Chair

Chair (pronounced cherr)

(1) A seat, especially if designed for one person, usually with four legs (though other designs are not uncommon) for support and a rest for the back, sometimes with rests for the arms (as distinct from a sofa, stool, bench etc).

(2) Something which serves as a chair or provides chair-like support (often used in of specialized medical devices) and coined as required (chairlift, sedan chair, wheelchair etc).

(3) A seat of office or authority; a position of authority such as a judge.

(4) In academic use, a descriptor of a professorship.

(5) The person occupying a seat of office, especially the chairperson (the nominally gendered term “chairman” sometimes still used, even of female or non-defined chairs).

(6) In an orchestra, the position of a player, assigned by rank (1^st chair, 2^nd chair etc).

(7) In informal use, an ellipsis of electric chair (often in the phrase “Got the chair” (ie received a death sentence)).

(8) In structural engineering, the device used in reinforced-concrete construction to maintain the position of reinforcing rods or strands during the pouring operation.

(9) In glass-blowing, a glassmaker's bench having extended arms on which a blowpipe is rolled in shaping glass.

(10) In railroad construction, a metal block for supporting a rail and securing it to a crosstie or the like (mostly UK).

(11) To place or seat in a chair.

(12) To install in office.

(13) To preside over a committee, board, tribunal etc or some ad hoc gathering; to act as a chairperson.

(14) To carry someone aloft in a sitting position after a triumph or great achievement (mostly UK and performed after victories in sport).

(15) In chemistry, one of two possible conformers of cyclohexane rings (the other being boat), shaped roughly like a chair.

(16) A vehicle for one person; either a sedan chair borne upon poles, or a two-wheeled carriage drawn by one horse (also called a gig) (now rare).

(17) To award a chair to the winning poet at an eisteddfod (exclusive to Wales).

1250-1300: From the Middle English chayer, chaire, chaiere, chaere, chayre & chayere, from the Old French chaiere & chaere (chair, seat, throne), from the Latin cathedra (seat), from the Ancient Greek καθέδρα (kathédra), the construct being κατά (katá) (down) + ἕδρα (hédra) (seat).  It displaced the native stool and settle, which shifted to specific meanings.  The twelfth century modern French chaire (pulpit, throne) in the sixteenth century separated in meaning when the more furniture came to be known as a chaise (chair).  Chair is a noun & verb and chaired & chairing are verbs; the noun plural is chairs.

The figurative sense of "seat of office or authority" emerged at the turn of the fourteenth century and originally was used of professors & bishops (there once being rather more overlap between universities and the Church).  That use persisted despite the structural changes in both institutions but it wasn’t until 1816 the meaning “office of a professor” was extended from the mid-fifteenth century sense of the literal seat from which a professor conducted his lectures.  Borrowing from academic practice, the general sense of “seat of a person presiding at meeting” emerged during the 1640s and from this developed the idea of a chairman, although earliest use of the verb form “to chair a meeting” appears as late as 1921.  Although sometimes cited as indicative of the “top-down” approach taken by second-wave feminism, although it was in the 1980s that the term chairwoman (woman who leads a formal meeting) first attained general currency, it had actually been in use since 1699, a coining apparently thought needed for mere descriptive accuracy rather than an early shot in the culture wars, chairman (occupier of a chair of authority) having been in use since the 1650s and by circa 1730 it had gained the familiar meaning “member of a corporate body appointed to preside at meetings of boards or other supervisor bodies”.  By the 1970s however, the culture wars had started and the once innocuous “chairwoman” was to some controversial, as was the gender-neutral alternative “chairperson” which seems first to have appeared in 1971.  Now, most seem to have settled on “chair" which seems unobjectionable although presumably, linguistic structuralists could claim it’s a clipping of (and therefore implies) “chairman”.

Chairbox offers a range of “last shift” coffin-themed chairs, said to be ideal for those "stuck in a dead-end job, sitting on a chair in a cubicle".  The available finishes include walnut (left) and for those who enjoy being reminded of cremation, charcoal wood can be used for the seating area (right).  An indicative list price is Stg£8300 (US$10,400) for a Last Shift trimmed in velvet.

The slang use as a short form of electric chair dates from 1900 and was used to refer both to the physical device and the capital sentence.  In interior decorating, the chair-rail was a timber molding fastened to a wall at such a height as would prevent the wall being damaged by the backs of chairs.  First documented in 1822, chair rails are now made also from synthetic materials.  The noun wheelchair (also wheel-chair) dates from circa 1700, and one so confined is said sometimes to be “chair bound”.  The high-chair (an infant’s seat designed to make feeding easier) had probably been improvised for centuries but was first advertised in 1848.  The term easy chair (a chair designed especially for comfort) dates from 1707.  The armchair (also arm-chair), a "chair with rests for the elbows", although a design of long-standing, was first so-described in the 1630s and the name outlasted the contemporary alternative (elbow-chair).  The adjectival sense, in reference to “criticism of matters in which the critic takes no active part” (armchair critic, armchair general etc) dates from 1879.  In academic use, although in the English-speaking world the use of “professor” seems gradually to be changing to align with US practice, the term “chair” continues in its traditional forms: There are chairs (established professorships), named chairs (which can be ancient or more recent creations which acknowledge the individual, family or institution providing the endowment which funds the position), personal chairs (whereby the title professor (in some form) is conferred on an individual although no established position exists), honorary chairs (unpaid appointments) and even temporary chairs (which means whatever the institution from time-to-time says it means).

In universities, the term “named chair” refers usually to a professorship endowed with funds from a donor, typically bearing the name of the donor or whatever title they nominate and the institution agrees is appropriate.  On rare occasions, named chairs have been created to honor an academic figure of great distinction (usually someone with a strong connection with the institution) but more often the system exists to encourage endowments which provide financial support for the chair holder's salary, research, and other academic activities.  For a donor, it’s a matter both of legacy & philanthropy in that a named chair is one of the more subtle and potentially respectable forms of public relations and a way to contribute to teaching & research in a field of some interest or with a previous association.

Professor Michael Simons (official photograph issued by Yale University's School of Medicine).

So it can be a win-win situation but institutions do need to practice due diligence in the process of naming or making appointments to named chairs as a long running matter at Yale University demonstrates.  In 2013, an enquiry convened by Yale found Professor Michael Simons (b 1957) guilty of sexual harassment and suspended him as Chief of Cardiology at the School of Medicine.  Five years on, the professor accused Yale of “punishing him again” for the same conduct in a gender-discriminatory effort to appease campus supporters of the #MeToo movement which had achieved national prominence.  That complaint was prompted when Professor Simons was in 2018 appointed to, and then asked to resign from a named chair, the Robert W Berliner Professor of Medicine, endowed by an annual grant of US$500,000 from the family of renal physiologist, Robert Berliner (1915-2002).  Professor Simons took his case to court and early in 2024 at a sitting of federal court ruled, he obtained a ruling in his favour, permitting him to move to trial, Yale’s motion seeing a summary judgment in all matters denied, the judge fining it appropriate that two of his complaints (one on the basis of gender discrimination in violation of Title VII of the Civil Rights Act (1964) and one under Title IX of the Education Amendments Act (1972)) should be heard before a jury.  The trial judge noted in his judgment that there appeared to be a denial of due process in 1918 and that happened at a time when (as was not disputed), Yale was “the subject of news reports criticizing its decision to reward a sexual harasser with an endowed chair.”

What the documents presented in Federal court revealed was that Yale’s handling of the matter had even within the institution not without criticism.  In 2013 the University-Wide Committee on Sexual Misconduct found the professor guilty of sexual harassment and he was suspended (but not removed) as chief of cardiology at the School of Medicine.  Internal documents subsequently leaked to the New York Times (NYT) revealed there were 18 faculty members dissatisfied with that outcome and a week after the NYT sought comment from Yale, it was announced Simons would be removed from the position entirely and in November 2014, the paper reported that Yale had also removed him from his position as director of its Cardiovascular Research Center.  Simons alleges that these two additional actions were taken in response to public reaction to the stories published by the NYT but the university disputed that, arguing the subsequent moves were pursuant to the findings of an internal “360 review” of his job performance.  In 2018, Simons was asked to relinquish the Berliner chair on the basis he would be appointed instead to another endowed chair.  In the documents Simons filed in Federal Court, this request came after “one or more persons … sympathetic to the #MeToo movement” contacted the Berliner family encouraging them to demand that the University remove Simons from the professorship, prompting Yale, “fearing a backlash from the #MeToo activists and hoping to placate them,” to “began exploring” his removal from the chair.

School of Medicine, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut, USA.

Later in 2018, Simons was duly appointed to another named chair, prompting faculty members, students and alumni to send an open letter to Yale’s president expressing “disgust and disappointment” at the appointment.  The president responded with a formal notice to Simmons informing him he had 24 hours to resign from the chair, and Simmons also alleges he was told by the president of “concerns” the institution had about the public criticism.  In October 2019, Simons filed suit against Yale (and a number of individuals) on seven counts: breach of contract, breach of the implied warranty of fair dealing, wrongful discharge, negligent infliction of emotional distress, breach of privacy, and discrimination on the basis of gender under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972.   Three of these (wrongful discharge, negligent infliction of emotional distress and breach of privacy) were in 2020 struck-out in Federal Court and this was the point at which Yale sought summary judgment for the remainder.  This was partially granted but the judge held that the matter of gender discrimination in violation of Title VII and Title IX needed to be decided by a jury.  A trial date has not yet been set but it will be followed with some interest.  While all cases are decided on the facts presented, it’s expected the matter may be an indication of the current state of the relative strength of “black letter law” versus “prevailing community expectations”.

Personal chair: Lindsay Lohan adorning a chair.

The Roman Catholic Church’s dogma of papal infallibility holds that a pope’s rulings on matters of faith and doctrine are infallibility correct and cannot be questioned.  When making such statements, a pope is said to be speaking ex cathedra (literally “from the chair” (of the Apostle St Peter, the first pope)).  Although ex cathedra pronouncements had been issued since medieval times, as a point of canon law, the doctrine was codified first at the First Ecumenical Council of the Vatican (Vatican I; 1869–1870) in the document Pastor aeternus (shepherd forever).  Since Vatican I, the only ex cathedra decree has been Munificentissimus Deus (The most bountiful God), issued by Pius XII (1876–1958; pope 1939-1958) in 1950, in which was declared the dogma of the Assumption; that the Virgin Mary "having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory".  Pius XII never made explicit whether the assumption preceded or followed earthly death, a point no pope has since discussed although it would seem of some theological significance.  Prior to the solemn definition of 1870, there had been decrees issued ex cathedra.  In Ineffabilis Deus (Ineffable God (1854)), Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, an important point because of the theological necessity of Christ being born free of sin, a notion built upon by later theologians as the perpetual virginity of Mary.  It asserts that Mary "always a virgin, before, during and after the birth of Jesus Christ", explaining the biblical references to brothers of Jesus either as children of Joseph from a previous marriage, cousins of Jesus, or just folk closely associated with the Holy Family.

Technically, papal infallibility may have been invoked only the once since codification but since the early post-war years, pontiffs have found ways to achieve the same effect, John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) & Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) both adept at using what was in effect a personal decree a power available to one who sits at the apex of what is in constitutional terms an absolute theocracy.  Critics have called this phenomenon "creeping infallibility" and its intellectual underpinnings own much to the tireless efforts of Benedict XVI while he was head of the Inquisition (by then called the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) and now renamed the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF)) during the late twentieth century.  The Holy See probably doesn't care but DDF is also the acronym, inter-alia, for "drug & disease free" and (in gaming) "Doom definition file".  There's also the DDF Network which is an aggregator of pornography content.

The “chair” photo (1963) of Christine Keeler (1942-2017) by Hong Kong Chinese photographer Lewis Morley (1925-2013) (left) and Joanne Whalley-Kilmer (b 1961) in Scandal (1989, a Harvey Weinstein (b 1952) production) (centre).  The motif was reprised by Taiwanese-American photographer Yu Tsai (b 1975) in his sessions for the Lindsay Lohan Playboy photo-shoot; it was used for the cover of the magazine’s January/February 2012 issue (right).  Ms Lohan wore shoes for some of the shoot but these were still "nudes" because "shoes don't count"; everybody knows that. 

The Profumo affair was one of those fits of morality which from time-to-time would afflict English society in the twentieth century and was a marvellous mix of class, sex, spying & money, all things which make an already good scandal especially juicy.  The famous image of model Christine Keeler, nude and artfully positioned sitting backwards on an unexceptional (actually a knock-off) plywood chair, was taken in May 1963, during the moral panic over the disclosure the young lady simultaneously was enjoying the affection of both a member of the British cabinet and a Soviet spy.  John Profumo (1915-2006) was the UK’s Minister for War (the UK cabinet retained the position until 1964 although it was dis-established in the US in 1947) who, then 46, was found to be conducting an adulterous affair with the then 19 year old topless model at the same time she (presumably as her obviously crowded schedule permitted) fitted in trysts with a KGB agent, attached to the Soviet embassy with the cover of naval attaché.  Although there are to this day differing interpretations of the scandal, there have never been any doubts this potential Cold-War conduit between Moscow and Her Majesty’s Secretary of State for War represented at least a potential conflict of interest.  The fallout from the scandal ended Profumo’s political career, contributed to the fall of Harold Macmillan’s (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) government and was one of a number of the factors in the social changes which marked English society in the 1960s.  Commendably, the former Grenadier Guards captain's sang froid didn't desert him: woken from his sleep to be told the scandal was about to break, he remarked: "Well, at least it was with a woman".  That line was for years quoted approvingly and it was only when the old Etonian's bisexuality became common knowledge it was re-appraised.   

Commercially & technically, photography then was a different business and the “chair” image was the last shot on a 12-exposure film, all taken in less than five minutes at the end of a session which hurriedly had been arranged because Ms Keeler had signed a contract which included a “nudity” clause for photos to be used as “publicity stills” for a proposed film about the scandal.  As things turned out, the film was never released (not until Scandal (1989) one would appear) but the photograph was leaked to the tabloid press, becoming one of the more famous of the era although later feminist critiques would deconstruct the issues of exploitation they claimed were inherent.  Playboy’s editors would not be unaware of the criticism but the use of a chair to render a nude image SFW (suitable for work) remains in the SOP (standard operating procedures) manual.

Contact sheet from photoshoot, Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum: exhibit E.2830-2016.

Before the “nude” part which concluded the session, two rolls of film had already been shot with the subject sitting in various positions (on the chair and the floor) while “wearing” a small leather jerkin.  At that point the film’s producers mentioned the “nude” clause.  Ms Keeler wasn’t enthusiastic but the producers insisted so all except subject and photographer left the room and the last roll was shot, some of the earlier poses reprised while others were staged, the last, taken with the camera a little further away with the subject in what Mr Morley described as “a perfect positioning”, was the “chair” shot.

The “Keeler Chair” (left) and an Arne Jacobsen Model 3107 (right).

Both chair & the gelatin-silver print of the photograph are now in the collections of London’s Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum (the photograph exhibit E.2-2002; the chair W.10-2013).  Although often wrongly identified a Model 3107 (1955) by Danish modernist architect & furniture designer Arne Jacobsen (1902-1971), it’s actually an example of one of a number of inexpensive knock-offs produced in the era.  Mr Morley in 1962 bought six (at five shillings (50c) apiece) for his studio and it’s believed his were made in Denmark although the identity of the designer or manufacturer are unknown.  Unlike a genuine 3107, the knock-off has a handle cut-out (in a shape close to a regular trapezoid) high on the back, an addition both functional and ploy typical of those used by knock-off producers seeking to evade accusations of violations of copyright.  Structurally, a 3017 uses a thinner grade of plywood and a more subtle molding.  The half-dozen chairs in Mr Morley’s studio were mostly unnoticed office furniture until Ms Keeler lent one its infamy although they did appear in others of his shoots including those from his session with television personality & interviewer Sir David Frost (1939–2013) and it’s claimed the same chair was used for both.  In London’s second-hand shops it’s still common to see the knock-offs (there were many) described as “Keeler” chairs and Ms Lohan’s playboy shoot was one of many in which the motif has been used.  The obvious choice of pose for Joanne Whalley-Kilmer’s promotional shots for the 1989 film in which she played Ms Keeler, it appeared also on the the covers of the DVD & Blu-ray releases 

Old Smoky, the electric chair once used in the Tennessee prison system, Alcatraz East Crime Museum.  "Old Sparky" was once the preferred but in modern use "the chair" seems to have prevailed.

"Then we'd get the chair": The Simpsons, season six.

Crooked Hillary Clinton in pantsuit.

Although the numbers did bounce around a little, polling by politico.com found that typically about half of Republican voters believe crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) should be locked up while fewer than 2% think she should “get the chair”, apparently on the basis of her being guilty of something although some might just find her “really annoying” and take the pragmatic view a death sentence would remove at least that problem from their life.  The term “electric chair” is most associated with the device used for executions but is also common slang to describe other machinery including electric wheelchairs and powered (heat, cooling or movement) seats or chairs of many types.  First used in the US during the 1890s, like the guillotine, the electric chair was designed as a more humane (ie faster) method of execution compared with the then common hanging where death could take minutes.  Now rarely used (and in some cases declared unconstitutional as a “cruel & unusual punishment”), in some US states, technically it remains available including as an option the condemned may choose in preference to lethal injection or the firing squad.  Interestingly, although during the successful 2016 campaign, Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) made much of "locking up" crooked Hillary were he to be elected, once in the White House, the usefulness of the "promise" was exhausted.  His supporters however expected a prosecution and journalists did whether he would order investigations into the conduct of Bill  (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) and crooked Hillary.  He replied with a perfunctory shake of the head and an almost mumbled "No, they're good people" and that was the end of that.  It was an interesting insight into many aspects of Mr Trump's character and political techniques.    

Electric Chair Suite (1971) screen print decalogy by Andy Warhol.

Based on a newspaper photograph (published in 1953) of the death chamber at Sing Sing Prison in New York, where US citizens Julius (1918-1953) & Ethel Rosenberg (1915-1953) were that year executed as spies, Andy Warhol (1928–1987) produced a number of versions of Electric Chair, part of the artist’s Death and Disaster series which, beginning in 1963, depicted imagery such as car crashes, suicides and urban unrest.  The series was among the many which exploited his technique of transferring a photograph in glue onto silk, a method which meant each varied in some slight way.  His interest was two-fold: (1) what is the effect on the audience of render the same image with variations and (2) if truly gruesome pictures repeatedly are displayed, is the effect one of reinforcement or desensitization?  His second question was later revisited as the gratuitous repetition of disturbing images became more common as the substantially unmediated internet achieved critical mass.  The first of the Electric Chair works was created in 1964.

Pontiff

Pontiff (pronounced pon-tif)

(1) In historic pagan use, any pontifex, high or chief priest.

(2) In historic ecclesiastical use, a bishop.

(3) In modern use, the Roman Catholic Pope, the Bishop of Rome.

1600–1610: From the Middle French pontife, from the Latin pontifex.  The form "pontiff" which emerged in the early 1600s preserved the earlier (pagan) meaning "high priest", from the French pontif, also ultimately from the Latin pontifex (a title used by a Roman high priest).  It was used to refer to the office of bishop in Church Latin but appears not to have been recorded in that sense in English until the 1670s and then, only specifically to "the Bishop of Rome" (ie the Roman Catholic Pope), the Roman Catholic Pope. Pontifical was however used in that sense from the mid fifteenth century but it's now exclusively an alternative name for a pope.  Not any pope however; it’s never used with reference to the Coptic Pope.  The Latin pontifex meant literally “bridge builder”, the construct being pōns (bridge) +‎ fex (suffix representing a maker or producer).  It was used as a title for some of the more senior pagan priests of Ancient Rome, the consensus being it was adopted as a metaphorical device to suggest “one who negotiates between gods and men” although at least one scholar of antiquity suggested the relationship was close to literal in that the social class which supplied the priests was more or less identical with engineers responsible for building bridges.  That may seem more a sociological than theological point but for structural functionalists and other realists, such distinctions seem a bit naff.  More recent research revealed that in many cases the priests either owned the bridges or had some sort of right to levy taxes or fees for traffic using "their" bridge.

Pontifical promotion: Lindsay Lohan in 2019 flirted with an eternity in Hell by purloining a picture of Pope Francis to promote her song Xanax.  The image was taken in 2013, during a visit to the National Shrine of Our Lady Aparecida in Brazil while he was conducting communion.  Captioned “Blessed be the Fruit”, the meme has a digitally altered image of Francis holding up a copy of her debut album Speak (2005) and in the language of the MBAs would probably be classified as a kind of “ambush marketing”.  The prospect of damnation must have been considered but when one has a dropped tune to promote, risks must be taken.

Theodosius I (347–395) was the last Roman Emperor (379-395) to rule both the eastern and western "halves" of the Roman Empire.  Once, on his travels he fell so ill that death seemed inevitable but, upon being baptised, he staged an astonishing recovery and reached Constantinople a devout Christian.  Immediately he set about removing the last vestiges of paganism from the Empire.  It wasn’t the first imperial intervention against paganism.  Earlier, the Emperor Gratian (359–383) had refused the traditional title Pontifex Maximus (chief priest of the state religion) because his bishop thought it unworthy for a Christian emperor to accept a pagan honour, even though it had been worn by emperors since Constantine (circa 272–337).  However, although the Church may have disapproved of pagan baubles for others, by 590, Pope Gregory I (circa 540–604) decided it was fine for him and granted it to himself, explaining a pope was the “…chief priest of Christianity” and that Constantine had claimed to be the “bishop of bishops”, a role long since assumed by popes.  It’s from here the word pontiff evolved into its modern form.

Pope Pius VIII (1761-1830) being carried in Saint Peter's on the Sedia Gestatoria (circa 1825), wearing the papal triple tiara (triple crown) by Emile Jean Horace Vernet (1789-1863).

The sedia gestatoria (gestatorial chair, literally translated from the Italian as "chair for carrying") was the ceremonial throne on which the Pope, pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church, was carried on shoulders of courtiers.  An enlarged and elaborate version of the sedan chair, it was constructed with a silk-covered armchair attached to a suppedaneum, on each side of which were two gilded rings; through these passed the long rods with which twelve palafrenieri (footmen) carried the chair on their shoulders.  With origins in antiquity, the sedia gestatoria was for almost a millennium used to convey popes during the grandest of ceremonial occasions in the Basilica of St John Lateran & St Peter's Basilica and, beyond the Holy See, somewhat less grand sedia gestatoria were used by cardinals and others, given sometimes with the blessing of the pope as an expression of especial favor.  Used also by Byzantine emperors, the concept and much of the design was borrowed from the sedias of the Roman Empire although there, use was a little less exclusive, high officials as well as emperors enjoying the distinction and some fun was made of rich individuals (who held no public office) arranging their own.

Pope Benedict XVI in Popemobile passing 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (the White House), Washington DC, April 2008.  This Popemobile was based on a Mercedes-Benz ML 430 (W163), powered by a 4.3 litre (260 cubic inch) V8 (M113).

For their public appearances, popes have been driven a variety of vehicles ranging from a Leyland truck to a Ferrari Mondial Cabriolet (1982-1993), the latter believed to be the fastest of the Popemobiles.  Although most associated with the need to provide protection against assassination, the Popemobiles replaced the sedia gestatoria because, although trips such as Benedict's to White House would have been possible with the traditional chair carried by a dozen, attractive young palafrenieri, it would have been time-consuming.  Pope John Paul I (1912–1978; pope August-September 1978) was the last to use the sedia gestatoria and even he had resisted, preferring to walk, acceding only because without the elevated platform, his visibility to the crowd and the television cameras would be so limited.  Pope John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005), the first non-Italian pontiff in over four-hundred years, vetoed the idea of being carried on shoulders and alternatives were created, evolving into the increasingly armored Popemobiles.  The sedia gestatoria thus joined the papal tiara (triple crown) on the shelf of the retired symbols of the church of a grander age.

The Triple Tiara

Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent (circa 1545), woodcut by an unknown Venetian artist.  Historians suspect the depiction of the splendid jewel-studded helmet was substantially accurate but the object may simply have been too heavy safely to wear for all but static, set-piece events, the risk of injury to the neck too great.

The papal triple tiara is a crown which has been worn by popes of the Roman Catholic Church since the eighth century.  Traditionally it was worn for their coronation but no pontiff has been so crowned since Saint Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) in 1963 and he abandoned its use after the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965).  The name tiara refers to the entire headgear and it has used a three-tiered form since a third crown was added during the Avignon Papacy (1309–1378).  It's also referred to as the triregnum, triregno or Triple Crown.  In a piece of one- (or perhaps four-) upmanship, Suleiman I (Süleyman the Magnificent, 1494-1566, Sultan of the Ottoman Empire 1520-1566) commissioned from Venice a four tier helmet to show, in addition to the authority claimed by popes, he could add the symbol of his imperial power.  Often put on display as the centrepiece of Ottoman regalia to impress visitors, there's no documentary evidence the sultan ever wore the four layer tiara, crowns not part of the tradition and, fashioned from gold and gemstones, it would anyway have been extraordinarily heavy.

A representation of the triregnum combined with two crossed keys of Saint Peter continues to be used as a symbol of the papacy and appears on papal documents, buildings and insignia.  Remarkably, there’s no certainty about what the three crowns symbolize.  Some modern historians link it to the threefold authority of the pope, (1) universal pastor, (2) universal ecclesiastical jurisdiction and (3) temporal power.  Others, including many biblical scholars, interpret the three tiers as meaning (1) father of princes and kings, (2) ruler of the world and (3) vicar of Christ on Earth, a theory lent credence by the words once used when popes were crowned:  Accipe tiaram tribus coronis ornatam, et scias te esse patrem principum et regum, rectorem orbis in terra vicarium Salvatoris nostri Jesu Christi, cui est honor et gloria in saecula saeculorum (Receive the tiara adorned with three crowns and know that thou art father of princes and kings, ruler of the world, vicar on earth of our Savior Jesus Christ, to whom is honor and glory for ever and ever).

Documents in the Vatican Archive suggest by 1130 the papal tiara had been modified to become a conventional (and temporal) symbol of sovereignty over the Papal States.  In 1301 during a dispute with Philip IV (Philip the Fair, 1268–1314, King of France 1285-1314), Pope Boniface VIII (circa 1230–1303; pope 1294-1303) added a second layer to represent a pope’s spiritual authority being superior to an earthly king’s civil domain.  It was Benedict XII (1285–1342; pope 1334-1342 (as the third Avignon pope)) who in 1342 who added the third, said to symbolize the pope’s moral authority over all civil monarchs, and to reaffirm Avignon’s possession.  A changing world and the loss of the Papal States deprived the triple crown of temporal meaning but the silver tiara with the three golden crowns remained to represent the three powers of the Supreme Pontiff: Sacred Order, Jurisdiction and Magisterium.

Pope Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) in the papal triple tiara, at his coronation, 1939.

Not since 1963 has a pope worn the triple crown.  Then, the newly-elected Pope Saint Paul VI, at the end of his coronation, took the tiara from his head and, in what was said to be a display of humility, placed it on the altar.  In a practical expression of that humility, the tiara was auctioned; the money raised used for missionary work in Africa although, keeping things in house, the winning bidder was the Archdiocese of New York.  Popes Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) and Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) received tiaras as gifts but neither wore them.  Benedict’s, in a nice ecumenical touch, was made by Bulgarian craftsmen from the Orthodox Church in Sofia, a gesture in the name of Christian unity.  Benedict would have appreciated that, having always kept a candle burning in the window to tempt home the wandering daughter who ran off to Constantinople.

Lindsay Lohan, the wandering daughter who ran off to Dubai in Lynn Kiracofe tiara, W Magazine photo- shoot, April 2005.

Enthrone

Enthrone (pronounced en-throhn)

(1) To put on the throne in a formal installation ceremony (sometimes called an enthronement) which variously could be synonymous with (or simultaneously performed with) a coronation or other ceremonies of investiture.

(2) Figuratively in this context, to help a candidate to the succession of a monarchy or by extension in any other major organisation (ie the role of “kingmakers”, literal and otherwise).

(3) To invest with sovereign or episcopal authority (ie a legal instrument separate from any ceremony).

(4) To honour or exalt (now rare except in literary or poetic use).

(5) Figuratively, to assign authority to or vest authority in.

Circa 1600: The construct was en- + throne and the original meaning was “to place on a throne, exalt to the seat of royalty”.  For this purpose it replaced the late fourteenth century enthronize, from the thirteenth century Old French introniser, from the Late Latin inthronizare, from Greek the enthronizein.  In the late fourteenth century the verb throne (directly from the noun) was used in the same sense.  Throne (the chair or seat occupied by a sovereign, bishop or other exalted personage on ceremonial occasions) dates from the late twelfth century and was from the Middle English trone, from the Old French trone, from the Latin thronus, from the Ancient Greek θρόνος (thrónos) (chair, high-set seat, throne).  It replaced the earlier Middle English seld (seat, throne).  In facetious use, as early as the 1920s, throne could mean “a toilet” (used usually in the phrase “on the throne”) and in theology had the special use (in the plural and capitalized) describing the third (a member of an order of angels ranked above dominions and below cherubim) of the nine orders into which the angels traditionally were divided in medieval angelology.  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials b and p.  Enthrone, dethrone, enthronest & enthronize are verbs, enthronementm, enthronization & enthroner are nouns, enthroning is a noun & verb, enthroned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is enthronements.  The noun enthronable is non-standard.  The derived forms include the verb unenthrone, reenthrone & disenthrone and although there have been many enthroners, the form enthronee has never existed.

Alhaji Ibrahim Wogorie (b 1967) being enskinned as North Sisala community chief, Ghana, July 2023.

In colonial-era West Africa the coined forms were “enskin” (thus enskinment, enskinning, enskinned) and “enstool” (thus enstoolment, enstooling, enstooled).  These words were used to refer to the ceremonies in which a tribal chief was installed in his role; the meanings thus essentially the same as enjoyed in the West by “enthrone”.  The constructs reflected a mix of indigenous political culture and English morphological adaptation during the colonial period, the elements explained by (1) the animal skins (the distinctive cheetah often mentioned in the reports of contemporary anthropologists although in some Islamic and Sahelian-influenced chieftaincies (including the Dagomba, Mamprusi, Hausa emirates), a cow or lion skin often was the symbol of authority) which often surrounded the new chief and (2) the tradition in Africa of a chief sitting on a stool.  Sometimes, the unfortunate animal’s skin would be laid over the stool (and almost always, one seems to have been laid at the chief’s feet) but in some traditions (notably in northern Ghana and parts of Nigeria) it was a mark of honor for the chief to sit on a skin spread on the ground.

Dr Mahamudu Bawumia (b 1963), enstooled as Nana Ntentankesehene (Chief of the Internet/Web), Ghana, August 2024.  Note the cheetah skin used to trim the chair.

The stool was the central symbol of chieftaincy and kingship among Akan-speaking peoples (still in present-day Ghana where “to enskin” is used generally to mean “to install as a leader of a group” and the constitution (1992) explicitly protects the institution of chieftaincy and judicial decisions routinely use “enstool” or “enskin” (depending on region)).  In Akan political culture, the most famous use was the Sika Dwa Kofi (the Golden Stool) of the Asante and it represented the embodiment of the polity and ancestors, not merely a seat (used rather like the synecdoches “the Pentagon” (for the US Department of Defense (which appears now to be headed by a cabinet office who simultaneously is both Secretary of Defense & Secretary of War)) or “Downing Street” (for the UK prime-minister or the government generally).  Thus, to be “enstooled” is ritually to be placed into office as chief, inheriting the authority vested in the stool.  Enskin & enstool (both of which seem first to have appeared in the records of the Colonial Office in the 1880s and thus were products of the consolidation of British indirect rule in West Africa, rather than being survivals from earlier missionary English which also coined its own terms) were examples of semantic calquing (the English vocabulary reshaped to encode indigenous concepts) and, as it was under the Raj in India, it was practical administrative pragmatism, colonial officials needing precise (and standardized) terms that distinguished between different systems of authority.  In truth, they were also often part of classic colonial “fixes” in which the British would take existing ceremonies and add layers of ritual to afforce the idea of a chief as “their ruler” and within a couple of generations, sometimes the local population would talk of the newly elaborate ceremony as something dating back centuries; the “fix” was a form of constructed double-legitimization.

A classic colonial fix was the Bose Levu Vakaturaga (Great Council of Chiefs) in Fiji which the British administrators created in 1878.  While it's true that prior to European contact, there had been meetings between turaga (tribal chiefs) to settle disputes and for other purposes, all the evidence suggests they were ad-hoc appointments with little of the formality, pomp and circumstance the British introduced.  Still, it was a successful institution which the chiefs embraced, apparently with some enthusiasm because the cloaks and other accoutrements they adopted for the occasion became increasingly elaborate and it was a generally harmonious form of indigenous governance which enabled the British to conduct matters of administration and policy-making almost exclusively through the chiefs.  The council survived even after Fiji gained independence from Britain in 1970 until it was in 2012 abolished by the military government of Commodore Frank Bainimarama (b 1954; prime minister of Fiji 2007-2022), as part of reform programme said to be an attempt to reduce ethnic divisions and promote a unified national identity.  The commodore's political future would be more assured had he learned lessons from the Raj.

There was of course an element of racial hierarchy in all this and “enskin” & “enstool” denoted a “tribal chief” under British rule whereas “enthrone” might have been thought to imply some form of sovereignty because that was the linkage in Europe and that would never do.  What the colonial authorities wanted was to maintain the idea of “the stool” as a corporate symbol, the office the repository of the authority, not the individual.  The danger with using a term like “enthronement” was the population might be infected by the European notion of monarchy as a hereditary kingship with personal sovereignty; what the Europeans wanted was “a stool” and they would decide who would be enstooled, destooled or restooled. 

Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi, Moses Mabhida Stadium, Durban, South Africa, October 2022.

English words and their connotations did continue to matter in the post-colonial world because although the colonizers might have departed, often the legacy of language remained, sometimes as an “official” language of government and administration.  In the 1990s, the office of South Africa’s Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi (1928–2023) sent a series of letters to the world’s media outlets advising he should be styled as “Prince” and not “Chief”, on the basis of being the grandson of one Zulu king and the nephew of another.  The Zulus were once described as a “tribe” and while that reflected the use in ethnography, the appeal in the West was really that it represented a rung on the racist hierarchy of civilization, the preferred model being: white people have nations or states, Africans cluster in tribes or clans.  The colonial administrators recognized these groups had leaders and typically they used the style “chief” (from the Middle English cheef & chef, from the Old French chef & chief (leader), from the Vulgar Latin capus, from the Classical Latin caput (head), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the primitive Indo-European káput).  As the colonial records make clear, there were “good” chiefs and “troublesome” chiefs, thus the need sometimes to arrange a replacement enstooling.

Unlike in the West where styles of address and orders of precedence were codified (indeed, somewhat fetishized), the traditions in Africa seem to have been more fluid and Mangosuthu Buthelezi didn’t rely on statute or even documented convention when requesting the change.  Instead, he explained “prince” reflected his Zulu royal lineage not only was appropriate (he may have cast an envious eye at the many Nigerian princes) but was also commonly used as his style by South African media, some organs or government and certainly his own Zulu-based political party (IQembu leNkatha yeNkululeko (the IPF; Inkatha Freedom Party).  He had in 1953 assumed the Inkosi (chieftainship) of the Buthelezi clan, something officially recognized four year laters by Pretoria although not until the early 1980s (when it was thought he might be useful as a wedge to drive into the ANC (African National Congress) does the Apartheid-era government seem to have started referring to him as “prince”).  Despite that cynical semi-concession, there was never a formal re-designation.

Enthroned & installed: Lindsay Lohan in acrylic & rhinestone tiara during “prom queen scene” in Mean Girls (2004).

In the matter of prom queens and such, it’s correct to say there has been “an enthronement” because even in the absence of a physical throne (in the sense of “a chair”), the accession is marked by the announcement and the placing of the crown or tiara.  This differs from something like the “enthroning” of a king or queen in the UK because, constitutionally, there is no interregnum, the new assuming the title as the old took their last breath and “enthronement” is a term reserved casually to apply to the coronation.  Since the early twentieth century, the palace and government have contrived to make an elaborate “made for television” ceremony although it has constitutional significance beyond the rituals related to the sovereign’s role as Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Dame Sarah Mullally in the regalia of Bishop of London; in January 2026, she will take office as Archbishop of Canterbury, the formal installation in March.  No longer one of the world's more desirable jobs (essentially because it can't be done), all wish her the best of British luck.

In October 2025, the matter of enthronement (or, more correctly, non-enthronement) in the Church of England made a brief splash in some of the less explored corners of social media after it was announced the ceremony marking the accession of the next Archbishop of Canterbury would be conducted in Canterbury Cathedral in March 2026.  The announcement was unexceptional in that it was expected and for centuries Archbishops of Canterbury have come and gone (although the last one was declared gone rather sooner than expected) but what attracted some comment was the new appointee was to be “installed” rather than the once traditional “enthroned”.  The conclusion some drew was this apparent relegation was related to the next archbishop being Dame Sarah Mullally (née Bowser; b 1962) the first woman to hold the once desirable job, the previous 105 prelates having been men, the first, Saint Augustine of Canterbury (circa 630s-circa 604) in 597 (not to be confused with the still influential Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430)).

Despite the suspicions the event was being in some way "devalued" because a woman got the job, there is in the church no substantive legal or theological significance in the use of “installed” rather than “enthroned” and the choice reflects modern ecclesiastical practice rather than having any doctrinal or canonical effect.  A person become Archbishop of Canterbury through a sequence of juridical acts and these constitute the decisive legal instruments; ceremonial rites have a symbolic value but nothing more, the power of the office vested from the point at which the legal mechanisms have correctly been executed (in that, things align with the procedures used for the nation’s monarchs).  So the difference is one of tone rather than substance and the “modern” church has for decades sought to distance itself from perceptions it may harbor quasi-regal aspirations or the perpetuation of clerical grandeur and separateness; at least from Lambeth Palace, the preferred model long has been pastoral; most Church of England bishops have for some times been “installed” in their cathedrals (despite “enthronement” surviving in some press reports, a product likely either of nostalgia or “cut & paste journalism”).  That said, some Anglican provinces outside England still “enthrone” (apparently on the basis “it’s always been done that way” rather than the making of a theological or secular point”).

Lambeth Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury's official London residence.

Interestingly, Archbishops of York (“the church in the north”) continued to enjoy ceremonies of enthronement even after those those at Canterbury underwent installations.  Under canon law, the wording literally makes no difference and historians have concluded the retention of the older form is clung to for no reason other than “product differentiation”, York Minster often emphasizing their continuity with medieval ceremonial forms; it’s thus a mere cultural artefact, the two ceremonies performing the same liturgical action: seating the archbishop in the cathedra (the chair (throne) of the archbishop.  Because it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury and not York who sits as the “spiritual head of the worldwide Anglican community”, in York there’s probably no lingering sensitivity to criticism of continuing with “Romish ways”.  It's not that northern noses are less troubled by the “whiff of popery”, it just that few now care.

In an indication of how little the wording matters, it’s not clear who was the last Archbishop of Canterbury who could be said to have been “enthroned” because there was never any differentiation of form in the ceremonies and the documents suggest the terms were used casually and even interchangeably.  What can be said is that Geoffrey Fisher (1887–1972; AoC-99: 1945-1961) was installed at a ceremony widely described (in the official programme, ecclesiastical commentaries and other church & secular publications) as an “enthronement” and that was the term used in the government Gazette; that’s as official an endorsement of the term as seems possible because, being an established church, bishops are appointed by the Crown on the advice of the prime minister although the procedure has at least since 2007 been a “legal fiction” because the church’s CNC (Crown Nominations Commission) sends the names to the prime minister who acts as a “postbox”, forwarding them to the palace for the issuing of letters patent confirming the appointment.  When Michael Ramsey (1904–1988; AoC-100: 1961-1974), was appointed, although the term “enthrone” did appear in press reports, the church’s documents almost wholly seem to have used “install” and since then, in Canterbury, it’s been installations all the way.

Pope Pius XII in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, March, 1939.

So, by the early 1960s the church was responding, if cautiously, to the growing anti-monarchical sentiment in post-war ecclesiology although this does seem to have been a sentiment of greater moment to intellectuals and theologians than parishioners.  About these matters there was however a kind of ecumenical sensitivity emerging and the conciliar theology later was crystallised (if not exactly codified) in the papers of Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970).  The comparison with the practice in Rome is interesting because there are more similarities than differences although that is obscured by words like “enthronement” and “coronation” being seemingly embedded in the popular (and journalistic) imagination. That’s perhaps understandable because for two millennia as many as 275 popes (officially the count is 267 but it’s not certain how many there have been because there have been “anti-popes” and allegedly even one woman (although that’s now largely discounted)) have sat “on the throne of Saint Peter” (retrospectively the first pope) so the tradition is long.  In Roman Catholic canon law, “enthronement” is not a juridical term; the universal term is capio sedem (taking possession of the cathedral (ie “installation”)) and, as in England, an appointment is formalized once the legal instruments are complete, the subsequent ceremony, while an important part of the institution’s mystique, exists for the same reason as it does for the Church of England or the House of Windsor: it’s the circuses part of panem et circenses (bread and circuses).  Unlike popes who once had coronations, archbishops of Canterbury never did because they made no claim to temporal sovereignty.

Pope Paul VI in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, June. 1963.  It was the last papal coronation.

So, technically, modern popes are “installed as Bishop of Rome” and in recent decades the Holy See has adjusted the use of accoutrements to dispel any implication of an “enthronement”, the last papal coronation at which a pope was crowned with the triple tiara was that of Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) but in “an act of humility” he removed it, placing it on the on the alter where (figuratively), it has since sat.  Actually, Paul VI setting aside the triple tiara as a symbolic renunciation of temporal and monarchical authority was a bit overdue because the Papal States had been lost to the Holy See with the unification of Italy in 1870 though the Church refused to acknowledge that reality; in protest, no pope for decades set foot outside the Vatican.  However, in the form of the Lateran Treaty (1929), the Holy See entered into a concordat with the Italian state whereby the (1) the Vatican was recognized as a sovereign state and (2) the church was recognized as Italy’s state religion in exchange for which the territorial and political reality was recognized.  Despite that, until 1963 the triple tiara (one tier of which was said to symbolize the pope’s temporal authority over the papal states) appeared in the coronations of Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958), John XXIII (1881-1963; pope 1958-1963) and Paul VI (who didn’t formally abolish the rite of papal coronation from the Ordo Rituum pro Ministerii Petrini Initio Romae Episcopi (Order of Rites for the Beginning of the Petrine Ministry of the Bishop of Rome (the liturgical book detailing the ceremonies for a pope's installation)) until 1975.

The Chair of St Augustine.  In church circles, archbishops of Canterbury are sometimes said to "occupy the Chair of St Augustine".

The Chair of St Augustine sits in Canterbury Cathedral but technically, an AoC is “twice installed”: once on the Diocesan throne as the Bishop of the see of Canterbury and also on the Chair of St Augustine as Primate of All England (the nation's first bishop) and spiritual leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion. So, there’s nothing unusual in Sarah Mullally being “installed” rather than “enthroned” as would have been the universal terminology between the reformation and the early twentieth century.  Linguistically, legally and theologically, the choice of words is a non-event and anyone who wishes to describe Dame Sarah as “enthroned” may do so without fear of condemnation, excommunication or a burning at the stake.  What is most likely is that of those few who notice, fewer still are likely to care.