Nurdle

Nurdle (pronounced nhur-dl)

(1) In cricket, to work the ball away gently, especially to the leg side, gently nudging the delivery into vacant spaces on the field; such a shot played.

(2) In conversation, gently to waffle or muse on a subject about which once obviously knows little.

(3) In manufacturing, a pre-production micro-plastic pellet about the size of a pea, the raw material used in the manufacture of plastic products.

(4) In marine ecology as plastic resin pellet pollution (PRPP); marine debris.

(5) The depiction of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting on a toothbrush.

(6) That which is squeezed from tube to toothbrush.

(7) In the game of tiddlywinks (as nurdling), sending an opponent's wink too close to the pot to score easily. 

Circa 1968: In the context of cricket, it’s of unknown origin but presumably some sort of blend, influenced possibly by “nerd” & “nudge”, the meaning conveyed being a style of play that is cautious, unambitious and unexciting; the slow accumulation of a score; there’s been the suggestion of a link with “noodle” but it’s hard to see the connection and there's no documentary evidence.  The earliest known citation is a 1985 match report in The Times (London).  The small, cylindrical pellets, the raw material of the manufacturing processes of many plastic products, have been called nurdles since at least the 1970s, a reference from that time noted in the manuals supplied with an injection-molding machine.  The word is likely to have been coined either because of the physical similarity of the pellets to some types of noodle or as a variation of nodule (a small node or knot) and plastic nurdles have for decades been recdorded as a significant proportion of marine pollution.  As used to describe the toothbrush-length squirt of toothpaste as it sits atop the bristles, the origin is murky but may be linked to nodule.  There have been suggestions the use by the American Dental Association in the 1990s in a public-service advertising campaign about the correct technique for brushing may have been the coining but the word was used in toothpaste advertising as early as 1968 although the original spelling seems for some time to have been “nerdle”.  Nurdle is a noun & verb and nurdled & nurdling are verbs; the noun plural is nurdles.  The adjective nurdlesque is non-standard but has been used by at least one cricket commentator not impressed by a batsman's slot selection.

The Great Nurdle Affair

Previously little discussed in law, the nurdle received some brief attention when a trademark-infringement lawsuit (Colgate-Palmolive Co v. GlaxoSmithKline LLC, US District Court, Southern District of New York, No. 10-05728) was filed in July 2010 by GlaxoSmithKline (GSK), makers of Aquafresh “Triple Protection” toothpaste, against Procter & Gamble (P&G), owners of the Colgate “Triple Action” brand.  Almost immediately, P&G counter-sued in the same court with the retaliatory GlaxoSmithKline LLC v. Colgate-Palmolive, No. 10-05739.  One was seeking, inter alia, the exclusive right to depict a nurdle, the other claiming the image was so generic anyone enjoyed the right.

GSK's Aquafresh Triple Protection & Colgate’s Triple Action.

The disputes hinged on “triple” as a descriptor and “nurdle”, not as a word but as the image of a wave-shaped blob of toothpaste sitting atop the bristles on the head of a toothbrush.  GSK's core argument was that it held trademark registrations on both “triple protection” and a red, white & blue-striped nurdle.  P&G argued “triple protection” was weak and that a nurdle is inherently merely descriptive because it is but a literal image of the product.  What the court had to decide was whether a reasonable consumer, on seeing the nurdle and “triple action” text description on packages of Colgate toothpaste, could be sufficiently misled to believe what they were looking at was sourced, sponsored or endorsed by GSK which used both on their Aguafresh brand.

GSK’s nurdle.

In a filing of some eighty pages, P&G noted its recent release in the US of a toothpaste with packaging which superimposes the words “Triple Action” (the implication being (1) cavity protection, (2) fresh breath & (3), whiter teeth) atop a blue, white and green nurdle.  In response, GSK, which uses the “Triple Protection” phrase on its Aquafresh products, filed a trademark application for the "nurdle design" regardless of color; this induced P&G to sue to enforce its rights to use the nurdle.  P&G further noted GSK did not file their application until after they had already complained about P&G’s nurdle design and suggested GSK was using the process to stifle competition by asserting an excessively broad scope for trademark rights.

P&G’s nurdles, registered by Colgate as trademarks. 

GSK’s filing was only half the length and accused P&G of adopting various nurdle designs and the “Triple Action” mark in an effort to “trade off the commercial magnetism” of GSK own packaging which had since 1987 included a distinctive red, white and blue nurdle, an argument which implied elements of both usurpation and ambush marketing.  P&G asked the court to declare its “Triple Action” phrase and interpretation of the nurdle not confusingly similar to GSK’s own “Triple Protection” phrase and nurdle which used distinctively different colors.  It sought also have the court (1) cancel GSK’s “Triple Protection” and nurdle trademark registrations and (2), deny such injunctive relief that would have prevented P&G from using any nurdle design and a phrase containing “triple”.  Damages were sought on several grounds including punitive damages.  It was a case of some commercial significance given GSK had deployed the nurdle as a cartoon character in a marketing campaign aimed at children, the idea being that if children pestered their parents enough to buy Aquafresh for them, it was likely they’d gain the whole family as a conquest.  The nurdle campaign ran on Nurdle World in the US and The Nurdle Shmurdle in the UK.

Post settlement: Colgate Triple Action with a visually different nurdle.

Late in 2011, the parties announced a notice of settlement had been filed in the court; a confidential settlement had been negotiated.  The details have never been made public but a review of supermarket shelves suggests (1) the red, white & blue GSK nurdle is acknowledged to be propriety, (2) a nurdle nevertheless remains generic and can be depicted as long as it is sufficiently distinguished from GSK’s 1987 original and (3) things claiming to be of or pertaining to happening in threes may be described as “triple” whatever but, in the context of toothpaste, “triple protection” is a GSK trademark.  P&G could thus display a nurdle, just not GSK’s nurdle.  So, as a private settlement, there’s no change to established law but those inhabiting that grey space between ambush marketing and actual deceptive and misleading conduct no doubt took note.  A judge might anyway find the outcome in accordance with the operation of trademark law: a trademarked image as specific as the GSK nurdle is entitled to protection but, as a general principle, a word as notoriously common as “triple” is the property of the commons available to all.

In Germany, between the 1920s and the end of World War II (1939-1945), nurdles could be radio-active, toothpaste sold with trace amounts for thorium obtained from monazite sands, the promotional material of which read: “Increases the defenses of teeth and gums” & “Gently polishes the dental enamel, so it turns white and shiny”.  Although known since at least the mid-1920s, it was only in the aftermath of the A-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki (1945) that the adverse effects of ionizing radiation in high or sustained does became widely recognized, rendering radio-active toothpaste an undesirable product in the minds of mothers everywhere.  Although radio-active toothpaste sounds evil, the Nazis can't be blamed for it being on the shelves, its debut dating from the Weimar Republic (1918-1933).  

Save Paste structural concept for toothpaste packaging.

From the days when folk made their own toothpaste by mixing water, salt and the soot from chimneys, toothpaste has become one of the sometimes unacknowledged markers of civilized life.  The packaging though has been little changed since 1889 when Johnson & Johnson introduced their range in collapsible metal tubes.  The switch from metal to plastic happened over decades, necessitated initially by wartime shortages but by the 1990s, tubes were almost universally plastic.  Despite that, the fundamental design remained unchanged and was often inherently inefficient, supplied in a cardboard box, much of the internal capacity of which was unused because of the shape of the tube.  The design added cost and induced adverse environmental outcomes because (1) the box was unnecessary and immediately discarded and (2), the surplus volume added to the costs of storage and transportation.  One interesting suggestion has been the trapezoidal package.

By using a single cardboard container as both collapsible container and display packaging, it eliminates the need for a separate box.  Also, if designed with the correct geometry, multiple trapezoidal containers can more efficiently be packed for transportation and storage, thereby reducing the energy expended.  This simple trick of packaging. if extended to all products sold in tubes should result in a significant reduction in energy consumption (road, rail and air transport) and therefore in greenhouse emissions.  Additionally, the carboard is more easily recycled than plastic. 

One thing toothpaste manufacturers seem never anxious to discuss is the opinion of many experts that GSK’s classic nurdle, extending the length of the brush-head, is way too much and adults should instead use a nurdle no bigger than a pea.  Restraint when squeezing out a nurdle for children should be even more severe because of the risk when young of swallowing too much toothpaste containing fluoride: it increases the risk dental fluorosis, a cosmetic condition that affects the appearance of the teeth, ranging from brown and light discoloration to darker strains and even pitting.  On a very young child’s brush, rather than a plump nurdle, the toothpaste should just be a smear although they can use an adult's pea-sized nurdle after the age of three.  The British Dental Association summarize best practice by recommending (1) the correct amount of toothpaste for most people to use is a pea size, (2) brush at least twice daily, with a fluoridated toothpaste, brush last thing at night and at least on one other occasion; if possible brush after every meal, (3) use a fluoridated toothpaste (1,350–1,500 ppm fluoride) and (4), spit out after brushing and do not rinse (this maintains the fluoride concentration level).

Nurdling: Lindsay Lohan on the set of HBO's Eastbound & Down (2013), brushing teeth while smoking.  It's an unusual combination but might work OK if one smokes a menthol cigarette and uses a nurdle of mint toothpaste.  Other combinations might clash.

Crapper

Crapper (pronounced krap-er)

(1) A proprietary trade name for a brand of loo; toilet; lavatory etc.

(2) A slang term for the loo; toilet; lavatory etc.

1920s: The construct was crap + er.  Dating from 1375-1425, crap was from the Middle English crappe (which at various times existed in the plural as crappen, crappies and craps) (chaff; buckwheat) from the Old French crappe & crapin (chaff; siftings, waste or rejected matter).  In the Medieval Latin there were the plural forms crappa & crapinum, apparently from the Old Dutch krappen (to cut off, pluck off) from which Middle Dutch gained crappe & crap (a chop, cutlet) and Modern Dutch krip (a steak); the most obvious modern relative is crop.  The Middle English agent suffix er was from the Old English ere, from the Proto-Germanic ārijaz and generally thought to have been borrowed from the Latin ārius.  The English forms were cognate with the Dutch er & aar, the German er, the Swedish are, the Icelandic ari and the Gothic areis.  Related are the Ancient Greek ήριος (ḗrios) and the Old Church Slavonic арь (arĭ).  Although unrelated, the development of er was reinforced by the synonymous Old French or & eor and the Angle-Norman variant our, all derived from the Latin (ā)tor, the ultimate root being the primitive European tōr.  Dating from 1846, crap was the English slang for the proper term crapping ken which is crap’s first documented application to bodily waste although etymologists suspect it had been in widespread use for some time prior.  In this context, crap was used in the earlier English and French sense of “siftings, waste or rejected matter” and ken was an existing term for a small building or house.

The urban myth is part-truth, part-crap

The brand-name Crapper was first applied to a toilet designed and by plumber Thomas Crapper (1836-1910) and manufactured by the company he founded, Thomas Crapper & Co, Licenced Plumbers & Sanitary Engineers.  In 1884, the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910)) purchased Sandringham House and asked Mr Crapper to supply the plumbing, including thirty flushing loos with cedarwood seats and enclosures.  Impressed with the quality, the prince granted the company their first Royal Warrant.  The occupational surname Crapper is a dialectal variant of cropper (harvester of crops, farmer).

It’s a linguistic coincidence that a Mr Crapper choose to become a plumber and begin manufacturing loos bearing his name which bore such similarity to both crap and crapping which had earlier been used to describe bodily and other waste.  Despite being a coincidence, decades before the internet spread fake news, the urban myth was well-established that the terms words crap and crapper, in their scatological sense, all derive from the efforts and products of Mr Crapper.  The myth is often fleshed-out with reference to US soldiers stationed in England during World War One popularizing the phrase "I'm going to the crapper", after seeing the name on barracks’ cisterns.  In the way army slang does, it was taken home when the servicemen returned to the US.  Despite this, most dictionaries cite the origin of the slang term to the 1920s with popular use becoming widespread by the mid 1930s.  It spread with the empire and was noted in the era to be in use in the Indian Army although, after 1947, the troops came often to prefer "I am going to Pakistan".

ride) and (4), spit out after brushing and do not rinse (this maintains the fluoride concentration level).

Selfie with crapper backdrop: Lindsay Lohan on the set of HBO's Eastbound & Down (2013), brushing teeth while smoking.  It's an unusual combination but might work OK if one smokes a menthol cigarette and uses a nurdle of mint toothpaste.  Other combinations might clash.

By one's name, one shall be remembered.

The long-standing urban myth that Mr Crapper actually invented the flushing loo seems to lie in the 1969 book Flushed with Pride: The Story of Thomas Crapper by New Zealand-born humorist Wallace Reyburn (1913–2001) which purported to be a legitimate history.  Reyburn later wrote a "biography" of an influential inventor who created another product without which modern life also (for half the population) would be possible but less comfortable.  His 1971 volume Bust-Up: The Uplifting Tale of Otto Titzling and the Development of the Bra detailed the life of the putative inventor of the brassiere, Otto Titzling.  Unlike Mr Crapper, Herr Titzling (Reyburn helpfully mansplaining that the correct pronunciation was "tit-sling") never existed.  In truth, the flushing loo has probably existed in a recognizably modern form since the 1400s but, although the designs were gradually improved, they remained expensive and it was not until the nineteenth century they achieved any real popularity and it was well into the next century with the advent of distributed sanitation systems that they became expected, everyday installations.  To mark the day of his death in 1910, 27 January is designated International Thomas Crapper Day.  Each year, on that day, at the right moment, briefly, all should pause, reflect and then with gratitude, proceed.

Lindsay Lohan mug shots on the doors of the crappers at the Aqua Shard restaurant.  Located on the 31st floor of The Shard in London, the view is panoramic.