Whisk

Whisk (pronounced wisk or hwisk)

(1) To move with a rapid, sweeping stroke.

(2) To sweep (dust, crumbs etc, or a surface) with a whisk broom, brush, or the like.

(3) To draw, snatch or carry etc; a generalized term meaning to move or do something nimbly or rapidly (often as “whisked away”, “whisked off” etc).

(4) To whip (eggs, cream etc.) to a froth using a whisk or other beating device.

(5) The an act of whisking; a rapid, sweeping stroke; light, rapid movement.

(6) As whisk broom, a device topped with a small cluster of grass, straw, hair or the like, used especially for brushing.

(7) A kitchen utensil, in the form of a bunch of (usually metal wire, plastic strands or (in the Far East) bamboo) loops held together in a handle and used for beating, blending or whipping eggs, cream; making souffles etc.  Modern whisks can also be electro-mechanical and “non-stick” whisks use a Teflon coating.

(8) The by-product of something which has been “whisked away”.

(9) A special plane used by coopers for evening a barrel’s chimes (the curved, outermost edge or rim at the top and bottom ends of the barrel, typically wider and thicker than the rest of the staves (the vertical wooden planks that form the sides)).

(10) In fashion, a kind of cape forming part of a woman's dress (sometimes detachable).

(11) In some card games, the act of sweeping the cards off the table after a trick has been won.

1325–1375: From the Middle English & Scots wysk (rapid sweeping movement), from the earlier Scots verbs wisk & quhisk, from the Old English wiscian (to plait) & weoxian (to clean with brush), from a Scandinavian source comparable to the Old Norse & Norwegian visk (wisp), the Swedish viska besom & wisp (to whisk (off)) and the Danish visk & viske (to wipe, rub, sponge) and related to the Middle Dutch wisch, the Dutch wis, the Old High German wisken (to wipe) & wisc (wisp of hay), the German Wisch, the Latin virga (rod, switch) & viscus (entrails), the Czech vechet (a wisp of straw), the Lithuanian vizgéti (to tremble), the Czech vechet (wisp of straw) and the Sanskrit वेष्क (veṣka) (noose) all thought from the Proto-Germanic wiskaz & wiskō (bundle of hay, wisp), from the primitive Indo-European weys- or weis (to turn; to twist).  The un-etymological wh-, noted since the 1570s, probably developed because it was expressive of the sound typically generated by the act of “whisking” something; the same evolution was noted in whip and the onomatopoeic whack and whoosh.  The device used in preparing food (implement for beating eggs etc) was first documented as “a whisk” in the 1660s although cooks had presumably been using such things for many years.  The verb developed in the late fifteenth century, the transitive sense from the 1510s while the familiar meaning “to brush or sweep (something) lightly over a surface” dates from the 1620s.  Whisk & whisking are nouns & verbs and whisked is a verb; the noun plural is whisks.

Variations on a theme of whisk.

Whisk is (almost) wholly unrelated to whisky & whiskey.  Dating from 1715, whisky was a variant of usque,an abbreviation of usquebaugh, from the Irish uisce beatha (water of life) or the Scots Gaelic uisge-beatha (water of life), ultimately a translation of the Medieval Latin aqua vītae (water of life (originally an alchemical term for unrefined alcohol)).  The form whiskybae has been obsolete since the mid eighteenth century.  The Scots and Irish forms were from the Proto-Celtic udenskyos (water) + biwotos (life), from biwos(alive).  The Old Irish uisce (water) was from the primitive Indo-European ud-skio-, a suffixed form of the root wed- (water; wet); bethu (life), from the primitive Indo-European gwi-wo-tut-, a suffixed form of gwi-wo-, from the root gwei- (to live). The noun plurals are whiskies & whiskeys.  Although iskie bae had been known in the 1580s, it appears unrelated to usquebea (1706), the common form of which was uisge beatha which in 1715 became usquebaugh, then whiskeybaugh & whiskybae, the most familiar phonetic form of which evolved as “usky”, influencing the final spellings which remain whisky & whiskey.  Wisely, the Russians avoided the linguistic treadmill, the unchanging vodka freely translated as “little water”.  The exception was the “whisky”, a small carriage (technically a “light gig” to coach-builders) which was from the verb whisk, the idea being something in which one was “whisked quickly around” the lightweight carriages being faster than most.  Chefs also caution home cooks not to confuse “whisky butter” (A concoction made of whisky, butter & sugar) with “whisked butter” which is butter which has been whisked.

Lindsay Lohan Oreos

Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998).

Whether it was already something widely practiced isn’t known but Lindsay Lohan is credited with introducing to the world the culinary novelty Oreos & peanut butter in The Parent Trap.  According to the director, it was added to the script “…for no reason other than it sounded weird and some cute kid would do it."  Like some other weirdnesses, the combination has a cult following and for those who enjoy peanut butter but suffer arachibutyrophobia (the morbid fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one’s mouth), Tastemade have provided a recipe for Lindsay Lohan-style Oreos with a preparation time (including whisking) of 2 hours.  They take 20 minutes to cook and in this mix there are 8 servings (scale ingredients up to increase the number of servings).

Ingredients

2 cups flour
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (plus more for dusting)
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
1 ¼ cups unsalted butter (at room temperature)
¾ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Filling Ingredients

½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
¼ cup unsweetened smooth peanut butter
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
A pinch of kosher salt (omit if using salted peanut butter)

Filling Instructions

(1) With a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, the butter & peanut butter until creamy.

(2) Gradually add powdered sugar and beat to combine, then beat in vanilla and salt.

Whisking the mix.

Instructions

(1) Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

(2) In small bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder & salt.

(3) In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Mix in the vanilla extract. With the mixer running on low speed, add the flour mixture and beat until just combined (it should remain somewhat crumbly).

(4) Pour mixture onto a work surface and knead until it’s “all together”; wrap half in plastic wrap and place in refrigerator.

(5) Lightly dust surface and the top of the dough with a 1:1 mixture of cocoa powder and powdered sugar.

(6) Working swiftly and carefully, roll out dough to a ¼-½ inch (6-12 mm) thickness and cut out 2 inch (50 mm) rounds.  Transfer them to the baking sheets, 1 inch (25 mm) apart (using a small offset spatula helps with this step). Re-roll scraps and cut out more rounds, the repeat with remaining half of the dough.

(7) Bake cookies until the tops are no longer shiny ( about 20 minutes), then cool on pan for 5 minutes before transferring to wire rack completely to cool.

(8) To assemble, place half the cookies on a plate or work surface.

(9) Pipe a blob of filling (about 2 teaspoons) onto the tops of each of these cookies and then place another cookie on top, pressing slightly but not to the extent filled oozes from the sides.

(10) Refrigerate for a few minutes to allow the filling to firm up.  Store in an air-tight container in refrigerator.

The manufacturer embraced the idea of peanut butter Oreos and has released versions, both with the classic cookie and a peanut butter & jelly (jam) variation paired with its “golden wafers”.  As well as Lindsay Lohan’s contribution, Oreos have attracted the interest of mathematicians.  Nabisco in 1974 introduced the Double Stuf Oreo, the clear implication being a promise the variety contained twice crème filling supplied in the original.  However, a mathematician undertook the research and determined Double Stuf Oreos contained only 1.86 times the volume of filling of a standard Oreo.  Despite that, the company survived the scandal and the Double Stuf Oreo’s recipe wasn’t adjusted.

Scandalous in its own way was that an April 2022 research paper published in the journal Physics of Fluids wasn’t awarded that year’s Ig Nobel Prize for physics, the honor taken by Frank Fish, Zhi-Ming Yuan, Minglu Chen, Laibing Jia, Chunyan Ji & Atilla Incecik, for their admittedly ground-breaking (or perhaps water-breaking) work in explaining how ducklings manage to swim in formation.  More deserving surely were Crystal Owens, Max Fan, John Hart & Gareth McKinley who introduced to physics the discipline of Oreology (the construct being Oreo + (o)logy).  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).  Oreology is the study of the flow and fracture of sandwich cookies and the research proved it is impossible to split the cream filling of an Oreo cookie down the middle.

An Oreo on a rheometer.

The core finding in Oreology was that the filling always adheres to one side of the wafer, no matter how quickly one or both cookies are twisted.  Using a rheometer (a laboratory instrument used to measure the way in which a viscous fluid (a liquid, suspension or slurry) flows in response to applied forces), it was determined creme distribution upon cookie separation by torsional rotation is not a function of rate of rotation, creme filling height level, or flavor, but was mostly determined by the pre-existing level of adhesion between the creme and each wafer.  The research also noted that were there changes to the composition of the filling (such as the inclusion of peanut butter) would influence the change from adhesive to cohesive failure and presumably the specifics of the peanut butter chosen (smooth, crunchy, extra-crunchy, un-salted (although the organic varieties should behave in a similar way to their mass-market equivalents)) would have some effect because the fluid dynamics would change.  The expected extent of the change would be appear to be slight but until further research is performed, this can’t be confirmed.  The 33rd First Annual Ig Nobel Prize ceremony will (as a webcast) happen on Thursday 14 September 2023, at 18:00 pm (US eastern time).

Propinquity

Propinquity (pronounced proh-ping-kwi-tee)

(1) Nearness in place; proximity.

(2) Nearness of relation; kinship.

(3) Affinity of nature; similarity.

(4) Nearness in time (technical use only).

1350-1400: From the Old French propinquité (nearness in relation, kinship (and emerging in the early 1400s) nearness in place, physical nearness), from the Latin propinquitatem (nominative propinquitas) (nearness, vicinity; relationship, affinity) ," from propinquus (near, neighboring), from prope (near), the loss of the second -r- by dissimilation, from the primitive Indo-European propro (on and on, ever further), source also of the Sanskrit pra-pra (on and on), the Ancient Greek pro-pro (before, on and on), from the root per- (forward), hence "in front of, toward, near".  The signification of the suffix -inquus remains mysterious and the old synonym appropinquity is thankfully obsolete.  Propinquity is a noun and propinquitous & propinquitous are adjectives; the noun plural is propinquties.

In social psychology, propinquity is considered one of the main factors leading to interpersonal attraction.   Propinquity can mean physical proximity, a kinship between people, or a similarity in nature between things.  Two people working in the same office should tend to have a higher propinquity than those working further apart, just as two people with similar political beliefs should possess a higher propinquity than those whose beliefs differ.  The propinquity effect is the tendency for people to form friendships or romantic relationships with those whom they encounter most often.  The emergence of virtual social environments on the Internet has not necessarily reduced the effects of propinquity where it exists but online interactions have facilitated instant and close interactions with people despite a lack of material presence.  The changes in physical proximity people have begun widely to experience during the COVID-19 pandemic are thus one part of the many science experiments currently conducting themselves, affording researchers possibilities on a scale never seen before.

The Ball Rule: Nothing propinks like propinquity

George Ball with Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969), The White House, 1964.

It was the author Ian Fleming (1908-1964) who coined the phrase “nothing propinks like propinquity”, using it as a chapter title in Diamonds are Forever (1956) but it was George Ball (1909–1994), an undersecretary of state in the Kennedy (1961-1963) and Johnson (1963-1969) administrations who translated it to power-politics as the “Ball Rule” which states that “the more direct access one has to the source of power, the greater one’s power, no matter what ones title may actually be”.

Nixon and Kissinger, The White House.

Dr Henry Kissinger (b 1923; US national security advisor (NSA) 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977) was a fine student of history and a fast learner of the low skullduggery needed to succeed in Washington DC.  Although among the most influential of the national security advisors, he resented the independent advice coming from the State Department which he regarded as ill-informed, ineffectual and wrong-headed.  Although foreign policy under Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) was during his first administration (1969-1973) something of a "battle of the memoranda" as Kissinger and William Rogers (1913–2001; US secretary of state 1969-1973) struggled for supremacy, what proved ultimately most effective for Kissinger was that he was able to ensure the secretary's access to the president became  limited while his proximity remained constant.  In 1973 Kissinger replaced Rogers as secretary while continuing to serve as NSA; he had no interest in there being competition because he knew what could happen.

As some have found, propinquity to power can come at a cost: Lindsay Lohan with Harvey Weinstein (b 1952), Porto-Cervo, Italy.

Pre-dating Ball and even Fleming, an understanding of the relationship between someone’s proximity to the table of power and their gathering of its crumbs was useful in understanding the exercise of power in many systems and especially helpful to historians of the Third Reich in understanding the fluidity of actual authority in the Nazi state which transcended the constitutional structure.  Indeed, in some cases it wasn’t for some years after the end of the war that some of the implications of the ever-shifting power relationships came to be understood, tracked not only in terms of the influence exercised by Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) paladins but as a measure of the decline in the Führer’s authority as the fortunes of war turned against him.  There are many examples from the strange world of Hitler and his government which illustrate the operation of Ball’s rule.  While the accretion of power was not mono-casual and influenced by the personalities, their circumstances and ambitions, it was almost always the closeness to Hitler, real or merely perceived, which most dictated one's position in the ever-shifting power structure, something usually more important than actual titles or appointments.

Hitler with Keitel in Berlin.

Field Marshall Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; Head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the armed forces high command)) enjoyed (sic) close proximity to Hitler for the entire war yet such was his character and subservience to the Fuhrer that his standing in the military was progressively diminished, his authority never seen as anything but the conduit through which Hitler’s order’s passed.  Although on paper a power figure in the military and the state his power was illusory, it’s exercise dependent entirely on his closeness to the leader.  He was a cypher but Hitler, who after the devious machinations (typical of the Nazi state) which had removed other prospective candidates, had appointed himself commander-in-chief of the army and would have tolerated no other attitude.

Hitler with Göring at the Berghof.

Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi, Hitler's designated successor 1939-1945) was never under any illusion that all that he was in the Nazi State was due to his relationship with Hitler but it was enough for him that it be known; unlike many he never attempted to become part of the social entourage, the Fuhrer’s inner circle, apart for all else he found the food served "much too rotten for my taste" and the so many of the regulars "too dull".  His His authority declined as his failings in his many roles became obvious and he came to avoid being in Hitler’s presence to avoid recriminations.  As his distance from the leader became obvious, his powers, real and perceived, diminished and while he retained may impressive-sounding titles, even by the mid-point of the war, his actual authority to influence much was minimal.

Hitler with Bormann at the Berghof.

Martin Bormann (1900–1945; Nazi Party functionary 1927-1945, Secretary to Führer or Deputy Fuhrer 1933-1945) is the classic example of Ball’s Rule.  Along with Reichsführer SS Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945, head of the Schutzstaffel (SS) 1929-1945), Bormann was feared even by the most loyal Nazis, simply because his closeness to Hitler was notorious.  For most of the war, he was the one most often in Hitler’s presence and he controlled the access of others, few had the opportunity to increase their propinquity without his approval.  In the post-war years Bormann has often been depicted as "the secretary who manipulated Hitler" and while that contains some elements of truth, Hitler was not unaware of what was going on and there's little to suggest he was ever nudged in a direction he was reluctant to travel and the degree of isolation Bormann imposed he found most convivial because those excluded were those he had little wish to hear from.  

Hitler with Speer in the architect's "Bechstein house" on the Obersalzberg.

Albert Speer (1905–1981; Reich Minister of Armaments 1942-1945) became close to Hitler while court architect in the pre-war years.  He claimed, quite believably, that he was as close as Hitler ever came to having a friend and in his memoirs, actually documented the effect of Ball’s Rule, noting the waning of his authority as his relationship with the leader became increasingly distant.  His tale of the way others reacted to the way he and Hitler played out their strange association during and after Speer’s prolonged illness in 1944 is the definitive case study of the dynamic force the perceptions of an individual's degree of propinquity to the source of power can exert.  A number of historians have alluded to a particular tinge they found in the relationship between Speer and Hitler: what they called the "homoerotic".  There is something in this but it was certainly nothing sexual, just an understanding that to the very end (indeed for Speer, even after) the need for each of these emotionally stunted characters to feel the affection of the other was uniquely important for both.

Dynamometer

Dynamometer (pronounced dahy-nuh-mom-i-ter)

(1) A device for measuring mechanical force or muscular power (ergometer).

(2) A device for measuring mechanical power, especially one that measures the output or driving torque of a rotating machine.

1800–1810: A compound word, the construct being dynamo + meter.  Dynamo was ultimately from the Ancient Greek δύναμις (dúnamis; dynamis) (power) and meter has always been an expression of measure in some form and in English was borrowed from the French mètre, from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron) (measure).  What meter (also metre) originally measured was the structure of poetry (poetic measure) which in the Old English was meter (measure of versification) from the Latin metrum, from the Ancient Greek metron (meter, a verse; that by which anything is measured; measure, length, size, limit, proportion) ultimately from the primitive Indo-European root me- (measure).  Although the evidence is sketchy, it appears to have been re-borrowed in the early fourteenth century (after a three hundred-year lapse in recorded use) from the Old French mètre, with the specific sense of "metrical scheme in verse”, again from the Latin metrum.  Metre (and metre) was later adopted as the baseline unit of the metric system.  Dynamometer is a noun; the noun plural is dynamometers.

The modern meaning of dynamometer (measuring the power of engines) dates from 1882 and is short for dynamo-machine, from the German dynamoelektrischemaschine (dynamo-electric machine), coined in 1867 by its inventor, the German electrical engineer Werner Siemans (1816-1892). Dynamometers, almost universally referred to as dynos, are machines which simultaneously measure the torque and rotational speed (RPM) of an engine or other rotating prime-mover so specific power outs may be calculated.  On modern dynamometers, measures are displayed either as kilowatts (kW) or brake-horsepower (bhp).

Evolution of the Turbo-Panzer

Porsche 917 Flat 12 being run on factory dynamometer, Stuttgart, 1969.

During the last hundred years odd, the rules of motor sport have been written by an alphabet soup of regulatory bodies including the AIACR, the CSI, the FISA and the FIA and these bureaucrats have made many bad decisions, tending often to make things worse but every now and then, as an unintended consequence of their dopiness, something really good emerges.  The large displacement cars of the mid-1960s contested sports car racing in one of the classic eras in motorsport.  Everyone enjoyed the competition except the rule-making body (the CSI, the Commission Sportive Internationale) which, on flimsy pretexts which at the time fooled nobody, changed the rules for the International Championship of Makes for the racing seasons 1968-1971, restricting the production cars (of which 50 identical units had to have been made) to 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) engines with a 3.0 litre limit (183 cubic inch) for prototypes (which could be one-offs).  Bizarrely, the CSI even claimed this good idea would be attractive for manufacturers already building three litre engine for Formula One because they would be able to sell them (with a few adaptations), for use in endurance racing.  There’s no evidence the CSI ever asked the engine producers whether their highly-strung, bespoke Formula One power-plants, designed for 200 mile sprints, could be modified for endurance racing lasting sometimes 24 hours.  Soon aware there were unlikely to be many entries to support their latest bright idea, the CSI relented somewhat and allowed the participation of 5.0 litre sports cars as long as the homologation threshold of 50 units had been reached.  A production run of 50 made sense in the parallel universe of the CSI but made no economic sense to the manufacturers and, by 1968, entries were sparse and interest waning so the CSI grudgingly again relented, announcing the homologation number for the 5.0 litre cars would be reduced to 25.

The famous photograph of the 25 917s assembled for the CSI’s inspection outside the Porsche factory, Stuttgart, 1969.

This attracted Porsche, a long-time contestant in small-displacement racing which, funded by profits from their increasingly successful road-cars, sought to contest for outright victories in major events rather than just class trophies.  Porsche believed they had the basis for a five litre car in their three litre 908 which, although still in the early stages of development, had shown promise.  In a remarkable ten months, the parts for twenty-five cars were produced, three of which were assembled and presented to the CSI’s homologation inspectors.  Pettifogging though they were, the inspectors had a point when refusing certification, having before been tricked into believing Ferrari’s assurance of intent actually to build cars which never appeared.  They demanded to see twenty-five assembled, functional vehicles and Porsche did exactly that, in April 1969 parking the twenty-five in the factory forecourt, even offering the inspectors the chance to drive however many they wish.  The offer was declined and, honour apparently satisfied on both sides, the CSI granted homologation.  Thus, almost accidently, began the career of the Porsche 917, a machine which would come to dominate whatever series it contested and set records which would stand for decades, it’s retirement induced not by un-competitiveness but, predictably, by rule changes which rendered it illegal.  

917LH (Langheck (long tail)), Le Mans, 1969.

The ten month gestation was impressive but there were teething problems.  The fundamentals, the 908-based space-frame and the 4.5 (275 cubic inch) litre air-cooled flat-12 engine, essentially, two of Porsche’s 2.25 (137 cubic inch) litre flat-sixes joined together, were robust and reliable from the start but, the sudden jump in horsepower meant much higher speeds and it took some time to tame the problems of the car’s behaviour at high-speed.  Aerodynamics was then still an inexact science and the maximum speed the 917 was able to attain on Porsche’s test track was around 180 mph (290 km/h) but when unleashed on the circuits with long straights where over 210 mph (338 km/h) was possible the early cars could be lethally unstable.  The first breakthrough in aerodynamic dynamic was serendipitous.  After one high speed run during which the driver had noted (with alarm) the tendency of the rear end of the car to “wander from side to side”, it was noticed that while the front and central sections of the bodywork were plastered with squashed bugs, the fibreglass of the rear sections was a pristine white, the obvious conclusion drawn that while the airflow was inducing the desired degree of down-force on the front wheels, it was passing over the rear of body, thus the lift which induced the wandering.  Some improvisation with pieces of aluminium and much duct tape to create an ad-hoc, shorter, upswept tail transformed the behaviour and was the basis for what emerged from more extensive wind-tunnel testing by the factory as the 917K for Kurzheck (short-tail).

Porsche 917Ks, the original (rear) and the updated version with twin tail-fins, Le Mans, 1971.

The 917K proved a great success but the work in the wind tunnel continued, in 1971 producing a variant with a less upswept tail and vertical fins which bore some resemblance to those used by General Motors and Chrysler a decade earlier.  Then, the critics had derided the fins as “typical American excess” and “pointlessly decorative” but perhaps Detroit was onto something because Porsche found the 917’s fins optimized things by “cleaning” the air-flow over the tail section, the reduction in “buffeting” meaning the severity of the angles on the deck could be lessened, reducing the drag while maintaining down-force, allowing most of the top-speed earlier sacrificed in the quest for stability to be regained.

The Can-Am: A red Porsche 917/10 ahead of an orange McLaren M8F Chevrolet, Laguna Seca, 17 October 1971.  Two years to the day after this shot was taken, the first oil shock hit, dooming the series.

The engine however had been more-or-less right from day one and enlarged first to 4.9 litres (300 cubic inch) before eventually reaching the 5.0 limit at which point power was rated at 632 bhp, a useful increase from the original 520.  Thus configured, the 917 dominated sports car racing until banned by regulators.  However, the factory had an alternative development path to pursue, one mercifully almost untouched by the pettifoggers and that was the Canadian-American Challenge Cup (the Can-Am), run on North American circuits under Group 7 rules for unlimited displacement sports cars.  Actually, Group 7 rules consisted of little more than demanding four wheels, enveloping bodywork and two seats, the last of these rules interpreted liberally.  Not for nothing did the Can-Am come to be known as the “horsepower challenge cup” and had for years been dominated by the McLarens, running big-block Chevrolet V8s of increasing displacement and decreasing mass as aluminium replaced cast iron for the heaviest components.

The abortive Porsche flat-16.

In 1969, the Porsche factory dynamometer could handle an output of around 750 bhp, then thought ample but even 635 bhp wouldn’t be enough to take on the big V8s but, for technical reasons, it wasn’t possible to further to enlarge the flat-12, Porsche built a flat-16 which pushed their dynamometer beyond its limit, the new engine rated at 750 bhp because the factory didn’t have the means to measure output beyond that point.  Such a thing had happened before, resulting in an anomaly which wasn’t explained for some years.  In 1959 Daimler released their outstanding 4.5 litre (278 cubic inch) V8 but their dynamometer was more antiquated still, a pre-war device unable to produce a reading beyond 220 so that was the rating used, causing much surprise to those testing the only car in which it was ever installed, the rather dowdy Majestic Major (1959-1968).  The Majestic Major was quite hefty and reckoned to enjoy the aerodynamic properties of a small cottage yet it delivered performance which 220 bhp should not have been able to provide, something confirmed when one was fitted to a Jaguar Mark X.  Unfortunately, Jaguar choose not to use the Daimler V8 in the Mark X, instead enlarging the XK-six, dooming the car in the US market where a V8 version would likely have proved a great success.

The Can-Am: Porsche 917/10, Riverside, 1972.

Estimates at the time suggested the Porsche flat 16 delivered something like 785 bhp which in the Can-Am would have been competitive but the bulk of the rendered it unsuitable, the longer wheelbase necessitated for installation in a modified 917 chassis having such an adverse effect on the balance of the car Porsche instead resorted to forced aspiration, the turbocharged 917s becoming known as the turbopanzers.  Porsche bought a new dynamometer which revealed they generated around 1100 bhp in racing trim and 1580 when tuned for a qualifying sprint.  Thus, even when detuned for racing, the Can-Am 917s typically took to the tracks generating more horsepower than the Spitfires, Hurricanes and Messerschmitt which fought the Battle of Britain in 1940.  Unsurprisingly, the 917 won the Cam-Am title in 1972 and 1973, the reward for which was the same as that earlier delivered in Europe: a rule change effectively banning the thing.

The widow-maker: 1975 Porsche 930 with the surprisingly desirable (for some) “sunroof delete” option.

The experience gained in developing turbocharging was however put to good use, the 911 Turbo (930 the internal designation) introduced in 1975 originally as a homologation exercise (al la the earlier 911 RS Carrera) but so popular did it prove it was added to the list as a regular production model and one has been a permanent part of the catalogue almost continuously since.  The additional power and its sometimes sudden arrival meant the times early versions were famously twitchy at the limit (and such was the power those limits were easily found), gaining the machine the nickname “widow-maker”.  There was plenty of advice available for drivers, the most useful probably the instruction not to use the same technique when cornering as one might in a front-engined car and a caution that even if one had had a Volkswagen Beetle while a student, that experience might not be enough to prepare one for a Porsche Turbo.  Small things apparently could make a difference, one source suggesting those wishing to explore a 930’s limits should try to get one with the rare “sunroof delete” option, the lack of the additional weight up there slightly improving the centre of gravity to the extent one could be travelling a little faster before the tail-heavy beast misbehaved.  It may be an urban myth but is vaguely plausible although, at best it would seem only to delay the inevitable.

In what may have been a consequence of the instability induced by a higher centre of gravity, in 2012 Lindsay Lohan crashed a sunroof equipped Porsche 911 Carrera S on the Pacific Coast Highway in Santa Monica, Los Angeles.  Clearly, Ms Lohan should avoid driving Porsches with sunroofs.

Psychopath

Psychopath (pronounced sahy-kuh-path)

(1) A person with a psychopathic personality, which manifests as amoral and antisocial behavior, lack of ability to love or establish meaningful personal relationships and an extreme egocentricity with a complete inability to feel guilt.  The condition is associated with a personality disorder indicated by a pattern of lying, cunning, manipulating, glibness, exploiting, heedlessness, arrogance, delusions of grandeur, carelessness, low self-control, disregard for morality, lack of acceptance of responsibility, callousness, and lack of empathy and remorse.  Such individuals can be particularly prone to destructive behavior (which can include violence and criminality although such people are a small percentage of the total number).

(2) In figurative use, a person with no moral conscience who perpetrates especially gruesome or bizarre violent acts (not accurate in a clinical sense but widely portrayed in popular culture).

(3) A person diagnosed with antisocial or dissocial personality disorder.

(4) A person diagnosed with any mental disorder (obsolete but something to be noted when handling historic medial notes).

1800s: The construct was psycho + path, a back-formation from psychopathic, used originally in German medical texts and most associated (and first noted in 1885) in the field of criminal psychology but later found to have pre-existed amongst spiritualists although in another sense.  Technically, it was an English borrowing from the German psychopatisch, the construct being psycho, from the Ancient Greek ψυχή (psukhḗ) (mind, spirit, consciousness; mental processes; the human soul; breath of life; literally, “that which breathes” or “breathing”) + πάθος (páthos) (suffering).  An 1885 Russian murder case was briefly notorious in the English-speaking world and brought the word into currency in the modern sense but it had been used in German medical literature from the early-nineteenth century.  Psychopath, psychopathography & psychopathy are nouns, psychopathic is a noun & adjective, psychopathological is an adjective and psychopathically is an adverb; the noun plural is psychopaths.

In popular culture the word "psycho" (the added -o- used to create a form meaning “person with characteristic”) is an informal reference which suggests someone is a psychopath or exhibits psychopathic tendencies.  Some sources list it as "offensive or disparaging" and it certainly is used in that sense but it's applied also in a jocular or affectionate manner.  Rarely, one suspects, are those thus described even close to being psychopaths in the clinical sense and it's often treated as a synonym for “highly strung”.  Among those either self-aware or rather dramatic, “psycho” is also used to self label.

Towards a standardized definition

Between the World Health Organization’s (WHO) International Classification of Diseases (ICD) and the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), there have always been differences although during the last two decades, there has been a general convergence in an attempt to render them at least broadly comparable.  The DSM is an interesting study in mission-creep, the 1952 slim original of 65 pages growing, by 2022’s DSM-5-TR, to a hefty tome of 1120, having morphed from a convenient tool for state hospital statistical reporting into a definitive codification of the mental condition in the form of diagnostic criteria.

Are you a psychopath or sociopath?  Complete this test

Although DSM-1 had what would now be thought a surprisingly broad category on sociopathic personality disturbances, including conditions now normalized, DSM-5 doesn’t include either psychopathy or sociopathy in their systems of categorization.  Instead, while both manuals make references to psychopaths and sociopaths, the ICD groups them in a category called dissocial personality disorder (DPD) while the DSM adopted antisocial personality disorder (ASPD).  Revisions to the DSM are compiled by a committee of clinicians which includes not only psychiatrists and psychologists but others such as sociologists.  The sociological faction argued empathy was not something that could be quantified by a doctor, that it was too subjective and that sticking to the overt traits which had been agreed upon for the ASPD definition was what should be all that is offered.  Psychopathy was therefore included under the ASPD diagnosis.

Between editions of the DSM, neither the diagnostic changes, nor the methods of decision are anything new or unusual and re-labelling is common, reflecting an increasing interest in attempts to de-stigmatize conditions.  Thus manic depressive disorder became bipolar disorder and intellectual disabilities are no longer termed mental retardation, a reaction to the abuse of clinical language in popular culture.  There is usually at least a small change in the diagnostic criteria for the diagnosis when the diagnostic label is changed but that’s just a glossy scientific veneer; ASPD is essentially the same as psychopathic personality disorder or sociopathic personality disorder, with only small changes to diagnostic criteria over the last several decades.

Curiously there is evidence to suggest the public take more care when making distinctions in the use of the terms psychopath & sociopath than many clinicians, the words by them used sometimes interchangeably to describe individuals with antisocial personality traits.  That’s not universal and while some professionals use them as synonyms, others make subtle differences in emphasis:

(1) Emphasis on Internal Factors: Some suggest psychopathy is primarily associated with innate personality traits such as lack of empathy, superficial charm, and a sense of the grandiose.  Underlying this is the argument psychopaths are born with these traits which at least implies the condition is largely biologically determined; a thing of nature.  By contrast, sociopathy is thought influenced more by external factors, such as upbringing, environment, and social learning; a thing of nurture.

(2) Focus on Antisocial Behaviors: Another school of thought suggests psychopathy is characterized by a manipulative and predatory nature, psychopaths often engaging in calculated, premeditated acts of harm and in this they tend often to be adept at mimicking emotions to manipulate others for personal gain. Under this model, sociopathy reflects more erratic and impulsive behaviors, sociopaths acting instinctually in response to immediate urges or emotional reactions and not of necessity planning their actions.

However, between clinicians there are those who find such distinctions helpful, those who find them interesting and those who think them merely speculative or even pointless.  In clinical practice, the diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) is typically used to encompass both psychopathy and sociopathy, as defined by the diagnostic criteria outlined in the DSM.