Dominion

Dominion (pronounced duh-min-yon)

(1) The power or right of governing and controlling; sovereign authority.

(2) Rule; control; domination; predominance; ascendancy.

(3) A territory, usually of considerable size, in which a single ruler-ship holds sway (used sometimes figuratively).

(4) Lands or domains subject to sovereignty or control.

(5) In political science, a territory constituting a self-governing commonwealth and being one of a number of such territories united in a community of nations, or empire.  Formerly applied to self-governing former colonies of the British Empire; Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and later, others.

(6) In law, a rare (probably archaic) alternative spelling of dominium.

(7) In taxonomy, kingdom.

(8) A specialized classification in theology; in biblical scholarship, an order of angel in Christian angelology, ranked above virtues and below thrones.

Mid 1400s: From the Middle English dominion (lordship, sovereign or supreme authority), from the Middle & Old French dominion (rule, power), from the Medieval Latin dominionem (nominative dominio) or dominium (lordship, right of ownership), from dominus (lord, master), corresponding to dominium (property, ownership) from domus (house) from the primitive Indo-European root dem (house, household).  The meaning "territory or people subject to a specific government” dates from the 1510s, the specific legal meaning at law “power of control, right of uncontrolled possession, use, and disposal" was codified by the 1650s.  In law, dominion was used from the 1510s to refer to (a territory or people subject to a specific government or control) and in the law of real property, from the 1650s assumed the meaning "power of control, right of uncontrolled possession, use, and disposal".

British sovereign colonies often were called dominions, hence the Dominion of Canada, the formal title after the 1867 union, Dominion Day, the Canadian national holiday in celebration of the union, and “Old Dominion”, the popular name for the US state of Virginia, first recorded 1778.  Dominions are best remembered as the quasi-independent nations under the British Crown, constituting the part of the British Empire best remembered as “the white dominions” or, later, “the white commonwealth”.  Canada was the first, declared in 1867 and Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland and South Africa followed.  Later additions included the Irish Free State and the states of the old Raj, India, East and West Pakistan, and Ceylon.  The Balfour (Arthur Balfour (later Lord Balfour), 1848–1930, UK prime-minister 1902-1905; Lord President of the Council 1925-1929) Declaration of 1926 recognized the United Kingdom and the Dominions to be "...autonomous Communities within the British Empire, equal in status, in no way subordinate one to another in any aspect of their domestic or external affairs, though united by a common allegiance to the Crown, and freely associated as members of the British Commonwealth of Nations." and the Statute of Westminster (1931), in what was the first general enactment for the constitution of the British Empire since Lord North's (later Lord Guilford, 1732–1792; GB prime-minister 1770-1782) regulating act of 1778, granted them what was close to legislative independence.

The word dominion was earlier used to refer to a geographically-defined political entity without legal status mentioned above.  Wales was thus described between 1535-1801 and New England between 1686-1689.  It was also the popular name for the US state of Virginia, the use first recorded in 1778.  While never bothering fully to define the status, the covenant of the League of Nations made provision for the admission of any “fully self-governing state, Dominion, or Colony”, the implication being that Dominion status was something between that of a colony and a state.  That certainly reflected British Empire practice.

Flag of Canada, adopted 1965.

Canada, officially still uses the title though it’s now merely historical with no constitutional effect, the most obvious residual effect the annual "Canada Day" national holiday (1 July) in celebration of the 1867 act of union which some older folk still refer to as "Dominion Day", the official title until 1982.  Prior to the act of union, the idea of a confederation comprising the colonies of British North America had been for some time discussed and on 1 July 1867, the Imperial Parliament created such a dominion by passing into law the British North America Act which joined the then defined territories of Upper and Lower Canada, New Brunswick & Nova Scotia.  In a typically British colonial "fix", the act created the provinces of Ontario and Quebec, the latter to accommodate the French-speaking minority there clustered and made further provisions for other colonies and territories in future to join the dominion.  It was on this constitutional framework that Canada evolved into its present form, the next major event in 1982 when the structurally significant (though by most barely noticed) Canada Act was passed which included the symbolically notable word "patriation" apparently a prime-ministerial invention by Lester B Pearson (1897–1972; Canadian prime minister 1963-1968) who in 1966 coined the term as a as a back-formation from repatriation (returning to a country of origin).

Canada, officially still uses the title “Dominion of Canada”, though it’s now merely historical with no constitutional effect, the most obvious residual effect the annual "Canada Day" national holiday (1 July) in celebration of the 1867 act of union which some older folk still refer to as "Dominion Day", the official title until 1982.  Prior to the act of union, the idea of a confederation comprising the colonies of British North America had been for some time discussed and on 1 July 1867, the Imperial Parliament created the dominion by passing into law the British North America Act (1967) which joined the then defined territories of Upper and Lower Canada, New Brunswick & Nova Scotia.  In a typically British colonial "fix", the act created the provinces of Ontario and Quebec, the latter to accommodate the French-speaking minority there clustered and made further provisions for other colonies and territories in future to join the dominion.

It was on this constitutional framework that Canada evolved into its present form, the next structural event in 1982 when the significant (though by most barely noticed) Canada Act was passed which included the symbolically notable word "patriation" apparently a prime-ministerial invention by Lester B Pearson (1897–1972; Canadian prime minister 1963-1968) who in 1966 coined the term as a back-formation from repatriation (returning to a country of origin).  In this context the difference between "patriation" & “repatriation” was merely political, lawyers agreeing there was no technical point to be argued but as a symbolic gesture, it appealed to politicians who wished to make the point that the Canadian constitution was, for the first time, fully to be in Canadian hands.  Prior to the 1982 act, the process to amend the constitution required the parliament in Ottawa to request the parliament in Westminster to give effect to the change; the United Kingdom assembly thus still functioning as an imperial parliament.  This was the arrangement which prevailed upon the granting of dominion statue in 1867 and while the 1931 Statute of Westminster (limiting the circumstances win which the British Parliament's could legislate for Canada) and the 1949 British North America (No 2) Act (granting the (federal) parliament in Ottawa significant authority to amend the constitution) did render Canada de facto independence, the device of needing to refer major amendments to London remained.

The retention of this authority in London was not the choice of the colonial oppressors, successive British governments having offered to expedite any (patriative or repatriative as preferred; repatriate from the Latin repatriare, the construct being re- (back, backwards, again) + patria (homeland) and cognate to repair (to return)) request from the Canadian parliament, but rather the inability of the politicians in Ottawa to secure the agreement of the politicians in Quebec City about the exact model of any locally-held authority.  In one of the charming quirks which emerged as the decolonization processes of the twentieth century unfolded, the view, rightly or wrongly, of the French-speaking politicians in Quebec was that the UK politicians would be less likely to make changes disadvantageous to them than would other Canadian politicians.

In the end, despite decades of discussion, debate and dissent, unanimous agreement between the federal and provincial governments proved impossible to secure and it was announced by Ottawa that regardless of that, the request would be made unilaterally to patriate the constitution from Britain.  Several provinces challenged that in the Supreme Court of Canada but the judges (in something of an echo of the prevailing view about the circumstance of the 1975 dismissal of an Australian prime-minister in 1975) ruled that provincial consent was not a legal necessity although “substantial consent” by the provincial assemblies was a longstanding constitutional convention.  As it turned out, with a small legislative tweak, the Canadian prime-minister was able to obtain the agreement of nine of the ten provinces, thereby presumably satisfying both spirit and letter.

In Westminster, a few MPs took advantage of the situation to do a bit of virtue-signaling and generally practice the politics of “warm inner glow” by voting against the Canada Act (1982) claiming to be concerned about Canada’s prior treatment of Quebec and its indigenous peoples.  The UK government however, although concerned about a couple of technical points, quickly passed the act and from that point, Canada became wholly independent, the position of Queen Elizabeth II as head of state an entirely personal relationship with the Canadian government with no connection to the government of the UK.  Presumably to try to show the people of Canada something had happened, the name of the Dominion Day national holiday was changed to Canada Day.

King George V with prime ministers at the 1926 Imperial Conference. Back row: WS Monroe (Newfoundland), JG Coates (New Zealand), SM Bruce (Australia), JBM Hertzog (South Africa) and WT Cosgrave (Irish Free State).  Front row: Stanley Baldwin (United Kingdom), King George V, Mackenzie King (Canada).

Creating some confusion, which they seem often to have enjoyed, the Colonial Office referred to all the Empire’s possessions as dominions (with a small d) while those with a capital D were the Dominions (Australia, NZ et al) proper.  Thus all Dominions were dominions but not all dominions were Dominions.  How the Foreign Office must have envied the pedantry.  

Dylan Thomas’ poem And Death Shall Have No Dominion recalls Romans 6:9 (King James translation) “death hath no more dominion”.

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead man naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
 
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
 
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

Flummery & Pabulum

Flummery (pronounced fluhm-uh-ree)

(1) Oatmeal or flour boiled with water until thick (historically, a slightly tart, jelly-like food of Welsh origin, made from extensively boiling oats, then boiling down the liquid extracted from it).

(2) A fruit custard or blancmange,  any of several bland, gelatinous foodstuffs, made usually from stewed fruit and thickened with oatmeal, cornstarch or flour.

(3) In speech or writing, complete nonsense; foolish humbug; words devoid of meaning (applied especially of flattery); deceptive or blustering speech (applied especially in politics and, as an interjection, an expression of contemptuous disbelief).

(4) Pretentious trappings, useless embellishments or ornaments intended to impress (applied to architecture, interior decorating, fashion etc).

1623: From the Welsh llymru (which was assimilated into English with an –ery ending) of uncertain origin but there may be some link with llymrig (slippery).  The figurative use to describe flattery or empty, meaningless talk, is from the 1740s.  Flummery is a noun; the noun plural is flummeries.

The Welsh llymru was “a jelly derived from oatmeal”, the name first noted in English poet Gervase Markham's (circa 1568–1637) Countrey Contentments (1623) and was known also as wash-brew although in Lancashire and Cheshire, it was called flamerie or flumerie.  The modern spelling was one of the variant forms which in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries also included thlummery and flamery.  By the nineteenth century, flummery had become the standard form, both to describe bland, unsatisfying food and unsubstantial talk or writing, and nonsense.  The US food with similar meanings is Mead Johnson's pablum, a soft, bland cereal, intended for infants, invalids and the weak.  In post-war Australia, a flummery was the name given to a mousse dessert made with beaten evaporated milk, sugar, and gelatine.  Also made using jelly crystals, mousse flummery became popular as an inexpensive alternative to traditional cream-based mousse.  In the US, it was named blancmange.

Pabulum (pronounced pab-yuh-luhm)

(1) Something that nourishes an animal or vegetable organism; food; nutriments.

(2) Figuratively, food for thought (can be neutral or positive but is more commonly used of material thought bland, dull or intellectually undemanding). 

(3) Material that fuels a fire (now rare except in technical documents).

1670-1680: From the Classical Latin pābulum (food, nourishment; fodder or pasture for animals; nourishment for the mind, food for thought), the construct being pā(scō) (to nourish) +‎ bulum (the suffix denoting an instrument).  Root was the primitive Indo-European peh-dlom, the construct being pe- (to feed) or peh- (to protect; to shepherd) + -dlom (a variant of -trom (the suffix denoting a tool or instrument)).  In the early eighteenth century the adjective pabulary (of or pertaining to pabulum (in the sense of food) and from the Latin pabulosus (abounding in fodder)) enjoyed a brief vogue as a noun (an eating place or a counter in an inn from which meals were served).  Pablum is a noun, pabular is a verb, pabulous, pabular & pabulary are adjectives; the noun plural is pabulums.

Crooked Spiro & Tricky Dick: Spiro Agnew and Richard Nixon.

The word in the late seventeenth century was used of food in the widest sense (ie that which feeds or nourishes) and that applied to that taken by people, animals, agricultural crops (in the sense of fertilizer) and even the material used to fuel a fire.  A trademark of manufacturers Mead Johnson, Pablum is a soft, bland cereal, intended for infants, invalids and the weak which was released in 1932 and it was this association which was picked up in the figurative use made of pabulum (to describe vapid or mushy political prose) in a speech made on 11 September 1970 by Spiro Agnew (1918–1996; US vice president 1969-1973).  The tone of the speech (though perhaps not the labored syntax which would be rejected as TLDR (too long, didn’t read) in the social media age) would be familiar to modern audiences used to political figures attacking the news media and was a critique of what later Republicans would label “fake news”.

“In the United States today, we have more than our share of the nattering nabobs of negativism.  They have formed their own 4-H Club - the “hopeless, hysterical hypochondriacs of history”  “…As long as they have their own association, crooks will flourish.  As long as they have their own television networks, paid for by their own advertisers, they will continue to have their own commentators.  It is time for America to quit catering to the pabulum peddlers and the permissive.  It is time to speak up forcefully for the conservative cause."

It wasn’t a new complaint for the aggressively alliterative Agnew and certainly represented well the opinions of Richard Nixon (1913–1994; US president 1969-1974) whose long list (and it was literally a list) of enemies included many journalists, editors and media proprietors.  In November 1969, Agnew had appeared at the Midwestern Regional Republican Conference in Des Moines, Iowa where he attacked “…this little group of men” who he accused of wielding “a free hand in selecting, presenting and interpreting” the news.  Intellectuals, he labeled “…an effete corps of impudent snobs”, a sentiment Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) would later recycle, the phraseology simplified so his “deplorables” would comprehend.  Agnew’s speeches are not classics in the art of rhetoric but remain landmarks in the culture wars which began in the early 1960s and which are being fought still.

Concurrent with though not related to the Watergate affair, in early 1973, Agnew was under investigation on suspicion of conspiracy, bribery, extortion and tax fraud.  While for months denying everything (always good legal advice which succeeds more often than it should), Agnew eventually was forced to negotiate a plea-bargain whereby he would resign from office but avoid jail.  On 10 October 1973, Agnew pleaded no contest to a single felony charge of tax evasion and resigned, not a few of those he’d earlier derided as “crooks” not reluctant to ensure the juxtaposition was well publicized.  Facing impeachment for his role in the Watergate affair cover-up, President Nixon (who earlier had made his soon infamous “I am not a crook” speech, followed within a year, saved from prosecution by a presidential pardon, granted by Gerald Ford (1913–2006; US president 1974-1977) who had been Nixon’s choice to replace Agnew as vice-president.

Lemon, Orange & Passionfruit Flummery

Ingredients

115g (½ cup) caster sugar

2 tablespoons plain flour

1 tablespoon powdered gelatine

250ml (1 cup) water

2 oranges, juiced & strained

1 lemon, juiced & strained

125ml (½ cup) fresh passionfruit pulp

Whipped cream, to serve

2 tablespoons passionfruit pulp, (extra, to spread on top)

Method

(1) Place the sugar, flour, gelatine, water, orange juice and lemon juice in a medium saucepan. Use a balloon whisk to whisk until well combined. Bring to the boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Simmer for 2 minutes.

(2) Pour the mixture into a heatproof bowl and place in the fridge for 1 hour or until the mixture begins to set around the edges. Stir in the passionfruit and transfer to a large bowl. Use an electric beater to beat for 15 minutes or until the mixture is thick and pale.

(3) Pour the mixture evenly into four 310ml (1¼ cups) serving glasses. Cover the glass tightly with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for 1-2 hours or until the mixture is set.

(4) Serve topped with whipped cream and with extra passionfruit pulp.

Guggenhat

Guggenhat (pronounced goo-gin-hat)

1960: The construct was Guggen(heim) + hat.  Solomon Guggenheim (1861–1949) was a US businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, best known for the Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan, NYC, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and opened in 1960.  Hat (a shaped covering for the head, usually with a crown and brim, especially for wear outdoors) was pre-900, from the Middle English hat, from the Old English hætt (head-covering, hat) (variously glossing the Latin pileus, galerus, mitra & tiara), from the Proto-Germanic hattuz (hat, hood, cowl), from the primitive Indo-European kad- (to guard, cover, care for, protect).  It was cognate with the North Frisian hat (hat), the Danish hat (hat), the Swedish hatt (hat), the Icelandic hattur (hat), the Latin cassis (helmet), the Lithuanian kudas (bird's crest or tuft), the Avestan xaoda (hat), the Persian خود‎ (xud) (helmet), the Welsh cadw (to provide for, ensure) and the Old Norse hattr &  hǫttr (cap, cowl, hood).  The Proto-Germanic hattuz is of uncertain etymology although etymologists have suggested a link with the Lithuanian kuodas (tuft or crest of a bird) and Latin cassis (helmet), the latter thought perhaps more persuasive although most maintain the source of this was Etruscan.

Sally Victor's Airwave hat created for Mamie Eisenhower (1896–1979; first lady of the United States 1953-1961) to wear at her husband's (Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969) US president 1953-1961) inauguration.  The shape reflected the influence Ms Victor noted that wartime advances in aerodynamics and the increased understanding of fluid dynamics had had on many aspects of the built environment and industrial design.

Sally Victor (1905–1977) was a US milliner active between 1928-1967 who supplied both celebrities as well as the first ladies of both the Eisenhower (1953-1961) and Kennedy (1961-1963) White Houses and in a tactic that was used by the manufacturers of many products, while maintaining the exclusivity of her signature lines, she also sold mass-market ranges under the name Sally V.  Although her designs borrowed from the history of fashion, Sally Victor was interesting in that she was inspired not only by various traditions from the visual arts of many cultures but also industrial influences such as machinery, military vehicles and, most memorably, modernist architecture.  Unlike many designers serving the upper reaches of the market, even before such things became fashionable in the post-war world, she was never reticent in using synthetic materials in her hats, valuing the novel possibilities in shape and rigidity they afforded compared to the usual felts and silks of the time.

The Gugenhat and the Guggenheim, 1960.

Her most famous hat, known informally as the “gugenhat” was based on one of the landmarks of modernism, the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum (usually styled "the Guggenheim") on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue, designed by US architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1867–1959).  Solomon Robert Guggenheim (1861–1949) was an American businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R Guggenheim Foundation.  Although his early interest in art had been in the works of the old masters, in the 1920s his attention switched to modern art, then a fashionable if not entirely respectable cult and it was in this field that he decided to specialize.  Initially, his collection was private with the occasional public exhibition but in 1939, he took the lease on a space in New York City and opened a public gallery, the Museum of Non-Objective Painting.  The size of the collection grew rapidly, in part because of the large numbers of modern works becoming suddenly available because of Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945, Führer (leader) of Nazi Germany 1933-1945) distaste for "modern art", an attitude the Nazi's imposed not only on the German state but also the territories in occupied Europe.  While the Nazis didn't want the works seen in any place under their control, they were pragmatic about them being sold for hard currency.  So large did Guggenheim's collection of the avant-garde become that in 1943, Frank Lloyd Wright was commissioned to design a dedicated structure which would become a permanent exhibition space, his remit including the stipulation that in addition to being a practical, function building, it should reflect also the nature of the contents.  Guggenheim died in 1949 and in 1952 the museum was renamed the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, the new building opening in 1959.

Lindsay Lohan at Lady Gaga's (b 1986) Fame Eau de Parfum launch party, Guggenheim Museum, New York, 13 September 2012.

The Guggenheim Museum, Manhattan, NYC.

The building was not without its critics and it’s true that the architect did seem to be uncompromising in maintain the integrity of the interior design, even if that meant imposing inherent limitations of the size and shape of what could be displayed.  Despite that, as a building it has aged well and has for decades exerted an influence which is still not spent although few who have since done art galleries have seemed anxious to be seen to be following in the footsteps.  In the 1990s, the building was extended, most impressed with how sympathetically the new was interpolated into the existing structure although the usual suspects objected, maintaining that given its historical significance, it should have been maintained in its original form.

Hat (left), designed in silk by Cristóbal Balenciaga (1895-1872) and made for Eisa (Spain) in 1962.  It evokes the spirals used by French architect Emilio Terry (1890-1969) in his Spiral house (1930) (centre) and later picked up by Philip Johnson (1906-2005) for his Church of Thanks-Giving, Dallas, Texas (1977) (right), inspired by the Great Mosque in Samarra, Iraq which itself borrowed from the square, spiral Pillar of Gor in Persia.

Nor, in 1960, was the Guggenhat a novel concept, artists and others long having been playing with the idea of the motifs of architecture being applied to hats, clothing and shoes, among the milliners the Eifel Tower, once a popular model.  Among curators, the trend had been noted and in 1954, New York’s Museum of Modern Art commissioned Sidney Peterson to direct Architectural Millinery, a short film (seven minutes duration) comparing the tops of New York skyscrapers with the styles of hats and there was a reason it wasn’t a feature-length production: To design a hat which displays the recognizable influence of an architectural style or a particular building while being both wearable and aesthetically successful is difficult.  In that sense Ms Victor choose well because the New York Guggenheim was an example of a building which might well have been inspired by a hat and such structures are rare.  Other buildings, however admired for their other qualities don’t offer milliners quite so obvious a blueprint.

Guggenheim Museum Bilbao.

The Guggenheim Museum in Abando, Bilbao, in Spain’s Basque Country, was designed by Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry (b 1929) and opened in 1997 to almost universal acclaim from architects and it’s certainly eye-catching, even if one suspects comrade Stalin might have thought Gehry’s pencil drifted a little towards “formalism”.  Still, despite the odd back-handed compliment from a curmudgeon who found the lines “a fine example of modern art”, few in the last quarter-century seem to have revised their opinions although there have been criticisms of the internal dimensions which, unlike the Guggenheim in Manhattan will certainly accommodate large installations, some suggesting such art is prevalent enough without encouraging more.  Those who thought smaller pieces somehow suffered diminishment by being dwarfed by the enveloping space just don’t get the implications of art.

It could be done although there would be many who would say it shouldn't be done: The Guggenhat (Bilbao), a three-piece installation (digitally altered image).  Stranger stuff has been seen on catwalks but the Bilbao Guggenheim, as a whole, doesn’t lend itself to being rendered as a hat though in fairness to the architect, that’s not something likely to have piqued his interest.  The various interesting bits of the building might make several different hats but to get the effect, one would presumably need models walking carefully and closely in formation.

Even the Sydney Opera House (built between 1959-1973), perhaps more obviously geometrically promising (in millinery terms) has yet to inspire anything truly memorable although some kitsch (intended and not) shows up from time to time.

Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York.

The motifs can however be separated from the whole.  Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York was created in 2018 as part of a project to encourage architectural millinery based on the H-Line, an abandoned freight rail line which community action turned into a into a vibrant public park when the historic structure was under the threat of demolition.  Named (in a perhaps unimaginative but certainly simple piece of product association) the H-Line hat, the design was rendered in dégradé colors, the white melting into an electric blue around a brim the color of the sky and was inspired by an eleven storey residential building, the first project by Zaha Hadid Architects in New York and located near the High Line.  The hand-fixed steel façade of the building features a series of interlocking chevrons, steel bands and rounded corners, all evocative of Chelsea's industrial past and the decorative curves of the H-Line hat echoes these chevrons, weaving in open and closed forms around the wearer.

Cunctation

Cunctation (pronounced kuhngk-tey-shuhn)

Lateness; delay; hesitation (archaic).

1575–1585: From the Latin cunctātiōn- (stem of cunctātiō) (delay; tarrying; a hesitation), from cūnctor (linger, hesitate), the construct being cunctāt(us) (past participle of cunctārī (to delay) + -iōn (the noun suffix).  The Latin cunctari (to be slow, hesitate, delay action), is from the primitive Indo-European konk- (to hang), the source also of the Hittite kank- (to hang, weigh), the Sanskrit sankate (is afraid, fears), the Gothic hahan (to leave in uncertainty) The Old English hon (to hang) and the Old Norse hengja (to hang, suspend).  Cunctation, cunctatorship & cunctator are nouns and cunctatory, cunctative, cunctatory & cunctatious are adjectives; the noun plural is  plural cunctations (although, historically, the use of cuncator tended to become greater).

Google ngram: Cunctation (and derivatives) was once used to mean "Lateness; delay; hesitation" (and not only in the original military context) but in recent years it's deployed mostly for effect because of the phonetic relationship with the vulgar form once known as English's "last taboo word" (something still true in certain respectable circles).  It's also a popular entry in the lists of strange & obscure words the internet has encouraged to proliferate.  Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.  

The socialist Fabian Society, founded in Britain in 1884 is a classic example of political cunctation (more usually (for a variety of reasons) called "gradualism"), the name borrowed from Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus (Circa 280-203 BC; nicknamed Cunctator (the Delayer)), a cautious Roman tactician who opposed the Carthaginian general and statesman Hannibal (247–circa 183 BC) in the Second Punic War (201-218 BC).  Facing Hannibal's vastly superior Carthaginian forces, Fabius declined to engage in traditional set-piece, climactic battles and instead adopted a tactic of harassment and attrition, using small, precise strikes on vulnerable enemy outposts and supply lines, gradually wearing down his opponent.  It was a different approach from that typically taken by the Roman military and "Fabius Cunctator" was originally a term of derision but as it became clear it was the only method likely in the circumstances to be successful, it came to be an expression of admiration.  Essentially, although using tactics which had been part of war as long as conflict has existed, it was probably the first time that what is now referred to as guerrilla (and more recently as asymmetric) warfare became a codified part of the military manual.   The Fabians used the name to draw a distinction between their moderate approach and those of violent and revolutionary anarchists and communists.  Unfortunately for historians, the Fabians choose not to call themselves the Cunctative Society, a missed opportunity for the youth wing which instead had to be content with the nickname “young fabs”.  It’s an urban (or perhaps a rural) myth the Country Party in Australia changed its name to National Party because of such concerns.   

The Fabian Society

For the Fabian's coat of arms, a wolf in sheep's clothing was thought too threatening an image for the English, the lethargic but long-lived tortoise a more comforting symbol.

The Fabian Society was formed in 1884 (a year after the death of Karl Marx (1818-1883)) as a British socialist organization advocating the principles of democratic socialism should be achieved through gradual reform rather than revolution.  At times intellectually fashionable, it attracted (sometimes briefly) noted figures from science, literature and letters including George Bernard Shaw, HG Wells, Sydney Olivier, Ramsay MacDonald, Bertrand Russell and Emmeline Pankhurst; its influence on social-democratic politics spread from the British Labour Party around the world although perhaps the most far-reaching institution it spawned was the London School of Economics (LSE), founded in 1895.  Following the tactics of Fabius Maximus the Cunctator, the Fabians chose a gradual approach to attempt to realize their political strategy rather than the sudden blast of revolution favored by some other leftist groups (now also a notion popular among the some factions on the right).  In the spirit of this philosophy, the society adopted as its logo a tortoise although it did briefly flaunt a wolf in sheep’s clothing for its coat of arms, soon dropped for fear it might frighten the horses.  Ironically, Clement Attlee (later Lord Attlee, 1883–1967; UK prime minister 1945-1951), a Fabian prime-minister once dismissed by his predecessor (and successor) (Winston Churchill, 1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) as a "sheep in sheep's clothing", turned out to be something of a political wolf, in the difficult post-war years transforming the UK's economy and many aspects of its social arrangements.         

As with many movements in the early days of mass-democracy, the Fabian Society’s platforms and political positions were a mixture of reformist social justice, enlightened progressivism and what seem now at least quasi-fascist views on eugenics and race.  The Fabians sought the abolition of the hereditary aristocracy, a minimum wage, a national health service and, at least among some members, women's emancipation and enfranchisement.  The high-point of their influence in their native land came in the years of the post-war consensus, the so-called 1945 settlement which followed the British Labour Party's landslide victory in the general election of that year.  It was an era which extended from the end of the war until the changes wrought by the Thatcher government during the 1980s and was marked by a high degree of acceptance by both sides of politics of the model of a planned economy with much public ownership.  Interestingly, it was in New Zealand during these years that the Fabian model was implemented to the fullest extent seen in the English-speaking world and, tellingly, there it was unwound by the reformist Labour governments of the 1980s even more brutally than in the UK.  The New Zealand model is of historic interest because, unusually, it combined restricted economic freedom with a classic liberal social model including freedom of speech and political participation, an inversion of that pursued by authoritarian regimes such as the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, 2011.  

Whatever may have been the political and economic consequences in the UK, it was perhaps during the post colonial years of the late twentieth century that the Fabian’s influence was at its greatest.  Many of the leading political figures in newly independent nations were exposed to Fabian thought, most famously Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru (1889–1964; Indian prime-minister 1950-1964) who designed the structure of India’s economic policy along the lines of Fabian socialism; the so-called "License Raj".  To an extent greater than was ever attempted in the UK, Nehru's Fabian ideas committed India to an economy in which the state either owned, operated or controlled the means of production and distribution, particularly industrial sectors such as steel, telecommunications, transportation, electricity generation, mining and real estate development.  Private activity, much of which was actively discouraged, was regulated by a vast and painfully slow bureaucracy through permits and licenses.  Other nations in Asia, Africa and the Middle East also followed the model to some degree though Singapore, under a competent and pragmatic leadership, soon identified the structural difficulties created and changed course, a realization which took a decade longer fully to register in the UK.

Even if the implications of its early programme were never realized, the Fabian Society remained an influence in left-wing English politics and was involved in the modernization of the Labour Party in the 1990s, although, given what New Labour became, there will be some who consider that an admission of guilt rather than a proud boast.  Now operating essentially as left-wing think-tanks rather than activist collectives, Fabian societies still exist in a number of countries under a variety of names.

The Young Fabs

After being in abeyance because of COVID-19, the ending of social restrictions in England meant the much-missed and long-awaited Young Fabians Boat Party was able again to cast-off in 2021.  Sales of the early-bird (Stg£30) tickets sold-out quickly and the standard (Stg£35) and non-member (Stg£40) tickets were soon all taken.

Prosecco spumante ("pro-spew" to admirers & detractors alike).  The young fabs know how to have a good time.

Profits from the night of drink and dance down the Thames went towards supporting the Young Fabians’ "brilliant activism and policy work", the ticket price including a complimentary glass of Prosecco.  On board, a fully-stocked bar was open all evening (cash sales only) and while the dress code was (of course) relaxed, young fabs were encouraged to dress up "as much as made them feel comfortable" which for a young fab can be a difficult compromise to achieve: too scruffy and one's chances of hooking up with another young fab might be diminished (although Prosecco is said to lower both standards & inhibitions) while too smart might be considered a micro-aggression against the poor or those from ethnic minorities whose sartorial sense differs from Western, middle-class norms.  It's not always easy to be a young fab.  Cast-off was at 19:10 from Westminster Pier (all being advised it was essential to arrive by 18.45 to ensure there was time to board because there were no refunds for cunctators, one practice from capitalism which seems to have been absorbed).  The cruise ended when the boat docked at Westminster Pier at 23.30 but the partying was said to continue in the city at "a myriad of establishments".

Young Fab Ms Victoria Parrett, Events Officer & Treasurer of the Young Fabians who may be contacted on Twitter @VictoriaParrett or at victoria.parrett@youngfabians.org.uk.

Disinterest & Uninterest

Disinterest (pronounced dis-in-trist (U) or dis-in-ter-ist (non-U))

A freedom from bias or involvement; the absence of any conflict of interest.

1605–15: The construct was dis- + interest.  The prefix dis was from the Middle English dis-, from the Old French des from the Latin dis, from the proto-Italic dwis, from the primitive Indo-European dwís and cognate with the Ancient Greek δίς (dís) and the Sanskrit द्विस् (dvis).  It was applied variously as an intensifier of words with negative valence and to render the senses “incorrect”, “to fail (to)”, “not” & “against”.  In Modern English, the rules applying to the dis prefix vary and when attached to a verbal root, prefixes often change the first vowel (whether initial or preceded by a consonant/consonant cluster) of that verb. These phonological changes took place in Latin and usually do not apply to words created (as in Modern Latin) from Latin components since the language was classified as “dead”.  The combination of prefix and following vowel did not always yield the same change and these changes in vowels are not necessarily particular to being prefixed with dis (ie other prefixes sometimes cause the same vowel change (con; ex)).  The verb interest is from the Middle English interest, from Old French interesse & interest (intérêt in modern French), from the Medieval Latin interesse, from the Classical Latin interesse (to concern, to be between).  "The original meaning from circa 1600 was “cause to be interested, engage the attention of”, was based on the earlier (1560s) interesse, from the noun and may have been at least influenced by interess'd, past participle of interesse.  In other contexts, interest can mean “having a stake in or money involved in something, or “charges payable under the terms of usury (borrowing money).

Disinterest is a verb (used with object) although the cost commonly used derived form is probably the seventeenth century adjective “disinterested” (Having no stake or interest in the outcome; free of bias, impartial (and technically a corruption of the adjectives disinterest & disinteressed)).  Disinterest should be associated with words like neutrality, impassivity, detachment, dispassion, impartiality & nonpartisanship.

Uninterest (pronounced un-in-trist (U) or uhn-in-ter-ist (non-U))

A lack of interest in something; indifference.

1890–1895: The construct was un + interest. The prefix –un was from the Middle English un-, from the Old English un-, from the Proto-West Germanic un-, from the Proto-Germanic un-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥-.  It was cognate with the Scots un- & on-, the North Frisian ün-, the Saterland Frisian uun-, the West Frisian ûn- &  on-, the Dutch on-, the Low German un- & on-, the German un-, the Danish u-, the Swedish o-, the Norwegian u- and the Icelandic ó-.  It was (distantly) related to the Latin in- and the Ancient Greek ἀ- (a-), source of the English a-, the Modern Greek α- (a-) and the Sanskrit अ- (a-).

Dating from the 1660s, the adjective interested was first vested with the now familiar meaning (characterized by concern or sympathy), as the past-participle adjective from the verb interest.  From 1828 it picked up the sense (having an interest or stake (in something) which has since lent confusion to the uninterest / disinterest thing; the sense "motivated by self-interest" attested since 1705 and may be a back-formation from disinterested.  Although it’s clumsy enough to be rare, the noun interestedness (the state or quality of being interested, or having an interest; selfishness) really does exist; fortunately, it not often comes up in conversation.  Uninterest should be associated with words like aloofness, coldness, coolness, detachment, disregard, indifference & lassitude.

Lindsay Lohan looking uninterested.

Some of the vendettas run by the grammar Nazis against contemporary practices (eg the refusal to accept the meaning of the word “decimate” has changed and that those reading histories of the Punic Wars are unlikely to be confused) but the insistence on differentiating between “disinterest” and “uninterest” is a campaign worth or support.  Historically, "disinterested" has had two meanings, the first and still most widely accepted being “impartial; unbiased by personal interest or advantage” and most associated with judges or those who sit on deliberative tribunals (the practical mechanism being the "apprehended bias" test which is a determination of whether a perception of bias might reasonably be inferred from a judge's past comments, conduct or circle of acquaintances).  The second meaning is “having or showing no feeling of interest; indifferent”.  In other words, to ensure the fairness of a trial, judges should be disinterested in the matters before them but certainly not uninterested.  Both senses are long established in all varieties of English but disinterested is often used to mean “not interested” although uninterested seems rarely misused, presumably because disinterested is the more effortlessly economical form and uninterested that bit more clumsy.  Unlike something like “notorious” which is one of those annoying words with one spelling & pronunciation yet two distinct meanings which cannot always be resolved through context, English has given us disinterest & uninterest and so they should both be used in their separate, allocated meanings, thereby eliminating any ambiguity.

Lindsay Lohan as an interested but disinterested judge on The Masked Singer (2019).

Some word nerds, most of whom seem to believe the distinction between the two worth preserving, believe the battle is lost but that the linguistic causalities will be light, in instances where such things matter (usually in courts of law) few likely to be troubled by the mistake which mentally they’ll correct and move on.  Even some once rigorously dictionaries seem to have given up and accepted descriptive reality, the Macmillan saying only “Many people think that this use of the word is not correct” and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) in one edition was prepared only to muse it was "Often regarded as a loose use."  Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of English Usage noted the a long history of overlapping use, “uninterested” originally meaning what the more fastidious now insist “disinterested” is supposed to mean today, the distinction emerging only in American English in the 1800s. Merriam-Webster conclusion was that “disinterested” has taken on an additional but "uninterested" still means only what it always has which seems a dismally defeatist position for a dictionary to adopt.