Doomsday

Doomsday (pronounced doomz-dey)

(1) In Christian eschatology, the day of the Last Judgment, at the end of the world (sometimes capital letter); the end of days; the end of times.

(2) Any day of judgment or sentence (sometimes initial capital).

(3) In casual use, the destruction of the world, since the 1950s, by means of nuclear weapons.

(4) As doomsday weapon(s), the device(s) causing the destruction of the world; anything capable of causing widespread or total destruction.

(5) Given to or marked by forebodings or predictions of impending calamity; especially concerned with or predicting future universal destruction.

(6) As Doomsday Clock, a symbolic warning device indicating how close humanity is to destroying the world, run since 1947 as a private venture by the members of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists.

Pre 1000: A compound from the Middle English domes + dai from the Old English construct dom (judgment) + dæg (day), dōmesdæg (sometimes dōmes dæg) (Judgment Day) and related to the Old Norse domsdagr.  Dome was borrowed from the Middle French dome & domme (which survives in Modern French as dôme), from the Italian duomo, from the Latin domus (ecclesiae) (literally “house (of the church)”), a calque of the Ancient Greek οἶκος τῆς ἐκκλησίας (oîkos tês ekklēsías); doublet of domus.  Dom was from the Proto-West Germanic dōm and was cognate with the Old Frisian dōm, the Old Saxon dōm, the Old High German tuom, the Old Norse dómr and the Gothic dōms.  The Germanic source was from a stem verb originally meaning “to place, to set”, a sense-development also found in the Latin statutum and the Ancient Greek θέμις (thémis).  Dai had the alternative forms deg, deag & dœg all from the Proto-West Germanic dag; it was cognate with the Old Frisian dei, the Old Saxon dag, the Old Dutch dag, the Old High German tag, the Old Norse dagr and the Gothic dags.

In medieval England, doomsday was expected when the world's age had reached 6,000 years from the creation, thought to have been in 5200 BC and English Benedictine monk, the Venerable Bede (circa 672-735) complained of being pestered by rustici (the "uneducated and coarse-mannered, rough of speech"), asking him "how many years till the sixth millennium be endeth?"  However, despite the assertions (circa 1999) of the Y2K doomsday preppers, there is no evidence to support the story of a general panic in Christian Europe in the days approaching the years 800 or 1000 AD.  The use to describe a hypothetical nuclear bomb powerful enough to wipe out human life (or all life) on earth is from 1960 but the speculation was the work of others than physicists and the general trend since the 1960s has been towards smaller devices although paradoxically, this has been to maximize the destructive potential through an avoidance of the "surplus ballistic effect" (ie the realization by military planners that blasting rubble into to smaller-sized rocks was "wasted effort and bad economics").

The Domesday Book

Domesday is a proper noun that is used to describe the documents known collectively as the Domesday Book, at the time an enormous survey (a kind of early census) ordered by William I (circa 1028-1087; styled usually as William the Conqueror, King of England 1066-1087) in 1085.  The survey enumerated all the wealth in England and determined ownership in order to assess taxes.  Domesday was the Middle English spelling of doomsday, and is pronounced as doomsday.

Original Domesday book, UK National Archives, London.

The name Domesday Book (which was Doomsday in earlier spellings) was first recorded almost a century after 1086.  An addition to the manuscript was made probably circa 1114-1119 when it was known as the Book of Winchester and between then and 1179, it acquired the name by which it has since been known.  Just to clarify its status, the Treasurer of England himself announced “This book is called by the native English Domesday, that is Day of Judgement” (Dialogus de scaccario), adding that, like the Biblical Last Judgment, the decisions of Domesday Book were unalterable because “… as from the Last Judgment, there is no further appeal.”  This point was reinforced by a clause in the Dialogue of the Exchequer (1179) which noted “just as the sentence of that strict and terrible Last Judgement cannot be evaded by any art or subterfuge, so, when a dispute arises in this realm concerning facts which are written down, and an appeal is made to the book itself, the evidence it gives cannot be set at nought or evaded with impunity.”  It was from this point that began in England the idea of the centralised written record taking precedence over local oral traditions, the same concept which would evolve as the common law.

The Doomsday Book described in remarkable detail the landholdings and resources of late eleventh century England and is illustrative of both the power of the government machine by the late medieval period and its deep thirst for information.  Nothing on the scale of the survey had been undertaken in contemporary Europe, and was not matched in comprehensiveness until the population censuses of the nineteenth century although, Doomsday is not a full population census, the names appearing almost wholly restricted to landowners who could thus be taxed.  It was for centuries used for administrative and legal purposes and remains often the starting point for many purposes for historians but of late has been subject to an increasingly detailed textual analysis and it’s certainly not error-free.

The Doomsday Clock

The Doomsday Clock is a symbol that represents the likelihood of a man-made global catastrophe.  Maintained since 1947 by the members of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists (BOTAS), the clock was created as a metaphor for threat to humanity posed by nuclear weapons.  On the clock, a hypothetical global catastrophe is represented as the stroke of midnight and BOTAS’s view of the closeness to that hour being reached by the number of minutes or seconds to midnight.  Every January, BOTAS’s Science and Security Board committee meets to decide where the second-hand of the clock should point and in recent years, other risk factors have been considered, including disease and climate change, the committee monitoring developments in science and technology that could inflict catastrophic damage.

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

These concerns do have a long history in philosophy and theology but the use in 1945 of nuclear fission to create atomic weapons focused the minds of many more on the possibilities, the concerns growing in the second half of the twentieth century as the bombs got bigger and proliferated extraordinarily to the point where, if all were detonated in the right place at the right time, almost everyone on Earth would have been killed several times over.  At least on paper, the threat was real and even before Hiroshima made the world suddenly aware of the matter, there had been some in apocalyptic mood: Winston Churchill's (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) “finest hour” speech in 1940 warning of the risk civilization might “…sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science”.  It had been a growing theme in liberal interwar politics since the implications of technology and the industrialisation of warfare had been writ large by the World War I (1914-1918).

HG Wells’ (1866–1946) last book was Mind at the End of its Tether (1945), a slim volume, best remembered for the fragment “…everything was driving anyhow to anywhere at a steadily increasing velocity”, seemingly describing a world which had become more complicated, chaotic and terrifying than anything he had prophesized in his fiction. In this it’s often contrasted with the spirit of cheerful optimism and forward-looking stoicism of the book he published a few months earlier, The Happy Turning (1945), but that may be a misreading.  Mind at the End of its Tether is a curious text, easy to read yet difficult to reduce to a theme; in his review, George Orwell (1903-1950) called it “disjointed” and it does have a quality of vagueness, some chapters hinting at despair for all humanity, others suggesting hope for the future.  It’s perhaps the publication date that tints the opinions of some.  Although released some three months after the first use of atomic bombs in August 1945, publishing has lead-times and Wells hadn’t heard of the A-bomb at the time of writing although, he had in 1914 predicted such a device in The World Set Free.  In writing Mind at the End of its Tether, Wells, the great seer of science, wasn’t in dark despair at news of science’s greatest achievement, nuclear fission, but instead a dying man disappointed about the terrible twentieth century which, at the end of the nineteenth, had offered such promise.

In 1947, though the USSR had still not even tested an atomic bomb and the US enjoyed exclusive possession of the weapon, BOTAS was well aware it was only a matter of time and the clock was set at seven minutes to midnight.  Adjustments have been made a couple of dozen times since, the most optimistic days being in 1991 with the end of the Cold War when it was seventeen minutes to midnight and the most ominous right now, BOTAS in 2023 choosing 90 seconds, ten seconds worse than the 100 settled on in 2020.

The committee each year issues an explanatory note and in 2021 noted the influences on their decision.  The COVID-19 pandemic was a factor, not because it threatened to obliterate civilization but because it “…revealed just how unprepared and unwilling countries and the international system are to handle global emergencies properly. In this time of genuine crisis, governments too often abdicated responsibility, ignored scientific advice, did not cooperate or communicate effectively, and consequently failed to protect the health and welfare of their citizens.  As a result, many hundreds of thousands of human beings died needlessly”.  COVID-19 they noted, will eventually recede but the pandemic, as it unfolded, was “a vivid illustration that national governments and international organizations are unprepared to manage nuclear weapons and climate change, which currently pose existential threats to humanity, or the other dangers—including more virulent pandemics and next-generation warfare—that could threaten civilization in the near future”.  In 2023, the adjustment was attributed mostly to (1) the increased risk of the use of nuclear weapons after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, (2) climate change, (3) biological threats such as COVID-19 and (4) the spread of disinformation through disruptive technology such as generative AI (artificial intelligence).

The acceleration of nuclear weapons programs by many countries was thought to have increased instability, especially in conjunction with the simultaneous development of delivery systems increasingly adaptable to the use of conventional or nuclear warheads.  The concern was expressed this “may raise the probability of miscalculation in times of tension”.  Governments were considered to have “…failed sufficiently to address climate change” and that while “fossil fuel use needs to decline precipitously if the worst effects of climate change are to be avoided”, instead “…fossil fuel development and production are projected to increase”.  Political factors were also mentioned including the corrosive effects of “false and misleading information disseminated over the internet…, a wanton disregard for science and the large-scale embrace” of conspiracy theories often “driven by political figures”.  They did offer a glimmer of hope, notably the change of administration in the US to one with a more aggressive approach to climate change policy and a renewed commitment to nuclear arms control agreements but it wasn’t enough to convince them to move the hands of the clock.  It remains a hundred seconds to midnight.

The clock is not without critics, even the Wall Street Journal (WSJ) expressing disapproval since falling under the control of Rupert Murdoch (b 1931).  There is the argument that after seventy years, its usefulness has diminished because over those decades it has become "the boy who cried wolf": a depiction of humanity on the precipice of the abyss yet life went on.  Questions have also been raised about the narrowness of the committee and whether a body which historically has had a narrow focus on atomic weapons and security is adequately qualified to assess the range of issues which should be considered.  Mission creep too is seen as a problem.  The clock began as a means of expressing the imminence of nuclear war.  Is it appropriate to use the same mechanism to warn of impending climate change which has anyway already begun and is likely accelerating?  Global thermo-nuclear war can cause a catastrophic loss of life and societal disruption within hours, whereas the climate catastrophe is projected to unfolds over decades and centuries.  Would a companion calendar be a more helpful metaphor?  The criticism may miss the point, the clock not being a track of climate change but of political will to do something to limit and ameliorate the effects (everyone having realised it can’t be stopped).

Deadman

Deadman (pronounced ded-man or ded-muhn)

(1) In architecture and civil engineering a heavy plate, log, wall, or block buried in the ground that acts as an anchor for a retaining wall, sheet pile etc, usually by a tie connecting the two.

(2) A crutch-like prop, used temporarily to support a pole or mast during the erection process.

(3) In nautical use, an object fixed on shore temporarily to hold a mooring line.

(4) In nautical use, a rope for hauling the boom of a derrick inboard after discharge of a load of cargo.

(5) In mountaineering a metal plate with a wire loop attached for thrusting into firm snow to serve as a belay point, a smaller version being known as a deadboy.

(6) In slang, a bottle of alcoholic drink that has been consumed (ie is empty).

(7) In the operation of potentially dangerous machinery, a control or switch on a powered machine or vehicle that disengages a blade or clutch, applies the brake, shuts off the engine etc, when the driver or operator ceases to press a pedal, squeeze a throttle, etc; known also as the deadman throttle or the deadman control.  The hyphenated form dead-man is often used, both as noun and adjective.  Deadman is a noun and the noun plural is deadmans which seems ugly and a resulting formation such as "seven deadmans" is surely clumsy but most authoritative reference sources insist only "deadmans" will do.  Deadmen or dead-men is tolerated (by some liberal types) on the same basis as computer "mice" although "mouses" doesn't jar in the way "deadmans" seems to.

Circa 1895: A compound word, the construct being dead + man.  Dead was from the Middle English ded & deed, from Old English dēad, from the Proto-West Germanic daud, from daudaz.  The Old English dēad (a dead person; the dead collectively, those who have died) was the noun use of the adjective dead, the adverb (in a dead or dull manner, as if dead," also "entirely") attested from the late fourteenth century, again derived from the adjective.  The Proto-Germanic daudaz was the source also of the Old Saxon dod, the Danish død, the Swedish död, the Old Frisian dad, the Middle Dutch doot, the Dutch dood, the Old High German tot, the German tot, the Old Norse dauðr & the Gothic dauþs.  It's speculated the ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European dheu (to die).Man was from the Middle English man, from the Old English mann (human being, person, man), from the Proto-West Germanic mann, from the Proto-Germanic mann (human being, man), probably from the primitive Indo-European mon- (man) (men having the meaning “mind”); a doublet of manu.  The specific sense of “adult male of the human race” (distinguished from a woman or boy) was known in the Old English by circa 1000.   Old English used wer and wif to distinguish the sexes, but wer began to disappear late in the thirteenth century, replaced by mann and increasingly man.  Man also was in Old English as an indefinite pronoun (one, people, they) and used generically for "the human race, mankind" by circa 1200.  It was cognate with the West Frisian man, the Dutch man, the German Mann (man), the Norwegian mann (man), the Old Swedish maþer (man), the Swedish man, the Russian муж (muž) (husband, male person), the Avestan manš, the Sanskrit मनु (manu) (human being), the Urdu مانس‎ and Hindi मानस (mānas).   Although often thought a modern adoption, use as a word of familiar address, originally often implying impatience is attested as early as circa 1400, hence probably its use as an interjection of surprise or emphasis since Middle English.  It became especially popular from the early twentieth century.

Calameo Dual-purpose MIL-SIM-FX mechanical dead-man and detonator switch (part-number MIL-12G-DMS).

The source of the name is the idea that if something is likely to in some way be dangerous if uncontrolled, operation is possible only if some device is maintained in a state which is possible only by a person not dead or in some debilitated condition.  The classic example is the train driver; if the driver does not maintain the switch in the closed position, the train slows to a halt.  Some manufactures describe the whole assembly as a "deadman's brake" and the part which is subject to human pressure as "deadman's switch" (or deadman's handle".  The phrase "dead man's fingers" is unrelated and is used variously in zoology, botany and in cooking and "dead man's rope" is a kind of seaweed (a synonym of sea-laces).  The legend of the "dead man's hand" (various combinations of aces and eights in poker) is based on the cards in the hand held by the unfortunate "Wild Bill" Hickok (1837–1876) when shot dead at the poker table.  A "dead man's arm" was a traditional English pudding, steamed and served in the cut-off sleeve of a man's shirt.  The phrase "dead man walking" began as US prison slang to refer to those on death row awaiting execution and it's since been adopted to describe figures like politicians, coaches, CEOs and the like who are thought about to be sacked.  Reflecting progress in other areas, dictionaries now list both "dead woman walking" and "dead person walking" but there scant evidence of use.

May have come across the odd dead man: Lindsay Lohan in hoodie arriving at the Los Angeles County Morgue to perform court-ordered community service, October 2011.

Deadman and the maintenance of MAD

The concept of nuclear deterrence depends on the idea of mutually assured destruction (MAD): that there would be certain retaliation, even if a nuclear first-strike destroyed the usual command and control structures of an adversary, that would not guarantee there wouldn’t be a nuclear counter-strike.  All front-line nuclear-weapon states employ systems to ensure a residual capacity to retaliate, even after suffering a catastrophic first strike, the best known of which are the Russian Мертвая рука (Dead Hand) and the US AN/DRC-8 (Emergency Rocket Communications System), both of which are often referred to as doomsday devices.  Both exist to close the strategic nuclear strike control loop and were inventions of the high Cold War, the USSR’s system later taken over by the successor Russian state.  The metaphor of a deadman is accurate to the extent of the need to keep closed a loop, the difference being the consequences.

Test launch of ground-based Russian RS-24 Yars ICBM from the Plesetsk facility in northwestern Russia, 9 December 2020.

The most extreme scenario is one in which there is left not a living soul with access to the loop.  In this case, the system switches from one designed to instigate a launch of ballistic missiles to one where some act is required to prevent the attack and is thus dubbed fail-deadly, the reverse of the fail-safe systems designed to prevent inadvertent launches.  The doomsday systems use a variety of mechanical and electronic monitoring protocols designed to (1) detect that a strike has occurred, (2) determine the extent of damage and (3) attempts to maintain or restore the usual communication channels of the military chain of command.  If the systems determine worst-case circumstances exist, a retaliatory launch of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) will be triggered.  Neither the Kremlin nor the Pentagon tend to comment on such things but, over the years, there have been (what are assumed to be managed) leaks that the systems are usually inactive and activated only during times of crisis but the veracity of this is unknown.

Royal Navy test launch of UGM-133 Trident II nuclear submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM) from Vanguard class submarine HMS Vigilant, 28 October 2012.

One obvious theoretical vulnerability in the USSR’s and US systems is that at points it is electronic and therefore reliant on hardware, software and an energy source.  The UK government has an entirely analogue system which uses only pen and paper.  Known as letters of last resort, each incoming prime minister writes, in their own hand, four identical letters which are placed in a sealed envelope, given to the captain of each of the navy’s ballistic missile submarines who keeps it in his on-board safe.  The letters are only to be opened if an enemy (presumably nuclear) strike has damaged the chain of command to the extent it is no longer possible for the civilian government to instruct the military on what retaliatory action to take.  As soon as a prime-minister leaves office, the letters are, unopened, destroyed and replaced with ones from the new premier.  Those circumstances requiring a letter to be opened have never transpired and no prime-minister has ever commented publicly on what they wrote so the contents remain a genuine secret, known only to the writer and whomever they told.  So, although the only people who know the contents have never spoken, the consensus has long been the captains are likely to be given one of four options: 

(1) Retaliate.  Each of the four submarines is armed with up to sixteen 16 Trident II SLMBs (submarine-launched ballistic missiles), each missile equipped with up to twelve independently targeted warheads with a range of 7,000 miles (11,000 km).  There is always at least one at sea and the Admiralty never comments on its location although, in times of heightened political tension, additional boats may be activated.

(2) Not retaliate.

(3) The captains should use their judgment.  This, known as “the man on the ground” doctrine has a long tradition in the military although it was in some circumstances rendered redundant by advances in real-time communications.  In this case, it’s “the man under the water”.  An interesting question which touches on constitutional, international and military law, is the question of the point at which a state ceases to exist and the orders of a regime can be no longer said legally to be valid.

(4) Proceed to a place under an allied country's command or control.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900).

There is also a probably unexplored fifth option: a prime-minister could leave in the envelope a blank page.  This presumably would be substantively the same as option (3) but would denote a different political message to be mulled over in whatever remained of civilization.  No prime-minister has ever commented publicly on the thoughts which crossed their minds when writing these notes but perhaps some might have recalled Nietzche’s words in Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future (1886): "He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster.  And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."  Although troubled when he wrote that, he wasn't yet quite mad.

Doom

Doom (pronounced doom)

(1) Fate or destiny, especially adverse fate; unavoidable ill fortune.

(2) Ruin; death.

(3) A judgment, decision, or sentence, especially an unfavorable one.

(4) In Christian eschatology, the Last Judgment, at the end of days.

Pre 900: From the Middle English dome & doome from the Old English dōm (a law, statute, decree; administration of justice, judgment; justice, equity, righteousness; condemnation) from the Proto-Germanic domaz (source also of the Old Saxon and Old Frisian dom, the Old Norse domr, the Old High German tuom (judgment, decree), the Gothic doms (discernment, distinction), possibly from the primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, place, put, do), (source also of the Sanskrit dhā́man (custom or law), the Greek themis (law) and the Lithuanian domė (attention)).  It was with the Old Norse dōmr (judgement), the Old High German tuom (condition) and the Gothic dōms (sentence).  A book of laws in Old English was a dombec.

Lidsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011. 

In all its original forms, it seems to have been used in a neutral sense but sometimes also "a decision determining fate or fortune, irrevocable destiny."  The Modern adverse sense of "fate, ruin, destruction" began in the early fourteenth century and evolved into its general sense after circa 1600, influenced by doomsday and the finality of the Christian Judgment. The "crack of doom" is the last trump, the signal for the dissolution of all things and the finality of the Christian Judgment Day, is most memorably evoked in the Old Testament, in Ezekiel 7:7-8.

(7) Doom has come upon you, upon you who dwell in the land. The time has come! The day is near! There is panic, not joy, on the mountains.

(8) I am about to pour out my wrath on you and spend my anger against you. I will judge you according to your conduct and repay you for all your detestable practices.

Doom Paintings

Doom paintings are the vivid depictions of the Last Judgment, that moment in Christian eschatology when Christ judges souls and send them either to Heaven or Hell.  They became popular in medieval English churches as a form of graphical advertising to an often illiterate congregation, dramatizing the difference between rapture of heaven and the agonies of hell, consequences of a life of virtue or wickedness.  During the English Reformation, many doom paintings were destroyed, thought by the new order rather too lavishly Romish.

Weltgericht (Last Judgement) (circa 1435)); Tempera on oak triptych by German artist Stefan Lochner (c1410–1451).

Cobalt

Cobalt (pronounced koh-bawlt)

(1) A brittle, hard, lustrous, silvery-white-gray element (a ferromagnetic metal) which is found principally in cobaltite and smaltite and is widely used in (1) the rendering of both heat-resistant and magnetic alloys, (2) in clinical oncology and (3) as a blue pigment used to color ceramics, glass and other materials.

(2) As cobalt blue, a deep blue pigment derived from cobalt; zaffre.

(3) As cobalt therapy (known colloquially as the “cobalt ray”), a gamma ray treatment first used in the early 1950s in clinical oncology executed with external beam radiotherapy (teletherapy) machines using the radioisotope cobalt-60 with a half-life of 5.3 years.

1675–1685: From the German Kobalt & Kobold (a variant of Koboldkobold), from the Middle High German kobolt (household goblin), the name derived from the belief held by silver miners in the Harz Mountains that malicious goblins placed it in the silver ore, based on the rocks laced with arsenic and sulfur which degraded the ore and caused illness.  The construct was the Middle High German kobe (hut, shed) + holt (goblin) from hold (gracious, friendly), a euphemistic word for a troublesome being, designed to avoid offending the creature and thus inviting retribution.  It thus became part of German folk culture as an earth-elemental or nature spirit.  Although much rarer, the metallic element closely resembles nickel and was documented by but much rarer) was extracted from this rock. It was mentioned in the alchemy notes of Paracelsus (the Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher of the German Renaissance Theophrastus von Hohenheim (circa 1493-1541)), but as an element its discovery is credited to the Swedish chemist and mineralogist Georg Brandt (1694–1768) who in 1733 gave it the name.  Although it has since the mid-sixteenth century been used as a coloring agent for glass and ceramics, “cobalt blue” didn’t come into formal use until 1835.  There is also cobalt green (A variety of green inorganic pigments obtained by doping a certain cobalt oxide into colorless host oxides.  Cobalt & cobaltite are nouns and cobaltic, colbaltous & colbaltesque are adjectives; the noun plural is cobalts.

Cobalt ore.

Chemical symbol: Co.
Atomic number: 27.
Atomic weight: 58.93320.
Valency: 2 or 3.
Relative density (specific gravity): 8.9.
Melting point: 1495°C (2723°F).
Boiling point: 2928°C (5302.4°F).

Currently, most of the world's cobalt is supplied by mines in the Democratic Republic of Congo (the DRC, the old Republic of Zaire (1971-1997)) which account for some 60% of annual production.  Because of (1) industry economics and (2) the natural geological occurrence of the minerals, cobalt typically is extracted as a by-product of copper or nickel mining operations.  Smaller-scale mining is also undertaken in Canada, Australia, Russia and the Philippines.

Bugatti Type 35 (1924-1930) in Bleu de France (Blue of France, at the time often called Bleu Racing Français (French Racing Blue)) (left) and Bugatti Veyron 16.4 Super Sport Vitesse (2012–2015) in bleu cobalt over Bleu de France (right).  The factory still offers a variety of blues including bleu cobalt.

In the early days of motorsport, cars were painted in accord with their country of origin (the corporate liveries reflecting the source of the sponsorship didn’t reach all categories until the late 1960s) and the French chose blue.  Originally it was the exact shade used on the tricolore (the national flag) but teams soon adopted various shades.  The British were allocated green which became famous as the dark shade used on the Bentleys which raced at Le Mans in the 1920s but it too was never exactly defined and over the decades lighter and darker hues were seen.  The Italians of course raced in the red best represented by Ferrari’s Rosso Corsa (Racing Red) although in the era red at least once appeared on the bodywork of the car of another nation.  The winner of the 1924 Targa Florio in Sicily was a bright red Mercedes Tipo Indy and, being German, should have been painted in their racing color of white but, noting the rocks and other items the Italian crowd was inclined to throw at any machine not finished in Rosso Corsa, the team decided subterfuge was justified and the use of white by German entrants anyway didn’t last even a decade after the victory.

In 1934, with the Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union factory teams supported by the Nazi state as a propaganda project, the Mercedes-Benz W25s appeared in silver, the bare aluminum polished rather than painted.  For decades, the story told was that after a practice session, upon being weighed, the cars were found to be a kilogram-odd over the 750 KG limit for the event and the team had to work overnight to scrape off all the carefully applied, thick white paint, the weigh-in on the morning of the race yielding a compliant 749.9.  It was a romantic tale but has since been debunked, the race in question not being run under the 750 KG rule and in the 1990s, a trove of photographs was uncovered in an archive showing the cars arriving at the track unpainted, already in bare silver.  The authorities did request the Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union teams revert to white but already motorsport’s prime directive of the 1930s was operative: "Give way to the Germans".  That race in 1934 was the debut of the “silver arrows” but it happened not quite as the legend suggested.  Even the factory now refers to the tale as "the legend".

The International Organization for Standardization (ISO) has issued standard (ISO 11664-3:2019) which defines the technical terms and the colorimetric equations necessary for colorimetry and in that cobalt blue has been defined as Hex triplet #0047AB; sRGBB (r:0; g:71; b:171) & HSV (h: 215°; s: 100%; v:67%).  However, among manufacturers it’s often just a vague descriptor on the color chart and like many colors is treated as a spectrum with hues varying in shade and tone.  In the fashion industry there’s no attempt whatever at standardization or even consistency and the same house has been known to describe the fabric used in one range “cobalt blue” while in another line it might be “ultramariine”, “Prussian blue” “royal blue” or anything else which seems to suit.

Lindsay Lohan in cobalt blue dress at Nylon Magazine's launch of the Young Hollywood Issue, Tenjune, New York, May 2007.

The cobalt bomb is a speculative nuclear weapon, first suggested in 1950 by one of the leading physicists associated with the Manhattan Project which during World War II (1939-1945) developed the world’s first atomic bombs.  It was the implications of the cobalt bomb which first gave rise to the doomsday notion that it might be possible to build weapons which could kill all people on earth.  The device would be constructed as a thermo-nuclear weapon consisting of a hydrogen (fusion) bomb encased in cobalt which upon detonation releases large quantities of radioactive cobalt-60 into the atmosphere and from the site of the explosion it would be dispersed worldwide by atmospheric processes.  Because of its half-life, were the volume of the release to be sufficient, the entire planet could be affected well before radioactive decay reached the point where human (and almost all animal) life could be sustained.  It’s believed no full-scale cobalt bomb was ever built but the British did test the concept on a tiny scale and few doubt the major nuclear weapons powers have all simulated cobalt bombs in their big computers and, awesome of awful depending on one’s world view, the thing has long been a staple in science fiction and the genre called “nuclear war porn”.

The descendent of the idea was the neutron bomb which, like the cobalt device, relied for its utility on fall-out rather than the initial destructive blast.  The Pentagon-funded work on the first neutron bomb was conducted under the project name “Dove” (which seems a nice touch) and the rationale was that for use in Europe, what was needed was a weapon with a relatively low blast but which produced a nasty but relatively short-lived fallout, the idea being that there would be a high death-rate among an invading army but little physical damage to valuable real estate and infrastructure.

Football

Football (pronounced foot-bawl)

(1) As Association Football (soccer), a game in which two opposing teams of 11 players each defend goal-nets at opposite ends of a field, points being scored by placing the ball in an opponent’s net.

(2) As American football, a game in which two opposing teams of 11 players each defend goals at opposite ends of a field having goal posts at each end, with points being scored either by carrying the ball across the opponent's goal line or kicking it over the crossbar between the opponent's goal posts.

(3) By association (sometimes officially and sometimes as an alternative or informal name), any of various games played with spherical or ellipsoid balls, based usually on two teams competing (variously) to kick, head, carry, or otherwise propel the ball in the direction of each other's territory, the mechanisms of scoring varying according to the rules of the code (Rugby Union, Rugby League, Canadian Football, Australian Rules Football, Gaelic Football etc).

(4) The inflated ball (of various sizes and either spherical or ellipsoid in shape and historically made of leather but now often synthetic) used in football, the Rugby codes etc.

(5) Any person, thing or abstraction treated roughly, tossed about or a problem or (in the phrase “political football”) an issue repeatedly passed from one group or person to another and treated as a pretext for argument (often to gain political advantage) instead of being resolved.

(6) In slang (originally in the US military but now widely used), a briefcase containing the codes and options the US president would use to launch a nuclear attack, carried by a military aide and kept available to the president at all times (also as nuclear football, atomic football, black box or black bag) (by convention with an initial capital).

(7) As a modifier, football club, football ground, football fanatic, football pitch, football hooligan, football fan, football match etc.

(8) In commercial use, something sold at a reduced or special price.

1350-1400: From the Middle English fut ball, fotbal & footbal, the construct being foot + ball, the name derived from the games which involved kicking the ball.  Foot was from the Middle English fut, fot, fote & foot, from the Old English fōt, from the Proto-West Germanic fōt, from the Proto-Germanic fōts, from the primitive Indo-European pṓds.  Ball was from the Middle English bal, ball & balle, from the (unattested) Old English beall & bealla (round object, ball) or the Old Norse bǫllr (a ball), both from the Proto-Germanic balluz & ballô (ball), from the primitive Indo-European boln- (bubble), from the primitive Indo-European bel- (to blow, inflate, swell).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon ball, the Dutch bal, the Old High German bal & ballo (from which Modern German gained Ball (ball) & Ballen (bale)).  The related forms in Romance languages are borrowings from the Germanic.

Lindsay Lohan in “gridiron” gear, Life Size (2000).

Apparently in international use now less common than once (“NFL” now preferred), the term "gridiron" remains frequently used in the US describe American football including the NFL (National Football League).  The word refers to the marking originally painted on the field: two intersecting series of parallel lines running the length & breadth of the field which produced a cross-hatched effect recalling the gridirons used on stoves.  After the 1919-1920 season, the grid was replaced with yard lines still in use today but the name has stuck.  In the thirteenth century it was an instrument of torture on which victims chained before being burned by fire and in the same vein (though less gruesomely), in the 1500s it described a similar wrought grate on which meat and fish were broiled over hot coals.  In modern use, it's used of lattice-like structures (though not necessarily of iron) including in ship repair where grid irons are used as an open frame which supports vessels for examination, cleaning and repairs when out of the water and in the slang of live theatre, it's a raised framework from which lighting is suspended.  An interesting (though no longer permitted) use emerged in twentieth century land law in New Zealand where "to grid iron" was to purchase land with the boundaries drawn so remaining adjacent parcels were smaller than the minimum which could be registered in fee simple (freehold), thus preserving the buyers view and excluding the threat of undesirable neighbors.  Globally, the cultural and economic impacts of soccer have long been obvious.  Although Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977; president of the Royal College of Physicians 1941-1949) thought England eventually would be remembered for her school of physics and lyric poets, the less romantic Sir Richard Turnbull (1909–1998; long serving UK colonial administrator) told Denis Healey (1917–2015; UK defence minister 1964-1970) that “…when the British Empire finally sank beneath the waves of history, it would leave behind it only two monuments: one was the game of Association Football, the other was the expression ‘fuck off’”.  

"Fuck off" has of course flourished in Australia and New Zealand and in some suburbs conversations without it being heard at least once are rare but soccer was different.  It was different in Australia because of Australian Football which, while occasionally called “Aussie Rules” has long been commonly known as football (or footie) so the round-ball game became soccer and the name Socceroo (the construct being socce(r) + (kanga)roo)) was adopted as the official name for the national team.  In Japan, where the dominant influence on the language in the twentieth century was the US, the most common form is サッカー(sakkā, from soccer).  In the US, a hybrid (with a few unique innovations) of rugby and association football emerged and was soon more popular than either.  The early name was “gridiron football” but in the pragmatic American way, that quickly became simply “football” although curiously, “gridiron” has survived among many foreign audiences.  Realizing the linguistic batter was lost, the United States Football Association, which had formed in the 1910s as the official organizing body of American soccer, in 1945 changed its name to the United States Soccer Football Association before deciding the advantages of product differentiation should be pursued, deleting entirely any use of “football”.  The other great US contribution to the language was the “soccer mom”, an encapsulation of a particular (usually white), middle-class demographic describing (1) a woman who often drives her school-age children to sporting activities and (2) in a quasi-disparaging sense, a white, middle-class woman who obsessively talks of her children’s successes and achievements.  There are derivative terms such as soccer dad & ballet dad but they’ve never achieved the same cultural traction.

In Australia & New Zealand, “footy” is the common slang used in all of the four major codes.  Slang terms for footballs include moleskin, pill, peanut, pigskin, pillow & pineapple.  The names are an allusion to the shape and that so many start with the letter “p” is thought mere coincidence.  The figurative sense of “something idly kicked around, something subject to hard use and many vicissitudes” which is the ancestor of the “political football” was in use as early as the 1530s while the US military slang referencing the portable device with which a US president emerged in the 1960s.  Football (in the sense of soccer) is called “the world game”: and like the game, forms of the word have spread to many languages including the Arabic كرة القدم‎ (calque), the Czech fotbal, the Dutch: voetbal (calque), the German Fußball (Fussball) (calque), the Hebrew כדורגל‎ (calque), the Japanese フットボール (futtobōru), the Korean 풋볼 (putbol), the Maltese futbol, the Portuguese futebol, the Romanian fotbal, the Russian футбо́л (futból), the Spanish fútbol, the Thai ฟุตบอล (fút-bɔn) and the Turkish futbol.  Football is a noun & verb, footballer & footballization are nouns, footballing is a verb & adjective and footballed is a verb; the noun plural is footballs.

The Nuclear Football

US Navy Commander walking across the White House lawn, carrying the “Football” onto Marine One (the presidential helicopter).

The “Football” (also as nuclear football, atomic football, black box or black bag) is a briefcase (reputedly made of a reinforced material with a black leather skin) which a military aide to the US president carries so at all times when the commander-in-chief is remote from designated command centres (such as the White House Situation Room), orders to the military can be issued including the command to authorize the launch of nuclear weapons.  The Football contains lists of the codes needed to transmit the launch order and the essential technical documentation required to determine the form a nuclear attack should assume.  Apparently, there’s also a check-list of the domestic measures immediately to be executed in the event of an attack including the imposition of martial law and the closing of US airspace to civilian aviation.  This was an outgrowth of the “SIOP (Single Integrated Operational Plan) Execution Handbook which codified in one publication all essential information needed in the circumstances, something developed during the administration of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) but in the way of things familiar to those acquainted with bureaucratic inertia, the physical size (and thus the weight) of the contents grew and there are reports the package now weights in excess of 20 kg (45 lb).  Of course, everything could be contained on a single USB pen-drive (and the Football presumably includes a number of these) but because it’s something of a doomsday device, everything needs to be accessible in a WCS (worst case scenario) in which electronic devices are for whatever reason unable to be used.

Set of the War Room in Dr Strangelove (1964).  It’s presumably apocryphal but it’s said Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, US president 1981-1989) remarked his only disappointment upon becoming president was that the White House Situation Room was more like something in which an insurance company might conduct seminars than the film’s dramatic War Room set.

The first known use of something recognizable as a “Football” was during the second administration (1957-1961) of Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961) although in those days it contained purely the vital information and none of the independent communications connectivity which apparently was added as early as 1977.  Quite when first it was called the Football isn’t known but the term was in use during the Kennedy years and all agree it was based on the idea of the football “being passed” as happens in the game, the link being that it’s carried 24/7/365 by an on-duty military officer.  There’s also the story that “Football” was a refinement (possibly a euphemistic one) of the earlier (and also unattributed) nickname “dropkick”.  In the game of football the dropkick can be used to transfer the ball to another player and it was used as a codename in the film Dr Strangelove, a dark comedy of nuclear destruction.  However whether art imitated life or it was the other way around isn’t known and Football anyway prevailed.

The arrival of the Football in Hiroshima in May 2023 with Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) who was in town for the Group of Seven (G7) meeting was noted on Japanese Social Media although it wasn’t the first time the Football had been in the city which was the target of the first nuclear attack, Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017) visiting in 2016.  By the time President Obama stepped off the Air Force One, the Football enabled him to unleash within 30 minutes the equivalent of over 22,000 Hiroshima-sized bombs which, while rather less than in 1969 when the when the size of the US nuclear arsenal peaked, was still quite an increase on the two deliverable weapons available in August 1945.  The thermo-nuclear (fusion) devices in use since the 1950s were also a thousand-fold (and beyond) more powerful than the fission bombs deployed against Hiroshima and Nagasaki although interestingly, while for decades the Hiroshima bomb was a genuine one-off (using uranium rather than plutonium), analysts believe in recent years uranium has again become fashionable with recent adopters such as Pakistan and the DPRK (North Korea) building them because of the relative simplicity of construction.