightened when it’s a portrait which, often somewhere hung on public view, will long outlive them.  Although in the modern age the proliferation and accessibility of the of the photographic record has meant portraits no longer enjoy an exclusivity in the depiction of history, there’s still something about a portrait which conveys, however misleadingly, a certain authority.  That’s not to suggest the classic representational portraits have always been wholly authentic, a good many of those of the good and great acknowledged to have been painted by “sympathetic” artists known for their subtleties in rendering their subjects variously more slender, youthful or hirsute as the raw material required.  Probably few were like Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) who told Samuel Cooper (1609-1672) to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Although certain about the afterlife, Cromwell was a practical politician with few illusions about life on earth.  Once, when being driven in a coach through cheering crowds, his companion remarked that his popularity with the people must be pleasing.  The lord protector replied he had no doubt they’d be cheering just as loud were he being taken to the gallows to be hanged.  Of course, to someone dead, in a practical sense it ceases much to matter whether they’d been hanged, struck by a meteorite or murdered by the Freemasons; dead is dead.  However, the method of dispatch does carry connotations and a hanging has always been thought to be the marker of punishment for some dishonourable crime whereas as to die before a firing squad, on the executioner’s block or under the blade of the guillotine can have a whiff of respectability.

Soviet cartoon: Caricature of the defendants and the anticipated Nuremberg judgment (1946) by the Soviet artists known as the Kukryniksy: Porfiry Krylov (1902-1990), Mikhail Kupriyanov (1903-1991) & Nikolai Sokolov (1903-2000).

As the trial wore on, at least two of the defendants were recorded as requesting shirts with “larger collars” and on one occasion one removed his tie, explaining it was “suddenly feeling tight”.  The famous quote “Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully” appears in volume 3 of The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. (1791) by James Boswell (1740-1795) (a biography of the English writer and literary critic Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)).

The defendants before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) trying the major Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg (1945-1945) certainly felt that, both the military men (Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the armed forces high command)) and Colonel-General Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945) sentenced to death petitioning the judges requesting they be shot rather than hanged; the request was denied.  Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) cheated the hangman by committing suicide shortly before he’s been due to be led to the gallows but previously had indicated he’d have accepted execution had it been by a firing squad on the basis that was “an honorable death for a soldier”; whether or not he’d any way have killed himself will never be known but his view was indicative of the way hangings are thought something for “common criminals”.  Some were more sanguine about their lives ending dangling from the hangman's, Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland) observing: “I expected it, I deserved it” but the most bizarre reaction to the dozen death sentences handed down came from a man who didn’t receive one.  Grand Admiral Erich Raeder (1876–1960; head of the German Navy 1928-1943) was given a life sentence and, his rationale being “better a quick death than a slow one”, requested he be shot.  On technical grounds (related to its authority to increase sentences) the IMT declined the offer and although it seems nowhere discussed, it’s assumed Raeder would have preferred to die in prison rather than undergo the indignity of being hanged.  As it was, in declining health, in 1955 he was released.

Three of the galleries at the Lindsay Lohan Retrospective by Richard Phillips (b 1962), Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.

Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  The curator explained the retrospective was conducted as an example of the way collaborative forms of image production can reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format used to render them realist portraits of "...the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  That seemed to explain things.  Some of the images hung in the gallery come from Richard Phillips' short film Lindsay Lohan, hosted (courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery) on Vimeo.

Bad Teddy and Good Theodore: Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (left) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903) oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging small wars and shooting big game, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s (1849–1907) portrait of his wife (Edith, 1861-1948), invited the French artist to paint him too.  So displeased was he with the result (which he thought made him look effete), he refused to hang the work.  Later, he would have it destroyed, turning turned instead to expatriate American artist John Singer Sargent (1856–1925).  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and prominently it was hung in the White House.

Side by side: Portraits of Barak Obama (2011) and Donald Trump (2018), both oil on canvas by Sarah A Boardman, on permanent display, Gallery of Presidents, Third Floor, Rotunda, State Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado.

In March 2025 it was reported Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was not best pleased with a portrait of him hanging in Colorado’s State Capitol; he damned the work as “purposefully distorted” and demanded Governor Jared Polis (b 1975; governor (Democratic) of Colorado since 2019) immediately take it down.  In a post on his Truth Social platform, Mr Trump said: “Nobody likes a bad picture or painting of themselves, but the one in Colorado, in the State Capitol, put up by the Governor, along with all the other Presidents, was purposefully distorted to a level that even I, perhaps, have never seen before.  The artist also did President Obama and he looks wonderful, but the one on me is truly the worst. She must have lost her talent as she got older.  In any event, I would much prefer not having a picture than having this one, but many people from Colorado have called and written to complain. In fact, they are actually angry about it!  I am speaking on their behalf to the radical left Governor, Jared Polis, who is extremely weak on crime, in particular with respect to Tren de Aragua, which practically took over Aurora (Don’t worry, we saved it!), to take it down. Jared should be ashamed of himself!”

At the unveiling in 2019 it was well-received by the Republicans assembled.  If FoxNews had on staff an art critic (the Lord forbid), she would have approved but presumably that would now be withdrawn and denials issued it was ever conferred.  

Intriguingly, it was one of Mr Trump’s political fellow-travellers (Kevin Grantham (b 1970; state senator (Republican, Colorado) 2011-2019) who had in 2018 stated a GoFundMe page to raise the funds needed to commission the work, the US$10,000 pledged, it is claimed, within “a few hours”.  Ms Boardman’s painting must have received the approval of the Colorado Senate Republicans because it was them who in 2019 hosted what was described as the “non-partisan unveiling event” when first the work was displayed hanging next to one of Mr Trump’s first presidential predecessor (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), another of Ms Boardman’s commissions.  Whether or not it’s of relevance in the matter of now controversial portrait may be a matter for professional critics to ponder but on her website the artist notes she has “…always been passionate about painting portraits, being particularly intrigued by the depth and character found deeper in her subjects… believing the ultimate challenge is to capture the personality, character and soul of an individual in a two-dimensional format...”  Her preferred models “…are carefully chosen for their enigmatic personality and uniqueness...” and she admits some of her favorite subjects those “whose faces show the tracks of real life.”

Portrait of Winston Churchill (1954), oil on canvas by Graham Sutherland.  Never hung, the painting was later tossed onto a bonfire to be destroyed.

Another subject turned disappointed critic was Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955).  In 1954, a committee, funded by the donation of a 1000 guineas from members of both houses of parliament, commissioned English artist Graham Sutherland (1903–1980) to paint a portrait of the prime minister to mark his 80^th birthday.  The two apparently got on well during the sittings, Churchill himself a prolific, if undistinguished, amateur painter and it’s clear he enjoyed their discussions.  He was unimpressed though with the result, telling Sutherland that while he acknowledged his technical prowess, he found the work “not suitable”.  To his doctor he was less restrained, calling it "filthy" and "malignant".  Churchill was a realist about his abilities with the brush and when comparing his works with a few of painted by one of the detectives assigned to him, admitted the policeman's were "better than mine", sympathizing with the man that celebrity was valued more than skill.  Churchill in 1948 published the slim volume Painting as a Pastime which had first appeared as a two-part essay in the December 1921 & January 1922 editions of Strand magazine respectively titled Hobbies and Painting as a Pastime (both reprinted in Pall Mall magazine in 1925).  The pieces led something of an afterlife, excerpts over the next few years appearing in several periodicals before both were included in the anthology The Hundred Best English Essays (1929).  The author himself re-cycled the content (again in the Strand’s two part format) in Thoughts and Adventures (1932) and the single volume edition in 1948 appeared apparently at the instigation of Churchill’s US publisher who had decided his post-war notoriety was sufficient to stimulate interest in works then more than a quarter-century old.

Portrait of Laurence Olivier in the role of Richard III (1955), oil on canvas by Salvador Dalí, Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí (Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation, Figueres, Spain).

It had been intended the painting would be hung in the House of Commons but Churchill had no intention of letting it be seen by anyone.  An unveiling ceremony had been arranged and Churchill demanded it not include the painting, relenting only when a compromise was arranged whereby both subject and artwork would appear together but rather than being hung in the Commons, it would instead be gifted to him to hang where he pleased.  Both sides appeased (if not pleased), the ceremony proceeded, Churchill making a brief speech of thanks during which he described his gift as “…a remarkable example of modern art..”, praise not even faint.  It was never hung, consigned unwrapped to the basement of the prime minister’s country house where it remained for about a year until Lady Churchill (Clementine, 1885–1977)), sharing her husband’s view of the thing, had a servant take it outside where it was tossed on a bonfire, an act of practical criticism Sutherland condemned as “vandalism”.  Not anxious to repeat the experience of his brush with modernism, Churchill declined the offer of a sitting before the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí (1904–1989), the result of which might have been interesting.  It's not known if Churchill ever saw Dali's interpretation of Laurence Olivier (1907-1989).

Two photographs of Winston Churchill (1941) by Yousuf Karsh.

Theodore Roosevelt’s pose is one favored by politicians but the expression adopted matters too.  The famous photograph taken in Ottawa in December 1941 by Armenian-Canadian Yousuf Karsh (1908-2002) was actually one of several but those where Churchill shows a more cheerful countenance are not remembered; they didn’t so well suit those troubled times.  The scowl, although immediately regarded as emblematic of British defiance of the Nazis, had a more prosaic origin, the photographer recalling his subject had appeared benign until it was insisted the ever-present Havana cigar be discarded lest it spoil the photograph.  That changed the mood but, the moment captured, he relented and permitted a couple more, including the now obscure ones with a smile.

Patent

Patent (pronounced pat-nt or peyt-nt)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(25) Any right granted by such a document.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Windsor Castle, September, 2025.

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

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