Privity

Privity (pronounced priv-i-tee)

(1) Private or secret knowledge.

(2) Participation in the knowledge of something private or secret, especially as implying concurrence or consent.

(3) Privacy or secrecy (obsolete).

(4) In medieval theology, a divine mystery; something known only to God, or revealed only in the Holy Scriptures (obsolete).

(5) The genitals (archaic, and only in the plural).

(6) In law, a relationship between parties seen as being a result of their mutual interest or participation in a given transaction, usually in contract.

(7) The fact of being privy to something; knowledge, compliance (now rare).

1175–1225: From the Anglo-Norman priveté & privitee and the Middle English privete & private, from the Old French priveté, privité & priveté (privacy; a secret, private matter), the construct being privé (from the Late Latin privus (set apart, belonging to oneself)) + -té (from the Middle French -té, from the Old French -té, from the Latin -itātem or -tātem, accusative singular of -tās, ultimately from the primitive Indo-European -tehts; the suffix was used to form nouns, often denoting a quality or a property).  The ultimate source was the Classical Latin privātus (perfect passive participle of prīvō (I bereave, deprive; I free, release).  Privity is a noun; the noun plural is privities.

Between the twelfth & sixteenth centuries a privity was “a divine mystery; something known only to God, or revealed only in the Holy Scriptures and by the late 1200s this meaning had leaked into a general sense of “privacy; secrecy”, used between the fourteenth & seventeenth centuries to refer to “a private matter, a secret”.  The use to describe the genitals (presumably influenced in some way by “private parts” or “the private”) as “the privities” is attested from the late fourteen century and didn’t wholly fade from use until the early nineteenth although use had by then long declined to a northern English, Irish & Scottish regionalism.  The word was used from the 1520s as a technical term in the laws regulating feudal land tenure and other fields of law picked it up in the general sense of “a relationship between parties seen as being a result of their mutual interest or participation in a given transaction”; it was in contract law this would assume it’s important meaning as “privity of contract” (describing the special status of the parties to a contract (as legally defined), something which would for centuries be of critical importance and still in use today.  Less precise was the sixteenth century sense of “the fact of being privy to something; knowledge, compliance” and while there are better ways of saying it, such use is not yet extinct.

Privity of contract, Donoghue v Stevenson and the snail.

The classic case (drummed for almost a century into law students) in the demolition of the sense of the absolute in privity of contract was Donoghue v Stevenson ([1932] A.C. 562, [1932] UKHL 100, 1932 S.C. (H.L.) 31, 1932 S.L.T. 317, [1932] W.N. 139), finally decided before the House of Lords.  It was the case which more than any other established the foundation of the doctrine of product liability, refined the concept of negligence (transforming tort law) and remains a core part of the framework for the principles of “duty of care” which substantially it expanded.

The extraordinary case began with events which transpired in the modest settings of the Wellmeadow Café in Paisle, Scotland, Mrs Donoghue’s friend on 26 August 1928 buying her a ginger-beer, served in a bottle made from a dark, opaque glass.  After she’d consumed about half, the remainder was poured into a tumbler at which point the partially decomposed remains of a snail floated out, inducing an alleged shock and severe gastro-enteritis.  Because Mrs Stevenson was not a party to the contractual purchase of the ginger beer, she was unable to claim through breach of warranty of a contract: she was not party to any contract because, at law, she received the drink as a gift.  Accordingly, she issued proceedings against Stevenson (the manufacturer) and, after some four years in the lower courts, the matter ended up before the House of Lords, then the UK’s highest appellate court.

All were aware it was an important case.  The lower courts, bound by precedent, had been compelled to find the absence of privity of contract doomed the suit but the issue of product liability in the modern era of consumers interacting usually not directly with the producer of goods but their agents or retailers had for some time been discussed as an area of law in which reform was required.  What the Law Lords had to decide was whether the manufacturer owed Mrs Donoghue a duty of care in the absence of contractual relations contrary to established case law.  The important point was not if she was owed compensation for damages suffered but if a cause of action existed.

Previously, as a general principle, manufacturers owed no duty of care to consumers except if (1) the product was inherently dangerous and no warning of this sate was provided and (2) the manufacturer was aware that the product was dangerous because of a defect and this had been concealed from the consumer.  The Lords found for Mrs Donoghue although in a cautious judgement which could be read as offering little scope for others except the specific matter of ginger beer in opaque bottles containing the decomposed remains of a dead snail when sold to a Scottish widow.  However, the mood for reform was in the legal air and the judgment established (1) negligence is distinct and separate in tort, (2) there need not be privity of contract for a duty of care to be established and (3) manufacturers owe a duty to the consumers who they intend to use their products.

In the leading judgment, Lord Atkin (James Richard Atkin, 1867–1944; lord of appeal in ordinary 1928-1944) wrote, inter alia, what was at that time the widest definition of the “neighbour principle”: “The rule that you are to love your neighbour becomes in law, you must not injure your neighbour; and the lawyer’s question, Who is my neighbour? receives a restricted reply.  You must take reasonable care to avoid acts or omissions which you can reasonably foresee would be likely to injure your neighbour.  Who, then, in law is my neighbour? The answer seems to be – persons who are so closely and directly affected by my act that I ought reasonably to have them in contemplation as being so affected when I am directing my mind to the acts or omissions which are called in question.”  On this basis, if no other, the Lords held Mrs Donoghue’s action had succeeded and she had a cause of action in law, the culmination of a growing appreciation by the courts that the law needed to evolve to reflect the patterns of modern commerce.  Some years before Donoghue v Stevenson had been decided, another judge had observed “…it would appear to be reasonable and equitable to hold that, in the circumstances and apart altogether from contract, there exists a relationship of duty as between the maker and the consumer…”

Once, if someone bought two bottles of ginger beer and gave one to a friend, were both to be injured by decomposing snails within, only the consumer who handed over the cash could have recovered damages because they alone enjoyed a privity of contract.  Since Donoghue v Stevenson, both can in court seek remedy in tort on the basis of “product liability”, a manufacturer’s duty of care held to extend to all consumers of their products.

Being the common law, what was effectively a new doctrine (and one, as the term “neighbour principle” suggests, rooted in Christian morality) it was also a general principle and thus a foundation on which the building blocks of subsequent judgments would sit; it could not be treated, in the words of Lord Reid (James Scott Cumberland Reid, 1890–1975, lord of appeal in ordinary 1948-1975): “…as if it were a statutory definition. It will require qualification in new circumstances.”  The courts in the years after 1932 had ample opportunity to refine things and this included the development of the modern tests in tort for the “foreseeability of damage” and “proximity” to which was later appended the surprisingly recent “fairness”, something which came to be regarded as within the rubric of public policy, all able to work in conjunction and as one judge noted, the distinctions between them were “…somewhat porous but they are probably none the worse for that.”  From Donoghue v Stevenson has evolved the modern notion of product liability and it would now to many seem strange there was in living memory a time when a manufacturer could escape liability for selling defective goods simply on the basis the injured party wasn’t the purchaser.  One curious quirk of Donoghue v Stevenson remains that the facts were not tested so it will never be known if the most important character in the case (the decomposing snail) ever existed.

Simony

Simony (pronounced sahy-muh-nee or sim-uh-nee)

(1) The making of profit out of sacred things.

(2) In Christianity, the practice, now usually regarded as a sin, of buying or selling spiritual or ecclesiastical benefits such as pardons, relics, benefices or preferments.

The buying or selling of spiritual or sacred things, such as ecclesiastical offices, pardons, or consecrated objects.

1175–1225: From the Middle English & the twelfth century Old French simonie (selling of church offices; the sin of buying or selling sacred things), from the Late Latin simōnia (from Simon Magus (Σίμων ὁ μάγος in Greek, Simon Magvs in Latin), the Samaritan sorcerer (magician) who was rebuked by Peter when he tried to buy the power of conferring the Holy Spirit (Acts 8:9-24)).  The nouns simoniak & simoner (the alternative spelling was simonier) (one who practices simony) appear in documents around the turn of the fifteenth century but there’s no evidence the adverb simoniacally was in use before the mid-1700s.  Simony, simonist, simoner & simonism are nouns, simoniac is a noun & adjective, simonient is an adjective and simoniacally is an adverb; the noun plural is simonies.

Acts 8:9-24: Origin of the Church’s ban on outsourcing.

18: And when Simon saw that through laying on of the apostles' hands the Holy Ghost was given, he offered them money.

19: Saying, give me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands, he may receive the Holy Ghost.

20: But Peter said unto him, thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money.

Simon Magus, known also as Simon the Sorcerer, was one of many magicians and, with competition fierce in a crowded market, he sought to increase his stock of magic tricks, gaining thereby a comparative advantage.  What he really wanted was to be thought of as one who, by laying on of hands, could make people feel filled with the Holy Spirit (the presence of the Lord), then a desired thing.

Saint Peter to Simon the Sorcerer: "Just don't do it; just say no."

When Simon Magus saw Peter and John deliver the presence by the laying of their on baptized believers, he offered money if they would confer on him the same power.  The pious pair were aghast at the idea one could buy the gift of God and urged Simon to repent so God might forgive him.  Hearing these words made Simon fearful and he pleaded with them to pray that nothing bad would befall him.  Whether Simon was truly repentant is never made clear although he did not immediately die so God did not at once smite him in his wrath.  Others were not so fortunate but Simon was the first heretic named in the New Testament and ever since, the Church has insisted on its monopoly in matters spiritual.  However, later popes, bishops and other clergy, while noting the the ruling of Peter & John as conferring on them exclusivity of supply in such matters, their interpretation didn't extend to banning profit from the business, something which would come to have profound consequences for Church and state. 

Compared with the unfortunate Ananias and Sapphira, Simon got off lightly.  In the Book of Acts (4:32), it’s recorded the early Christian disciples did not think of their possessions as their own but as the property of the collective to be used in the name of the Lord (not now a popular piece of scripture among the more materialist Christians).  Were money received by one, it belonged to all the apostles and were one to be found cheating, there were consequences and of course there had to be because, theologically, not only was the miscreant cheating others in the clergy, they were stealing from God Himself.  In Acts (5:1-11), it’s recounted that Ananias and his wife Sapphira sold their land but, when handing the proceeds to Peter, Anania kept some of the money for himself (the modern term in the study of governance & corruption in the distribution of foreign aid would be "siphoning").

5 But a certain man named Ananias, with Sapphira his wife, sold a possession,

2 And kept back part of the price, his wife also being privy to it, and brought a certain part, and laid it at the apostles' feet.

3 But Peter said, Ananias, why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the land?

4 Whiles it remained, was it not thine own? and after it was sold, was it not in thine own power? why hast thou conceived this thing in thine heart? thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God.

5 And Ananias hearing these words fell down, and gave up the ghost: and great fear came on all them that heard these things.

6 And the young men arose, wound him up, and carried him out, and buried him.

7 And it was about the space of three hours after, when his wife, not knowing what was done, came in.

8 And Peter answered unto her, Tell me whether ye sold the land for so much? And she said, Yea, for so much.

9 Then Peter said unto her, How is it that ye have agreed together to tempt the Spirit of the Lord? behold, the feet of them which have buried thy husband are at the door, and shall carry thee out.

10 Then fell she down straightway at his feet, and yielded up the ghost: and the young men came in, and found her dead, and, carrying her forth, buried her by her husband.

11 And great fear came upon all the church, and upon as many as heard these things.

A salutary warning then, rather untypical of the New Testament, something more in the spirit of the vengeful God of the Old and it remains one of the passages in scripture most of modern Christianity prefers to ignore.  The endorsement of the death penalty often attracts little criticism but the notion of sharing with others one’s capital gains from the real-estate market would likely have little appeal to the many in evangelical congregations, although, given the corporate structure, the richer of the clergy might see some attraction.

The story has long been a struggle for theologians.  Although a injunction against lying is not one of the ten commandments (although it seems implied in (8) You shall not steal & (9) You shall not bear false witness), it wasn't explicitly prohibited although Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead simply for conspiring to lie; that would seem unfair for on the night Christ was tried, Peter himself lied three times yet was not thrice struck dead and anyway, as Peter acknowledged, they were under no obligation to donate the money.  It might then seem difficult to see just what was the sin so heinous that both deserved to die but theologians most often hint at something Aristotle might have called honor, what the social media marketing experts might call the quality of authenticity.  The transgression of Ananias and Sapphira was seeking the honor of their community in a manner dishonorable, shaming themselves as mere counterfeits; phoneys.  It was not the money which mattered, it was the fake news and, as Peter said, that news came from Satan for Satan had filled (to “the brim” in some translations) the heart of Ananias.  So, it's no great theological leap to see in their conduct as transgressions of (8) You shall not steal and (2) You shall not make any idols to worship (in that money had become an object of veneration).

La Mort de Saphire (The Death of Sapphira (1652)), oil on canvas by Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665).

People lie all the time and God does not smite them in his wrath but while all men might be equal before God, not all communities are equal.  When people lie to others in their community they are lying to others, to themselves and before God; it is a sin and one day they shall be judged.  But among the disciples of Christ himself, there can be no lies for to lie there is to lie about the work of the Holy Spirit and to speak that lie to God.  There can be only one consequence and that must be death.  It's a warning to those with the conceit to seek pre-eminence among the people of God, careerists seeking recognition, influence and power in God’s Church which is wrong for it is God alone who takes us into His Church (John 6:44, 65) and Him alone who elevates and ordains individuals to offices within (1 Corinthians 12:18, 28; Ephesians 4:11); as in all things, "the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; Blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).  The vainglory of the self-aggrandizement of Ananias and Sapphira was the work of the mind and nature of Satan (Isaiah 14:13-14; Ezekiel 28:17) and was what made the couple willing instruments in the execution of his purposes.  Structuralists draw from the story a lesson about the authority of the hierarchical clergy and the nature of the institution of the Church.  Theologians writing their apologia (which seem always emphasise that Peter must be absolved of any responsibility) conclude the message is in everything we do we must love our neighbors as ourselves and seek not to accrue wealth, status and power.

In the early medieval church the legal position was unambiguous so the spirit was strong, even if the flesh of priests was sometimes weak, accusations of simony not uncommon, something encouraged presumably by the increasingly obvious wealth of not a few clergy.  In reaction, canon law banned what had become revenue streams derived from the supply of what had once been simple orders of service performed for events such as blessings or baptism.  Over the years many canons and edicts reinforced the sanctions, something necessitated by priests being good “black letter law” practitioners, eager to spot loopholes and eyes of needles through which money could pass.  Even papal bulls addressed the matter though it was a time of low literacy and distant channels of communications, things which helped imaginative priests hone their business model.  Famously, Gregory I (circa 540–604; usually styled Saint Gregory the Great, pope 590-604) condemned such transactions as “a simoniac heresy” but the problem was not the state of law but the efficiency of its enforcement, a familiar complaint in the modern secular world.

Despite it all, by the ninth and tenth centuries, simony had become so entrenched in the ecclesiastical structure that the very economy of the Church may have been dependent on the practices and in the eyes of the population, presumably was an accepted part of theology.  The more austere canon lawyers however found it disturbing and by the eleventh century, one of the debates between them concerned the issue of whether a priest who had gained his office by a simonical transaction (ie purchased it from a bishop) could be said to be validly ordained and this was not merely a tiresome technical point argued between lawyers: if an ordination was invalid, did this invalidate the legal effect of the rituals he’d since performed?  If so, were some marriages null & void, couples living in sin and unknowingly producing illegitimate children?  Were their baptisms valid or were there many unbaptised heathens?  That was bad enough but if so, would those who had died (and there would have been many), on that basis be sent not to Heaven but instead burn in Hell (discussions of some less unpleasant alternatives such as Limbo were not then well advanced)?

It was during the pontificate of Gregory IX (circa 1150-1241; pope 1227-1241) the sanctions were codified and it was done with a legal sledgehammer.  In issuing the Corpus Juris Canonici (literally “Body of Canon Law”) in 1234, Gregory provided the document which would provide the framework for the Church’s canon law for over 700 years and although subject to frequent refinement, it would not be replaced until 1917.  As a part of this, the matter of simony was dealt with in what might now be called “an omnibus provision”, the definitional basis for the offence so wide that just about any transaction “involving consideration” (ie money or some other benefit) might be caught in its net.

Canto XVIII, part of the eighth circle of Hell, in Divine Comedy (circa 1494), illustrated by Sandro Botticelli (Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi; circa 1445–1510).

It’s said to have had a great reforming influence but of course the problem shifted shape rather than going away and in the fourteenth century, Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321) in Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) detailed (not without glee) the fate of avaricious simoniacs including “clergymen, and popes and cardinals” who, dammed for “fraud” would be cast into the eighth circle of Hell, a hot, fiery place where they’d have ended up trapped for eternity in a flaming tomb, the frequent punishments including being whipped by demons, immersed in excrement and transformed into reptiles:

Rapacious ones, who take the things of God,
that ought to be the brides of Righteousness,
and make them fornicate for gold and silver!
The time has come to let the trumpet sound
for you;

Ever if not scared of lawyers, from the most humble monk to the pope himself, priests were scared of going to Hell so Dante’s words may have had some effect, even though he wrote in common Italian rather than Latin.  The lure of money though proved strong and although the sale of “indulgences” (essentially God’s forgiveness, often in bulk) was not the sole inspiration for the movement which led to the sixteenth century Protestant Reformation, it was probably the most celebrated and an indication of the way corruption tends to be hydra-headed, difficult to suppress and probably impossible to eradicate.  Still, it was the framework of canon law which provided the basis for the structures the Church of England would adopt to stamp out simony and it’s not hard to see traces of it in many of the anti-corruption statutes and institutions which exist today in many Western states.

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

Agathokakological

Agathokakological (pronounced ag-uh-thuh-kak-loj-uh-kuhl)

Composed of both good and evil.

Early 1800s: The construct was the Greek ἀγαθός (agathós) (good) + κακός (kakós) (bad) + logical.  Agathós was from the Proto-Hellenic əgathós, possibly from the primitive Indo-European m̥ǵhdhós (made great; whose deeds are great), the construct being méǵhs (great) + dheh- (do) + -ós (the Latin magnificus was from the same roots) although there are etymologists who discount and Indo-European connection and suggest it was a borrowing from some Pre-Greek source.  The source of kakka- & kaka- is unknown but there may be some connection with the primitive Indo-European root kakka- & kaka- (to defecate) and it may be compared with the Phrygian κακον (kakon) (harm) and Albanian keq (bad).  Again, there are etymologists who prefer a Pre-Greek origin.  In English slang, to be “cack handed” (cackhandedly & cackhandedness the related forms) describes someone clumsy, someone prone to dropping or breaking things.  The association was with the Old English cack (excrement; dung) and in Old English a cachus was a privy (toilet), both from the Latin cacare (to defecate).  Apparently, the ultimate origin or cack-handed was from the ancient practice (developed among people who were of course mostly right-handed), that the left hand should be reserved for cleaning oneself after defecation, the right used for all other purposes (something related to the significance of shaking hands with the right).  It’s from kakka- & kaka- that poppycock, kakistocracy, cacophony, cacology and cacography are derived.

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

The suffix logical was used to form adjectival forms of nouns ending in –logy although few terms are directly derived using this suffix. Terms ending in logical are often derived from words formed in other languages or by suffixing -ical to a word ending in logy (biological = biology + -ical; genealogical = genealogy + -ical).  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).  The -al suffix was from the Middle English -al, from the Latin adjectival suffix -ālis, ((the third-declension two-termination suffix (neuter -āle) used to form adjectives of relationship from nouns or numerals) or the French, Middle French and Old French –el & -al.  It was use to denote the sense "of or pertaining to", an adjectival suffix appended (most often to nouns) originally most frequently to words of Latin origin, but since used variously and also was used to form nouns, especially of verbal action.  The alternative form in English remains -ual (-all being obsolete).

1974 Triumph Stag in magenta.

Agathokakological is an adjective, the comparative being “more agathokakological” and the superlative “most agathokakological”.  To be “most agathokakological” presumably implies something like “most polarized” in that one’s qualities of good and bad are especially exaggerated.  That presumably would be the understanding of psychiatrists who would regard agathokakological as a synopsis of the human condition and a spectrum condition, some individuals containing more good than others, others more bad.  Engineers would also be familiar with the concept, few machines being either perfect or so flawed as to be useless, most a mix of virtues and vices, the Triumph Stag a classic example and one which probably moved some owners to recall Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s (1807–1882) poem There was a little girl:

There was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
She was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.

Magnum

Magnum (pronounced mag-nuhm)

(1) A large wine bottle having a capacity of two ordinary bottles or 1.5 liters (1.6 quarts).

(2) In ballistics, a magnum cartridge or firearm (a loaded with a larger charge than other cartridges of the same calibre).

(3) A firearm using such a cartridge.

(4) Used generally, unusually great in power or size:

1788:  From the Latin magnum (“great, large, big" (of size), "great, considerable" (of value), "strong, powerful" (of force); of persons, "elder, aged"), neuter of magnus (large), from a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root meg- (great).  The original use in English was to describe the large wine-bottle, then usually containing two quarts.  As the name of a powerful type of handgun, it was first registered in 1935 by the US company, Smith & Wesson of Springfield, Massachusetts.  Outside of ballistics, the most common use is now probably “magnum opus" (masterpiece, a person's greatest work, literally "great work", applied, in literature, music, art and (sometime a little liberally) popular culture.  The noun plural is magnums or magna.

Magnum ammunition

Lindsay Lohan in habit with Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum, Machete (2010).

Released in September 2010 at the Venice Film Festival and distributed internationally by Sony Pictures, Machete would probably be more highly regarded if the full-length feature had lived up to the promise created by the artfully-edited trailer.  Probably about twenty minutes too long, the critical consensus suggests Machete was a violent, shallow, repetitive and probably unnecessary addition to whatever was the sub-genre of exploitation it inhabited.  That said, the production values were thought high enough for those who like this sort of thing to be able to look forward to it as one of the more enjoyable movies of the summer of 2010.

Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum.

A magnum cartridge is one with a larger case size than the standard cartridge of the same calibre and case shoulder shape.  The now generic term is derived from Smith & Wesson’s Original .357 S&W Magnum, introduced in 1934; magnum ammunition containing either or both additional propellant or a heavier projectile but the term is a bit of an anomaly in the business of ballistics.  Although in the terminology of firearms, most jargon is explicitly defined, “magnum ammunition” has no precise codified set of standards, instead being just an indication of the possession of more powerful characteristics than other loads of the same calibre and shape.

Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum.

Smith & Wesson’s original .357 Magnum was introduced in 1934 in response to the growing availability of bullet-proofing technology in both automobiles and the ballistics vests used for personal protection.  It was an attempt to provide greater penetrative power without the need to increase the bore with the consequential increase in the size and weight of weapons.  Predictably though, the arms race had begun, and in the decades which followed, magnum loads would become available for a wide range of calibres, hand guns and long arms as well as shotguns, the classic .44 Magnum, later made famous in popular culture, released in 1954.  It didn’t stop there, increasing demand for the .44 convincing Smith & Wesson to develop the .500 Magnum, currently the most powerful handgun load generally available and one marketed, in addition to its other attractions, to those who might find it more convenient than a rifle for hunting big game.  The size, weight and recoil however mean it’s not suitable for all and in the US, .500 is anyway the legal limit for handgun loads.  In US law, it’s a rare restriction.

.460 Weatherby Magnum.

For that reason, even Smith and Wesson do recommend that unless one plans to hunt elephant at close range or expect to confront a charging wild boar, loads like the .357 Magnum are better for what most people do most of the time.  The same caution applies to the Magnum loads for rifles, the .375 Magnum often nominated by experts as the perfect compromise for all but the most extreme applications.  Indeed, it was loads like the .375 Magnum which eliminated most of the need for the famous old-style “elephant guns” like Holland & Holland’s .600 Nitro and the .458 and .460 Magnum cartridges of the 1950s were necessitated only by regulations governing big-game hunting in Africa mandating a load above .400.  Despite that, demand for the heavy calibres remains strong, Holland and Holland, after introducing a canon-like .700 Nitro found demand so unexpectedly strong that they resumed production of the long retired .600.  While it seems unlikely heavier loads will be thought practical, that may not matter, there being some evidence many of the .700 Nitros are sold to collectors, never to be fired.

That said, Austria’s Pfeifer firearms created supply to meet what demand there may be.  The Pfeifer .600 Nitro Express Zeliska single-action revolver weighs over 13 lb (4.85 kg) and is  22 inches (.56 m) in length, the cylinder section alone weighing 4.5 lb (17 kg).  Although generating a muzzle energy of 7,591 foot pounds (33.7 kn), paradoxically, the weight of the gun actually limits the recoil, making controlled shooting possible although, practice is essential.  With a cylinder capacity of either five .600 Nitro or .458 Winchester Magnum rounds, it's able to fire a 900 grain, .600 some 2000 feet (600+ m).  At release, Zeliska listed the revolver at US$17,316 and because each .600 Nitro Express round costs about US$45, it’s an expensive hobby.

The Magnum Concilium

Dating from Norman times, the Magnum Concilium (Great Council) was an English assembly eventually composed of senior ecclesiastics, noblemen and representatives of the counties of England and Wales (and later of the boroughs too) which was from time-to-time convened to discuss matter of state with the king and his advisors (sitting as the Curia Regis (King's Court; a kind of predecessor to the Privy Council and later the cabinet).  The Magnum Concilium evolved into the Concilium Regis in Parliamento (the parliament of England), the first generally thought to be the so-called "Model Parliament" of 1295, which included archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, barons, and representatives of the shires and boroughs.  The evolution wasn’t linear, power in the land a constant struggle between king and parliament, the authority of both fluctuating as the politics of the day effed and flowed.  Nor was the parliament a united force, shrewd kings knowing how to exploit divisions between the parliamentary factions but by the reign of Edward II (1284-1327; as Edward of Caernarfon, King of England 1307-1327), the nobility was ascendant, the Crown compliant and the rest essentially irrelevant.

Execution Of Charles I, 1649 (circa 1850) by an unknown artist.

Under Edward III (1312–1377; as Edward of Windsor, King of England 1327-1377), the modern bicameral structure (a House of Commons & a House of Lords), became clear and the authority of Parliament grew although the Lords remained by far the most powerful because that was where the economic resources were concentrated.  That reality was reflected by the practice, under the Plantagenet kings, of the summoning of the Magnum Concilium being something exclusively ecclesiastical & aristocratic, the representatives of the commons rarely in attendance.  After Henry VII (1457–1509; King of England 1485-1509) convened the Magnum Concilium on several occasions in the late 1400s, for various reasons, its participation in the governance of England went into abeyance until, in 1640, Charles I was advised to summon the Magnum Concilium after he’d dissolved the Short Parliament in order to raise money because his misrule and wars of adventure had bankrupted the state.  The king got his money but his private army was soon at war with the parliamentary forces of both Scotland and England and those wars did not for him go well.  Before the decade was over, he would be beheaded.  The Magnum Concilium has not since met but experts in English constitutional law have confirmed it still exists and can, at any time, be summoned by the Crown.

Chrysler’s 440 Magnum Six-Pack

383 Magnum V8 with cross-ram induction in in 1960 Dodge Dart Phoenix D-500.

Chrysler’s family of big-block wedge V8s lasted from 1958 until 1978 but, although the label is often commonly applied, not all were designated “Magnum”.  The first Magnum was a high-performance version of the B-series 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 (which differs from the later RB 383), the highlight being the option of a (long) cross-ram inlet manifold with two four-barrel carburetors.  It was only Dodge which used the Magnum label; the equivalent power-plant in a Plymouth was called a Commando (there were adjectives sometimes added) and in a Chrysler, a TNT.

1970 Dodge 440 Magnum Six-Pack.

Introduced in 1969, the highest evolution of the RB Magnum were the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) versions built with three Holley 2300 series two-barrel carburetors instead of the more commonly seen single carburetor induction (which were on the 440 almost exclusively in four-barrel form).  The early versions used an Edelbrock manifold cast in aluminum but supply difficulties forced Chrysler also to cast their own in cast-iron to meet demand.  Although obviously a high-performance variation, marketed by Dodge as the 440 Magnum Six-Pack, the engine was engineered to use only the centre 250 cubic feet per minute (7 m³) carburetor under normal throttle loads, the outer two 370 cfm (10.4 m³) units used only if summoned.  If one could resist the temptation of the sudden onrush of power, the Magnum Six-Pack could be quite economical by the admittedly slight standards of the time.

440 Magnum Six-Pack in 1970 Dodge Challenger.

Internally, the Six-Pack Magnums differed from the single carburetor engines in the use of stiffer valve springs borrowed from the 426 Street Hemi, stronger rocker arms (strengthened connecting rods were added in 1970), molybdenum-filled piston rings and flash chromed valves.  Better to cope with the additional stresses imposed by those high-tension springs, the camshaft lobes and lifter faces were blueprinted to equalise the loads, the lifters rotating to distribute wear equally across the surfaces subject to friction.  With its compression ratio upped from 10.1:1 to 10.5:1, upon release, the Magnum Six-Pack was rated at 390 bhp (290 kw), dropping slightly to 385 (287) when some minor anti-emission adjustments were made in 1971.  At around half the price of Chrysler’s much-vaunted Street-Hemi adaptation of the race engine, the Magnum Six-Pack was a bargain, at least matching the Hemi in most aspects of performance until speeds above 120 mph (190 km/h) were attained, along with a longer manufacturer’s warranty and lower insurance costs, at least for some.  It was good while it lasted but 1971 was the swansong for both the Magnum Six-Pack and the Street-Hemi, emission regulations and an astonishing increase in the cost of insuring the things crushing demand.

1972 Jensen FF Series III.

Across the Atlantic however, the Six-Pack Magnum did enjoy a brief afterlife after being driven extinct in the US.  Jensen, in the throes of phasing out their acclaimed but unprofitable all-wheel-drive FF, were looking for a flagship which could be created quickly and cheaply, ruling out the mooted convertible which wouldn’t appear for some years.  With their planned new F-Type unlikely to be on sale before 1973, the need was for something which demanded neither much development time nor an onerous budget.

The much admired louvers on 1972 Jensen SP.

Jensen had for years been building their Interceptor & FF models with the Chrysler RB engines and had even flirted with the idea of doing a run with the Street Hemi, a project aborted when the costs of adaptation became apparent.  In late 1970, Jensen’s need for something was communicated to Chrysler which, by happy coincidence, had a batch of Magnum Six-Pack engines which had been gathering dust in a Canadian warehouse since being effectively orphaned by the new US emission control legislation.  Within days, agreement was reached, Jensen taking delivery of the first tranche of the batch which, although unable to be sold in the US, were legal just about everywhere else.  The mechanical specification settled, discussions then turned to other features which could be included to enhance the car’s status as a premium product.  Because it was the 1970s (and there's really no other excuse), without much discussion, it was agreed to glue on a vinyl roof; that many others did the same thing is no defense.  More defensible was the inclusion of a high-quality and very expensive Learjet eight-track cartridge stereo system and, to provide some continuity with the FF, it was decided to use that model’s blue-themed badges rather than the red used on the Interceptor.  Also, interestingly, it was during these initial discussions that a fully louvered hood (bonnet) would be included in the coachwork but there’s no indication there was any concern about additional engine-bay heat, the louvers apparently just a styling device to evoke memories of earlier eras when they were common on high-performance machinery.  There was little debate about the name; several people had suggested SP was the obvious choice.  In December 1970, the first prototype SP was built although the intricacies of the triple carburetor engine weren’t entirely new to Jensen’s engineers, having a few months earlier fitted one to an Interceptor to fulfil a customer request.  Assessment of the prototype proved the adaptation was as straight-forward as expected, the minor issue of the additional clearance demanded by the big air-filter effected by a quick fix to the filter housing.

1971 Jensen SP at the Geneva Motor Show, March 1972.  Just fifteen were built in left-hand drive configuration because the SP engine couldn't meet the new US emission standards, thereby precluding sales in the market most receptive to thirsty machines.

Scheduled for release in the northern autumn of 1971, Jensen’s original plan had been to announce the SP as part of their new range including the Mark III versions of both the Interceptor and FF but the realities of the future made apparent the mixed-messaging was a bad idea.  The SP was intended to be the new top-of-the line model so announcing it with an updated version of the doomed yet still more expensive FF made little sense, the Mark III FF created only as a way to ensure the last fifteen FF body-shells (the all-wheel drive configuration necessitated a longer wheelbase) could be utilised.  Almost all FF marketing was thus terminated and the emphasis switched to the new two-model range with the SP sitting atop which meant the Mark III FF, which would become one of the Jensens most prized by collectors, went at the time almost unnoticed.

1972 Monteverdi 375/4.

Beginning its tour of the motor show circuit, the new flagship was greeted with subdued interest by the motoring press which viewed the SP as the hot rod Interceptor it was and which, while entertaining in a occasionally brutish (and rather un-Jensen like) sort of way, was not as intriguing as the soon-to-be lamented FF, the prowess of which had so astonished all who drove it, exploring for the first time the revolutionary possibilities of anti-lock braking and all-wheel-drive.  Nevertheless, the performance did impress, a top-speed of 143 mph (230 km/h) being reported although it was noted that Monteverdi’s even bigger and heavier 375/4 limousine had been clocked just a little faster and it used the 440 with only a single four barrel carburetor.  Still it was fast enough and nobody complained the SP lacked pace.

Jensen SP press release, 5 October 1971.

What did elicit complaint was the manner in which that speed sometimes arrived.  The tremendous delivery of power at full-throttle was praised but the lack of predictable response lower in the rev-range attracted criticism, the additional carburetors kicking in sometimes unexpectedly and not always when the car was heading in a straight line.  Issues with hot-starting were also apparent and even the otherwise much admired multi-louvered bonnet was found not the be without fault, the slats apparently changing either the properties of the metal or the reaction of the shape to the fluid dynamics of air-flow; at speed, the bonnet would “slightly shiver, almost as though improperly fastened” and testers, used to the cocoon-like stability of the Interceptor and FF, found it disconcerting.  While none of the reviews were damning, nor were they much more than polite.

1972 Jensen SP engine bay.

Worse was to come as customers started reporting problems, the first being the issue of under-bonnet heat.  Although a big machine by European standards, the engine bay of the Jensen was smaller than anything to which it’d been fitted in the US and, even with the louvers helping to ventilate the space, it got very hot in there and this quickly affected the carburetors which had never before been exposed to such extremes; parts warping as the metal heated and then cooled, causing air-gaps to emerge, making accurate tuning, vital with multiple-carburetion, impossible.  The factory was soon receiving reports of engines which refused to idle and, due to the inherent nature of the Holly 2300 carburetor design, engines would run too rich after a week or so of nothing more than normal driving.

1963 Jensen CV8.

For a small company like Jensen, it was a major setback.  The company had built the Interceptor's reputation on reliability and ease of ownership essentially by piggy-backing on the back of the bullet proof Chrysler V8s and TorqueFlite transmissions it had begun using in the Interceptor's predecessor, the CV8.  The approach, adopted by many in this era, appealed to buyers not sufficiently seduced by the bespoke charm and mechanical intricacies of the continental competition to wish to deal with the cost and inconvenience of the more demanding maintenance schedules listed by Ferrari, Lamborghini & Maserati.  Like the MGA Twin-Cam (and for that matter the later Jensen-Healey), the SP was a classic case of insufficient product development and testing, examples of which littered the post-war UK industry.  Perhaps there was complacency because (1) multiple carburetors were nothing new to British manufacturers and (2) the Six-Pack Magnum had a good record of reliability in the US.  However, three Hollys on a big-block Chrysler turned out to behave differently to three big SUs on a Jaguar XK-six.                  

1970 Dodge Super Bee 440 Magnum Six-Pack with typical girlfriend of typical buyer.

The occasional quirk of the Magnum Six-Pack was not unknown in the US but there the nature of the thing was well-understood; it was a hot-rod engine bought by those who wanted such things, most owners young, male, mechanically adept and often anxious to tinker under the hood (bonnet).  The Jensen buyer was a wholly different demographic, mostly older, affluent men who either had rarely seen under a bonnet or hadn’t looked for many years and their expectations of a car which was twice as expensive as Jaguar’s V12 E-Type were very different to those youthful Californian baby boomers had of their hotted-up taxi cabs.  Used to the effortless, if thirsty, behavior of the Interceptor, some found their SPs, the high-performance of which most could rarely explore, were behaving like brand new, very expensive old clunkers.

Jensen FF with typical mistress of typical buyer.

Weeks of testing and experiments with all sorts of adjustments proved pointless.  In Jensen’s workshops it was always possible to produce a perfectly running SP but, after sometimes as little as a week in the hands of owner, it would be back, displaying the same symptoms and in the end, Jensen admitted defeat and offered the only solution guaranteed to work: remove the triple induction system and replace it with the Interceptor’s faithful Carter Thermoquad four barrel carburetor.  That alleviated all the drivability issues but did mean that having paid their £6,976.87, a premium of a thousand-odd pounds over the anyway expensive Interceptor, the emasculated SP became an Interceptor with a vinyl roof, an eight-track cartridge player and a vibrating bonnet.  The factory’s records suggest between a quarter and a third of buyers opted for the Theromquad fix and some refunds were paid to the especially unhappy.

Last gasp: 1974 Jensen Interceptor convertible.

Although Jensen had known, because the Magnum Six-Pack was out of production, the SP was not going to have a long life, it had been hoped it would fulfil its role until the new F-Type was expected to be released in 1973.  However, having built 208 SPs, Jensen didn’t take up their option on what remained in Chrysler’s Canadian remainder bin and, once the stock already delivered was exhausted, the SP was allowed quietly to die.  Between September 1971 and July 1973, 231 Jensen SPs were completed with one final example built in October, a special order from someone who really wanted one.

1972 Jensen-Healey publicity shot.

It was the start of a run of bad luck that would doom also the Interceptor and the entire company: (1) Development issues would beset the F-Type which would never see the light of day, (2) the Jensen-Healey (1972-1976) sports car which had seemed so promising turned into an expensive flop and (3) the first oil shock in 1973 rendered the Interceptor and many of its ilk suddenly big, thirsty dinosaurs and not even the release in 1974 of a much-admired convertible version could rescue things.  Bankruptcy loomed and by 1976 the end came.  However, in the way flawed but charismatic English cars have often, decades on, enjoyed second acts, the SPs are now much prized and there’s a small industry devoted to restoring them to their six-barreled glory, modern materials and techniques of insulation & cooling now able to transform them into something as well-behaved as any Interceptor.

The magnum’s place in the hierarchy of Champagne bottles.

Lindsay Lohan with Magnum (ice cream) backdrop.